Ludger kept staring at the faintly shimmering strands of leaf-like hair, the way they seemed alive in a way no human could be. It didn’t take him long to piece things together.

If people in Koa truly knew what she was, rumors would’ve spread like wildfire. Fear, suspicion, maybe even accusations. But that hadn’t happened. Which meant she wasn’t just hiding well—she must have some sort of understanding with the locals.

She probably helps them in secret, Ludger thought, glancing at the faint smell of herbs wafting from her clothes. Medicine, healing… maybe both. That’s why they let her stay tucked away in this alley, why no one comes here aside from dumping trash.

The thought made him clench his jaw. Even if she was useful, they didn’t see her as one of them. They tolerated her because she was convenient, not because they cared.

He tilted his head slightly, watching her retreat into her cloak again. Wouldn’t she be treated better by other dryads? he wondered. But the answer hit him quickly, and it wasn’t a pleasant one.

Half-dryad. Not human, not monster, not even fully a part of her own kind. That meant being rejected by both worlds. Too alien for one, too diluted for the other.

For the first time since chasing her around, Ludger felt something other than annoyance or stubbornness. He felt a faint sting of pity.

So this is why she hides… because she doesn’t belong anywhere.

But pity wasn’t what he needed right now. If anything, it was leverage.

Ludger’s thoughts spun faster than he could hold them. Up until now, all he had seen were humans, small monsters, and the occasional monster flying high above the city walls. But someone like her—a half dryad, flesh and leaf stitched together—was something completely new.

So there are other races in this world…? Maybe elves, dwarves, beastkin? If she exists, then the possibilities are endless. The excitement bubbled inside him, making his chest feel lighter. It wasn’t just a different world anymore; it was a bigger world.

“Are you even listening?” her sharp voice cut through his daydreams, snapping him back to reality. She stood with her arms crossed, eyebrow arched in irritation.

“Yes,” Ludger replied instantly, straightening his posture. Then, without missing a beat, he added, “I still want to see your magic in action.”

Her eyes narrowed, lips curling into a humorless smile. “Persistent brat…” she muttered under her breath.

But Ludger’s gaze didn’t waver. His excitement burned behind his eyes, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip away.

The woman studied him for a long moment, clearly weighing whether to dismiss him again. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she crouched near a cracked clay pot sitting by her doorway. Inside, a withered sprout drooped lifelessly, its leaves shriveled and brown.

She raised her hand over it. A faint green glow pulsed from her fingertips, soft and warm, spilling like sunlight over a tiny plant. Slowly, the withered sprout stirred. Its stem straightened, its leaves flushed with color, and in seconds it was vibrant again—alive.

Ludger’s eyes widened. So that’s healing magic… not just for people, but for life itself.

The familiar chime echoed in his head.

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(You have unlocked the class: Druid)

Class Master: Aronia

Class Skill obtained: Nature’s Touch (Lv 01) – Restore health to plants and minor wounds using mana, restoring ten points multiplied by the level of the skill. Effect increases with Intelligence and Wisdom. Cost: 50 mana per second.

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Ludger’s heart thumped with excitement as he read the screen. Another class. Another step forward.

The woman let the glow fade and stood, brushing dust from her cloak. “Satisfied?” she asked dryly.

Ludger smirked. “More than you think.”

Her leaf-like strands shifted slightly as she turned away, muttering something he couldn’t catch. But this time, she didn’t disappear into the shadows to escape him. She left the pot where it was, the little sprout swaying as if waving in the breeze.

Druid, huh… Ludger thought, clenching his fists with determination. This world really does have more than I imagined. And I’m going to learn all of it.

The moment the screen faded, Ludger wasted no time. He pulled up his status window, dragged the new Druid class into the active slot, and equipped the skill. The change was immediate. His parameters shifted, the numbers jumping higher.

(Druid Class bonus per level up: Intelligence +3, Wisdom +3)

Ludger grinned. Now that’s more like it. Finally, a class that actually plays into magic instead of just brute force.

He crouched down in front of the clay pot the woman had used, the little sprout still trembling faintly with new life. Holding his breath, he lifted his hand over it the same way she had. And then he thought of the skill.

A soft green glow trickled from his palm, warm and light, seeping into the soil. The sprout shivered, then stretched upward, its leaves widening as though basking in invisible sunlight. It grew—just a little, but enough that he could tell the difference.

Ludger’s eyes sparkled. It worked. Just like Aronia did it.

