The Convergent Path (Reincarnation/LitRPG)

Sand swirled in Haven's training arena, afternoon sun baking the packed earth. The light cut through the haze in golden shafts, illuminating particles. Fin circled Annie, practice sword loose in his grip. He felt the familiar tension in his muscles, the control that had become second nature over years of rigorous training.

Annie's stance tightened, short sword raised, feet planted, better than two weeks ago, sharper. Her movements had acquired a precision that impressed him, though he'd never admit it aloud. Sweat beaded her brow, black hair clinging damp to her forehead, but her eyes burned with fierce concentration, tracking him like a predator. The determination in her gaze reminded him of himself when he'd first arrived, hungry, desperate to prove something to the world.

Twenty Year 1s sparred around them in pairs, the arena alive with the symphony of steel clanging against steel. Instructor Gavric's growl cut through the cacophony like a knife, "Move, don't stand!" His voice carried the weight of experience, each word a command that sent students scrambling to obey. The man himself stood at the arena's edge, arms crossed over his massive chest, eyes narrowed as he surveyed his charges with the critical gaze of a craftsman inspecting unfinished work.

Annie lunged, her slash arcing clean through the air with newfound confidence. Fin recognized the technique she'd been drilling for days, saw the slight correction in her wrist position that gave her strike more power. He sidestepped with practiced ease, blade tipping hers aside, clang, then tapped her wrist, light but firm. A clean counter, one that acknowledged her improvement while demonstrating the gap that remained between them.

She reset, jaw tight with frustration that she quickly mastered. Fin noted the way she inhaled once, deeply, centering herself before she thrust forward, quicker now, aiming for his chest with improved form. He twisted, parried.

"Guard your left side," he murmured, quiet enough that only she could hear. It wasn't his job to instruct, that's what Gavric was for, but he'd noticed the consistent opening in her stance.

Her form had improved remarkably, angles tighter, weight balanced, but he outclassed her fundamentally, his Tier Two speed and strength carefully veiled as Tier One finesse. The deception had become second nature, a constant performance that taxed him mentally more than physically. Sometimes he wondered if maintaining the façade was worth the effort, but then he remembered what happened his first day in this class and all of the rumors that spread like wildfire.

She swung again, horizontal, testing his reaction time. Fin ducked, the blade passing over his head close enough that he felt the displaced air, then tapped her shoulder, point made. Annie stepped back, panting, sword dipping slightly as she caught her breath. "You're too fast," she muttered, but there was no bitterness in her tone, only assessment, a student analyzing a problem to be solved.

"Let's keep going," he said, tone deliberately flat as he wiped dust from his tunic. "Your recovery time between strikes has improved." The compliment was understated but genuine. She nodded, silent, determined, and reset her stance, muscles tensing as she prepared for another exchange.

Before they could continue, Gavric's shadow loomed over the packed earth between them, his 7-foot bulk blocking the sun, face creased with lines earned through decades of combat. The instructor's presence alone made several nearby students falter in their forms, an instinctive reaction to the pressure he emanated without conscious effort.

"Aodh!" he barked, jerking his head toward the arena's edge. His voice carried no room for argument or delay.

Fin racked his practiced sword, the blade sliding into the hook with a soft click. He nodded once to Annie, a silent acknowledgment of their session, before following Gavric across the training ground. As they moved, students' eyes trailed after them, whispers buzzing in their wake: "Gavric's pet," "Wonder what he did." The attention made Fin's shoulder tighten imperceptibly, Equilibrium working overtime to keep his expression neutral.

The instructor stopped at the arena's perimeter, turning to face Fin with an evaluative gaze. He crossed his arms, the movement causing the muscles beneath his scarred skin to shift like tectonic plates. His greatsword stood propped nearby, a monstrous thing that most students could barely lift, let alone wield with the deadly grace Gavric displayed in demonstrations.

"Why ain't you improving, Aodh?" Gavric's question came without preamble, his voice a rough growl that matched his appearance. "Same moves, sharp, yeah, but no growth. What's holding you?"

The question hung in the air between them. Fin's Electromagnetic Perception pinged automatically, sensing Gavric's dense mana core, a wall of power he'd someday climb, if he survived long enough. The instructor's energy signature was unique, wild yet disciplined.

"Not much room left," Fin said carefully, measuring his words. He'd learned early that lying to Gavric was pointless, the man had an uncanny ability to detect deception, but complete honesty was equally dangerous.

Gavric's eyes narrowed at the response, studying Fin with renewed interest, then widened suddenly, a feral grin splitting his weathered face. "Tier Two ready, huh? Skills capped, won't budge 'til you evolve." He laughed, the sound deep and slightly unhinged, echoing across the arena and drawing more curious glances. "Knew you were hiding something, spotted it when you took my blade's kiss."

Fin unconsciously touched his healed scar on his neck, trophy from their spar two weeks ago, when Gavric had tested him. The memory of that moment, lightning erupting, steel kissing skin, remained vivid.

Gavric waved a hand dismissively. "No point grinding here, Tier One spars and drills won't push you anymore." His voice dropped lower, conspiratorship in his tone. "Join me and Kellan. That brat made me give him private sessions in order for him to take the assistant job. They're in the upperclassman training chambers. The kind of training that grows claws."

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The offer was unexpected, the training chambers was typically reserved for Third Years and above, not for students barely into their first semester. It represented opportunity but brought about more scrutiny. Before Fin could respond, Gavric fished a token from his belt, bronze, Sensus Rune etched, emanating a warmth that Fin could feel before it landed in his palm.

"Gets you in anytime, upperclassman spire, underground." Gavric explained, watching Fin's reaction closely. "Don't lose it. Those ain't easy to come by without the right clearance."

Fin examined the token briefly. He sent a few strands of mana into it, bonding to it. The magic was subtle but sophisticated, typical of Haven's security measures.

