Jelo had just fought a couple of people.

Not one.

Not two in a simple sense.

But enough.

Enough to feel the difference.

Enough to understand something had changed—not just in his strength, but in how he approached everything.

His primary aim had been clear from the beginning.

Essence.

That was all he wanted.

Enough essence to trigger a system update. Enough to push himself forward, to force growth, to break past the wall he had been stuck behind.

And he got it.

But that wasn’t all he gained.

Somewhere in between the clashes, the exchanges, the moments where he had to react instead of think—he had picked up something else.

Experience.

Real experience.

Not the kind you get from training drills.

Not the kind that comes from controlled sparring.

But the kind that comes from fighting people stronger than you.

People faster than you.

People who don’t hold back.

He had seen it clearly.

The way stronger fighters moved.

Not just physically—but mentally.

They didn’t hesitate.

They didn’t waste motion.

Every step had purpose.

Every attack carried intent beyond just power.

Even their pauses meant something.

He had noticed how they thought mid-fight—how quickly they adapted, how they read openings, how they created pressure instead of reacting to it.

Their battle IQ wasn’t just higher.

It was sharper.

Refined.

Like a weapon that had been used and perfected over time.

And Jelo—

Had seen it.

Felt it.

Survived it.

All of it would matter.

Especially for the fight tomorrow.

That wasn’t just another match.

That was something else entirely.

Stronger opponents.

Higher stakes.

Less room for mistakes.

He knew that now.

More than before.

His body reminded him of everything he had gone through.

Every step he took carried weight.

Not because he couldn’t move—but because the damage was still there.

His ribs still ached.

His arm still carried strain.

His shoulder still burned faintly where the heat had grazed him.

But he wasn’t worried.

Not really.

Because of one thing.

The Dragon System.

It wasn’t just about power.

It wasn’t just about abilities.

It adapted.

It supported.

It healed.

Faster than normal.

Faster than it should.

By the time the next fight came—

He’d be ready.

That much he knew.

By the time he reached his dorm, the adrenaline had faded.

What remained was exhaustion.

The kind that didn’t just sit in your muscles—but in your bones.

He pushed the door open slowly.

The familiar space greeted him.

Quiet.

Still.

A sharp contrast to the chaos of the arena.

And the moment he stepped inside—

He let go.

Not completely.

But enough.

He walked forward, each step slightly heavier than the last, until he reached his bed.

Then—

He dropped onto it.

No hesitation.

No adjustment.

Just impact.

The mattress dipped under his weight, and for a brief second, his body resisted the sudden stillness. The tension hadn’t fully left yet—it lingered, like his muscles hadn’t realized the fight was over.

Then—

It started to fade.

Atla was already there.

Watching him.

He hadn’t said anything at first.

Just observed.

And what he saw—

Was clear.

Jelo looked rough.

Not just tired.

Not just worn out.

Rough.

His face carried the marks of the fight—small cuts, dirt, faint bruising already forming beneath the surface. His clothes were worse. Torn in places, stained with dust and burn marks, stretched from impact and movement.

Even his posture said something.

He wasn’t standing straight anymore.

Not fully.

There was weight in how he carried himself.

“What a rough day you’ve had,” Atla said.

His tone wasn’t mocking.

It wasn’t even surprised.

Just… stated.

Jelo let out a small breath.

“Yeah…”

He didn’t move from the bed.

Didn’t even turn fully.

“Today was really rough.”

There was a pause.

Then—

“And I’ve gotten a new ability.”

That got Atla’s attention.

He shifted slightly, leaning forward just enough to show interest.

“Really?”

Jelo nodded faintly against the bed.

“Yeah.”

There wasn’t excitement in his voice.

Not outwardly.

But there was something there.

Something quieter.

“I’ve gotten a new ability.”

Atla studied him for a second longer.

“You just ‘got’ a new ability after looking like that?” he said, gesturing slightly toward Jelo’s condition.

Jelo gave a faint, tired smirk.

“Something like that.”

A short silence followed.

Then Atla spoke again.

“So what is it?”

His curiosity was clear now.

“Is it firepower?”

“Explain it to me.”

Jelo stared upward for a moment.

At the ceiling.

At nothing in particular.

Then exhaled slowly.

“Well…”

“It definitely is firepower.”

That much he knew for sure.

What he had released—

That wasn’t anything else.

But beyond that…

“You’ll see it during the fight.”

Atla raised an eyebrow slightly.

“That’s it?”

Jelo shifted slightly on the bed, wincing just a little as his ribs reminded him they were still injured.

“I don’t want to explain too much.”

There was a pause.

Then he added—

“Because I don’t fully understand it myself.”

That was the truth.

The ability wasn’t something he had trained.

Not something he had practiced step by step.

It came out when he needed it.

When he was pushed far enough.

And now—

He had it.

But understanding it?

That would take time.

Control.

Practice.

Something he didn’t fully have yet.

Atla leaned back slightly, crossing his arms.

“Hm.”

That answer didn’t fully satisfy him.

But he understood it.

Some abilities weren’t simple.

Some weren’t meant to be explained easily.

Especially ones gained like that.

“In that case,” Atla said, “you better figure it out before tomorrow.”

Jelo didn’t respond immediately.

His eyes were already getting heavier.

The exhaustion was catching up quickly now.

Faster than before.

“Yeah…”

“I will…”

His voice trailed slightly.

His body relaxed further into the bed.

The tension finally started leaving completely.

His breathing slowed.

Evened out.

The pain was still there—

But distant now.

Fading into the background.

The Dragon System was already working.

He could feel it faintly.

Not actively.

Not consciously.

But it was happening.

Repair.

Recovery.

Restoration.

By morning—

He’d be better.

Not perfect.

But ready.

Atla watched him for a few more seconds.

Then shook his head slightly.

“Crazy…”

He muttered under his breath.

Then turned away.

Jelo didn’t hear it.

He was already drifting.

His mind slipping away from the present.

But even as sleep took him—

Something remained.

A faint awareness.

A memory.

The feeling of that ability.

Infernal Dragon Surge.

The heat.

The pressure.

The release.

It lingered.

Not as something wild.

But as something waiting.

Something he would have to face again.

Understand.

Control.

Master.

Because tomorrow—

Wouldn’t give him time to hesitate.

And this time—

He wouldn’t be the one reacting.

Deep within him—

The draconic essence stirred.

Quiet.

Steady.

Ready.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep