'So that's what skill correction means...'
He circulated his mana once more. He could definitely feel it. Now that the skill had been created, the flow of mana had changed.
With endless practice, a technique becomes ingrained in the body to the point where you don't need to consciously focus on every little detail—the body moves on its own. The technique becomes part of you. This is what they call 'mastery.'
Until now, Do-yoon had to consciously control the mana himself, spreading it through his meridians throughout his body.
But now, just by forming the intent to move the mana, it automatically flowed through his acupoints and spread through his body without direct manipulation.
It felt like his mastery had jumped to a whole new level. 'Proficiency has increased' was the perfect way to put it.
'It enhances the completion of the technique with corrections and shows growth intuitively through levels. No wonder it's called a blessing.'
Of course, the proficiency of the Războinic Style Mana Circulation that Do-yoon performed wasn't at level 1. This circulation method had been created by Enoch himself in the first place, honed over decades of practice.
Yet the system still displayed it as skill level 1. And as the skill level rose, it would apply even stronger corrections.
And naturally, leveling up becomes harder the higher the skill level.
'For example, I can start way ahead of others on the starting line and grow at the same rate as them.'
Probably the same for other otherworlders who came here having already mastered special techniques in their original worlds.
As a blessing designed to foster apostles' growth, it seemed more focused on accelerating progress than just displaying current status.
'I was planning to focus only on training my body and mana to regain my past life's power...'
But with this, he could aim much higher.
Do-yoon clenched his fist tightly against the rising thrill from deep within.
'From now on, I'll have to pay attention to skill training too.'
The training fervor that had lain dormant in Do-yoon for 25 years reignited.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Do-yoon skipped the entire second week of classes.
The other cadets were assigned to position-specific classes starting from week two, but not Do-yoon.
Of course, everyone assumed he'd join the hand-to-hand combat class. But unexpectedly, Do-yoon chose the spear arts class.
'What's the point of going to hand-to-hand or swordsmanship when there's nothing more for me to learn there? Might as well learn something new.'
The martial arts Do-yoon had honed in his past life were swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat for when he didn't have a sword.
He'd had centuries to train, but Enoch Războinic's 18 lives had been a nonstop gauntlet of brutal struggles. Born as a dullard, he hadn't even had enough time to invest in swordsmanship and hand-to-hand.
Skipping classes forever would draw the dean's attention. If he had to attend anyway, he wanted something new—something he'd long felt he needed.
And so, he headed toward javelin throwing. In his past life, he'd always struggled with ranged attacks.
"You want to focus only on javelin throwing?"
"Yes. Is that possible?"
It was a request that could come off as rude, implying the instructor's curriculum was useless.
But the spear arts instructor nodded. He really liked the cadet named Han Do-yoon standing before him.
Han Do-yoon, hailed as a prodigy in fist arts among this intake. He could've just coasted in hand-to-hand classes after whatever promise he'd gotten from the dean.
Yet here he was, commendably stepping up to learn something new—and gratefully, he'd chosen spear arts.
Wanting only javelin throwing was a shame, but an efficient choice. Would someone who'd already mastered fist arts to perfection really use a spear just because he started learning it now?
The instructor wanted to respect this commendable cadet's rational decision.
"Very well. But with other cadets around, I can't carve out special time just for you. I can only teach you javelin during their self-training periods. Train on your own the rest of the time."
"Yes. That's more than enough. Thank you."
Do-yoon bowed his head politely. The instructor nodded in satisfaction. His basic manners were another likable trait. Dealing with all sorts from various dimensions, you got sick of the weirdos.
"Alright, then let's adjust the curriculum a bit... We'll move javelin throwing to tomorrow. Join the other cadets for theory tomorrow."
"Thank you."
Do-yoon's full-fledged training began.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
In the Cradle's dean's office.
There, a shabby old woman dressed as a janitor was meeting with the dean. She was the elderly caretaker in charge of cleaning the cadets' dorms.
