The party began murmuring among themselves, their eyes flicking between Selene’s furrowed brow and Ludger’s smug little grin. The axe-wielder crossed his arms, the huntress leaned forward with clear curiosity, and even the mage’s normally calm face showed a flicker of intrigue.

“Test him again,” Harold rumbled.

“Yeah,” the huntress added, smirking. “See how far the boy can go.”

Before Selene could say anything, Ludger lifted his fists and said, “Nope!”

Then he bolted.

Tiny legs pumping, he darted out of the practice space and began running circles around the house, ignoring the baffled stares from the adventurers. Dust kicked up behind him as he rounded corners, his breath steady.

He wasn’t running because he was scared—he was running because explaining all of this would be way too much trouble. What was he supposed to say? Oh yeah, by the way, I’ve got a magic glowing screen that hands me stats and skills whenever you people do something cool.

No. Too messy. Too risky.

Better to just keep his mouth shut and grind quietly. He could learn from the others later—each of them probably had at least one trick worth stealing.

As he jogged, Ludger smirked to himself. So they really can’t see it. The notifications, the levels—it’s just me. They don’t even realize the system exists, or maybe they can’t interact with it the way I can.

That was good. That meant he had an edge.

And Ludger was determined to use it.

Over the next few days, Ludger’s life took on an unusual rhythm.

Each morning, after Elaine finished her work at the tavern, Arslan’s party would stop by. Not to drink or eat—but to watch him. Harod, the axe-wielder, leaned against the fence with his massive arms crossed, grinning whenever Ludger threw himself into drills. The huntress lounged nearby, sharp green eyes following every movement, occasionally offering a tip about balance or footwork. The mage always had his nose in a book but peeked up whenever Ludger tried something new, making quiet, thoughtful notes to himself. Selene, of course, kept her arms crossed and her amber eyes locked on him, quick to correct his stance, sharper still when he slacked off.

And Ludger? He thrived under the attention. Each punch, each step, each burst of stamina fed into his skills, the system humming quietly in the background as his numbers climbed little by little.

Arslan, however, was a different matter.

He came too, drawn like a moth to a flame. But every time he stepped into view, Elaine’s face tightened. She never raised her voice, never confronted him again, but she made it very clear: she wasn’t ready. Not yet.

So, Arslan stayed back.

He watched from a distance, standing behind his party with his arms folded, his brown eyes fixed on Ludger as though trying to memorize every movement. Sometimes, his lips would part as if he wanted to say something—but then he’d glance toward the house, and his jaw would snap shut.

He knew that if he pressed, if he tried to come closer without Elaine’s approval, it would only make her angry again.

For Ludger, the man’s presence was more nuisance than comfort. He could feel Arslan’s eyes on him, heavy and unspoken, but chose to ignore them. “If he wants to stand there like a statue, fine. I’ve got better things to do—like getting stronger.”

So, while his so-called father stood in silence, Ludger threw himself into training, each punch and step widening the gap between the man Arslan was and the boy Ludger was becoming.

Two weeks passed in a blur of bruised knuckles, sore arms, and dust rising from the yard as Ludger punched and ran and punched again. The system kept tally as always, quiet dings of progress marking each day.

Finally, during one particularly focused session against Selene’s palms, the notification he had been waiting for flickered across his vision:

(Skill: Hard Fists has reached Lv.11)

(Class: Pugilist has gained experience)

(Class: Pugilist has reached Lv.5)

(+2 Strength, +2 Vitality per level up applied)

Ludger staggered back, chest heaving, but his smirk only widened. He flexed his little hands and then squeezed them into fists again. They felt heavier now—not clumsy, but solid. His whole body felt denser, sturdier, like the difference between wet clay and fired brick.

The system wasn’t done.

(New Skill Unlocked: Iron Guard — Lv.01)

Iron Guard (Lv.01): By bracing your body at the right moment, you reduce the damage of physical strikes. Consumes stamina depending on impact.

Ludger’s grin turned sharp. “Perfect. Offense and defense. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

He threw a few more punches into the air, reveling in the stronger snap of his fists. His lungs didn’t burn as quickly, his legs didn’t wobble as much, and even when Selene tested him with a sharp shove to the shoulder, he held his ground better than before.

He wasn’t just a toddler anymore—he was becoming a pugilist, step by step, fist by fist.

Selene’s sharp amber eyes narrowed as she saw a change in Ludger’s body, even though she didn’t know what it was.. She crossed her arms, then jabbed a finger at him.

“You picked something up just now, didn’t you?”

Ludger smirked but didn’t answer. His silence was enough.

Selene cracked her knuckles and stepped forward. “Alright then. Let’s see how much it’s worth. Brace yourself, kid.”

She raised her hand and flicked a quick jab into his shoulder. Ludger instinctively triggered Iron Guard, his body stiffening as the blow landed. He slid half a step back, but he didn’t topple.

The axe-wielder barked a laugh. “Careful, Selene. You’ll break your hand on him if you try too hard!”

