I Awakened an EX-Rank Talent: Summoner of Infinite Canvas

The next morning, Malcolm found himself jogging around his neighborhood, his breath ragged and his muscles burning. If it hadn't been for the quest that appeared yesterday, he wouldn't have dreamed of doing something as absurd as working out. But the quest's ominous warning left him no choice.

[ Daily Quest: Spark's Trial. 1/100 ]

The Summoner must not only rely on its summons and must prove that the summoner's worth on his summon.

Objective: Prove your strength, endurance, and determination by completing the following tasks in one session:

Run 4 Miles

Complete 100 Push-Ups

Perform 100 Curl-Ups

Execute 100 Pull-Ups

Rewards: 500XP, +5 MAG Stat

Quest Failure: Death

The quest's failure condition was what really motivated him. He wasn't about to test whether the system could actually kill him.

Malcolm pushed through the exhaustion, his bionic legs making the running portion slightly more bearable. Every now and then, a notification would pop up:

[ +1 END ]

[ +1 AGI ]

When he moved on to the push-ups, curl-ups, and pull-ups, his arms and core screamed in protest, but he kept going. Notifications continued to appear:

[ +1 STR ]

By the time he completed the last pull-up, he collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air. A final notification popped up:

[ Quest Complete ]

Rewards: 500XP, +5 MAG Stat

[ You have reached Level 2 ]

Malcolm felt a surge of energy course through his body, rejuvenating him slightly. He sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow, and checked his stats. The improvements were small but noticeable.

"Level 2," he muttered, a small smile forming on his face. "Not bad."

It was nearly afternoon by the time he made his way back to his apartment. Every step up the stairs felt like a monumental effort, his muscles threatening to give out. The only thing that held up was his bionic legs, which handled the stress effortlessly.

"These things are amazing," Malcolm said to himself, marveling at the technology. "The price was really worth it."

As he reached his apartment, he collapsed onto the sofa, his body utterly spent. But despite the exhaustion, he felt a sense of accomplishment. He had completed the first day of Spark's Trial, and he was one step closer to becoming stronger.

Veyl floated over, its pages fluttering with pride. "Well done, My Lord. You've taken the first step forward."

Malcolm chuckled weakly. "Yeah, but there are 99 more days of this. I'm not sure if I'll survive."

Veyl's aura glowed softly, its tone reassuring. "You're stronger than you think, My Lord. And with each day, you'll only grow stronger."

Malcolm nodded, his determination unwavering. "Yeah, I'll just have to take it one day at a time."

Three days later, Luna visited Malcolm's neighborhood, her light armor gleaming in the sunlight. As she walked down the street, she spotted Malcolm sprinting in the distance, his bionic legs moving with fluid precision. She couldn't help but smile, amused by the sight.

Malcolm had discovered that every time he pushed his stamina to the limit, an additional +1 END stat would be added. It was a small but significant reward for his efforts. However, the process was grueling. After running for miles, he would often collapse, gasping for air, his lungs burning as he struggled to breathe. But he always got back up, determined to push through.

To cope with the physical strain, Malcolm adapted his mindset, drawing inspiration from a movie he had watched years ago—Forrest Gump. He imagined himself like Forrest, running without doubt or hesitation, his mind clear and focused. It helped him push through the pain, but sometimes it was too much. His muscles would scream in protest, threatening to give out entirely.

Luna watched from a distance, her arms crossed and a playful smile on her face. She didn't know about the quest or the stakes involved, but she found Malcolm's dedication both amusing and admirable.

"Hey, Mr. Heart!" she called out as he sprinted past her.

Malcolm skidded to a stop, his chest heaving as he turned to face her. "Luna! What are you doing here?"

Luna chuckled, walking over to him. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd check on you. Looks like you've been busy."

Malcolm wiped the sweat from his brow, his breathing still ragged. "Yeah, just… trying to get stronger."

Luna raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "By running yourself into the ground? You're either really dedicated or really crazy."

Malcolm laughed weakly, leaning against a nearby lamppost for support. "A bit of both, I guess."

Luna's expression softened, her tone more serious. "You know, if you're serious about getting stronger, there are better ways to train. I could help you, if you'd like."

Malcolm hesitated, his mind racing. Luna's offer was tempting, but he wasn't sure if he could trust her with the details of his quest. For now, he decided to keep it to himself.

"Thanks, Luna," he said, his tone grateful. "I'll keep that in mind. But for now, I think I'll stick to this."

Luna shrugged, her playful smile returning. "Suit yourself. Just don't overdo it, okay? You're no good to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion."

Malcolm nodded, a small smile forming on his face. "I'll try not to."

As Luna walked away, Malcolm took a deep breath and resumed his sprint. His muscles were still burning, but he pushed through the pain, his mind focused on the goal ahead.

Forrest Gump's words echoed in his mind: "I just felt like running."

