Creation System: Reborn As A Fantasy Worldsmith

As the boys moved closer to him, Lyrian felt a surge of fear and adrenaline. He knew he had to act fast if he wanted to get out of this with only a few scratches.

In a quick motion, he swung his fist and managed to land a solid punch on the fat boy's jaw, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

For a moment, Lyrian felt a glimmer of hope, but it was quickly extinguished as Cedric delivered a crushing blow to his temple, sending him tumbling to the ground in a daze.

Immediately, horrific memories of abuse from his past life flashed in front of his eyes, causing a fear of trauma to overcome him.

He couldn't think straight anymore and curled up into a ball as the two dealt another few painful blows to his stomach and head before dashing away, leaving him bruised and bloodied.

He was barely conscious but realized that he had been foolish to think that he could win a fight against a group of seasoned bullies without any actual combat experience.

But more than that… he realized that he was too weak. Maybe not physically, but mentally.

He clenched his teeth and dug his nails into the skin of his palms, angry at himself for being so pathetic.

He had promised himself never to be a victim of abuse ever again, and yet there he was, battered to shit without the ability to do anything.

Suddenly, a flurry of emotions overcame him, and for the next few moments, he lay there… and wept.

He wept about his weakness. He wept about his past. He wept about his inability to be a normal human being. He didn't even know what that was.

After this, he raised his right hand into the air and held it there for a few seconds before launching it down onto his nose.

*Crack*

Blood spurted across his face and he winced in pain, but he kept his hand on his broken nose.

"Never again!" He said quietly, his voice struggling from the lingering sadness in his voice.

"I won't ever fucking lose again."

After staying in that same position for another few minutes, he finally stood up.

Clearly, the training he was doing right now wasn't enough. Not at all. It not only needed to be much more grueling but also more effective.

Lyrian had realized the importance of actual experience during a fight.

If only he could have kept his composure, he might have had a chance, but the nerves of the fight got to him, ending up in his loss.

Maybe the experience was the thing he was lacking, the thing that could help him forget about his traumatic past.

He took in one deep breath, turning his mind away from those things and back to the situation that he now had in his hands.

His clothes were messy, and more importantly, he was beaten to a pulp.

Hell, he broke his own nose in frustration.

How would he explain this to his parents? Just thinking about it was making his head hurt.

"The chance they let me out of the house ever again is zero…"

As he said this, looking down at the forest in front of him, he heard some rustling from his side.

After turning to take a look, he realized that the fatty from before was still knocked out, and finally seemed to be waking up.

"What the hell? They didn't take him with them?" He originally thought, but figured that they wouldn't want to hang out with the boy who got knocked unconscious by a Theageld in one go, so it made sense.

Just as the fat boy sat up, Lyrian suddenly kicked him square in the nose, sending him into another coma in an almost comedic fashion.

After a little pickpocketing session, Lyrian left the hill, jacking the fatty blind.

As he went back into town, he had a different aura to him. His promise to not lose ever again was resolute.

Instead of being emotional, Lyrian was now going to put all his efforts into becoming stronger, and that included doing whatever he had to in order to complete his goals.

No longer was he going to be gullible. After realizing that his trauma was still just on his doorstep, this time he was going to crush that trauma into nothing through sheer force.

After heading into town, he used the sum of the money he stole from the fat kid to buy the best healing elixirs he could.

That meant that the elixirs would be a low grade, of course, as not many 6-year-olds would have a bunch of money lying around, no matter if they were of noble descent or not.

Still, all Lyrian had were a few small injuries, nothing a few weak healing elixirs couldn't fix.

He even had some money left over: 2 silvers and 60 coppers in total, which was the equivalent of 26 dollars in US currency.

The currency system in Yaltas and many other kingdoms and empires in the continent of the Mortal Plains followed the same rule of 10 coppers making 1 silver coin and 10 silvers making 1 gold coin.

From there the currency rose to platinum plates, spirit stones, and other things, but Lyrian wasn't going to be dealing with that anytime soon.

After arriving home, he found time to sneak in, quickly throwing his dirty clothes in the magic cloth-washing-machine before putting on a new pair without his mother noticing. (Author note: How convenient...)

After getting into his room and laying down, he thought to himself as to what he should do next.

Many things were becoming problems recently.

Food was one of the main things that he was lacking. With his intense training routine that he was fixed on making even more rigorous after today's encounter, the food currently given to him was simply not enough.

Along with that, cultivation wasn't going to be plausible on that hill anymore, and his new training that would be increased in difficulty wouldn't be able to be performed at home.

And so, there was only one solution to all of this…

However, just before he said the solution out loud, revealing his new, grand plan, a notification from Gear suddenly popped up.

[For failing the previous quest, your punishment will now begin. For the next 24 hours, your stats will be all -10]

Instantly, Lyrian felt his limbs weaken, and his entire body became limp. Before long, he had lost consciousness…