The huntress leaned lazily on her bow, grinning. “Are you seriously picking fights with toddlers now?”

Even the mage smirked faintly. “Desperate to prove yourself against someone knee-high, are you?”

Selene’s amber eyes twitched, but she ignored them. Instead, she drew her fist back further this time, her muscles coiling. “Shut it. If he’s really learning skills like this, it’s better to test him properly than coddle him. He won’t get stronger if I treat him like glass.”

Her tone was sharp, but there was a flicker of something else in her expression—approval.

Ludger clenched his teeth and braced again, his little fists curling tight. The glow of Iron Guard wrapped faintly around him as Selene’s next strike came in heavier, sharper.

The impact echoed with a dull thud. Ludger staggered back a full step, his feet digging into the dirt, but he held his ground. His fists trembled, his arms ached, but the skill had softened the blow.

Selene raised her eyebrows, lowering her fist slowly. “…Not bad. Not bad at all.”

Her party chuckled behind her, still amused at the sight of their comrade sparring with a child—but Selene wasn’t laughing. If anything, she looked even more intrigued.

“Try harder, huh?” Ludger thought, smirking despite the ache in his arms. “Fine by me.”

Each strike Selene landed pushed Ludger back a little more, and each time the glow of Iron Guard flared around his body. He could feel his stamina draining with every impact, ticking away one precious point at a time.

But the trade-off was worth it.

(Iron Guard +05 XP.)

(Iron Guard Lv.01 → Lv.02)

His chest heaved, his small body aching, but the steady rhythm of notifications made his grin widen. Every point of stamina spent was paying him back in progress.

Selene noticed the faint shimmer grow sharper each time he braced himself. Her brows furrowed. “He’s actually… learning from this. Faster than he should.” She muttered under her breath, but kept pressing him anyway. Better to push him hard now than waste the chance.

The axe-wielder smirked at the sight. “Kid’s tougher than half the recruits I’ve trained.”

The huntress chuckled. “And he doesn’t cry when you hit him. That’s already an improvement.”

Before Ludger could retort, the door creaked open. Elaine stepped out, wiping her hands on her apron. Her green eyes swept across the scene—her son covered in dirt, Selene looming over him, the rest of the party laughing—and for a second she looked ready to scold them all.

But instead, her gaze hardened.

“Tell Arslan…” she said, her voice cool and firm, “that I want to talk to him.”

The laughter among the adventurers quieted instantly.

Ludger straightened up, wiping the sweat from his forehead. His mother’s tone made it clear—whatever had been left unsaid was about to be dragged into the open.

He smirked faintly to himself. “Finally. Time to solve that drama.”

When the party delivered Elaine’s message, Arslan came at once. He didn’t try to enter the house, didn’t even knock—he simply stood at the front like a criminal awaiting judgment. His shoulders slumped, his hands folded in front of him, head bowed low. He looked every bit like a sinner at the church steps, waiting for absolution that might never come.

Elaine took her time.

She stepped outside slowly, her arms crossed, her green eyes narrowing as she looked at him over. For a long, tense moment, she said nothing at all. Just stared at him as though weighing the years of silence against the sudden weight of his presence.

Arslan didn’t move. His jaw tightened, his brown eyes fixed on the ground.

Finally, Elaine tilted her head, her voice cool but steady. “I’ll ask again, Arslan. What is it you want to do?”

Her tone wasn’t curious—it was sharp, as if she were savoring the moment, forcing him to put into words what he hadn’t managed years ago.

Behind the doorframe, Ludger peeked out, watching his mother with a faint smirk. He wasn’t about to interrupt, but in his head he thought, Good. Squeeze him, Mom. Let’s see what the ‘great adventurer’ has to say this time.

Arslan swallowed hard, lifting his gaze just enough to meet her eyes. Whatever he said next would decide whether she allowed him through the door again—or shut him out forever.

Arslan finally lifted his head, his brown eyes heavy with guilt but steadier than before. “I want to stay, Elaine. I want to make things right with you… with him.” His jaw tightened as he spoke, each word seeming heavier than the last. “But I don’t know how to live any way except as an adventurer. It’s all I’ve ever been. I might be gone from home at times… but I swear, I will always come back. I won’t run again.”

Elaine studied him with an unreadable face, her arms folded, her silence dragging long enough to make even Ludger shift impatiently behind the doorframe.

Then her eyes narrowed. “And what about the other women, Arslan?”

A bead of sweat formed at his temple. He gulped, hard, his lips twitching before he forced himself to answer. “I… I won’t look for them. Not anymore. Unless…” His voice faltered. “Unless one of them has a child. Then I’ll… I’ll have to take responsibility for that too.”

Elaine’s expression didn’t change, but a faint sigh left her lips. “We’ll cross that bridge when the time comes.”

For a heartbeat, silence hung heavy between them. Then her lips curved in a humorless smile. “But know this, Arslan. If you cheat again… if you run off chasing another ‘dream,’ I won’t come after you. He will.”

