My Angel Can't Level Up

The sun cast its golden glow over the Aldak estate, illuminating the sprawling grounds with a warmth befitting the occasion. The Aldak family held the title of Count, a noble house renowned for refining some of the best mages. Though they were not among the highest-ranking nobility, their reputation and contributions to the magical world granted them considerable respect. The estate itself was grand, a testament to their success and lineage.

Inside the grand hall, decorated with elegant banners and fine tableware, the air buzzed with excitement. Today was a special day—Ryven's sixteenth birthday. It was a milestone in any noble household, and the celebration reflected that, with other nobles in attendance. However, for Ryven, it held an even deeper significance. It marked his first step toward adulthood, a moment that would be forever etched into his memory. More importantly, it signified the end of his father's relentless magic training. At long last, he could leave behind the exhausting drills and spellcraft sessions and embrace the peaceful life he longed for at the academy.

Rial stood near the grand fireplace, his regal, dark-blue robe adorned with silver embroidery reflecting the flickering light. His piercing blue eyes regarded the scene before him with a mixture of pride and formality, though his usual stern demeanor softened ever so slightly.

Lilia, ever the gentle presence, had taken great care to ensure everything was perfect. Dressed in a flowing white and gold gown, she moved gracefully through the hall, making small adjustments to the table settings while exchanging warm words with the nobles and guests. Though it was not the grandest of noble gatherings, it was still a respectable event, reflecting the standing of the Aldak family.

Ryven himself stood near the center, clad in a finely tailored black and silver tunic that highlighted his lean yet athletic build. He wasn't one for grand ceremonies, but even he had to admit that the warmth of his family made the occasion bearable, even enjoyable.

"Happy birthday, big brother!" Rin's bright voice rang out as she rushed toward him, her violet eyes gleaming with excitement. She held out a small box wrapped in silk. "Here! I picked this myself!"

Ryven arched an eyebrow, accepting the gift with an amused smile. He carefully untied the ribbon and opened the box to reveal a finely crafted pendant, embedded with a small but brilliant violet gem.

"It's a mana stone," Rin explained, bouncing slightly on her feet. "It'll help amplify your spells, even just a little. I thought it'd suit you!"

A rare warmth spread in Ryven's chest. "Thanks, Rin," he said, ruffling her hair, much to her protest. "I'll treasure it."

Lilia soon approached, presenting her own gift—a beautifully bound book of ancient magical theories. "I know you prefer practical magic over theory," she said with a soft smile, "but knowledge is a weapon, too. Consider this another tool for your future."

Ryven accepted it with gratitude, already flipping through the pages with interest. "It's perfect, Mother. Thank you."

Finally, Rial stepped forward. He carried a small, ornately carved wooden box. The weight of his gaze settled on Ryven as he handed it over. "This," he said, his voice steady, "is a relic of our family. It has been passed down through generations."

Ryven carefully opened the box to reveal a dagger with an intricate silver hilt, embedded with runes that shimmered faintly in the candlelight. He traced his fingers over the markings, feeling a subtle pulse of magic beneath his touch.

"A noble must always be prepared," Rial said. "Even a court mage must be ready to protect what is his. Carry this with you, and remember your duty."

There was an unspoken weight in his words, and Ryven understood the deeper meaning behind them. He nodded, closing the box with quiet reverence. "I will, Father."

The rest of the evening passed in warmth and laughter, a rare moment of peace amidst the expectations that loomed ahead.

Yet, as the night drew on, a new chapter of his life awaited. Tomorrow, they would head to the cathedral for his binding ceremony—a ritual that would determine the angel bound to his soul. Not that he particularly cared. To Ryven, it sounded like more of a hassle than anything else. But that was a concern for another day. For now, he allowed himself to enjoy the present, surrounded by those who mattered most.

The morning sun filtered through the grand windows of the Aldak estate, signaling the day of the Binding Ceremony. Despite the significance of the event, Ryven felt nothing but relief. This marked the true end of his father's relentless training. He had the firepower of a grand mage, yet his spellcasting time remained painfully slow—akin to a child first learning magic. But today, none of that mattered. After this, he could finally enjoy the peaceful life he wanted at the academy.

"You should be more excited, Ryven," Lilia said gently as they prepared to leave. "The Binding Ceremony is a once-in-a-lifetime event."

"I know, Mother," Ryven replied, adjusting his formal coat. "I just don't see why I need an angel bound to me. It sounds like more of a hassle than anything."

Rial shot him a sharp look. "An angel is more than just a companion. They are tied to your fate, your strength, and your very soul. Take this seriously."

Ryven sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. His father had always been strict about magical traditions, and this was no different.

The city of Lirea was bustling as they made their way to the cathedral. Nobles and commoners alike whispered in awe as the Aldak family passed. The Binding Ceremony was a sacred event in Rivedia, marking the moment when a person's soul was linked to an angel. The type of angel one received was determined by their soul, divided into four ranks: Celestial, Ascended, Prime, and Lesser. The stronger the soul, the higher the rank of the angel.

As they entered the grand cathedral, Ryven took in the towering stained glass windows depicting legendary heroes and their angels. At the center of the chamber stood the summoning circle, glowing faintly with divine energy. Other nobles stood nearby, their sons and daughters awaiting their turn.

"Remember, once the bond is formed, your fates become intertwined," Rial reminded him. "If your angel dies, the bond shatters. But if the bond breaks for another reason, the angel merely returns to the Heavenly Realm to await another soul."

Ryven barely paid attention. He just wanted this to be over with.

The ceremony began, and one by one, the young nobles stepped forward, summoning their angels. Some were blessed with Ascended, a few even with Prime. Then, it was Ryven's turn.

He stepped onto the summoning circle, holding out his hand as instructed. The priest began chanting, and the air crackled with divine energy. A pillar of radiant light erupted from the circle, far brighter than any before it. Gasps filled the cathedral as the sheer intensity of the glow made it difficult to see.

Then, from within the light, a figure emerged. A girl with flowing silver hair and luminous violet eyes descended gracefully, her form ethereal yet solid. For a moment, Ryven found himself captivated, his breath hitching as she reached out. Her soft hand met his palm, their connection sealing in an instant.

"I am Lyria," she said, her voice like a soft melody. "And I am bound to you."

Murmurs spread through the crowd. A bond of immaculate compatibility. The brilliance of the light signified a connection beyond ordinary means. But when the priest examined her stats, the whispers turned to stunned silence.

Her stats were the weakest ever recorded.

Ryven blinked, waiting for the priest to continue, but there was nothing more. The only ability listed was "Arcane Ascendancy"—a skill that merely increased experience gain and reduced spellcasting time.

Lyria bit her lip, lowering her gaze. She had seen the looks of disappointment before, and she braced herself for another. She had no means of leveling up, no combat ability, nothing worthy of a noble family's heir. But just as her heart sank, she heard something unexpected.

Ryven chuckled.

"I finally don't have to deal with long casting times anymore," he muttered, a small but genuine smile appearing on his face.

Lyria's eyes widened slightly. She had expected frustration, disdain, anything but this. Seeing his smile, a bit of the weight in her chest lifted, though uncertainty still lingered in her violet eyes.

As Ryven stood content, Lyria could only watch, unsure of what the future would hold.