"Y-yes... It was definitely... black blood from internal injuries..."
She told the dean in her raspy voice.
Having worked at the Cradle far longer than the dean and cleaned the cadets' dorms all that time, she knew exactly what the black blood splattered on Do-yoon's dorm floor meant. Traces of internal injuries from excessive mana training.
It wasn't unheard of. Occasionally, overzealous new apostles made such mistakes.
"Judging by the amount of blood... it wasn't just once. He kept pushing his body despite the injuries..."
The dean nodded. Normally, this would've been handled by the dorm supervisor, but Han Do-yoon was a cadet the dean was personally keeping tabs on. That's how the report reached his ears.
'So that's why he holed up in his room for a week.'
The mana handicap, a birth defect from his Earthling origins. He'd thrashed about to overcome it.
'Even so... training mana while enduring internal injuries?'
He clicked his tongue. Was that even possible? The mental fortitude was hard to comprehend. He deserved to be called superhuman.
And he was a newbie apostle who'd only been here two weeks.
'What a monster.'
It was recklessly foolish. But as an instructor, a pleased smile crept onto his face at the passion.
Grit. Mental strength. Guts. Whatever you called it, it was one of the most crucial conditions for getting stronger.
Innate fist arts talent. And relentless mental fortitude. The more he dug into this cadet, the more of a gem he found.
And the more his true value shone, the greater the pity grew.
'If only not for the mana handicap... he'd have made history.'
Guilds would've showered him with lavish offers, backed him with major guild resources to max out his potential, spread his name across the continent.
Such a heartbreaking waste of talent.
He reached for a summoning stone to call a healer but paused. No way someone coughing up a puddle of dead blood hadn't sought treatment yet.
Instead, another idea struck.
'Better to boost his regeneration outright.'
The mana handicap and its aftereffects wouldn't resolve in a day or two of training. Might even be impossible.
Given his personality, he'd keep overdoing it every mana session until it was fixed—at least.
A suitable elixir came to mind. Focused on regeneration enhancement, not too rare, great value for money.
Of course, he couldn't just hand it over. Treating injuries was one thing, but elixir support was another. It'd violate fairness.
'Then...'
He picked up a different summoning stone. Soon, the janitor left, and the vice dean entered—the man handling the Cradle's practical operations after the dean.
"You called?"
"For the upcoming tournament exam, add this to the winner's prize. I'll cover it from my own pocket."
"Pardon? Suddenly?"
The dean just grinned silently. Watching a promising talent grow was always rewarding.
These days, with constant external pressure on the Cradle over the boss monster killer fiasco, this was a true breath of fresh air amid the chaos.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Whoosh—
Thwack!
Do-yoon's javelin pierced the air and struck dead center on the target.
The spear arts instructor shook his head in disbelief at Do-yoon's javelin form.
'Insane growth speed...'
Even after personally instructing him for the past week, the instructor could hardly believe it.
This cadet, rated a hand-to-hand prodigy, shockingly had innate talent in spear arts too.
He'd only taught him javelin throwing, but that was enough to tell. He was a spear genius.
Do-yoon picked up another javelin stuck in the ground and hurled it at the target. Bullseye again.
And then.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙Skill 'Javelin Throw' has been created.
A translucent system alert appeared before his eyes.
"Hoo..."
Do-yoon caught his breath and manipulated the system window.
'It's finally here.'
Compared to the two skills he'd acquired earlier, this was glacially slow. Naturally, since this was a new field he was learning from scratch, unlike techniques he already knew.
Now he finally understood the lectures emphasizing how each skill was worth its weight in gold.
'Even this is insanely fast compared to others...'
In truth, generating a skill after just a week of practice was absurdly quick.
This was thanks to his innate trait, [Acquired Genius].
