Classless King: I Absorb Anything I Kill

Chapter 2

Aleric's new world came in fragments.

The first thing he understood: he was a baby. Completely, utterly helpless. He couldn't control his limbs.

Could barely open his eyes for more than a few seconds before exhaustion dragged him back to sleep.

It was torture.

But mind was intact. He remembered everything. Westmont High, Handprint, the fall and But he was trapped in an infant's body that wouldn't obey him.

It was like the incarnation story he had read. Who would have thought it would have happened to him.

Coincidentally, the baby, him, had the same name he had in his past life. 

Aleric, the name that stung to him like a curse.

Days passed, maybe weeks, he could barely keep counts. 

He was treated like a child… which that was exactly what he was. 

Slowly, his control improved. He could keep his eyes open longer. Track movement. Focus on the people around him.

His new mother was beautiful. Long dark hair. Kind eyes. She wore flowing robes that shimmered with an inner light. No, not shimmered. Glowed. Actually glowed with faint blue light along the hems.

"Look at him, Enzo," she cooed, holding Aleric up. "He's so alert. So focused. I think he has your eyes."

The man; Enzo, apparently Aleric's new father; stepped closer.

 He was huge. Built like a professional fighter. Scars crossed his face and exposed forearms. His hands were calloused, weathered. But when he reached out to touch Aleric's tiny hand, his movement was gentle.

"He's strong," Enzo said. His voice was deep, rough. "Good grip. That's good."

"Do you think...?" His mother hesitated. "Do you think he inherited the bloodline?"

Enzo's expression darkened. "Too early to tell. We won't know until his awakening. But even if he didn't, he's our son. That's enough."

"Of course." But Aleric heard the worry in her voice.

They left him in an ornate crib. The room was large. Stone walls covered with tapestries showing battles between armored figures and massive creatures. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, but instead of candles, glowing crystals provided light.

No electricity. No modern technology at all.

Aleric's infant heart beat faster.

"Where am I?" he thought. "What is this place?"

As if responding to his question, text appeared in his vision.

Blue, semi-transparent letters that floated in the air. Or no, not in the air. In his mind. Only he could see them.

[WELCOME TO JUSAVIA - WORLD OF MANA]

[YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED A SECOND CHANCE]

[HOST INFORMATION:]

[NAME: ALERIC SWORE]

**[PREVIOUS IDENTITY: MARCUS CHEN (EARTH - DIMENSION 7743)]

[AGE: 0 YEARS, 3 DAYS]

[STATUS: UNAWAKENED]

[NOTE: AWAKENING CEREMONY AVAILABLE AT AGE 15]

Aleric stared at the words. His infant mind struggled to process.

"Reincarnation," he thought. "This is real. I actually died and came back. In a different world."

The text changed.

[CORRECT]

[YOUR DEATH ON EARTH CREATED A SOUL FRACTURE]

[THE FRACTURE ALLOWED DIMENSIONAL TRANSFER]

[YOU WERE SELECTED FOR REINCARNATION BASED ON KARMIC EVALUATION]

"Selected? Why me?"

[YOU DIED PROTECTING YOUR RESOLVE]

[YOU REFUSED TO SURRENDER YOUR DIGNITY]

[YOU CHOSE MUTUAL DESTRUCTION OVER CONTINUED HUMILIATION]

[SUCH WILLPOWER IS RARE]

[IT HAS VALUE]

Aleric felt something stir in his chest. Not quite pride. More like... vindication.

"What's the catch?" Even as an infant, Aleric was cynical. "Nothing's free."

[OBSERVANT]

[CATCH: THIS WORLD OPERATES ON POWER HIERARCHY]

[STRENGTH DETERMINES SURVIVAL]

[YOU START WITH NOTHING]

[YOUR BODY IS UNTESTED]

[YOUR POTENTIAL IS UNKNOWN]

[YOU MAY BE WEAK]

[YOU MAY BE STRONG]

[THAT IS FOR YOU TO DISCOVER]

"I don't care if I start weak," Aleric thought fiercely. "I'll become strong. I swore that before I died and I meant it."

