My Bugged System Made Me Too OP!-Chapter 20: I’ll reach the peak

He slowly lifted his right hand.

Without overthinking it, he channeled a thin stream of mana toward his palm, guiding it gently through the ice affinity orb before releasing it outward.

The response was immediate.

A short, thin icicle rapidly materialized above his palm.

It formed cleanly, without flicker or instability. The structure was clear and solid, translucent with a faint bluish sheen.

Cold air spread lightly around his hand as the icicle stabilized in place.

He narrowed his eyes slightly as he examined it.

The tip tapered to a sharp, narrow point.

It was very sharp, even sharper than the tip of a needle.

The kind that could pierce flesh effortlessly if launched with enough force.

He rotated his wrist slowly, and the icicle followed his intent without lag, hovering obediently above his palm.

Unlike what one would expect, the skill actually consumed very little of his mana, to the point it was almost negligible.

He couldn’t help but feel satisfied with this development.

Noah chuckled softly under his breath.

"Icicle..." he muttered.

He stared at it for a few more seconds, studying it like it was the finest artwork in the world, and to him, that was exactly what it was right now.

Then, with a simple thought, he stopped the skill activation.

The icicle trembled faintly.

Its solid form began to blur at the edges.

Cold mist swirled above his palm as the structure broke apart, dissolving from the tip downward. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

The sharp point softened first, melting into drifting particles of frost. The body of the icicle followed, thinning into translucent vapor.

Within seconds, it vanished completely.

Only a faint chill remained in the air.

Noah flexed his fingers slowly.

’I don’t even need a chant... all I have to do is activate the skill.’

At the academy, apprentices were taught basic chants to stabilize their spells.

Even simple constructs required whispered incantations to guide the mana into proper form. Without them, most students struggled with control.

But he had not uttered anything beyond the skill’s name.

The activation had been instantaneous, and effortless.

A wide smile spread across his face.

It was not subtle in anyway, but seemed more like one that came from years of frustration finally being overturned.

He clenched his fists tightly, feeling the dense mana pulse beneath his skin.

"Supreme Magus System..." he muttered under his breath, the words carrying quiet intensity. "The Supreme Magus rank... I’ll surely reach it."

His eyes burned with determination.

The golden current within him seemed to respond to his resolve, flowing with stronger rhythm.

"When I do..." he continued softly, his voice firm, "I’ll stand at the peak of the world. No one will be able to look down on me anymore."

The memory of countless dismissive glances surfaced in his mind.

The whispers.

The ridicule.

The disgust in instructors’ eyes.

All of it.

There hadn’t been a Supreme Magus in nearly two hundred years.

The academy archives recorded the last one as a figure of mythic power, someone whose existence alone reshaped territories. Since then, the world had stagnated beneath lesser ranks.

Two centuries without anyone reaching that height.

Most believed it was impossible now.

That the path had ended.

But Noah did not share that belief.

Not anymore.

He had the system.

It had already rewritten what should have been impossible for him.

It had brought him back from death.

It had pushed him through ranks in a single night that others struggled years to achieve.

Why would it stop at Adept?

Why would it stop at Master?

Why would it stop at anything less than Supreme?

He could almost see it.

Himself standing at the highest peak, wind sweeping past as the world lay beneath him.

The king and every other noble houses bowing before his strength.

Those who once mocked him staring upward in disbelief.

His smile widened further.

An unsettling glint flashed in his eyes.

A darker satisfaction curled at the edges of his thoughts.

Then—

"Hahaha!" He broke into a loud, sinister chuckle.

The sound filled the small room, sharp and unrestrained.

For a moment, he did not hold back.

But just as his laughter echoed off the walls—

A knock came from his door.

The sound cut cleanly through the air.

Noah’s laughter stopped abruptly.

The glint in his eyes faded as reality returned.

Another knock followed, slightly louder this time.

And he was pulled out of his moment completely.

"...Noah?"

His mother’s voice came softly from the other side of the door.

"Are you okay?"

The care in her tone immediately snapped him fully back to reality.

His face flushed instantly.

Heat rushed up his neck to his ears as he realized how loud and corny that laugh must have sounded.

In the quiet of the night, inside their modest home, there was no way she hadn’t heard it clearly.

He coughed once, then again.

He then cleared his throat, as if that could erase the awkwardness.

"Y-yes, mom!" he replied quickly, the stutter betraying him despite his attempt to sound normal. "I only, uhh... remembered something funny."

There was a brief silence from the other side.

His mother stood there, her brows knitting together slightly.

’Noah... what are you really hiding from me?’ she thought.

Her hand hovered over the doorknob.

For a moment, she considered opening it.

Just to check, and see what he was doing in the room that made him laugh like that.

But she stopped herself.

He was growing.

He deserved his privacy.

With a quiet sigh, she lowered her hand.

"Alright," she said gently. "Don’t stay up too late."

"I won’t!" he answered quickly.

Her footsteps retreated down the hallway.

Noah remained still for a few seconds, listening until the sound completely faded.

Then he let out a slow breath.

’That was close...’ he thought.

The earlier sinister edge in his expression had completely vanished.

He turned and walked toward his bed before allowing himself to fall backward onto it.

The old foam mattress creaked loudly beneath his weight, springs shifting awkwardly under the worn fabric.

The sound was uneven and strange, like it always was.

But he didn’t react.

He was already used to it.

That creaking had been part of his nights for years.

He stared at the ceiling for a few moments, and a slow smile formed on his lips.

Then, gradually, his eyes closed.

And he drifted into sleep.