Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Time slipped by faster than Ludger expected. In no time at all, he turned five years old. The chaos of moving, the awkward meals, even the constant tension between Elaine and Arslan—everything had settled into something resembling normal life.

Arslan still took jobs as an adventurer, disappearing for weeks at a time, but now he always returned to the same place. His party, too, began to enjoy the small comfort of having a single roof to return to after their journeys. Harold, Selene, Cor, and Aleia all admitted, in their own ways, that the house gave them a sense of normalcy they hadn’t felt in years. A place to sit down, share a meal, and rest without constantly looking over their shoulders.

And in the middle of all that, Ludger grew.

The change was subtle but impossible to miss. His body grew sturdier from training, his eyes sharper with each new piece of knowledge he gathered. Whether it was helping Elaine in the kitchen, sneaking lessons with Maurien, or practicing pugilist skills with Selene, he advanced in ways no normal child should. His steps carried more certainty, his words more weight, his gaze more focus.

At first, the party thought it was simply the natural sharpness of Arslan’s bloodline—mixed with Elaine’s discipline—but the more they watched, the more they realized: this child wasn’t ordinary.

Still, they didn’t press. If anything, their respect for him grew in quiet ways. And for Ludger, that was enough.

When Arslan finally kept his promise and placed a wooden training sword in Ludger’s hands, the boy quickly realized something extraordinary.

The moment he copied his father’s stance and swung clumsily through the air, the system reacted. A new set of screens opened, confirming what he had half-suspected all along: he could freely change classes and jobs at will.

It wasn’t automatic—he had to consciously swap them in and out—but once he did, the world shifted. His body remembered how to tighten its guard from the pugilist’s Iron Guard. His hands recalled the precise rhythm of Knife Handling. His mind summoned the spark of Tinder without hesitation.

But the catch was obvious. While the knowledge stayed in him, the strength of the skills did not. If the skills weren’t equipped in their respective slots, they didn’t grow. He could still use them, but the system wouldn’t reward him for it.

So that’s how it is, Ludger thought as he swung the wooden blade again, the faint memory of Selene’s strikes echoing in his arms. I can swap jobs and classes whenever I want, and carry their skills with me… but only the ones I actively equip will keep leveling.

It was a limitation, but also a gift. With enough time, he could shape himself however he wanted—pugilist, mage, cook, swordsman. Or all of them.

Arslan grinned proudly as he corrected his grip, mistaking his son’s quiet smirk for excitement. “That’s it, Luds! Hold it firm, let the weight guide you. Before long, you’ll be cutting down monsters like your old man.”

Ludger’s eyes flickered with quiet amusement. Not like you, Father. Much, much more than you…. Wait, I am getting too cocky, for a five year old. This is bound to trigger the event where some powerful cultivator kills me with a far.

Name: Ludger

Level: 12 (820 / 1,200)

Current Job: Cook (Lv 20 – 1,100 / 2,000)

Current Class: Pugilist (Lv 11 – 620 / 1,200)

Health: 390 / 390

Mana: 410 / 410

Stamina: 410 / 410

Strength: 37

Dexterity: 43

Intelligence: 42

Vitality: 39

Wisdom: 41

Endurance: 41

Luck: 17

Class Skills (Pugilist):

[Hard Fists Lv 19]

[Iron Guard Lv 12]

[Slot 3]

[Slot 4]

[Slot 5]

Job Skills (Cook):

[Knife Handling Lv 25]

[Seasoning Sense Lv 18]

[Fire Control Lv 16]

[Food Preservation Lv 15]

[Dish Presentation Lv 12]

Other Classes:

Mage (Lv 8 – 480 / 900)

[Create Water Lv 14]

[Tinder Lv 6]

Swordsman (Lv 6 – 250 / 600)

[Basic Swordplay Lv 7]

[Parry Lv 1]

Bonuses per Level:

Cook Job: +1 Dexterity, +1 Intelligence, +1 Wisdom per level

Pugilist Class: +2 Strength, +2 Vitality per level

Mage Class: +2 Intelligence, +2 Wisdom per level

Swordsman Class: +2 Strength, +2 Dexterity per level

This was how much progress Ludger had managed to carve out for himself in five short years. His status screen looked surprisingly balanced—no single stat was running away with all the growth, no glaring weaknesses pulling him down. That wasn’t by accident. He hadn’t focused on any one class or job too much, spreading himself out instead.

But now, staring at the numbers, he found himself wondering what he should do next.

The Pugilist class was straightforward. Run, punch, guard, repeat. The results came quickly, and the effort always rewarded him with growth. It was simple and efficient—almost too efficient.

The Swordsman path, though… that was trickier. Training with a wooden sword was clumsy, restrictive, and a lot harder to grind than hitting the air with his fists. He knew the growth was there, but it came slower, less satisfying, like trudging uphill.

And then there was the Mage class. His spells were undeniably useful, but mana was still a chokehold around his progress. It didn’t matter how clever he was or how efficiently he cast—once the blue bar hit zero, he was done. No clever tricks, no shortcuts. Just waiting for it to refill at a snail’s pace.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing at the shimmering blue screens in front of him. Balanced is nice, but balance alone won’t make me strong. Sooner or later, I’ll need to choose where to push harder.