Behind him, Aronia watched in silence, her leafy strands rustling faintly as if moved by an invisible breeze. Her expression didn’t change much, but there was a subtle shift in her gaze.

For the first time, she wasn’t just looking at him as a nuisance.

Aronia’s brows furrowed as she stepped closer, her leafy strands swaying slightly with the movement. She crouched beside the little pot, eyes narrowing at the sprout that now stood taller and greener than it had just moments before.

“…How?” she muttered, her voice low but sharp. “That shouldn’t have worked. Not like that.”

Her gaze snapped to Ludger, suspicion mingling with something else—something close to unease. “You mimicked me once and produced results in seconds. Do you realize how absurd that is? Even for a dryad’s child, it wouldn’t make sense. And you’re not even half of one.”

Ludger tilted his head, forcing himself to look nonchalant. “Guess I’m a quick learner.”

But inside, the words sank heavy. She’s right. This doesn’t make sense. Maurien said I was fast, but this… if I keep picking things up like this, people will stop seeing me as a person. They’ll see me as some kind of freak.

He pressed his lips together, staring at the small plant. His chest swelled faintly with pride—ego whispering that he was special, unique. But along with that came a chill. If I let this go to my head, I’ll stop being human in their eyes. I’ll be something to fear.

Aronia kept watching him, her expression unreadable. For the first time, she looked less annoyed and more… unsettled.

Ludger smirked faintly, hiding his unease behind the usual mask. “So? Are you going to take that as proof I’m worth teaching, or do I need to grow the whole forest next time?”

Aronia’s eyes narrowed at his smirk, her leafy strands rustling like irritated branches in the wind.

“Enough,” she snapped, straightening her posture. “You’ve already learned what you wanted. There’s no reason for you to keep hanging around here.”

Ludger blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sharpness in her tone. “What, that’s it? One spell and I’m dismissed?”

Her gaze hardened. “You wanted to see healing magic in action. You’ve seen it. Be satisfied. And if you’re smart, don’t come back. You’ll only attract the wrong kind of attention.”

With that, she turned on her heel, cloak brushing against the stones, and disappeared back into her dim little home without another word.

The door shut, leaving Ludger standing alone in the alley with the faint glow of his new skill still tingling at his fingertips.

He let out a long sigh. Figures. The moment I show promise, she slams the door in my face. Still… It was enough. Druid class, Nature’s Touch, and proof that there’s more out there than just swords and spells of fire and water.

His lips curled faintly. She may not want me back, but that doesn’t mean I’m done with her yet. Not by a long shot.

Ludger didn’t waste time. The very next day, he decided to see what his new skill could really do. He walked behind his house, balled his fist, and drove it into the stone wall.

The sting was immediate. Skin split, knuckles flared red, and pain shot up his arm.

He gritted his teeth, raised his hand, and used his mana:

(Nature’s Touch).

A soft green glow spread over the wound, warmth seeping into his skin. Slowly, the split began to close. The bleeding stopped, the swelling eased, and within seconds the pain dulled into nothing more than a faint throb.

Ludger smirked, flexing his fingers. “Now that’s convenient.”

He repeated the process again and again over the next few days, each time testing how far he could push before the glow sputtered or his mana ran out. Watching the cuts close and bruises fade gave him a thrill no less satisfying than landing a clean punch.

But he didn’t forget the alley. Every evening, he returned with a bucket or broom, cleaning what new trash had been dumped. Even if Aronia had dismissed him, he still felt a lingering debt. If not for her, he wouldn’t have gained this class—or the means to patch himself up after training.

Sometimes, when he worked late into the evening, he caught a glimpse of her watching silently from the shadows of her doorway. She never said anything, never offered thanks or scolded him. But she didn’t stop him either.

That was enough for Ludger.

For weeks, Ludger pushed himself—scraped knuckles, bruised shins, little cuts here and there, all healed with the green glow of Nature’s Touch. The progress was steady, but slow. He felt the skill edging closer to a breakthrough, yet it never tipped over.

That is, until the day Elaine slipped.

It was rare—almost unthinkable. She was a cook, after all, her hands steady as steel when wielding a knife. But even the most experienced slipped once. As she chopped vegetables at the tavern, the blade nicked her finger. Blood welled instantly, bright against her pale skin.

“Ah—” she hissed, pulling her hand back.

Ludger didn’t even think. He darted forward, grabbed her wrist gently, and used his magic

Green light pulsed from his palm, wrapping around the small wound. The bleeding stopped in seconds, the cut stitching together until nothing remained but clean skin. Elaine blinked, eyes wide, staring at her now-unmarked finger.