And so, Malcolm ran.

After completing the grueling Spark's Trial, Malcolm stumbled into a nearby café, his body trembling with exhaustion. He ordered a shake, his hands shaking so much that he could barely hold the straw. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he forced himself to take a sip, the cold drink soothing his parched throat.

As he sat there, trying to recover, he glanced up at his apartment window. The Stickman Legion and Platoon were watching him from above, their tiny stick-figure faces filled with awe and determination.

King Leonidas stood at the forefront, his voice booming even from a distance. "Our God is training himself to his limits! We, too, must train 100 times harder if we wish to be acknowledged by our Lord! For the Infinite Creator! AHoo! AHoo! AHoo!"

The Stickman Legion roared in unison, their voices echoing through the apartment. Inspired by Malcolm's dedication, they threw themselves into their training with even greater fervor.

Lieutenant Winters, equally inspired, rallied his men. "You heard him, soldiers! If our Creator can push himself this hard, so can we! Let's show him what we're made of!"

The Stickman Platoon responded with a resounding "Yes, sir!" and immediately began their drills, their movements precise and disciplined.

From the background, Veyl watched with a smile, its pages fluttering with pride. It floated closer to Malcolm, its tone encouraging. "My Lord, your dedication is inspiring not only to me but to your creations as well. They're pushing themselves harder because of you."

Malcolm glanced up at the apartment window, a small smile forming on his face despite his exhaustion. "I guess I'm setting an example, huh?"

Veyl's aura glowed softly. "Indeed, My Lord. Your strength and determination are shaping them into a force to be reckoned with."

Malcolm took another sip of his shake, his hands still trembling. "Well, I'm glad they're inspired. But I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."

Veyl's tone turned reassuring. "You're stronger than you think, My Lord. And with each day, you'll only grow stronger. Remember, the Spark's Trial is not just about physical strength—it's about proving your worth as a summoner."

Malcolm nodded, his determination reignited. "Yeah, you're right. I'll just have to take it one day at a time."

As he finished his shake, Malcolm felt a small surge of energy. He stood up, his legs still shaky but holding firm. "Alright, let's get back to it."

Veyl floated beside him, its pages fluttering with pride. "That's the spirit, My Lord."

As Malcolm made his way back to his apartment, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. His creations were training just as hard as he was, and together, they were becoming stronger.

For the first time in a long while, Malcolm felt like he was truly on the right path.

Eight days had passed since Malcolm received the Spark's Trial quest. Curled up in his blanket, shivering with fever, he muttered, "Status," to check his progress.

[ Malcolm Heart ]

Age: 24

Level: 3 (2000/2500)

Talent: (EX-Rank) Summoner of Infinite Canvas(Lv.1)

Traits: Soulbound Creation(Lv.1), Mindscape(Lv.1)

STR: 24

AGI: 21

VIT: 16

END: 27

INT: 15

MAG: 45

Malcolm chuckled weakly, a green slime dripping from his nose. "Hehe, my stats are now of an F-Ranker—though a low F-Ranker. The only stat that's higher is the MAG stat, which can now be classified as high E-Ranker."

After completing the 7th Spark's Trial quest, Malcolm had pushed his body to its absolute limit. The sudden shift from a relaxed lifestyle to intense daily training had taken its toll, and he had caught a fever.

The Stickman Legion and Platoon had been taking care of him, their tiny stick-figure forms bustling around the apartment. They brought him water, fluffed his pillows, and even tried to cook soup—though that had ended in a minor kitchen fire.

When Luna found him curled up in bed, she immediately went out and bought medicine. She instructed the stickmen on the proper dosage and how to care for him, her tone both stern and caring.

As Malcolm lay there, shivering and miserable, a new quest notification appeared:

[ Quest: Fever is for the Weak. ]

Objective: Recover from your fever within the allotted time (7 Days).

Rewards: 1500XP, +8 VIT Stat

Malcolm groaned, his voice hoarse. "Great. Just what I needed—another brutal quest."

Despite his frustration, he couldn't deny that the quests had brought considerable rewards. His stats had improved significantly, and he was slowly but surely becoming stronger.

The Stickman Legion and Platoon continued to care for him, their loyalty unwavering. King Leonidas stood guard at the foot of his bed, while Lieutenant Winters organized the medics to ensure Malcolm received the proper care.

Veyl floated nearby, its pages fluttering with concern. "My Lord, you must rest and recover. The quest's rewards will be worth it, but you need to take care of yourself."

Malcolm nodded weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I know. But this fever is killing me."

Veyl's aura glowed softly, its tone reassuring. "You're much more than that, My Lord. And with each day, you'll only grow stronger."

Malcolm closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "I just hope I can recover in time."

As he drifted off to sleep, the Stickman Legion and Platoon continued their vigil, their tiny forms a testament to their unwavering loyalty.