"Thanks," Fin said, pocketing the token with deliberate casualness, feeling its solid weight against his thigh. "Need to head back to my dorm to prep. Dungeon Diving's running the Tier One Permanent beneath Haven later."

At the mention of the dungeon, Gavric's expression shifted to one of grudging approval. "Running it so soon into the year. Knox must really be pushing you all." His massive hand clapped Fin's shoulder, hard enough to stagger him, then he added, "Knowing you, you might actually clear all 25 waves. Don't get too bored."

With a final evaluative look, Gavric turned away, bellowing across the arena: "Shard! Pick up that sword, again!" Annie, who had been watching their exchange from a distance, immediately straightened her posture and raised her blade, ready to demonstrate that she deserved the instructor's attention.

Fin slipped out of the arena, feeling the weight of both the token and the implications of Gavric's offer. The dungeon loomed in his thoughts, first taste of a real dungeon. Each step away from the training ground felt like progress toward something larger, a future that remained frustratingly obscured despite his best efforts to map its contours.

The central courtyard between training grounds and dormitories buzzed with activity as Fin crossed it. Senior students gathered in tight clusters, discussing recent missions or upcoming trials, their voices carrying an easy confidence that came with survival. Tier Two and Three students were easily identifiable by their bearing alone, power sitting comfortably on their shoulders like well-worn cloaks.

A group of Third Years demonstrated a complex mana manipulation technique near the central fountain, drawing appreciative murmurs from younger students. Fin paused briefly to observe, his Electromagnetic Perception automatically analyzing the flow and structure of their technique. He filed the information away for later experimentation.

"Ready for your dungeon run?" The voice came from behind him, familiar but unexpected.

Fin turned to find Instructor Mara leaning against a stone pillar, arms crossed over her chest. Her black hair back in a practical braid, her silver tunic as pristine as normal.

"Keeping tabs on me?" Fin said smirking, continuing his walk toward the dormitories at a measured pace. She fell into step beside him, her movement fluid and graceful, her Tier still a mystery to him.

"Of course," she replied with a slight smile. "I have to keep an eye on potential troublemakers."

Fin adjusted his expression, annoyed that he'd been labeled a troublemaker. "Me a troublemaker?"

Mara nodded, "The youngster who fought three Year Twos on his first day? Certainly, no troublemaker." She waved her hand. "But that's not important focus on the Dungeon you're about to run."

Fin stopped and turned to face her, "any advice?"

"The waves are about endurance and adaptability. Don't get too locked into a single strategy."

It was more advice than she typically shared, and Fin acknowledged it with a slight incline of his head. "Thanks."

They walked in companionable silence for a few moments before reaching the fork where their paths diverged, his to the First Year dormitories, hers to the wherever she was headed.

"Don't get too bored down there," she said as they parted, echoing Gavric's sentiment almost exactly.

Before he could respond, she was gone, moving with the preternatural speed that marked her as something more than an ordinary Instructor. Fin watched her disappear around a corner, then continued toward his dormitory, thoughts turning again to the upcoming challenge.

The dorm was still as Fin entered, Ren gone, his bed neat and untouched, late sun slanting through the narrow window to cast long shadows across the stone floor. The silence was welcome after the noise of the training arena and courtyard, allowing him to center his thoughts as he prepared.

He dropped his satchel on his bed and methodically began his preparations. The tunic he'd worn for training, now dust-covered and sweat-stained, was swapped for a lighter one, designed for freedom of movement rather than protection. His tantō was checked carefully, blade sharp, hilt secure, the weapon a comfort at his hip. Dungeon Diving would begin in two hours, Knox's warning from Day 2 echoing in his mind: "survive, don't die." The instructor's blunt assessment had seemed melodramatic then; now, with firsthand knowledge of Haven's dangers, it felt like prudent advice.

A Permanent Tier One beneath Haven, Waves type, swarms of increasingly powerful enemies to clear, System reward based on how many waves you can clear. The dungeon was predictable in structure but unpredictable in execution, no two runs ever quite the same.

As Fin sat on his bed, the sun continued its slow descent, shadows lengthening across the room. The token Gavric had given him sat on his desk, occasionally catching the light and glinting with promise, or warning. Private training with a Tier Four instructor was an opportunity few First Years received, but it also meant increased scrutiny, more eyes tracking his progress, measuring his growth against expectations.

He pulled his System Sheet into manifestation with practiced ease, the glowing interface appearing before him:

Name: Fin Aodh
Age: 13
Core Status: Tier Two Ready – Elemental Imprint Required
Active Skills:

Thunderfang (Unique)

Level 25 [Evolution Available]

Plasma Compression Burst (Unique)

Level 25 [Evolution Available]

Passive Skills:

Convergent Equilibrium (Unique)

Level 10

Electromagnetic Perception (Unique)

Level 25 [Evolution Available]

Scientific Warfare (Unique)

Level 25 [Evolution Available]

Ten active slots, five passive, 15 total, capped unless synergy fused them. The limitation chafed, a ceiling he couldn't break through without evolution. His skills waited, evolution locked until he achieved Tier Two status, a transformation that required elemental imprint.

Dungeon first, elementals later. One step at a time.

Rising from the bed, he began a series of stretches designed to loosen tight muscles and center his mind. Outside his window, Haven's spires cast long shadows across the grounds as the day moved steadily toward evening. In less than an hour, he would join the other students selected for the dungeon run, descending beneath Haven's foundations into the labyrinth that waited to test them.

The final rays of sunlight faded from his window as he completed his preparations. In the growing darkness, he closed his eyes briefly, centering himself. Then, with practiced precision, he sheathed his tantō and left the quiet dormitory behind.

The dungeon loomed, first taste of Haven's depths.