And then the system chimed:

----------------------------------------

(Nature’s Touch has leveled up.)

(The Druid class has received 20 experience.)

----------------------------------------

Ludger smirked, satisfaction buzzing through him. Finally. And from something so small… guess healing others gives more experience than patching myself up.

Elaine’s voice trembled slightly as she looked at him. “Ludger… when did you…?”

He only shrugged, playing it off. “Picked up a trick. Useful, huh?”

Inside, though, his grin grew sharper. Healing himself was convenient—but healing others? That was power.

Elaine froze for a moment, staring at her healed finger as though it might start bleeding again. Then her eyes darted to Ludger, wide and trembling with something between awe and fear.

“How… how come you can just pick up abilities like stones at the side of the road?” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Water, fire, and now even healing? At your age… it doesn’t make sense.”

Ludger kept his smirk in place, but inside he felt her words bite deeper than he wanted to admit.

Elaine pressed a hand to her chest, as if steadying her breath. “What path are you walking, Ludger? Where will this take you?”

Her panic wasn’t loud, but it was real, clinging to her tone like damp air in the tavern’s kitchen. She looked at her son—not with distrust, but with dread of what his future might mean.

Ludger averted his eyes, scratching the back of his head. She’s not wrong. Every time I turn around, the system hands me something new. If this keeps up, I’ll end up sticking out like a sore thumb. And in this world, standing out is dangerous.

But instead of saying any of that, he forced a casual grin. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be careful. It’s just another spell. I won’t try to become the very best, like no one ever was.”

Elaine shook her head slowly, though she didn’t push further. Her eyes lingered on him, full of questions she couldn’t bring herself to ask aloud.

A week later, Arslan pushed open the door of their home with his usual lopsided grin—though it didn’t reach his face this time. His left hand was swollen, one finger bent awkwardly, and a few shallow cuts ran along his forearm.

Elaine gasped, rushing to his side. “Arslan! What happened this time?!”

“Job went rough,” he admitted with a shrug, though his jaw tightened when she touched his hand. “Just a broken finger and some scratches. I’ve had worse.”

Elaine gave him a stern glare before her eyes flicked toward Ludger. “Tell him what you can do.”

Ludger raised a brow. “Really, Mom?”

“Yes,” she insisted. “He needs to know.”

Arslan blinked between the two of them. “Know what?”

Ludger sighed dramatically, then smirked. “You could just put some spit on it, Father. Good as new, right?”

Arslan’s face fell instantly. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes clouded over with exaggerated sorrow. He looked like a puppy that had just been kicked.

Skill activated: King of Depression.

Even Ludger felt his lips twitch as his father radiated pure misery. Tch, what a drama queen.

“Fine,” Ludger muttered, stepping forward. He placed his small hand over Arslan’s swollen finger, closed his eyes, and let the green glow flow.

Warmth spread through Arslan’s hand. The cuts sealed neatly, and the broken finger shifted back into place, straightening as though it had never been bent. Within seconds, the swelling eased, leaving only faint redness behind.

Arslan flexed his fingers, eyes widening. “By the gods… it doesn’t even hurt.”

Elaine crossed her arms, satisfaction plain on her face. “Told you.”

Ludger leaned back, smirking faintly. “Better than spit, huh?”

Arslan stared at his perfectly healed hand for a long moment, then suddenly burst into laughter. He scooped Ludger up in his arms despite Elaine’s warning glare, spinning him once before setting him back down.

“Hah! My son is a prodigy!” Arslan boomed, his chest puffed out with pride. “Water, fire, and now healing! At this rate, you’ll outshine me before you even come of age. I’ll have to tell the others—they won’t believe it!”

Elaine’s eyes narrowed like sharpened knives. “Arslan. Do not. Breathe. A word.”

The atmosphere shifted instantly. Where Arslan’s excitement radiated like a blazing torch, Elaine’s voice cut through the room like ice. He raised both hands in mock surrender, though the grin never left his face.

Ludger watched them, lips twitching. Their reactions couldn’t be more different. Dad acts like I just won him the lottery, while Mom acts like I’m carrying a bomb under my shirt.

The contrast was almost comical. But beneath the humor, Ludger understood her worry. Elaine feared the attention he’d draw, while Arslan seemed blinded by pride.

Still, seeing his father beam like that made something stir faintly in his chest—a warmth he didn’t quite know how to deal with.