SSS Awakening: I Can Create Skills By Will-Chapter 55: Terms of the Morning

The light of dawn leaked through the narrow windows and fell straight onto Arthur’s eyes.

He woke with a sharp intake of breath and sat up in one smooth motion, his hand already halfway raised before he realized there was no threat. The room was quiet. Too quiet. Just the faint hum of the guild building waking up around him and the distant sounds of footsteps and voices drifting in from outside.

He exhaled slowly and rubbed his face.

"It’s already dawn," he muttered.

His body ached as he stretched, muscles pulling tight and then loosening as the tension of the previous day bled away. Every bone reminded him of how hard he had pushed himself, and instead of irritation, it brought a small smile to his lips.

He let mana flow.

Not forcefully, not recklessly. Just enough to feel it respond.

The sensation was familiar now, yet still new enough to thrill him. Mana coursed through him in a controlled loop as he checked the structure of the skill he had formed the day before. The excitement hadn’t faded. If anything, it sat deeper now, steadier and more dangerous.

"It’s really mine," he whispered, half to himself.

A skill born from intent. From pressure. From choice.

That kind of power didn’t come cheap, and Arthur knew better than anyone that things earned under strain were the hardest to take away.

The smile lingered for a second longer before he wiped it away and swung his legs off the bed. There was no time to bask. The guild didn’t wait for anyone, and neither did opportunity.

He washed quickly, the cold water clearing the last remnants of sleep from his head, then dressed and checked his gear with practiced efficiency. Nothing fancy. Nothing excessive. Just what he needed.

As he stepped out, the Explorers Guild was already alive.

The wide halls buzzed with activity, voices overlapping in a familiar rhythm. Teams argued over routes, clerks shouted numbers, and the smell of metal, sweat, and cheap food mixed into something uniquely guild-like. It was chaotic, loud, and honest in a way Arthur appreciated.

He adjusted his pace and moved with purpose.

He didn’t know what missions would be issued today. He was still getting used to the system, to how the guild decided who went where and why. But he didn’t mind. Even if nothing worthwhile came up, spending another day in the training hall wouldn’t bother him.

The thought alone made his pulse quicken.

He liked getting stronger. Not just power for the sake of it, but the kind of strength that demanded discipline and punished mistakes. The kind that carved its way upward until nothing stood above it.

He had lived that life once already.

Soon, the missions hall came into view, its tall boards already crowded with people scanning parchment sheets and arguing over numbers. Arthur picked out a familiar figure almost immediately.

Ryn.

The squad captain stood near the center, arms crossed as he listened to two explorers talk over each other. His expression was patient, but only just. Arthur walked over, and Ryn noticed him halfway through a sentence.

"Morning," Arthur said.

Ryn snorted. "You look too awake for someone who nearly killed himself yesterday."

Arthur shrugged, little things did get around quickly over here, but he didn’t mind as he replied. "Didn’t work, did it?"

That earned him a short laugh, and the tension around Ryn eased slightly.

"Good," Ryn said. "You’re just in time."

He didn’t waste words. That was something Arthur respected.

"There’s an easy mission out," Ryn continued, lowering his voice as he gestured for the rest of the group to draw closer. "Issued by the commanders for new awakeners. Nothing fancy. They don’t want people sitting idle and getting stupid ideas."

One of the squad members approached with a folded sheet, handing it to Ryn as if this had all been arranged beforehand. Ryn took it, unfolded it, and skimmed the contents before reading aloud.

"E-rank Goblin dungeon. Already cleared yesterday. Objective is reclamation. Any leftover loot, materials, or missed cores are fair game. Payment is twenty percent of whatever each individual retrieves."

There was a murmur through the group.

Arthur listened quietly.

It made sense. After a dungeon clear, especially a rushed one, things were always left behind. Broken monster parts, half-harvested materials, even intact loot that no one had time to carry. Sending lower-ranked explorers in afterward was efficient and cheap.

Low risk. Low reward. Mostly.

Arthur understood the aim immediately.

It was easy work. The dungeon had been cleared recently, so any respawned monsters would be few and weak. Dangerous only if someone got careless. For most, it was just a way to earn a little extra and get familiar with dungeon conditions again.

His only regret was storage.

He wasn’t the only one thinking it. He saw it on a few faces, heard it in the way people clicked their tongues quietly. Without a proper storage device, whatever you couldn’t carry by hand was lost.

Arthur felt the same frustration, but he didn’t let it show.

Lack of yen wasn’t a reason to stall. It was a problem to be solved.

And problems, to Arthur, were just negotiations that hadn’t started yet.

"I’ll take it," someone said nearby.

Others nodded. One or two hesitated but didn’t back out.

Ryn folded the paper and tucked it away. "Departure in one hour. Get ready."

Arthur paused.

An hour.

He glanced toward the row of shops lining the outer corridor of the guild. One storefront stood out in his mind immediately. He had noticed it before. Storage devices. Small ones, mid-range ones, and a few high-tier pieces locked behind glass.

He exhaled through his nose.

If he went in like everyone else, he’d leave empty-handed.

So he wouldn’t.

As he walked, his mind worked.

He didn’t have the funds, not even close. But he had something else. Confidence. Timing. And the ability to read people. Skills he had sharpened long before he knew mana existed.

Back in his past life, he had survived on deals far more insane than this. As an idea came to mind.