Prestige Grinding : I Can Reset My Level

Sora felt a new sense of power thrumming beneath his skin. He hadn’t chosen a class yet, but after reaching level 10, something fundamental had shifted—he had unlocked mana. It was wild and untamed, pulsing inside him like an uncoiled spring, waiting to be harnessed. He could already tell that controlling it was going to be difficult.

Mana, in its raw form, was chaotic. Without a class to guide it, most players found it nearly impossible to manage. There were too many potential uses, and without proper filtering or refinement, it was like trying to wield a sword without knowing which end to hold. Letting chaotic mana flow was harmless but trying to use chaotic mana was akin to shooting yourself in the foot and then trying to walk if you had no idea how to do it.

Classes were created to make sense of this chaos. Swordmen filtered mana to create what was known as sword energy, channeling that into strength and speed. In contrast, mages filtered it even further, converting mana into magical power that could be shaped into elements—fire, ice, or lightning. But every conversion came with a cost, reducing the raw mana’s potential in favor of control and focus.

Sora remembered Enzo, his mage friend who died. Enzo had once explained the complexity of magic to him. Wizards didn’t just wield mana; they purified it, refined it, and then specialized in how to use it. Enzo could convert one unit of mana into magic power, but by the time it became usable as freezing magic, only half of that original power remained. Every class had to contend with this loss, but they also developed ways to make better use of the potential locked inside their chosen type of mana.

Yet, Sora was still without a class. And without a class, his mana remained raw, uncontrollable. Trying to use it directly felt like reaching into a storm of fire, ice, and electricity all at once. He knew that he would have to choose a class eventually to fully harness it. But the thought struck him—what if he could skip that? What if he could use mana as a Swordman without actually choosing the class?

Sora closed his eyes and focused.

As Sora sat cross-legged, eyes closed, focusing on the raw, chaotic energy swirling just beneath his skin, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia. He had spent five years as a swordsman, mastering the art of channeling mana into his blade. That experience, though erased in level and statistics, was not forgotten. He could still remember the feeling—the surge of power coursing through his weapon, the precision of his strikes, the harmony between his body and the sword.

The challenge now was different. No class to guide his mana, no pre-set path to follow. He was trying to do what he had done countless times before, but this time, his mana was raw, unfiltered, and completely untamed.

Sora took a deep breath and began the process. He visualized his mana, forcing it to move through his body toward his dantian, the energy center just below his navel. The concept of a dantian was something he had picked up from one of the many cultivation manuals he’d read back when the world started changing. It was a focal point, a storage and refinement area for mana. He would filter it there, just like he used to as a swordman.

It wasn’t easy.

At first, the mana resisted him. Every attempt to channel it felt like trying to scoop up water with his hands—slipping through his fingers, refusing to hold form. His instincts kicked in, trying to force it, but that only made things worse. The mana reacted violently, surging and crashing within his body like a storm.

"Not like that," Sora muttered to himself, correcting his approach. He had to treat it like a delicate process, not brute force. He had to guide the mana, shape it gently.

He tried again, this time slowing down. He let the mana flow naturally, only nudging it in the right direction. It still felt chaotic, but he could sense the potential there—the raw power waiting to be molded. Bit by bit, he drove it toward his dantian, letting the familiar process of filtering take over.

Just as he had done in his previous life, Sora began to focus the mana, refining it into sword energy. He visualized the path, tracing the steps he had taken before: guiding the energy from his dantian, into his limbs, and finally into his sword.

But the moment he tried to infuse the mana into his blade, the process unraveled. The chaotic mana slipped from his control, dissipating into the air before it could solidify into sword energy.

"Damn…" He cursed under his breath. "So close."

Despite the failure, Sora could feel it—he was on the right track. The problem was clear. Unlike before, where his mana had been tamed by the swordman class, now it was wild. There were too many variables, too much waste in the process. It was like trying to funnel a raging river through a small channel. He needed to refine the mana further, remove the impurities, and control the flow more precisely.

He grinned despite himself. This was exciting. Every failure wasn’t just a dead-end—it was showing him exactly where he was going wrong and how to fix it. He hadn’t been this engaged in a challenge for a long time. Each attempt brought him closer, teaching him more about his mana and how it worked without a class to guide it.

For hours, he kept at it, experimenting, adjusting, and refining the process. His body ached from the strain, but his mind was on fire. With each attempt, the chaos in the mana lessened, becoming more manageable, more refined. The key, he realized, wasn’t just in forcing the mana to obey—it was in evolving his approach. He needed to adapt to the mana, let it evolve alongside him.

