The Goldheart estate's grand dining hall had it's windows easily penetrate by sunlight, painting golden streaks across the long mahogany table.

The air smelled faintly of roasted bread, fruit preserves, and fresh tea — the kind of quiet, domestic peace that rarely lasted long in this household.

At the head of the table sat Lord Cedric Goldheart, posture straight even in relaxation, his calm authority filling the room as naturally as the morning light.

Beside him, Lady Elise sipped tea with gentle grace, her gaze turning toward the entrance as the sound of quick footsteps approached.

The double doors swung open.

Two figures appeared — Kent, neat and composed as always, and Raiden, practically glowing with energy.

Cedric's brow lifted slightly in surprise as his younger son bounded forward.

"You seem unusually energetic this morning, Raiden."

Raiden grinned as he took his seat. "Good morning, Father."

Kent joined him as they greeted their parents.

"Good morning, Mother."

Kent stopped there but Raiden went ahead to continue. "I slept well. A clear mind needs a good breakfast, right?"

Lady Elise raised an elegant brow. "A clear mind? And here I was worried you'd decided to skip meals again."

Kent tried — and failed — to suppress a smile. He quietly adjusted his napkin and muttered, "This is new."

Raiden ignored him, busy buttering his bread with far too much enthusiasm.

Even the servants exchanging glances by the wall seemed slightly thrown off. The youngest Goldheart was many things — clever, mischievous, occasionally explosive — but morning person was not one of them.

Cedric's lips curved faintly. "Well, I'm glad to see your energy has returned. Perhaps the city trip did you good after all."

Raiden just nodded, cheeks full of food. He'd rather not talk about the city trip to anyone that wasn't Miss Hilda. Especially not Kent.

As breakfast continued, the conversation turned toward the day ahead. Cedric set down his cup, his keen eyes shifting between his sons.

"So then," he began, tone even but curious, "what do you two plan to do today?"

Kent, ever the diligent one, answered promptly. "I plan to continue my training with Captain Baren, Father. He showed me more advanced sparring drills yesterday and I think I'd like to learn more."

Cedric gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Discipline sharpens both mind and blade."

Then his gaze turned toward Raiden — who had, suspiciously, stopped eating mid-bite.

"And you, Raiden?"

There was a small pause — just long enough for Kent to glance sideways at his brother, sensing impending mischief.

Then Raiden smiled sweetly. "I'll be training my mind today."

The silence that followed was immediate.

Kent nearly choked on his drink.

Elise blinked, clearly unsure whether she'd heard right.

Cedric's brows rose just slightly — amusement flickering behind his composed expression.

"Training your mind?" Cedric repeated slowly.

Raiden nodded with exaggerated seriousness. "Yes. I plan to… expand my intellectual horizons. Reflection, reading, maybe a bit of meditation."

Kent coughed into his napkin, muttering, "You mean napping in the library."

Elise bit back a smile. "That's... commendable, dear. Just don't experiment with the ink again."

Raiden waved a hand. "Of course not! What do you take me for? I'm changed!"

The collective disbelief at the table was almost tangible.

Cedric hid his smirk behind his teacup. "Very well. Read something worthwhile. Perhaps something on discipline."

Raiden grinned. "Naturally, Father."

Later that morning, the estate's grand library basked in golden light. Dust motes drifted lazily through the air as silence hung between the endless shelves of old tomes.

Raiden slipped through the tall oak doors, closing them quietly behind him.

For most of the family, the library was a place of study and reflection.

For Raiden, it was perfect cover.

He found a secluded corner near the far wall — a cushioned chair surrounded by shelves that towered like ancient sentinels. A book lay open in his lap, though his eyes weren't moving across the pages.

Instead, he exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and letting his mana stir within him.

I'll just start slow… he thought. Refine the flow, strengthen the heart.

But before he could begin his quiet meditation, a familiar blue shimmer flickered before his eyes.

[Mission: Sharpen the Blade]

[Status: Active]

[Reward Generated.]

Raiden sat up straight. The glowing text shifted again:

[Reward:

– Purchase up to 3 C-Class Skills for 30% of their original cost.

– Bonus: 20–40 Skill Points based on performance.]

His eyes widened. "Three C-Class skills? For only a third of the price?"

His grin returned instantly. "Now that's more like it!"

He leaned forward eagerly, resting his elbows on his knees.

C-class… that's real magic, he thought, excitement thrumming in his chest. Not the basic tricks. Real, battle-worthy skills like the Mana Cloak Skill he possessed — things that change fights.

He could almost see it now — the look on Kent's face when he pulled off something spectacular.

"I should start right now," he muttered, the decision instant.

Then his eyes flicked to the corner of his vision — and he froze.

A small icon pulsed softly there, something he hadn't checked since the city.

Wait… I still haven't claimed that other reward.

Raiden snapped his fingers, summoning the previous mission window.

[Mission: Beyond the Estate — Reward Ready to Reveal.]

[Opening Reward Contents…]

He leaned forward, anticipation buzzing in his chest.

[Congratulations! You've unlocked: Skill Draw Feature]

Raiden blinked. "Skill… draw?"

A new screen unfurled, words scrolling in neat golden text.

[Skill Draw — Feature Unlocked.]

[Once per week, you may perform a Draw to obtain a random skill.]

[– Skill rarity ranges from D-Class upward.]

[– Additional draws may be earned through completed missions or special achievements.]

For a moment, he could only stare. Then his mouth slowly curved into the kind of grin that had gotten him in trouble a hundred times before.

"A weekly spin?" he whispered. "Random skills? Oh, this is perfect…"

He leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head.

The possibilities raced through his mind — rare elemental arts, advanced spells, maybe even unique passive skills. It was a lottery of power, and he had a ticket.

He couldn't help but laugh softly to himself, the sound echoing faintly through the quiet library. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

Then the system flashed again — one more line of text appearing at the bottom.

[Skill Draw Feature Unlocked.]

[Next Available Draw: After First Sword Training Session.]

Raiden froze mid-laugh.

"…Of course it's tied to training," he groaned, slumping back in his chair. "Figures. Nothing's ever free with you, is it?"

The system, naturally, offered no response.

He rubbed his temples and sighed dramatically. "Sword training first, then. Guess Sir Leonard gets to 'sharpen my blade' after all."

But even as he complained, the corner of his mouth lifted. Beneath the theatrics, excitement simmered — an eagerness he hadn't felt since discovering his first skill.

"Alright then," he murmured, eyes glinting. "Let's see what today brings."

As Raiden leaned back, the library light shifted — a passing cloud dimming the sun's warmth, shadows sliding over the rows of ancient books. Outside, faint sounds of clashing steel drifted in through the open windows.

Kent and their father were already training in the courtyard.

Each rhythmic clang of their blades seemed to pulse through the air, a heartbeat of discipline and strength.

Raiden listened for a while, tapping a finger against his chair arm.

"Alright, Sir Leonard," he said quietly, a sly smile forming again. "Let's see if I can survive you and whatever this system throws next."

He stood, stretching with a lazy yawn before glancing once more at the hovering blue text.

[Mission Active: Sharpen the Blade.]

[Preparation Phase: In Progress.]

The words pulsed faintly, almost alive.

Raiden's grin widened. "Three hours, then."

He extinguished the candle beside him, the soft scent of wax mingling with the scent of dust and parchment.

The library fell silent again — save for the distant rhythm of swords clashing under the morning sun. "Kent is really going at it."

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