SSS Class Infinite Regression: Ascension of the Mad Dragon Prince-Chapter 175: The Farmer’s Son [2] — Talentless

"Nothing…" the chief sighed. "I'm sorry, Timothy. You possess no potential for awakening. It would be safer for you to remain in the village. Leaving would be too dangerous."

"…" Timothy's mouth fell open as he stared at the crystal. "W-Wait…! Can't I touch it again?! Maybe there was a mistake…"

"Ah, well… if you want to, go ahead," the chief nodded, pity in his eyes.

Timothy began touching the stone again—caressing it, even whispering to it as though it could hear him—begging for anything at all.

"Please… please let me have something! I'll take an H-Rank Dirt Affinity! Mud Affinity… A-Ah…! A Nothing Affinity? Even that…! But give me something, please!"

As he pleaded, his parents watched in embarrassment. His father facepalmed. His mother looked away in shame. Alicia tilted her head, confused why her brother was making such a scene in front of the entire village.

"Timothy, that's enough," Elder Tirandel said gently, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Please don't be rough with the Divine Stone. Listen, son—it's not uncommon for ordinary folk like you to have no affinity at all. Humans in this world were originally magicless. Only after Fantasium arrived did some experience mutations and gain the power of awakening. Others were fortunate enough to be born as descendants of pioneers from Yggdrasil or other Fantasy Worlds… but that's not you. And it's completely fine. There's nothing wrong with it. You can still live a good life here. You have a family that loves you, a home, a farm, and one day you'll inherit land of your own. Who knows? You could start a business selling Spirit Herbs. Many people aren't lucky enough to even have a family."

"A-Ah…" Timothy muttered, unable to respond. Sometimes he remembered the poor beggars who wandered into town asking for food or coins. "Oh… Okay…"

He sighed, lowered his head, and walked back to his family. As he passed, he heard whispers—judging eyes following every step.

"Why did he make such a scene?"

"Elder Tirandel is so kind, consoling that failure of a boy…"

"No affinity at all? Then how does he expect to grow Spirit Herbs and magic plants?"

"I guess his family gained some dead weight. How pitiful."

"Hahahaha! Well, looks like you really had nothing at all!" Jonathan laughed from a distance. "Go back home, loser!"

Timothy clenched his teeth in fury, fists tight as he glared at Jonathan's sneering face. The boy was taller, stronger, blonde, handsome—and he loved punching down.

But Timothy had had enough. He had literally nothing left to lose.

"Why don't you shut the fuck up, Jonathan?! You make me fucking sick! You think I'm stupid?! You think I'll just lower my head and take it forever?!"

He rushed forward. Jonathan smiled mockingly. "And what are you gonna do about it?!"

"This!" Timothy roared, slamming his fist into Jonathan's face with all his strength.

BAAM!

It was a powerful punch—stronger than an average human's. Timothy had a great physique, but…

"Aaaaagh!"

It hurt like hell!

It felt as though he had struck solid stone.

His hand bruised badly; he was lucky the bones didn't break.

"Hahahaha! Are you for real?! I have a Resilient Body Ability! You think your punch is gonna do anything to me, shrimp?!"

Jonathan laughed and drove a fist into Timothy's stomach, dropping him to the ground.

"Ouugh…"

"Timothy!"

"T-That's enough!"

His family rushed to his aid after watching the scene unfold in shame. His father stepped protectively in front of him, only to face Jonathan's father: an even taller, stronger man. Not a farmer, but a respected Hunter of wild beasts.

"What's wrong, Alec? Next time watch your kid! You're lucky my son is merciful. If he wanted, your useless baggage of a son wouldn't be in this world anymore." The hunter spat on the ground and left with his family.

"Are you okay, son?" Timothy's mother began healing the pain away as her Tree Spirit manifested beside her.

"I'm fine!" Timothy snapped angrily. "Ugh…"

"Timothy, don't speak to your mother like that," his father said. "Look what you've done. Now the whole village thinks we're fools! Why did you even attack that boy? He's the Hunter's son!"

"B-Because…! He keeps bullying me and I was tired of it!" Timothy shouted. "Why didn't you say anything to him?!"

"…" His father fell silent for a moment, then sighed. "Listen, son… sometimes you just have to learn to lower your head, okay? You were born in this nice place. You never saw the true horror of the outside world… You don't understand how precious it is to just… lay low."

"What?!" Timothy stood up, furious. "That's just being a coward…"

His father sighed again, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "You'll understand one day, Timothy. Let's go home. You've made enough of a scene."

"…"

Timothy wanted to scream, to fight, to run away—but he knew it was all pointless.

In this world there were those who were talented, and those who were not.

It was as simple as that.

His little sister tried to cheer him up on the walk home, showing him her teddy bear.

"Big bro, let's play? Let's play together…!"

"Not now, Alicia…"

"Um… okay…"

Timothy remained silent the entire way. Once home, he shut himself in his room, skipped lunch, and even dinner. He lay on his bed, depressed, realizing he would never leave this house, this bed. Everything would stay exactly the same until the day he died.

His parents—who had endured unimaginable hardships in the outside world—saw this normalcy and repetition as a blessing. But their son, born into it, could only feel bored—always yearning for something more.

At nine, after the sun had set and stars blanketed the sky, someone knocked at his door.

"Dear? It's Mom. I brought your dinner. I made your favorite, but you never came down… It's rabbit stew. I even baked fresh bread for you…"

"…"

"Can I come in?"

After a moment of silence, his mother slowly opened the door. She found Timothy sitting on his bed, staring blankly at the floor.

"Timothy, son…"

She walked over and set the hot platter of stew on the bed.

"I know you're sad, but it's not the end of the world… There's so much more you can become. You could try being an architect, or a crafter, or a blacksmith? You don't need magic for those things—just wits and hard work."

"…I don't want to be any of that." 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

"Aw, come on now… You have to be realistic, son. Life isn't always what we want… You know? I lost my parents when the Apocalypse came. I used to have such a blissful life too, but I never realized how good I had it until I lost everything. Going to school every day, coming home to watch videos on my phone… I was so bored and tired of it all, but I was living a really good life without appreciating it."

"…"

"The monsters appeared everywhere. Cities fell into chaos… I lost my home, my grandparents, my brother… everything," she sighed. "It took me years to finally reach this place. Since then I've done my best to survive, to build a little home where we could regain some of that normalcy—even just a little, you know?"

"…I know. You and Dad always tell me about your past…"