Victor suddenly regained his conciousness. At first there was only the sensation of weight pressing against his body, followed by a dull ache that spread through his limbs as if they did not fully belong to him. His breathing felt shallow, and even the simple act of opening his eyes required deliberate effort.
When his vision finally steadied, he found himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling.
The room was quiet, furnished in a style that suggested wealth without extravagance. Polished wooden beams crossed above him, and a faint scent of medicinal herbs lingered in the air. He remained still for several moments, allowing his thoughts to gather.
"I should have been dead. That damn truck was huge. There is no way someone like me should have survived by that crash."
Then certain memories came which was not his own.
They did not arrive gently. They forced themselves into his mind with a steady, overwhelming pressure. Images, names, places, and experiences intertwined with his own awareness until the boundary between them became indistinct.
Victor Walker.
Fifteen years old.
Member of the Walker family.
A prominent lineage within Black Wind City.
Victor closed his eyes again, not in exhaustion, but in acknowledgment. He understood what had happened. This was not a dream, nor was it a hallucination. He had been transported into another body, into another life entirely.
Transmigration.
"So the truck was the angel of isekai. I shouldn't have cursed it. Sorry truck kun."
He exhaled slowly and began organizing the inherited knowledge.
The world he now inhabited was not ordinary. Hundreds of years ago, it had undergone a transformation when a system integrated itself into reality. Since that moment, everything had changed. Dungeons had begun to appear across the land, releasing monsters that brought devastation to cities and settlements. Humanity had nearly been driven to extinction during those early years.
Adaptation had been the only path to survival.
At the age of fifteen, every individual would undergo an awakening. Through that process, they would gain access to a status panel, a structured interface that revealed their affinity, their class, and their inherent potential. It was through this system that humans had gained the strength necessary to resist the endless tide of monsters.
Victor absorbed the information with quiet focus.
Today was the day of awakening.
He shifted slightly, intending to sit up, but the moment he did so, a sharp wave of weakness spread through his body. His muscles trembled under even that minimal strain. The difference between intention and capability was immediate and undeniable.
This body was frail.
The memories confirmed it. Since birth, the original Victor had been physically weak. While others trained, competed, and strengthened themselves, he had remained confined to his room for most of his life. Books had been his only consistent companions. His mother also died giving birth to him.
As a result, he had become isolated.
Victor pushed himself into a seated position despite the resistance from his own body. His breathing grew heavier, but he did not stop. He needed to understand his current condition with precision.
A knock sounded at the door.
Before he could respond, it opened.
A middle aged man entered, his expression stern yet controlled. His presence carried authority, and the resemblance between them was unmistakable.
Victor recognized him immediately.
His father.
"Get ready," the man said, his tone direct and without embellishment. "The awakening ceremony is about to begin. Do not be late."
There was no warmth in his voice, but there was no hostility either. It was the tone of obligation rather than affection.
Victor inclined his head slightly. "I understand."
The man studied him for a brief moment, as if assessing whether he would comply, then turned and left without another word.
The room fell silent again.
Victor swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. The simple act required effort. His balance wavered for an instant before stabilizing. Each movement felt inefficient, as though his body lacked coordination and strength.
He walked toward the door.
By the time he stepped into the corridor, a faint sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead.
The distance to the awakening hall was not far, yet to him, it felt significant. Servants and family members moved through the estate with purpose, many of them casting brief glances in his direction before quickly looking away.
The reactions were consistent with the memories he had inherited.
Avoidance.
Discomfort.
Indifference.
Victor did not respond to any of it. He continued forward at a measured pace, conserving what little energy he had.
Black Wind City was known for its strength, and the Walker family stood among its most influential powers. Their estate alone housed hundreds of members, including both direct descendants and affiliated disciples. The awakening ceremony was not merely a personal milestone. It was a public evaluation of the clan's future.
By the time Victor reached the hall, it was already filled.
Voices echoed throughout the large chamber, layered with anticipation and speculation. Elders occupied the central area near the stage, while other members gathered along the sides and upper platforms.
Victor stepped inside.
Six individuals stood near the front, all of them around his age. His cousins.
He moved to stand beside them.
The reactions were immediate.
One of them shifted slightly away from him. Another glanced at him with clear distaste before turning his attention elsewhere. The rest did not bother to hide their indifference.
Victor understood the reason without needing to think.
The original Victor had been viewed as a burden. His weakness had set him apart from the expectations of the family. While others trained and improved, he had remained stagnant.
In a place where strength determined value, such a condition was not easily tolerated.
Victor remained where he was.
He did not attempt to engage them, nor did he react to their behavior. Their opinions held no relevance to him at this moment.
What mattered was the awakening.
He observed the surroundings instead. The stage stood at the center, where a large crystal had been placed upon a pedestal. Its surface reflected light in subtle patterns, hinting at the power contained within it.
That crystal would determine everything.
Victor adjusted his stance slightly, ignoring the faint strain in his legs.
Even this short walk had left him fatigued. His breathing was controlled, but the underlying weakness remained evident.
The head elder raised his hand, and the hall fell silent.
"Today we awaken the next generation of the Walker family. Each of you will place your hand upon the crystal. You will receive your status panel. You will receive your grimoire or skill book, or you will receive nothing. Your fate begins now."
The elder's voice carried across the hall with measured authority as he concluded the formal introduction. The gathering of the Walker clan stood in quiet anticipation, their attention fixed on the elevated platform where destinies would be revealed.
"Let us begin. First, Jake Walker."
A young man stepped forward without hesitation. His posture was upright, and his expression carried a quiet confidence that drew approving glances from the elders. Jake had long been regarded as one of the most promising youths in the clan, having already demonstrated exceptional discipline through his mastery of several non elemental martial techniques. Those efforts had refined both his physique and his mental resilience.
He placed his hand firmly upon the crystal.
For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then a brilliant flare of light burst forth, illuminating the hall with a fiery brilliance.
Words formed within the crystal, clear and undeniable.
[Affinity: Fire
Class: Warrior
Potential: 7]
A red colored skillbook materialised behind him.
Jake's lips parted into a wide smile as he looked upon the result. The reaction from the crowd was immediate and overwhelming. Applause erupted from every corner of the hall, accompanied by cheers filled with admiration and pride.