A system?
Lysil had only one option left.
The crushing weight of his father's debts and the shame of his ruined life had backed him into a corner.
And so, he chose to end everything.
"That explains the blood," Travis muttered, staring down at his trembling, bloodstained hands.
A wave of nausea churned in his stomach as he tried to reconcile the violent act with the fragmented memories of Lysil Romarc.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed past the unsettling imagery and focused on his surroundings.
The room reeked of stale air, the faint scent of parchment and ink barely masking the underlying stench of despair.
Musty shelves lined the walls, sagging under the weight of ancient tomes and scrolls. A single desk, its polished surface dulled with age, stood near the center of the room.
Lysil's memories surged forward, filling the gaps in Travis's understanding. His father's study room.
A place once alive with the warmth of scholarly pursuit and familial pride now felt like a tomb.
Travis groaned as he forced himself to stand, his body aching from the cold, hard floor.
He staggered toward the study chair near the desk, each step a battle against the lingering disorientation.
"So now I have to shoulder the whole debt? What a fantastic situation to wake up to," he muttered, sarcasm thick in his voice.
As he neared the chair, his foot caught on something small and metallic. Frowning, he bent down to pick it up.
A golden locket, tarnished with age but still gleaming faintly, rested in his palm.
Lysil's memories flared once again, revealing its significance—a cherished gift from his father before he departed for magic training.
"Guess this is all that's left of you," Travis murmured, running a thumb over the intricate engravings.
The moment his fingers made contact, the locket erupted in a blinding white light.
Reflexively, Travis shielded his eyes, his pulse quickening as an intense, searing pain tore through his skull. It felt as if his mind was being ripped apart.
"The hell?!" he gasped, his voice strained. He tried to fling the locket away, but it was gone—vanished as though it had never been there.
Panic surged as he frantically searched the floor, his hands trembling, but there was nothing.
Before he could make sense of the pain or the disappearance, a translucent blue window materialized before his eyes, its blocky font glowing faintly.
---
[System Activated!]
[Initiating host bonding...]
[Compatibility: 100%]
[Synchronizing... 1%, 2%... 50%...]
---
The bar froze.
---
[Failed!]
[Failed!]
[Synchronization incomplete!]
[Host has unlocked the incomplete Legacy!]
---
Travis blinked, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"What the hell is this?" he muttered, squinting at the words floating in his vision.
The notification seemed like something straight out of a game—an interface he'd only ever read about in fantasy novels.
Tentatively, he reached out to touch the screen, but his hand passed through it like a phantom.
"Okay, think..." he mumbled, attempting to process the situation.
'Maybe I can control it with my mind?' he wondered.
As if responding to his thought, the notification vanished. Relief washed over him—but it was short-lived. Another message immediately replaced the first.
---
[First legacy will now be passed on!]
[The legacy of the God Mage!]
[Transcending the scale of average mage power, he held knowledge far beyond the rest.]
[Host has acquired Orion's Knowledge!]
---
Before Travis could react, a flood of information poured into his mind. Unlike the chaotic pain of Lysil's memories, this influx was orderly, as if an unseen hand carefully placed each piece where it belonged.
It was a revelation—a glimpse into the profound understanding of magic, its secrets, and the untapped potential that had eluded Lysil all his life. Travis's breathing slowed as he absorbed it all, his mind expanding with new possibilities.
---
[Evolution has now begun!]
[The first gates have been unlocked!]
[Become stronger and fulfill the legacy of the God Mage!]
---
Travis's eyes glowed with a faint golden light, a soft hum resonating in his chest. As the notifications disappeared, he exhaled deeply, his mind racing.
"So that's why Lysil was stuck," he murmured, realization dawning on him.
"The block in his mana flow... his teacher must not have known. If only he'd had this knowledge, he could've—" Travis cut himself off, a determined glint in his eyes.
"No point dwelling on the past. I have this knowledge now. Let's see what I can do."
His lips curled into a small smile. As someone who had spent countless hours devouring fantasy novels, the concept of mana wasn't foreign to him. But now, he had the chance to experience it firsthand.
"This world runs on magic," Travis said, pacing the room.
"Mages are revered, their power respected. If I can master this, I'll have a way out of this mess. No more debts. No more pity."
He moved to a clear corner of the study, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, the faint scent of old parchment filling his lungs.
Meditation wasn't new to him—his doctors had recommended it as a way to manage his heart condition—but this was different. This time, he wasn't seeking peace.
He was seeking power.
'Breathe,' he thought, focusing inward. Slowly, the chaotic thoughts in his mind settled, like leaves drifting to the bottom of a still pond.
He visualized the teachings from Orion's Knowledge, following the steps as if guided by an unseen hand.
Then, he saw it.
A faint glow in the depths of his being—a core of light nestled just below his abdomen.
Around him, though his eyes remained closed, he sensed the air shifting. Tiny sparks of blue energy flickered in the room, dancing like fireflies.
'This is mana,' Travis thought, his heart pounding with excitement. He reached out mentally, coaxing the sparks toward him. At first, they trickled in, soft and hesitant. But as his focus deepened, the flow intensified, like a stream turning into a rushing river.
The energy surged through him, filling every corner of his being with a warmth that was both exhilarating and overwhelming.
His body trembled under the weight of it, but he gritted his teeth and held on, determined not to falter.
[Congratulations! Host has become an Adept Mage!]