Then, after what felt like a hundred failed attempts, something clicked.

Sora guided the mana to his dantian again, but this time, instead of forcing it to follow the exact path he had taken as a swordman, he allowed it to adapt. He let the mana shift slightly, finding its own flow, its own balance. It was subtle, but the difference was immediate. The chaotic energy stilled, becoming more focused, more potent.

He guided it through his limbs, just like before, and this time, when he reached for his sword, the mana followed, infusing the blade with a faint, shimmering glow. It wasn’t the full sword energy he had wielded as a swordman, but it was close—closer than ever before.

A notification blinked in his vision:

[Supreme Skill Unlocked: Mana Evolution]

Sora’s eyes widened. Mana Evolution? He had never heard of supreme skills before, but what he saw right now told him that it was completely insane. He kept reading the description over and over.

[Mana Evolution (Supreme Skill)]

[A unique skill created for a supreme genius who learned how to use mana without a class.

This skill evolves alongside the user’s comprehension and application of mana. With practice and adaptation, the user’s mana grows stronger, more efficient, and more versatile over time. Each breakthrough in understanding unlocks new effects, enhancing the user’s connection to mana and granting powerful new abilities.

Effect 1 : Mana Eyes: Allows the user to see mana at all scales, zooming in and out depending on the need.

Effect 2 : Loved by Mana: Mana will assist the user and minimize rebounds from misuse. Mana will always try to help the user if possible.

Effect 3 : Mana Growth: Every time mana is used, it becomes more refined, efficient, and powerful.

Effect 4 : Mana Customization: The user can guide how their mana evolves. Progress depends on the user’s talent and comprehension.

WARNING : Supreme Skills can not be affected by anything lower than Supreme level skills, including Innate skills, special skills or Racial Skills.]

Sora read the description again, a slow grin spreading across his face. He laughed at the supreme genius accolade, thinking he was just misunderstood but saw through the skill.

This was it. This was the key to unlocking his potential. Mana Evolution wasn’t just about controlling mana—it was about improving it, letting it grow alongside him. He could shape his mana into whatever form he needed, and the more he practiced, the stronger it would become. It was the perfect skill for someone like him, who wanted to experiment with different paths, who wasn’t tied down to a single class.

He could still feel the chaotic energy within him, but now it didn’t seem so overwhelming. With Mana Evolution, he would learn to tame it, to harness it. And eventually, he would surpass even his former self as a swordman.

Sora stood up, feeling the mana settle within him. The sword in his hand still glowed faintly with the energy he had infused into it.

"I did it," he muttered, a sense of triumph washing over him. This was just the beginning. With Mana Evolution, he wasn’t limited to one path. He could become whatever he wanted—mage, warrior, or something entirely new.

As he sheathed his sword, Sora’s thoughts raced ahead. He had a long way to go, but now, for the first time since his reset, he felt like he was truly in control.

Another notification brought him out of his reverie.

[Fake Sword Strike (Evolvable)]

[Type: Offensive

Class Requirement: None

Description: A classless imitation of the standard Sword Strike ability. The Fake Sword Strike is a powerful blow delivered to the enemy, with the sword imbued with Mana instead of Sword Energy. Compared to its class-based counterpart, this skill is 20% weaker.

Evolution: As the user’s mana improves, the skill can be upgraded or evolve.]

The description was straightforward. It mimicked the basic Sword Strike skill he had used countless times as a swordsman. However, there was a key difference—this version didn’t require a class. While it was 20% weaker than the original skill, the potential it held made Sora’s heart race.

Sora couldn’t help but grin. The possibilities were endless. The skill was weaker for now, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t bound by the limitations of a class, and more importantly, it had room to grow. As his mastery of mana improved through Mana Evolution, so would the Fake Sword Strike. In time, he might be able to create versions of class-based skills that were stronger than the originals.

The thought filled him with a renewed sense of purpose. He imagined the potential of imitating not just basic skills, but advanced techniques—ones that could outshine anything a class-restricted player could achieve. Maybe he could even create a whole set of skills that outclassed everything from his former swordman days.

"This is just the beginning," Sora muttered, gripping the hilt of his sword. He could feel the mana swirling inside him, more refined than before, more obedient. His path forward was clearer now. He didn’t need a class to define him; he could define himself by evolving his skills beyond what anyone thought possible.