His gaze lingered on the three options. Fists, sword, or spells. Each had its path forward, and each carried a cost.

Balanced or not, Ludger knew one thing for certain—he also needed money.

Arslan brought coins home from his work as an adventurer, but it wasn’t much. Enough to keep them fed, clothed, and living under a roof, sure, but nowhere near the piles of gold adventurers bragged about in taverns. Most of it disappeared into paying off the debt from their new house, or straight into the hands of tavernkeepers, armorers, and potion sellers.

Arslan wasn’t poor, but he definitely wasn’t rich either. And Ludger didn’t want to grow up relying on scraps from his father’s dangerous job, where one bad mission could erase everything.

If I want freedom, I need my own coin, Ludger thought, narrowing his eyes at the glowing screen in front of him. That means finding jobs and classes that actually earn money, not just make me stronger.

Cooking was useful, but tavern wages barely stretched. Pugilist training didn’t exactly pay, and swinging a wooden sword wasn’t worth a copper. Even magic, for now, drained more than it gave.

That left him with the obvious path: he needed to explore. He had to test new jobs, unlock new classes, and see which ones could both strengthen him and fill his pockets. Watching his parents scrape by, and watching Arslan chain himself to debt, was all the motivation he needed.

He smirked faintly. If I’m going to live in this world, I’m not just going to grind levels—I’m going to build something of my own.

Ludger had been quietly scheming, weighing how he could slip into some side work around Koa without raising too much suspicion. Cleaning tables, carrying trays, odd jobs—small things could build into coin if he was careful. More importantly, each task was a chance to sniff out new jobs and classes.

While he was deep in thought, Arslan strolled over, his arms crossed and an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. “Luds,” he said, “what do you want to do?”

Ludger blinked up at him. “Do?”

“You’re smart for your age,” Arslan went on, “but you’re still just a kid. You can’t spend your whole life training in secret corners. There's a school in Koa. You’d learn all sorts of things—reading, numbers, history—and maybe make some friends your age.”

Ludger tilted his head, weighing the idea. School? He already knew how to count, read, and analyze better than most adults here, but blending in wasn’t the worst option.

Arslan scratched his chin. “But I also heard from Maurien that he’s been teaching you magic.” He lowered his voice, as though that alone carried weight. “That changes things. If you’re already a disciple, your path might look very different than most kids.”

Before Ludger could answer, a sharp voice cut through the air.

“And why,” Elaine said as she marched in, green eyes flashing, “was I not invited to this little discussion about the future of my son?”

Arslan nearly jumped, his confident posture collapsing like wet parchment. “Elaine, I was just—”

“You were just,” she interrupted, her tone sweet but dangerous, “deciding important things without me again?”

Ludger pinched the bridge of his nose. Here we go…

Arslan lifted his hands defensively, but his voice was steady. “I’m not deciding for him, Elaine. I’m saying he’s already shown talent. I want to keep teaching him the sword. And maybe—maybe when he’s ready—he could even come along on smaller jobs. Earn some money, get experience, see the world.”

Elaine’s eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a hard line. “You mean drag him into danger before he’s old enough to understand what danger even is?”

“He’s not just any kid!” Arslan argued, pointing a finger toward Ludger. “You’ve seen it too. He’s sharper, quicker. Maurien himself said he’s gifted with magic. If Maurien’s willing, I could talk to him about making Ludger his real disciple, not just some child dabbling with sparks of water and fire.”

Elaine crossed her arms, her voice cool and sharp as a blade. “Or—and here’s a radical idea—he could be safe. He could go to school. He could live a normal life, surrounded by children his age instead of adventurers twice his size. No labyrinths, no swords, no danger breathing down his neck.”

Arslan’s brows furrowed. “That’s not who he is, Elaine. You can see it, can’t you? He doesn’t fit the mold of ‘normal.’ Forcing him into that life would only hold him back.”

“And pushing him into your reckless life will break him,” she shot back.

Ludger sat quietly between them, his eyes flicking from one parent to the other like he was watching a tennis match with blades instead of rackets. Sword training, Maurien’s magic, or a normal life at school. Great. One of them’s trying to turn me into a mini-adventurer, the other into a normal kid. Meanwhile, I’ve already decided I’m going to be something else entirely.

Ludger leaned back in his chair as his parents continued their tug-of-war, tuning out their voices for a moment. It wasn’t like he was desperate for what Elaine kept insisting on—“a normal childhood.”

He saw kids often enough in Koa. They ran through the streets, played games in the alleys, shouted and laughed in ways that made his ears ring. But he never felt the pull to join them. Why would he?

Most of them already knew of him anyway. Whispers spread fast in a city like this. The boy who could use magic. Maurien’s so-called disciple. Even if Ludger wanted to, most kids kept their distance. The few who didn’t were dragged away by their worried parents.

