BNHA: Lioren

A year had passed.

Leon Lioren was now five years old.

At a glance, not much had changed. He was still a child, still shorter than most of his peers, still a boy deemed quirkless in a world ruled by quirks. But beneath the surface, where no one could see, things were vastly different.

Because Leon Lioren was not powerless.

He had a secret.

One that no one else in the world knew about.

The Class Wheel.

Over the past year, he had tested it as thoroughly as a five-year-old could. The rules were simple yet firm.

He could switch to any of the four classes at will.Switching required mana, but maintaining a class did not.Each class granted two skills, but using them also drained mana.His mana pool was pitifully small.

That last part was the most frustrating.

No matter what he did, his mana capacity barely increased. Over the span of a whole year, it had only gone up by 0.1% per week. At this rate, it would take years before he saw any real progress.

Still, he had learned plenty.

Damage Dealer, Mage, Tank, Assassin—he had tried them all.

Mage was a nightmare to use. Magic required large amounts of mana, and he simply didn't have enough. Every time he activated one of the spells, he nearly passed out.

Tank had a similar issue. The defensive skills made his body tougher, but they also consumed more mana than he could afford. He had no stamina to sustain prolonged use.

Assassin was more efficient, but its skills still drained his mana too fast.

That left Damage Dealer.

It was, without a doubt, the best choice for him right now.

Its abilities—Quick Slash and Combat Instincts—didn't consume as much mana compared to the others. Quick Slash let him execute fast, precise attacks, and Combat Instincts gave him a natural sense for movement and positioning.

Of course, he had only tested these skills in his room, which meant he had no idea how effective they'd be in a real fight.

But it was progress.

And he would take what he could get.

Still…

It all came back to mana.

That was the bottleneck. The one thing limiting his growth.

If he couldn't increase the quantity, then he had to find a way to increase its quality.

And that's what led him to this moment.

Right now, sitting cross-legged on his bed, eyes shut in deep concentration, Leon prepared to attempt something that might be completely impossible—

Creating a mana core.

It was a ridiculous idea.

There was no proof that it would work. No guidebook. No instructions. He was essentially making this up as he went along.

But so what?

He had read hundreds of light novels, watched countless anime, played RPGs with magic systems that all had one thing in common—energy could be cultivated.

Mana, Qi, Chakra—it was all the same concept in different flavors.

And if they could do it, then so could he.

Probably.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

"Spirit, I say."

Leon muttered the words like a chant.

In all those stories, energy responded to will.

If he believed it enough, wanted it enough, then maybe, just maybe…

His mana would listen.

He took a deep breath.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Slow. Steady. Focused.

He visualized his lower abdomen, the place where dantians were usually located in cultivation novels.

There—that's where he would condense his mana.

Leon imagined the mana inside him—a tiny, fragile stream flowing through his body.

It was weak. Scattered. Aimless.

But he would change that.

He reached for it, not with his hands, but with his will.

He commanded it to gather.

To spiral.

To compress.

At first, nothing happened.

His mana resisted, slipping through his grasp like water through fingers.

He clenched his teeth.

"No."

He refused to accept that.

Try again.

Leon pulled at the energy once more, forcing it to obey.

Again, it scattered.

His forehead creased with effort. His small hands curled into fists.

Again.

It was slow. Sluggish. But this time, it lingered.

Tiny wisps of mana trembled in his lower abdomen, flickering like dying embers.

"Come on…"

His breathing became shallow. Sweat beaded his forehead. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

And then—

A shift.

Like the faintest ripple across still water.

His mana moved.

Not aimlessly. Not chaotically.

But deliberately.

Leon's eyes snapped open.

Something had changed.

It wasn't much. Not even close to a proper core. But in that moment, for the first time ever—

His mana listened.

It was weak. Fragile. Barely there.

But it was real.

And that was enough.

…

Time passed.

Months slipped by in quiet, relentless progress.

Leon sat cross-legged on the ground, eyes closed, breathing slow and controlled. The air around him felt still—charged, almost—as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Inside him, something stirred.

The mana core in his lower abdomen, once barely a flicker of energy, now pulsed with steady, rhythmic power.

And it was growing.

At first, his mana had trickled like a leaky faucet, increasing at a painfully slow rate of 0.1% per week. But ever since he successfully formed a core and established rudimentary mana channels, that growth had skyrocketed.

1% per day.

It was an absurd jump in progress. What should have taken ten weeks was now happening in a single day.

And yet, for all the good news, there was plenty of bad.

Mana refinement and compression were a nightmare.

The very thing that made his mana stronger also made training a living hell.

To engage in refinement, he had to concentrate completely—any stray thought, any lapse in focus, and the process collapsed.

Worse still, his ability to maintain it wasn't dictated by his mana reserves, but by his stamina.

And he was a five-year-old.

His stamina was terrible.

The longest he had managed to refine his mana in one sitting was eight minutes. After that, his whole body felt like it was being crushed under a mountain. Every muscle ached, his lungs burned, and he barely had the strength to move.

It was brutal.

But… it was also effective.

With every session that left him gasping for breath, his stamina increased.

His body developed.

Where once he had been smaller than his peers, lagging behind in growth, now he stood shoulder to shoulder with them.

And he wasn't stopping.

At this rate, he would surpass them soon.

But the difficulties of cultivation weren't the only problems in his life.

One day, he was called into the living room, where his parents sat on the couch, looking a little too pleased with themselves.

His mother smiled warmly. "Leon, sweetheart, we need to talk about something."

His father nodded. "It's about your brother."

Leon blinked. "...Okay?"

His younger brother, who was about to turn three, was apparently the reason for yet another 'great occasion.'

Their parents had decided to throw a party—not just for his brother's birthday, but also to celebrate their wedding anniversary.

And they were inviting everyone.

Family. Friends. Important people.

And Leon…

Well, Leon wasn't invited.

Instead, he was being sent away to his maternal grandfather.

Apparently, his grandfather had outright refused to attend the party. And, for whatever reason, had specifically requested Leon's presence instead.

His mother clasped her hands together, as if expecting him to be thrilled.

Leon tilted his head slightly.

"So, let me get this straight." His voice was calm, but his expression was unreadable. "You're throwing a big party for him… but not for me."

A brief, awkward silence.

His mother's smile wavered. "Well, you see, it's just—"

"It's not a big deal," his father interjected quickly. "It's just that, you know, your brother is still young, and this is an important event for us as well, so we didn't want any unnecessary trouble."

Unnecessary trouble.

Leon had to fight the urge to scoff.

He had never caused trouble. Ever.

It was laughable, really.

But was he upset?

Not really.

It wasn't like he particularly cared about some party, anyway.

If anything, he was mildly intrigued.

This grandfather of his—the man responsible for his very existence—was someone he had never met before.

He had never even heard much about him.

But now, for some reason, the old man wanted to meet only him.

And that…

Well, that was interesting.

Besides, this was happening at the end of November, in exactly one week.

Plenty of time to squeeze in some more cultivation before then.

Leon gave his parents a polite, indifferent smile.

"Alright."

His mother blinked. "...Alright?"

He shrugged. "Sure. I don't mind."

They exchanged glances, as if unsure how to respond.

But Leon had already checked out of the conversation.

His mind was elsewhere.

He wasn't thinking about the party.

He wasn't thinking about his parents.

He was thinking about the mysterious old man who had specifically requested to meet him.

And what that might mean for the future.