She tilted her head slightly, her green eyes glittering as she glanced toward the door where Ludger listened. “When Ludger becomes the amazing mage I know he will be, he’ll be the one to hunt you down and kick your ass.”

Arslan paled at her words, his mouth twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry.

Behind the door, Ludger grinned ear to ear. “Finally, a goal I can get behind.”

When Arslan finally stepped back from Elaine with her grudging acceptance, his party didn’t waste a second.

Harold clapped him on the back so hard he nearly toppled. “Congratulations, boss. You didn’t get dumped—again.”

The huntress smirked, arms crossed. “Barely. You looked like you were about to faint.”

The mage’s lips twitched. “A miracle in itself, considering your track record.”

Even Selene cracked a rare smile. “Try not to screw it up this time, Arslan. Some of us are tired of babysitting your mistakes.”

Arslan groaned, rubbing his temples, but he didn’t argue. He couldn’t.

Within the week, changes were already in motion. Elaine, true to her word, allowed him back into their lives—on her terms. They moved to a bigger house, one with sturdier walls, an extra room, and enough space for Ludger’s “training yard” out back. Of course, such an upgrade didn’t come free.

Arslan had to take out a hefty loan to secure it. Adventuring paid well, true, but he had burned through most of his savings living like a party king in every town they passed through. Now, with a family to consider, the cracks in his carefree lifestyle were impossible to ignore. His debts weighed heavy, and the man who had once looked invincible with a sword on his hip now looked very human when staring at ledgers and loan papers.

Ludger, though, didn’t spare him much thought. His father could deal with money problems, parties, and whatever other baggage he carried.

Ludger had his own priorities.

Each day, he trained—punches until his arms burned, sprints until his legs felt like lead, casting Create Water and Tinder until his mana emptied and his vision swam. Every bruise, every ache, every moment his stamina ticked down was another step forward. Another layer of proof that he was growing stronger in ways no one else around him could even see.

While his parents struggled to build a new home and Arslan tried to figure out what kind of man he could be outside the tavern halls, Ludger already knew what he wanted: to master the system, and to forge himself into something no debt or failure could ever touch.

During that time, Ludger got used to Arslan’s party members. The ones who he didn’t knew that much were Cor, the mage. Tall and slender, with straight black hair falling neatly to his shoulders, he carried himself with quiet composure. His gray eyes seemed to watch everything, missing nothing, though he rarely spoke unless he had to. Cor’s robes were dark blues and blacks, stitched with faint sigils that shimmered when he worked his craft, and he was almost never without a book in his hands. Where Harold was loud and Selene sharp, Cor was deliberate. His spells were cast with frightening precision, and his words, when spoken, carried the same weight.

Aleia, the huntress, added another flavor to the group. Dressed in green leathers and dark cloth perfect for blending into the woods, she carried her longbow like it was simply another limb. Her blonde hair was tied into a high ponytail, strands falling loose around her sharp face, and her green eyes often glittered with mischief. Though she was slender, her arms had the muscle of someone who had drawn a bowstring thousands of times, and her quiver was always full and orderly. Her dry, cutting wit usually kept Harold’s jokes in check, but she was no less quick to tease, and more often than not her arrows—and her words—hit exactly where she wanted them to.

A couple of days later, the last of the crates and furniture were dragged into place. The new house was larger, sturdier, with a bit of space behind it that Ludger quickly decided would serve nicely for training. It was still modest compared to noble homes, but compared to their cramped old place, it felt like an upgrade.

Arslan stood in the entryway with his hands on his hips, grinning like he had personally built the house brick by brick. “Not bad, eh? A real place to grow into. Debt or no debt, this is ours now.”

Elaine didn’t say much, though the sharp glance she gave him every time he used the word ours was enough to make him scratch his neck nervously. Ludger, meanwhile, had already decided that if anyone deserved credit for this place, it wasn’t Arslan—it was Elaine, who had endured years without it.

Still, Arslan wasn’t about to give up on playing the proud father. He turned to Ludger with a grin, crouching slightly. “Hey, Luds. Want to see your room?”

Ludger stared at him flatly. “Luds?”

“Yeah,” Arslan chuckled. “Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Short, friendly. Father and son kind of thing.”

Ludger didn’t respond, but his silence carried more judgment than words ever could. Inwardly, he thought, Great. Not only did I get saddled with the name Ludger, now he wants to turn it into a tavern nickname.

Still, he followed when Arslan led him down the hall and pushed open the door to a small room. A bed, a chest, a desk—bare bones, but for a child, it was more than enough. Arslan gestured grandly, as if presenting treasure. “There you go. Your very own space. What do you think, Luds?”

Ludger folded his arms and sighed. “It’ll do.”

Arslan blinked, then forced a laugh, pretending the cool response didn’t sting. “Heh, just like his mother. Tough crowd.”

Behind him, Elaine peeked in, her arms crossed, lips twitching with the faintest smirk as she watched Arslan fumble. Ludger could tell—if his father thought earning her forgiveness was hard, earning his approval might take twice as much.