Damon woke to the sharp sll of antiseptic and the soft, steady beeping of a heart monitor.
For a while, he stayed still, staring up at the ceiling as the familiar reality slowly settled around him. The infirmary. Again. The sa white tiles overhead, the sa IV stand waiting beside the bed.
"That’s got to be so kind of record," he murmured.
"Actually, the record is four tis in two weeks. Third-year combat track. He walked into a portal completely unprepared and got his spine rearranged by a C-Rank Wendigo."
Damon turned his head. Lena was sitting in the plastic chair beside his bed, arms folded tightly, her expression caught sowhere between relief and the very specific kind of anger she seed to save just for him.
"Morning," he said.
"It’s afternoon. You’ve been out for six hours."
"New personal best."
Lena didn’t laugh. She didn’t even punch him in the arm, and that told him more than her words ever could about how bad this really was.
"A janitor found you in the corridor outside the gym," she said, her voice flat as she recited the facts. "You were unconscious, bleeding from the mouth, and your ribs were cracked in two places."
She held his gaze.
"The doctors said it looked like you’d been hit by a freight train. Care to explain?"
"Matthew."
Her eyes widened. "Matthew Voss? He did this to you?"
"Technically, I did this to myself. I threw the first punch."
"You what?"
Damon pushed himself upright, wincing as his ribs protested. The pain was duller than he had expected, softened by whatever the infirmary had pumped into his system. He flexed his fingers and felt the bandages around his knuckles pull against his skin.
"He cornered and I didn’t back down. We fought." He paused, then added, "I lost. Badly obviously."
Lena stared at him for a long mont before letting out a long breath and sinking back into her chair.
"You’re an idiot. I know it’s getting old, but you’re literally just a complete and total idiot."
"You’re not wrong."
"This isn’t funny, Damon. Matthew is B-Rank. He could have killed you."
"He wasn’t trying to kill . He was trying to put in my place." Damon touched his ribs, tracing the faint ridge of healed bone beneath the skin. "But the thing is, Lena... I hit him back."
She frowned. "What do you an?"
"I an, I used a skill. A real one from the system, and I cracked his shell."
The words lingered in the space between them. Lena’s expression shifted, anger giving way to confusion, then to sothing that looked almost like awe.
"Your system," she said slowly. "It’s working?"
"Yeah."
Damon let the golden screen flicker into view, the text steady and warm. It was finally ti for him to reveal it, especially to soone who helped him a lot in his journey.
"It’s working."
[SYSTEM STATUS – RESONATOR: DAMON PERSIVAL]
[CLASS: SOVEREIGN]
[LEVEL: 1]
[STR: 17]
[AGI: 14]
[VIT: 16]
[MAG: 20]
[STAT POINTS AVAILABLE: 5]
Lena leaned forward, her eyes scanning the screen, widening at the information before her.
"What in the world are those stats!?"
She shot to her feet, the plastic chair clattering to the floor as she stared at the screen, her hands gripping the edge of the bed.
"A level one with those stats!? Not only that... but everything is spread so high. You have more strength than a martial class and more magic than a magic class..."
Her voice trailed off, and for the first ti since Damon had known her, Lena seed genuinely speechless.
"That’s not possible," she finally managed. "Level ones don’t have stats like this. Even combat-track students with S-Rank systems start with maybe fourteen in their primary stat. Maybe sixteen if they’re lucky. But you’re sitting at twenty magic and seventeen strength. At level one."
"I’m aware."
"How? How is this possible?"
Damon dismissed the screen with a wave of his hand.
"The class is called Sovereign; apparently, it had specific requirents. That’s all I know, and I’ve spent the last month working to et it. The stats ca with the unlock."
Lena picked up her chair and sat back down, her movents slow and deliberate, as if she needed the ti to process.
"And your abilities?"
"Two so far. One is an active skill; it’s what cracked Matthew’s Shell. Sovereign’s Leadership is a passive, lets borrow a skill from a subordinate."
"A subordinate?" Lena’s eyebrow arched. "What does that an?"
"I don’t know yet. The system hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with definitions." He flexed his bandaged fingers. "But I have theories. None of them are particularly humble."
Lena was quiet for a long mont, her gaze fixed on the empty space where the golden screen had been. When she spoke again, her voice was softer.
"So what happens now? You’ve got a working system and stats that break every known standard. Are you going to tell the academy?"
Damon considered the question. The academy had spent two years writing him off. The professors had signed transfer forms.
The students had whispered behind his back. And the only reason he’d been given three more months was because he’d nearly died saving soone.
"I don’t know yet," he admitted. "If I reveal it now, I’ll beco a spectacle. Every professor will want to study , and every student will want to challenge ."
"Well, you are the son of Lucas Persival."
"Yeah... I am."
***
Damon spent the rest of the day in the infirmary, staring at the ceiling tiles and running calculations through his head. The doctors had pumped him full of recovery potions, the real kind, dical-grade D-Rank draughts that made Lena’s batches look like flavored water.
By evening, his ribs had knitted completely, and the swelling in his knuckles had faded to a faint yellow bruise.
[VIT: 16] was pulling its weight.
He was discharged at sundown with a stern warning to avoid fighting B-Ranks in corridors and a prescription for mild pain relievers he didn’t intend to take. The walk back to his dorm was quiet, the campus settling into its evening rhythm, students moving between the dining hall and the recreation sector.
A few glanced his way. Word had spread, apparently. The systemless freak had gotten himself beaten unconscious by Matthew Voss. Nothing new there, except...
Except so of the looks weren’t pitying. They were curious. Uncertain. As if the students watching him pass weren’t quite sure they believed the official story.
Damon ignored them.
Tomorrow, he’ll show it once the practicals arrive.
Back in his dorm, he sat on the edge of his bed and pulled up the system screen. The golden text shimred into view.
[STAT POINTS AVAILABLE: 5]
Five points. He’d been sitting on them since the unlock, waiting until he understood his class well enough to make an inford decision. The fight with Matthew had given him data.
Sovereign’s Strike was a STR-based ability, and its damage output was significant enough to crack B-Rank defenses. But his MAG stat was his highest, and he suspected the Sovereign class would lean heavily on magical abilities as he leveled.
But at the sa ti, that fight also taught him that speed was just as important as pure destructive power. Doesn’t matter how hard he strikes if he can’t dodge and hit his punches.
[SYSTEM STATUS – RESONATOR: DAMON PERSIVAL]
[CLASS: SOVEREIGN]
[LEVEL: 1]
[STR: 17]
[AGI: 14] -> [AGI: 19]
[VIT: 16]
[MAG: 20]
[STAT POINTS AVAILABLE: 0]
"Yeah, that should be good."
***
Damon woke up earlier than usual, but this ti, it wasn’t for a workout. Right now, he had other things to worry about.
Today’s schedule was practicals. That ant duels, portal runs, and actual life-or-death combat experience.
It was the academy’s version of self-learning ti, where instead of studying through books and lectures, students learned through live combat tutors, or, if they were feeling brave, through the academy’s permanent portals.
A dedicated farming ground for new slayers.
And more importantly, a place where countless students had been grievously injured, with so even losing their lives.
And that was exactly where Damon wanted to be. But for that, he needed to wake up early and alert one of the professors in charge of practicals before anyone else arrived.
He wanted to make sure he didn’t cause a scene by announcing that he had finally unlocked his system right in front of his peers.
If they wanted to see his new awakening. Then they had to see it firsthand, not just hear about it, he thought to himself.
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