⚔ TRAIT ⚔[Acquired Genius] (Born a dullard, you changed even your aptitudes through a dozen deaths and centuries of effort. You learn new things effortlessly and refine existing ones swiftly. This is not innate enlightenment, but proficiency gained through enormous experience. Thus, your growth is based on what you've seen and heard. Your growth speed receives a correction proportional to your years lived. Your growth form receives a correction based on your experiences.)
Even with the trait's correction, creating a single skill was this tough—what about others without it?
This was the moment he truly felt the importance of skills.
'Now that the skill's here... let's see its effects.'
Do-yoon's heart pounded. The skill correction for Mana Circulation had been incredible. What about this one?
He spun his wrist, honing his senses. The ideal javelin form visualized itself in his mind. Skill correction had massively boosted his proficiency.
"I got the Javelin Throw skill."
Do-yoon tossed the words casually to the instructor, then grabbed another javelin beside him.
"W-what!?"
The instructor thought he'd misheard. Not just the content, but Do-yoon's nonchalant tone.
"Throwing now."
"Wait! Y-you're saying you really got a skill already!?"
"Yes."
He assumed position without looking back at the instructor.
The instructor's chatter faded. In the quiet world, a crisp voice recited in his mind.
'Hero.'
It was Zeke, the greatest spearman in Hero Enoch Războinic's guild.
'Pull your spear-holding right hand all the way back, and extend your left arm sharply forward as a sight.'
Hold the spear lightly, focus purely on precision. Align the shaft by your ear so the eye's focus matches the tip perfectly. Perfect single-point perspective.
'Aim with the spear. Load with the body. What launches isn't some stick—it's your full body weight and motion itself.'
Twist the waist, tense the thighs. In this instant, his entire body became the taut arc of a drawn bow.
'But what shoots from it isn't an arrow—it's a heavy cannonball.'
Body tension maxed out surges from shoulders and forearms to wrist and palm. The moment that energy hits the hand...
'Step forward.'
Body weight, postural spring, muscle power, stepping acceleration.
'Channel all that energy into a single 'line.''
That is javelin throwing.
'Like this?'
Bang—!
With a gunshot-like crack, the spear shot straight ahead.
By the time the instructor and cadets registered the air-shredding whoosh, the spear was already at the target's nose.
The moment the target's plane met the spear's line.
Boom!
The spear shattered the target and kept drawing its line.
After flying far, it finally slowed after punching a hole in the outer wall, bowing to the ground.
Do-yoon awkwardly addressed Zeke.
'Uh... was that okay?'
Zeke slowly clapped heavily.
'Splendid, Hero.'
With the applause, he faded like heat haze from Do-yoon's mind. The heavy claps echoed hollowly, leaving longing and regret in Do-yoon's chest.
Zeke had died on the final journey to slay the Demon King. He'd never see him again.
Do-yoon looked down at his palm. It felt like his whole hand had flown off with the spear. His palm throbbed numbly.
Do-yoon recalled the description of his trait [Acquired Genius].
'Your growth form receives a correction based on your experiences. So that's what it meant.'
The javelin throw he'd just unleashed was strikingly similar to Zeke's, one of his past-life comrades. Not in completion—unworthy to compare—but the form itself matched.
Zeke had never taught Enoch javelin. The voice in his head wasn't mere memory replay.
It was the phantom projected from Do-yoon's experience of watching Zeke's throws countless times.
The instructor had taught him javelin. Yet Do-yoon's throw was Zeke's.
Growth form corrected based on experiences. Meaning, as Do-yoon's techniques grew, they'd resemble those from his memories.
The essences of countless geniuses he'd witnessed over centuries were being inherited into Do-yoon.
'...Not bad.'
He flexed his hand absentmindedly. Savoring the sensation Zeke's technique left in his palm. An unconscious move to hold onto the nostalgia of a lost comrade.
The instructor and surrounding cadets froze, mouths agape, staring at Do-yoon in stunned awe. Oblivious, Do-yoon gazed only at his own palm.