The idea crystallized in Lance’s mind.
Skill Books and Inheritance Crystals.
Right now, he only knew the [Federation Basic Military CQC]. It was basic, sure, but if he could patch the theoretical holes in it? He could turn a standard-issue manual into a weapon of mass destruction.
Lance pulled up his status panel again. He needed to see the full picture.
[User Status Panel]
Name: Lance
Class: Apprentice Warrior
Constitution: 5
Soul: 5
Talents:
[Undying God-Body] (SSS): +300% Stats.
[Elemental Saint Body] (SS): +1000x Comprehension & Training Speed.
Skills: [Basic Military CQC] (Unranked, Mastery: 12/100)
[System Note]: Excess high-tier mana energy from the [Elemental Saint Body] reconstruction has permanently reinforced base attributes.
Lance stared at the numbers.
Constitution: 5.
A wave of euphoria hit him. With his 300% modifier, his burst strength was now 1,500 kilograms.
That wasn’t Apprentice level. That was legitimate [Bronze Rank · 1-Star] power.
His combat instructor—a retired veteran who had actually attended an Advanced War Academy—was only a [Bronze Rank · 2-Star].
Lance had surpassed decades of his teacher’s hard work in less than an hour.
This is what it feels like to be a pay-to-win player, Lance thought, grinning. Actually, scratch that. I’m the dev.
But he couldn't get drunk on power yet. He needed technique. 1,500kg of force was useless if he telegraphed every punch like an amateur. A skilled veteran would dance around him and put him in the dirt.
He focused on the skill line.
System. Check the manual.
Ding.
Skill Detected: [Basic Military CQC]
Scanning Theoretical Model...
1,254 Exploits Found.
Execute Repair Protocol? [Y/N]
Lance’s eyes lit up. Only 1,200 exploits? Low potential compared to my body, but still...
If he could optimize this, imagine what he could do with an ancient, forbidden grimoire. He could take a forgotten shard and patch it into a Mythic-tier spellbook.
For now, he needed to fix his CQC. He needed to know what a "perfect" basic martial art looked like.
"Repair it," he commanded.
Ding.
[System Alert]
Daily Patch Limit Reached (2/2).
Please wait for daily reset.
Lance blinked. A daily limit?
He paused. Then he smiled.
Oh, that is perfect.
If it was a one-time resource, he’d have to hoard it. But a daily reset? That was infinite scalability.
He had the [Undying God-Body]. He wasn't going to die of old age anytime soon. Even normal humans lived to 200 in this era. Silver Rank warriors lived to 300. Gold Rank? 500 years.
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500 years meant 180,000 days. That was 360,000 patches.
And with the System, he wouldn't need 500 years to hit Gold Rank. He’d probably do it in a year.
Fine. I can wait until tomorrow for the CQC upgrade, Lance decided. Let's test out the Ferrari engine I just installed.
Elemental Saint Body. 1000x efficiency. Let's see if I can break through to Bronze Rank by dinner.
He shifted his stance, feet planting firmly on the cheap synthetic floor of his bedroom. He snapped a punch into the empty air.
WHOOSH.
The air cracked. A sharp wind pressure blasted from his fist, ruffling the papers on his desk.
Nice.
He began to flow through the forms of the [Basic Military CQC].
It was the standard Federation curriculum. Every soldier, every student, even the snobby noble kids started with this. Rumor had it the Legendary Grand Marshal, the "Dragon Rider Lord," had optimized it himself. It sounded like generic trash, but it was actually a masterpiece of biomechanics.
Crucially, it wasn't just for killing. It was a moving meditation—a [Somatic Conditioning Protocol].
As Lance moved, he felt it.
The mana energy in the room wasn't just drifting; it was rushing toward him. It wasn't the violent flood of the System upgrade, but it was a steady, heavy stream. In minutes, he absorbed more energy than he had in the last month of grueling training.
And it wasn't just the energy.
His mind felt crystal clear. The 1000x Comprehension buff was kicking in. Moves that used to feel clunky or awkward suddenly made perfect sense. He understood the leverage, the flow, the intent behind every strike.
Ding.
Skill Progression Update.
Through high-intensity combat simulation, [Basic Military CQC] mastery has increased.
New Mastery Level: [Master]
Bonus Effect: Training Efficiency +120%.
An hour later, the chime echoed again.
Lance snapped his eyes open.
"Master Level in one hour?" He grinned, sweat dripping from his forehead. "And a 120% efficiency bonus? So my total multiplier just jumped from 1000x to 1200x."
He did the math. He was now leveling faster than a demigod on steroids.
His instructor had lectured them endlessly about Skill Mastery. In this world, everything—Battle Arts, Spells, even cooking—had a strict hierarchy: [Novice], [Proficient], [Expert], [Master], and the legendary [Grandmaster].
For conditioning methods, higher mastery meant faster mana absorption.
For combat skills, it meant you stopped flailing and started killing.
If two warriors with equal stats fought—one a Novice, one Proficient—the Proficient one would win in fifty moves. If one was an Expert or Master? It was a massacre. The Master could end the fight in three moves, or solo a group of Novices while eating a sandwich.
The [Basic Military CQC] was no exception.
But reaching [Expert] in this "trash" skill was notoriously hard. Out of thousands of students at the 37th Academy, maybe fifty had hit [Proficient]. Lance was one of them, purely through grinding. His instructor had always said, "Kid, if your body wasn't made of glass, your technique would make you famous."
As for [Master]? Even among the retired veterans teaching at the academy, maybe two or three had reached that level after decades of war.
Lance did it in sixty minutes.
If word got out, Silver Moon City would lose its collective mind.
"The higher the mastery, the faster I grow," Lance muttered, wiping his face. "Time for round two."
He didn't rest. He reset his stance and punched the air.
WHOOSH.
The small room filled with the sound of tearing wind. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Ninety minutes later.
Ding.
Constitution +1.
Lance’s eyes blazed. "Yes!"
His earlier calculation was conservative. He thought it would take two hours per point. But with the Master-level skill bonus, he was speedrunning his own evolution.
And this wasn't just a normal stat point. A normal human gaining +1 CON meant an extra 100kg of force.
Thanks to the [Undying God-Body], Lance's +1 CON was worth 300kg.
He wasn't just leveling up; he was scaling exponentially. This was the difference between a "genius" and an anomaly.
"Again!"
He ignored the grime on his skin—the toxic sludge from the gene repair was starting to smell—and threw himself back into the grind. Survival first. Hygiene later.
Time blurred.
Outside, the neon lights of the slums flickered to life as night fell. The sounds of the city drifted up, but Lance heard nothing but his own breathing and the rhythm of the System.
Seven and a half hours passed.
Ding.
Constitution +1.
Ding.
[System Alert]
Constitution threshold reached: 10.
Rank Up Successful.
Current Rank: [Bronze Rank · 1-Star]
Lance froze as the energy surged through him.
He had crossed the threshold. He was a Bronze Rank Warrior.
In this world, "Apprentice" was just a polite word for "civilian with a sword." Bronze Rank was the real deal. It was the entry ticket to the Professional class. Government benefits, monthly stipends of 10,000 credits just for breathing, resource allocations—it was a different life.
But Lance didn't stop to celebrate. He didn't even unclench his fists.
"Almost there," he gritted out, his eyes burning with focus.
Deep inside his mana circuits, a new power was stirring. A faint, pure stream of Battle Aura began to flow. That was the hallmark of a Bronze Warrior.
But that wasn't what he was chasing.
With every punch, the standard military moves were changing. They were becoming sharper. Deadlier. The air around his fists began to warp with a dangerous, complex frequency.
BOOM.
