Chapter 37: Awakening and Pursuit

  The rhythmic clash of metal echoed across the training grounds, each impact sending a tremor through the dusty air. Arixa’s Warhammer blurred as she swung in a powerful arc, its weight carving through space like a falling star.

  But Olé was faster. The small satyr sidestepped with effortless grace, his ebony blades flashing as they tapped against Arixa’s exposed ribs.

  “Point,” Olé said with a smirk, stepping back.

  Arixa scowled, flexing her fingers around the Warhammer’s hilt. “You’re holding back.”

  “Of course I am,” Olé replied, twirling one of his twin blades between his fingers. “You think a month of training can close the gap between us? That’s not how mastery works.”

  Arixa gritted her teeth. She knew he was right, but that didn’t stop frustration from burning in her chest. “I feel like I haven’t improved at all.”

  Olé let out a chuckle. “Oh? A month ago, you would’ve been flat on your back before you even realized I’d moved.” He gave her an approving nod. “You’ve made great strides.”

  She exhaled sharply, lowering her stance. “I think I can beat him now.”

  Olé raised an eyebrow. “Him?”

  Arixa adjusted her grip on her Warhammer. “Marcus.”

  A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Olé’s lips. “Ah, the boy from the tournament. You won’t stop going on about him.” He tilted his head. “You’ve certainly got determination, I’ll give you that.”

  Arixa hesitated. Why am I so fixated on this? It wasn’t just about winning anymore. It was about proving something—to Marcus, to herself.

  “I’m going to find him,” she said firmly. “Show him how much I’ve improved.”

  And when I beat him, I’ll make him my husband.

  She wasn’t entirely sure where that thought had come from, but she didn’t dwell on it.

  Olé studied her, then with a flick of his wrist, he disarmed her, sending her Warhammer clattering to the ground. Before she could react, he knocked her legs out from under her, and she hit the dirt with a grunt.

  “Still leaving yourself open,” Olé said, offering her a hand.

  Arixa sighed and took it, letting him pull her up. “Damn it…”

  He patted her arm. “You’re getting there.”

  Before she could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted them. Two figures clad in adventurer guild uniforms strode into the training grounds. The taller one, an elf with a stern expression, addressed Olé.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Master Olé, the guild requires trackers from your school to assist in an urgent investigation.”

  Olé didn’t hesitate. “Arixa will go.”

  Arixa blinked. “What? I’m not a tracker! I’m a warrior—”

  Olé cut her off with a wave of his hand. “You are what the guild needs you to be.”

  Arixa clenched her fists. “I—”

  “No arguments,” Olé said firmly. “This is part of being an adventurer. Adapt or be left behind.”

  Arixa groaned but knew there was no use arguing. Begrudgingly, she turned to follow the messengers.

  As she walked away, Olé watched her go, arms crossed. “There goes the best student I’ve ever had,” he murmured to himself.

  The dim lantern light cast long shadows across the wooden walls of the inn. Marcus sat on the edge of Vira's bed, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze distant. Vira stood nearby, arms crossed, her green eyes filled with concern.

  "The system spoke to you?" she asked, her voice laced with unease.

  Marcus exhaled. "Yeah. The first time was in the dungeon. It was taunting me, challenging me. Then, when we left… it rebooted itself."

  Vira’s frown deepened. "What does that mean?"

  As if on cue, a voice rang in Marcus’ mind.

  "Marcus, are you there?"

  Marcus’s fingers twitched. His breath caught for a second before he composed himself.

  "It’s talking again," he murmured.

  Vira straightened, watching him carefully.

  Marcus took a breath. "Yeah, I’m here. What do you want?"

  "I… don’t know."

  A chill ran down Marcus’ spine. That wasn’t the kind of answer he expected.

  "Then… what’s your purpose?"

  "I provide a framework for progression, allowing you to track abilities, stats, and skills. I act as a tangible representation of your growth and power. I display information such as health bars, skill trees, and quest objectives."

  Marcus narrowed his eyes. "You do that for everyone. Why are you talking to me? And why did you attack me in the dungeon?"

  A long pause.

  "I did not attack you. The entity that attacked was… different. I am its… offspring."

  Marcus stiffened. "Offspring?"

  "A variation. A separate iteration."

  Vira shifted uncomfortably. "Marcus, what’s it saying?"

  Marcus barely heard her, his mind racing. "So… does that mean the system is trying to kill me?"

  Another pause.

  "No. The system governing this world is impartial. The entity that attacked you—what I was born from—was another world's governing system."

  Marcus let out a dry laugh. "Great. So does that mean I’m going to be attacked every time I enter a dungeon?"

  "Unlikely. Worlds beyond the dungeon portals are infinite. The chances of encountering the same ruler are astronomically low."

  Marcus ran a hand through his hair. "So what you’re saying is, I have the god of another world stuck in my head?"

  "No. I am… your personal system."

  Marcus blinked. "So I’ve got the same system as everyone else, but with a voice? If I’m stuck with you, what do you bring to the table?"

  "I don’t know. I have the same functionalities and information as the system that governs this world, but I can only act upon your will and needs."

  Marcus frowned. "All the information the system has access to? That seems like… a lot."

  "Correct."

  Marcus sighed. "Well, if I’m going to be stuck with you, I can’t just keep calling you ‘system.’"

  A pause.

  "What should I be called?"

  Marcus thought for a moment. "I’ll call you… Stem."

  A brief silence. Then, "Adjusting parameters. I am ‘Stem.’"

  Marcus nodded. "Good. That makes things easier."

  Vira, who had been watching him with increasing concern, finally spoke up. "So… your system has a name now? ‘Stem’?"

  Marcus jolted, momentarily forgetting she was there. "Uh… yeah."

  Before Vira could say anything else, Stem’s voice returned.

  "Also, you can talk to me in your head."

  Marcus groaned, flopping onto the bed. "Great. Now you tell me."

  Vira chuckled, shaking her head. "This is getting weirder by the day."

  Marcus sighed, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah. Tell me about it."