Power of Runes Chapter 2 2: Ambition

<Status>

Name- Ash Burn

Race- Human

Age- 12

Unique Class- Magic Swordsman--(Partially Awakened)

Affinity- Lightning

<Attributes>

Strength- 3

Agility- 4

Vitality- 2

Intelligence- 7

Stamina- 5

Charm- 3

Mana- 2

<Trait & Skills>

Trait- ????

Skills- None

***

Ash gazed at his Status window.

He blinked once and then again, yet the display remained unchanged—it was genuine, despite appearing utterly unbelievable.

For an instant, he suspected it might be an illusion or deception, but once he verified its authenticity,

"What the heck!!!"

A swear escaped his lips.

Did my Unique Class from the game transfer over with me too??

His gaze swept over the panel once more, as if a fresh look could somehow lessen the ridiculousness staring back at him.

And if that's not the case, then why the hell.....no one with a unique class ever got brought up in the novel.

Based on his knowledge, the name Ash never appeared in the story he had read.

He wasn't even a background character in the Novel.

After all, possessing a Unique Class would have made him renowned, since such classes are as scarce as precious stones in a dungeon-ridden realm.

That pointed to just one possibility.

Either he perished prior to the tale's beginning, or this form was manifested purely for his soul's arrival.

A cold realization raced through him, causing chills to ripple across his back.

Choosing to avoid lingering on unanswerable queries, he shoved the ideas away.

In the end, dwelling on potential disasters only invited them closer.

**

During character creation in the game, players selected classes such as mage, assassin, or warrior.

However, Unique Classes existed too—exclusive ones held by just a single player across the whole game.

Ash possessed one of those rare designations: Magic Swordsman.

This role let him unleash spells effortlessly amid sword strikes, blending tactics with an irresistibly stylish flair.

It proved crucial for his triumph, allowing a razor-thin conquest over the ultimate foe.

"It doesn't matter if it followed me or... whatever else, but I'm relieved it's familiar territory."

Now, as he examined his Status interface, the title Magic Swordsman appeared, accompanied by the annotation: Partially Awakened.

Confusion creased his brow.

"What does that even signify?"

The notion disturbed him, so after pondering briefly, he lowered himself to the bedroom floor, shut his eyes, and concentrated on detecting his core.

From his recollections of this realm, all awakened beings harbored one core.

Those focused on physical combat located theirs in the lower abdomen, known as the lower dantian, whereas magic specialists placed it in the upper abdomen, the upper dantian.

Yet, being a Magic Swordsman set him apart. In theory, he ought to possess dual cores—one for magical prowess and another for bodily strength.

Directing his thoughts inward, he sought to feel the power coursing through him.

His initial effort yielded nothing.

He attempted once more, only to fail anew.

Fuck!!

Ash grumbled quietly. Grasping the subtle energies inside one's frame challenged someone accustomed to modern logic.

Nevertheless, he kept at it, and after what seemed endless, success came.

In his lower abdomen sat a tiny, darkened core tainted with impurities—his Lower Dantian.

"Damn, I truly am awakened," he whispered, a wave of ease flooding through him.

He had worried his meager figures indicated incomplete awakening, yet this finding disproved that fear.

"But honestly… these stats."

His grin vanished while he scrutinized the values.

Even typical unawakened folks here registered at least 10 across most categories. Freshly awakened averages started above 20, with prodigies surpassing 30.

His top score? A mere 7 in Intelligence.

"I realize this frame is frail and underfed, but this is downright humiliating."

Annoyance tinged his words.

"Without fixing this physique and boosting my stats, I'll never get into the acad—"

All at once, a terrifying idea pierced his mind.

"Fuck, I'm truly going to die," Ash swore.

Everything clicked into place now.

The absence of this body's prior inhabitant in the novel had a clear cause.

The original Ash likely succumbed before the plot unfolded.

And suddenly, harsh reality slammed into him.

His form contained solely one core in the lower dantian, geared toward enhancing physical traits. Yet, that core supplied zero mana throughout his being.

Why?

Straightforward.

The awakening ritual remained unfinished.

Ash lingered in partial awakening.

Upon first entering this vessel, he chalked up the crushing exhaustion to the transmigration's toll.

But upon logical reflection, the true culprit emerged.

This body had ceased functioning for some time before his essence entered.

In this domain, dual cores couldn't dwell within one individual.

The first Ash probably perished amid the awakening, his frame buckling under the burden of forging two cores—a drawback of the Magic Swordsman class.

And immediately following that demise, my soul transferred in.

Somehow, the process halted midway.

The sole rationale?

"It must be my Trait," Ash said softly.

Not belonging to the prior occupant, but his personal one.

Traits bound tightly to the soul, rare possessions among people.

Glancing back at the Status, he scowled at the entry:

{Trait: ?????}

His trait stayed concealed, marked only by interrogations.

"The fact I possess a trait ties to my desire… but, curse my awful fortune."

He raked fingers through his locks in irritation.

"First, soul-shifted to a world of doom, and now uncertain when I'll keel over."

The unknown clawed at his resolve.

He lacked knowledge of his Trait or the timeline before awakening recommenced.

Moreover, the novel featured zero figures with dual cores.

Absolutely none.

Yet Ash refused to wallow in hopelessness, awaiting inevitable end.

This represented his fresh opportunity.

He vowed not to squander it by echoing past errors.

That night, Ash gathered available provisions.

A modest sack of rations, his scant gold—merely 10 coins from the Association's monthly stipend. It amounted to little, akin to 1,000 dollars from before.

[1 Gold = 100 dollars]

He proceeded to the train depot and departed the urban sprawl.

His goal:

Starfall City.

***

Certain tactics remained exclusive to avid novel enthusiasts like him.

One involved claiming concealed treasures, or runes as they were called.

In the tale, the lead, Ray, gathered multiple runes along his path, each fueling his advancement.

Among them lay the Rune of Stability.

This Rune of Stability held no overwhelming might, far from it.

Truthfully, Ray's system would have preserved him regardless.

The Rune merely sustained equilibrium within his form, countering the chaos that clashing elemental affinities might unleash.

However, the Rune of Stability preserved his bodily harmony and soothed conflicting forces inside.

Ash remained unsure if the rune could balance his twin cores, yet with no alternatives, he had to attempt it.

It constituted a desperate wager—for survival itself.

His lifespan drained away steadily.

He arrived in Starfall City after two days, leaving two weeks and five days until the entrance trials.

Upon arriving in Starfall City, Ash acted swiftly.

Each moment slipping by eroded his remaining vitality like grains in a timer.

Finding the Rune became imperative.

Guided by the book's details, he exited the depot and ventured to the forsaken Mana Stone mine beyond the city's edge.

The novel referenced the Mana Stone mine—a network of passages left vacant years back once resources dwindled.

Ray discovered the Rune of Stability in his academy's first-year break.

His system issued a task to explore the depths.

Since...the system sensed unbound runes near Ray.

However,

The tunnels weren't completely empty.

Lurking far inside, beasts prowled the derelict site. While their power posed no grave threat to Ray in the story,

For Ash in his present condition, even the frailest beast could end him.

At the mine's threshold, Ash peered into the shadowy void stretching before him.

A soft wind's howl resounded through the empty corridors, resembling a spectral caution.

"I can do it... I can do it... Better to perish in the attempt than await death idly." he whispered, clutching the basic sword acquired from a market stall en route to the site.

It offered scant advantage—a plain iron edge lacking sharpness—but it surpassed bare hands.

Drawing a steadying breath, he advanced into the depths.

***