Not that Ludger minded. He smirked faintly to himself. Kids with superpowers, huh? Doesn’t that sound like an excellent combination? What could possibly go wrong?

The thought almost made him laugh out loud, but he held it in. If anything, the distance worked in his favor. Less noise, less trouble, more time to train. Friends could come later—if he decided he even needed them.

As his parents kept trading arguments, Ludger rested his cheek against his hand, his eyes half-lidded. What am I supposed to do here?

If he agreed to anything that involved leaving home for weeks—adventuring, training, whatever—his mother would inevitably activate her hidden, overpowered technique: Unlimited Waterworks. Tears were a woman’s strongest weapon, after all, and Elaine had the talent of a grandmaster when it came to guilt-tripping through sheer emotion.

On the other hand, if he sided against his father and flatly refused anything sword-related, Arslan would collapse under the weight of his ultimate despair skill: King of Depression. He’d mope around for weeks, sighing dramatically and looking like a kicked puppy until someone patted him on the head.

Ludger exhaled through his nose, staring up at the wooden ceiling. Great. I’m stuck between a crying mother and a sulking father. This isn’t strategy—it’s psychological warfare.

He sat up straighter, watching both of them from the corner of his eye as they glared at each other over his head. This is a troublesome spot to be in. If I pick one, the other collapses. Maybe the real skill I need isn’t magic or fists—it’s diplomacy.

At last, Ludger raised his hand, palm open like a referee trying to stop a match. “I’m not ready to make my choice yet.”

The words dropped into the room like stones into a pond. For a moment, both Elaine and Arslan froze, their next arguments dying on their tongues.

Elaine’s arms slowly uncrossed, her expression softening as she studied her son. Arslan rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away sheepishly.

Ludger leaned back, keeping his voice steady. “If I choose now, I might be throwing away other options before I even see what they are. I’m still figuring things out. So… I’ll decide when I’m ready.”

The silence stretched for a few heartbeats longer, and then, to Ludger’s relief, both parents seemed to accept it.

Elaine exhaled through her nose and gave a faint nod. “You’re right. Forcing you into a decision now would be selfish.”

Arslan sighed, his grin returning, though it carried a tinge of guilt. “Guess I got a little carried away. You’re smart, Luds. Better we let you figure it out your way.”

Ludger’s shoulders loosened. Finally. Argument defused.

In the end, they both realized what he had already known from the start—it was better to leave the choice in his hands, instead of excluding who knew how many paths he might one day have.

Later that afternoon, Ludger slipped out of the house, leaving his parents to stew in their uneasy truce. The air in Koa was brisk, filled with the noise of merchants hawking wares and carts rattling along the cobblestone streets. He walked without much of a destination, just letting his thoughts turn over.

Which path should I test next? Do I grind fists, swords, or spells? Or should I aim for something completely different? Cooking pays, but it won’t make me strong. Pugilist training is easy, but not exactly subtle. And magic is still chained by that cursed mana bar…

He kicked a loose stone down the road, hands tucked behind his back. If I don’t choose soon, I’ll keep spreading myself too thin. Balanced, sure, but balanced doesn’t win wars.

As he rounded a corner near the edge of the marketplace, he froze. Standing there, pipe in hand, eyes glinting beneath his hood, was none other than Maurien.

“Boy,” the old mage greeted, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

Ludger narrowed his eyes. Of course. Too convenient. Did he hear the shouts of my parents earlier? The whole neighborhood probably did…

Maurien tilted his head, studying Ludger with that same unreadable gaze. “You look like someone carrying weight beyond his years. Care to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Ludger’s lips twitched. Oh, wonderful. Now the old man’s playing therapist.

Ludger hesitated for a moment, but the words slipped out anyway. “It’s my parents. They’ve been… arguing over what I should do with my life. School, training, magic—you name it.” He crossed his arms, looking away. “I don’t really care about their fight. What I want is to figure out how to make money for myself. That’s what matters.”

Maurien raised a bushy eyebrow, smoke curling from his pipe as he studied the boy. “Money, hmm?” He exhaled a long, gray stream into the air. “That’s a strange priority for someone your age. Most children your age worry about games, sweets, and bedtime stories. Not silver coins.”

Ludger shrugged, his voice flat. “That’s because most kids don’t have to think about debt. Or what happens if their father doesn’t come back from a job. Or if their mother works herself sick trying to keep food on the table. I don’t want to rely on luck—or on someone else’s pockets. I need my own way.”

Maurien was quiet for a moment, watching him with a gaze that seemed to peer straight through his skin. Then the old mage gave a low chuckle. “Practical. Cautious. You sound less like a boy and more like a man who’s already lived his share of regrets.”

Ludger forced a thin smile. You have no idea…

Maurien tapped the end of his pipe against his palm. “Very well. If it’s money you seek, then perhaps you’ve been looking in the wrong places. Skills aren’t just weapons, boy—they’re tools. And the right tool, in the right hands, is worth more than a sack of gold.”

Ludger’s eyes narrowed in interest.

As long as he doesn’t want me to sell drugs or weed. I am game.