[GOOD]

[SYSTEM ACCESS WILL EXPAND AT AGE 15]

[UNTIL THEN: GROW! LEARN! SURVIVE.]

The text faded.

Aleric lay in his crib, staring at the glowing crystals overhead. His tiny hands clenched into fists.

"Fifteen years," he thought. "I have fifteen years to prepare. To learn about this world and to train this body. Then, when I awaken..."

He didn't finish the thought. Didn't need to.

He knew what he'd do.

He'd climb, higher and higher, until no one could ever look down on him again.

---

The years crawled by.

At age two, Aleric could walk and talk. His mother, Lady Helena, was delighted. "Such a bright boy! Already speaking in full sentences!"

She didn't know he had the mind of a teenager. That every childish word was carefully chosen to appear normal.

At age three, he started observing everything. The servants who cleaned the estate. The guards who patrolled. The tutors who came to teach him letters and numbers.

He learned the basics quickly:

This world was called Jusavia. A medieval fantasy world where magic was real. Not fairy tale magic. Structured, systematic magic based on something called "mana."

Every living thing had mana. The air, the earth, even the stones. But humans could only access their mana after "awakening." A ceremony that happened at age fifteen.

During awakening, three things were determined:

First, your Class: A rating from 1st Class to 10th Class that determined your base potential. Most people awakened between 1st and 3rd Class. Nobles often hit 4th or 5th. True prodigies reached 6th or 7th. Anything above that was legendary.

Second, your Affinity: Fire, water, earth, air, light, darkness, or rare variants. Your affinity determined what kind of magic came naturally.

Third, your Status: A personal interface only you could see, showing your strength, abilities, and growth.

At age five, Aleric started physical training.

His father noticed him trying to do push-ups in his room.

"Boy," Enzo said, walking in without knocking. "What are you doing?"

Aleric, face red from exertion, managed three shaky push-ups before collapsing. "Training."

"You're five."

"So?"

Enzo stared at him. Then, surprisingly, he smiled. "Alright. If you want to train, I'll teach you properly. But you follow my rules. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

That's how Aleric's real education began.

Every morning before dawn, Enzo dragged him to the training yard. They started with basics. Running. Stretching. Bodyweight exercises.

"Your body is your foundation," Enzo lectured. "Even the strongest mage dies if their body is too weak to channel power. Even the most talented warrior fails if they can't endure."

Aleric absorbed every lesson.

At age seven, he started weapons training. Wooden sword. Basic forms. Enzo was a harsh teacher. He didn't praise. Didn't coddle. When Aleric made mistakes, Enzo would whack him with the flat of his own training sword.

"Again."

"But I—"

"Again."

Aleric learned not to complain.

At age ten, his body started showing the problem.

He trained as hard as any adult. Pushed himself past exhaustion daily. But his growth was... wrong.

Other noble children his age were already showing signs of mana development. Their bodies became stronger naturally. They could lift weights that should be impossible. Run faster than normal.

Aleric remained weak.

Not normal weak. Abnormally weak. Like his body refused to develop properly.

"His mana channels are underdeveloped," the family doctor said after an examination. "See these?" He pointed to a glowing diagram showing energy pathways in the body. "In a healthy child, these channels are wide and clear. In young master Aleric, they're narrow. Constricted."

"Can it be fixed?" Helena asked desperately.

"Perhaps after awakening. Sometimes the awakening process forces the channels open. But..." The doctor hesitated. "I must be honest, my lady. I've seen this condition before. Children like this rarely awaken past 2nd Class. Often they awaken as 1st Class. Which means..."

He didn't finish. Didn't need to.

1st Class was the classification for servants. Laborers. The lowest rung of society.

After the doctor left, Aleric sat alone in his room.

"So my body is defective," he thought. "Even in this new life, I'm weak."

For a moment, despair threatened to swallow him.

Then he remembered. Drake and his vows.

"No," he whispered. "I didn't give up then. I won't give up now. If my body is weak, I'll train harder. If my mana channels are blocked, I'll force them open. Whatever it takes."

He stood up. Did a hundred push-ups. Then a hundred sit-ups. Then a hundred squats.

His body screamed. His muscles burned.

He kept going.

---

At age fourteen, reality set in.

