RAGNA POV...
In my eyes, every single member of my family was worth more than any amount of money this world could offer—every one of them were precious beyond measure, irreplaceable beyond reason—except that bastard Gustav, of course, who didn’t even deserve a passing thought.
I loved them deeply, to the very point I thought it was on border of obsession, and I cared for them with everything I had and everything I was becoming.
I wasn’t willing to let anyone or anything take them away from me, not the hateful villagers who whispered behind our backs, not sickness that gnawed at my sister’s fragile body, not even this cruel world itself if it dared to reach out its filthy hands toward the people I loved.
The thought of how little they were able to enjoy life because of me clawed at my chest every night, a quiet but relentless agony, and it was that pain that pushed me to act.
Oge deserved more than sitting still and watching the world pass her by, and more than smiling bravely while everyone else moved forward, and so I chose to support Father’s idea—no, fund it—to buy something like a wheelchair for her.
Still, when I finally saw what this world proudly called a "wheel crutch," I couldn’t help but feel unimpressed.
It was nothing special at all.
A crude structure made from piled metal scraps and wooden planks, hastily assembled into the shape of a chair, with two backward handles for pushing, four stiff legs ending in circular wheels that evenly distributed the weight, and a pair of simple locks meant to prevent it from rolling away.
Functional, sure—but to me, someone who had seen what true a wheelchair was, it looked painfully mundane.
And yet...
To my family, it was magic.
To Oge especially, it was overwhelming.
The moment it was presented to her, her eyes widened, her breath hitched, and tears welled up as she reached out with trembling hands, immediately falling in love with the gift as if it were the greatest treasure in the world. That four-legged wheelchair quickly became our family’s national treasure, guarded by emotion and gratitude rather than steel.
Father, on the other hand, looked like his heart had been squeezed in a vice.
John was still drowning in quiet depression over the fact that we had spent five silver coins on what he saw as nothing more than metal and wood. He had wanted to volunteer to build it himself, but he knew his limits—blacksmithing wasn’t his strength—and that knowledge hurt him more than the cost ever could.
Only Elina stayed by his side, silently comforting him while he stared at the chair with conflicted eyes.
"It’s amazing," he said at last, voice strained. "But... the money?"
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
I had only wanted to make my sister happy. I hadn’t even considered how heavy that expense would feel to him, even if he appreciated it. Still, seeing Oge smile like that made everything worth it.
With the money I earned, Oge’s treatment slowly progressed, step by painstaking step.
’If I can achieve for her body what mine was granted, I thought, without turning her into a complete cursed chilf... then I can fix her, Permanently.’
If that happened, she wouldn’t need treatment anymore.
In what felt like the blink of an eye, winter loomed once more, and my fifth birthday was rapidly approaching. I pushed myself harder than ever, determined to earn as much as I could before the weather turned vicious. I didn’t know how brutal the coming season would be, and even if I could survive it with the system’s help, I wasn’t confident Oge could.
So I had to hurry.
Over the past year, I had ventured deeper and deeper into the woods as my power grew, learning firsthand how overwhelming heightened senses could be—every sound like a roaring loudspeaker if I focused too much, every scent thick enough to choke me if I wasn’t careful. Eventually, I began practicing one of my skills: Dash.
It was a movement technique that infused five mana points into my legs, granting a sudden burst of speed for roughly ten seconds. Simple in theory. Nightmarish in execution.
My childlike body struggled to keep up with the force it generated, and even the slightest miscalculation could send me flying straight into a tree.
That day, I was trying to get used to it.
Loud bangs echoed through certain areas of the forest, shaking the ground at first before gradually fading into uneasy silence.
Damn this skill, I cursed inwardly as I felt my mana drop to half.
Every time I activated Dash, I tried to do more than just let it run wild—I tried to manipulate it—but the moment my concentration shifted to my next step, my control over mana would crumble.
Bang.
I was running at full speed when my body slammed into another tree before I could adjust my direction.
Stars burst across my vision as I stumbled back, a swelling bump forming on my forehead, dizziness washing over me until I steadied myself and used cursed Meditation to restore my mana.
Most animals had already fled the area, terrified by the noise, so at least I didn’t have to worry about that.
Still, frustration gnawed at me.
Why couldn’t I get it right?
Then I froze.
The realization hit me like lightning.
Instead of forcing my focus on footwork and mana flow separately... why not command the mana itself to move according to my will?
My eyes tinged red as I leaned forward, right leg arched ahead, left leg braced behind, body coiled like a spring.
For a moment, it felt as though the wind itself had passed by.
Silence engulfed everything.
I felt impossibly light, like I had become part of the air, a gust slicing through the forest. Falling leaves drifted so slowly it was as if the world had paused just for me.
I shifted at the last second, narrowly avoiding another collision.
I looked down at my legs.
A smile crept onto my lips.
In the days that followed, I began revealing small traces of my power, though my family still hadn’t noticed anything unusual. I continued theorizing, searching desperately for a way to heal my sister completely—until every path led me back to the same terrifying conclusion.
Cursing my sister.
The only solution left.