"Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks burning. He wasn't used to this kind of personal attention.
The last time a girl wiped his face, it was his mom after he'd eaten ice cream like a toddler on a sugar rampage.
One of the maids knelt beside him. "Would you like some fruit water, Sir Hero?"
Noah glanced at the cup, which shimmered like it had been made by a unicorn's tear duct.
"…Does it explode?"
She giggled. "No, Sir. It's infused with magic for energy and clarity."
He took a sip. "Tastes like cucumbers went on a spa retreat with grapes."
Garrick stood and stretched, cracking his neck with a sound like a tree splitting in half.
"Alright. Enough resting. Time to get up."
"I was emotionally recovering," Noah groaned, half-hoping the maids would shield him.
They did not.
"Battle doesn't wait for your emotions," Garrick said, hoisting his sword.
Noah groaned again, dragged himself to his feet, and staggered toward the center of the training ground.
He raised his own wooden sword in what he hoped was a stance and not just a nervous twitch.
"Ready."
"Good," Garrick said, then lunged without warning, "But I have a question... do you have your skill panel?"
"Skill Panel?" Noah asked, eyes squinting with hope.
Sir Garrick blinked once.
Then twice. Then slowly shook his head, like he was watching someone try to start a fire with a wet sock.
Noah felt a bead of sweat slide dramatically down the side of his face. "No? Not Skill Panel?"
Still no response from Garrick.
Just that same patient but slightly exasperated look, the one teachers gave kids who asked if pizza was a vegetable.
"Uhh… Stat Window? Character Sheet? Main Menu?"
Another silent headshake.
"Inventory screen?"
Nope.
Noah exhaled hard, nearly wheezing. "Okay, what kind of bootleg system am I dealing with here?!"
Garrick finally sighed, as if this scene had played out one too many times before. "Just say 'Status,' Hero."
Noah froze. The word hit him like a lightning bolt of realization.
He… forgot.
He forgot the most basic thing every transmigrated, reincarnated, otherworldly-shuffled anime protagonist remembered.
The one universal law of isekai life:
[You always say "Status" first.]
Noah clenched his jaw and muttered, "I'm an idiot."
Then louder, "Status."
DING!
A translucent screen shimmered into view before his eyes like a futuristic fantasy HUD.
Glowing blue text and menus floated gently in the air, all customizable, probably, if he cared enough.
He did not.
But there it was — his Status Screen.
...
[Noah Lancaster – Hero Candidate of Solmaria]
[Level: 1]
[Race: Human]
[Class: [Unawakened]]
[Title: Summoned Hero]
[HP: 100/100]
[MP: 20/20]
[STR: 3]
[DEX: 4]
[INT: 9]
[VIT: 5]
[LUCK: 1]
[Charm: 7.3 (System seems confused)]
[Current Buffs: Mild Muscle Trauma (-1 DEX), Residual Dignity Damage]
...
Below the main stats were other tabs: System Shop, Inventory, Skill Tree.
"Man… These stats are garbage," Noah muttered. "Why is my LUCK literally one?! I'm the chosen hero, not a lottery ticket from hell!"
"I was going to explain — " Garrick began, but Noah waved him off like he was dismissing a street magician.
"I know how this works, old man. I watched like 48 hours of anime in college. Let me guess — stats increase when I fight, train, or touch a glowing sword stuck in a stone, right?"
"…More or less."
"Exactly. Let's just skip to Skills before I start crying over my INT being the only thing above a five."
He tapped on the Skill Tree tab, and the screen shifted.
A branching tree of hexagonal icons unfolded, most of them grayed out. He zoomed in on the only one that was lit up.
...
[Growth] – Passive Skill
[Description: Your potential blooms slowly over time. Experience gains are slightly enhanced. Soul adaptation increases with each failure.]
[Current Effect: +10% EXP gain. Small stat increases during failure-based learning.]
[Note: Growth is painful. Sucks to suck.]
...
Noah tilted his head at the last line.
"...Was that note really necessary?"
The screen didn't respond.
"Y'know what? Fine. At least I have a skill. It's better than nothing. Just gotta 'fail' more often, huh? Awesome. So every time I get dunked like a medieval basketball, I grow stronger? Great. I'm basically a punching bag that levels up."
"You're taking this better than most," Garrick said.
Noah shot him a look. "My pride's been gone since the first time your wooden sword turned my spine into an airhorn. I'm not even a man anymore. I'm a series of bruises pretending to walk upright."
"Good," Garrick said with a smile that was way too proud for Noah's liking. "You're starting to understand the warrior's path."
"I'm starting to understand back pain. That's what I'm understanding."
He closed the screen and shook his arms out, wincing as the soreness settled in like it had bought a summer home in his biceps.
"Anyway, thanks for the traumatizing life lesson. I'll go 'grow' some more tomorrow. For now, I'm going back to my house to sob into a cup of elf milk."
"It's unicorn milk, actually."
"Don't correct me. That makes it worse."
Garrick chuckled again and made a motion with his hand, Noah didn't know what it meant but he didn't care either.
Noah took a deep breath, stared at the sky, and muttered, "Status" one more time just to flex the fact that he finally remembered it.
The screen obediently popped back up.