Aleric attended his first noble gathering. His mother insisted. "You need to socialize with other children your age. Make connections before the awakening ceremony."

The gathering was held at Baron Thorne's estate. A massive mansion with manicured gardens and a ballroom the size of a warehouse.

Dozens of noble children gathered. All between thirteen and fifteen. All preparing for their awakenings.

Aleric watched them show off.

"Check this out!" One boy, the son of Count Marlowe, held out his hand. Fire erupted from his palm. Not a lot. Just a fist-sized flame. But it was real magic.

"That's nothing," a girl in an expensive dress said. She gestured and water formed in the air, shaping into a sphere. "My tutor says I'll definitely awaken as 4th Class or higher."

Aleric stood to the side. Silent. Observing.

"Hey," a voice called. "You're Aleric Swore, right?"

Aleric turned. A boy his age approached. Tall, broad-shouldered, with perfectly styled blond hair. Everything about him screamed privilege. From his silk doublet to his confident stride.

"I'm Roderick Thorne," the boy said. "This is my family's estate."

"Nice place," Aleric replied neutrally.

"Your father is Lord Enzo, the retired war hero." Roderick's tone made it clear what he thought of that. "I heard he earned his title through military service. How... quaint."

The insult was subtle. Polite. But definitely there.

Other children gathered. Sensing drama.

"I also heard," Roderick continued, louder now, "that you've been training since you were five. Ten years of effort. Impressive dedication."

"Thank you."

"So let's see it." Roderick gestured to the center of the ballroom. "Show us what ten years of training looks like. Everyone here has demonstrated their pre-awakening abilities. Your turn."

It was a trap. Aleric knew it instantly.

These children came from families that hired the best tutors. Families that had techniques to stimulate mana development before awakening. Families with bloodline advantages.

The Swore family had none of that. Just a father who taught military sword forms and a mother who sang lullabies.

"I prefer not to," Aleric said calmly.

"Oh?" Roderick's smile widened. "Why not? Unless... you can't?"

The crowd pressed closer. Eager. Hungry for entertainment.

"Everyone here can manipulate mana to some degree," Roderick pressed. "It's basic noble education. Even the weakest among us can produce a spark or move a pebble. So show us. Prove the famous war hero's son isn't completely useless."

Aleric's hands clenched.

He could walk away. Should walk away.

But something in Roderick's mocking smile. In the eager anticipation of the crowd. It reminded him of Westmont High. Of Drake. Of being cornered and laughed at.

"Fine," Aleric said.

He stepped into the open space. Raised his hand. Tried to channel mana like he'd read in dozens of training manuals.

Feel the energy in your core. Draw it up through your channels. Release it through your hand.

He felt... something. A tiny trickle. Like trying to drink through a straw with a hole in it.

His palm grew warm. A tiny spark appeared. About the size of a match flame. It flickered once.

Then died.

Silence.

Then, someone laughed.

"That's it?" A girl's voice, dripping with contempt. "That's ten years of training?"

More laughter. It spread through the crowd like wildfire.

Roderick looked delighted. "I'm sorry, Aleric. I didn't realize you were that weak. That's... honestly, that's worse than I thought. My five-year-old cousin can produce a stronger flame."

"Maybe his mana channels are blocked," someone suggested. "That's a genetic defect, right?"

"Poor thing. Imagine training so hard and being that pathetic."

"His father must be so disappointed."

The words crashed over Aleric like waves. Each one digging into old wounds. Each one reminding him of everything he'd tried to escape.

But he didn't run. Didn't cry. Didn't react at all.

He simply looked at Roderick. Stared into his smug, satisfied eyes.

"We'll see," Aleric said quietly. "In one year, after the awakening ceremony. We'll see who's pathetic."

The temperature in his voice made several people step back.

Roderick's smile faltered. "What—"

"Enjoy this moment," Aleric continued. "Savor it. Because it's the last time you'll ever look down on me."

He turned and walked out. Ignored the laughter that followed.

In the carriage home, his mother tried to comfort him. "Sweetheart, those children are cruel. Don't listen to them."

Aleric stared out the window.

"One year," he thought. "One more year. Then everything changes."