《Oh No, I Killed the Villain》


 Chapter 1: The Leap of Fate

    **Chapter 1: The Leap of Fate**


    Hiroki Tanaka peered out of the plane''s open door, questioning the sanity of jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft. The deafening hum of the engines and the distant rush of wind against the metal frame added to the surreal moment. Beside him, co-workers cheered, their excitement disheartening. "Why on earth am I doing this?" Hiroki muttered, grappling with the idea of willingly leaping into the unknown. His boss''s son had just been promoted to vice president, marking this team-building skydiving trip as an unusual celebration. Nerves prickled at Hiroki''s skin. As the plane climbed higher, the reality of the impending jump loomed. Despite co-workers attempting to boost his morale with encouraging words, Hiroki''s mind remained locked in a battle between reason and adrenaline. Finally, the moment arrived. Five people had already taken the leap. Hiroki was about to be number six, with four team members behind him. Heart pounding, he leaped, and for a brief moment, the world blurred around him in the initial freefall that felt like an eternity. Hiroki Tanaka plummeted through the sky, counting the heart-stopping seconds before he had to pull the cord. Three¡­ two¡­ one. He yanked the parachute release cord, expecting the sudden jolt that would slow his descent. But nothing happened. Panic set in. The wind roared in his ears as Hiroki frantically tugged at the cord again, only to be met with a terrifying silence. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut ¨C the chute had failed. Just as despair gripped him, he noticed a co-worker who had just jumped frantically pointing to a secondary lever on his vest. It sparked a memory from their orientation ¨C a backup parachute. With a mix of relief and disbelief, Hiroki grasped for the secondary cord, desperately hoping it would save him from this unexpected fate. Without a moment''s hesitation, Hiroki pulled the secondary cord with all the strength he could muster. The emergency chute deployed, snapping open above him. Relief flooded through him as the sudden deceleration saved him from a perilous fate. Breathing heavily, Hiroki hung suspended in the air, grateful for the twist of fate that had spared him. Thoughts of how close he had come to death raced through his mind. "I can''t believe I almost bit the dust doing something this crazy," he muttered, a mix of disbelief and gratitude coursing through him. However, his sense of relief was short-lived. Over the rush of wind and the distant cheers of his co-workers, Hiroki heard a distinct tear. It sent a shiver down his spine.


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    **Chapter 1, Part 2: Cursing Fate**


    As Hiroki''s second parachute failed, the bitter irony of his plummeting descent hung in the air. In his final moments between the heavens and the earth, he couldn''t escape the realization that this day had been meticulously orchestrated for his demise. Two parachutes, a helpful co-worker¡ªall attempts to save him had crumbled, leaving him to confront the absurdity of his fate. In those fleeting seconds, facing the inevitability of his own mortality, Hiroki made a solemn vow. "If there''s a next life, fate, you''ll have a reckoning." But then, a sobering thought struck him. What power did a mere mortal like him hold against the gods of Fate? As the winds whispered tales of destiny around him, Hiroki discarded the notion of revenge. Instead, a defiant spirit sparked within him. What if he could challenge Fate itself? In his final prayer, he beseeched whoever or whatever defied Fate''s whims, pledging himself as a loyal servant, ready to undertake any task necessary to dismantle the very fabric of destiny. Hiroki couldn¡¯t help but let out a bitter chuckle. ¡®Skydiving sucks,¡¯ he thought to himself. He smiled wryly and closed his eyes. For an instant, Hiroki heard loud screams then his soul departed from this world.

 Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 1

    Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 1


    As Hiroki Tanaka''s consciousness clawed its way back from the abyss, he was engulfed by an unrelenting torrent of excruciating pain. It tore through Hiroki like a relentless tempest, each wave of agony crashing against his battered body with merciless force. He lay sprawled upon the unforgiving ground, eyes clenched shut, every muscle contorted in anguish.


    With each passing moment, Hiroki''s awareness slowly returned, bringing with it a grim realization: he was trapped in the midst of the final moments of his life. The pain persisted, relentless and unforgiving, as if mocking his feeble attempts to escape its grasp.


    In the silence of his agony, a haunting thought crept into Hiroki''s mind: "Why wasn''t he dead yet?" The only answer he could think of was that he was receiving medical assistance from the paramedics. They probably had brought him back from the edge of the void. But Hiroki knew their efforts only prolonged his suffering, delaying the sweet relief of death.


    Though he knew he should have been upset, Hiroki had already accepted the inevitability of his painful demise. He wouldn''t be leaving behind any significant attachments. There were no close friends, only coworkers. About a year before his family''s tragic accident, his college sweetheart abandoned him, drawn to someone she deemed more attractive and financially stable. It stung, but Hiroki "understood" her decision.


    After all, at the time, he had simply continued to work at his family''s noodle shop after college. Meanwhile, Rina''s new partner was a successful businessman. She had refused to attend his parents'' funerals, despite the fact that both of them had always liked her. After their deaths, Hiroki felt that he was not really living in the world around him. He was merely existing.


    Amidst searing pain and poignant thoughts, a flicker of hope ignited¡ªthe chance of reuniting with his parents in the afterlife. Despite the absurdity of his situation, this glimmer of solace emerged, offering a semblance of peace.


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    Suddenly, a vision flashed into Hiroki''s mind: first responders valiantly trying to resuscitate his parents'' lifeless bodies. The memory seared through his consciousness like a branding iron, leaving scars of pain and regret.


    Two years prior, the tragedy struck with merciless swiftness. As their small family returned home from a grueling day''s work at their bustling restaurant, the late-night drive turned into a nightmare as a horrific car accident unfolded, shattering their lives in an instant.


    As Hiroki lay there, memories flooded his senses, each detail etched into his mind with agonizing clarity. The piercing screech of tires, the shattering of glass, and the sickening crunch of twisted metal echoed in his ears. Adrenaline-fueled panic coursed through his veins as their car careened out of control. A sense of helplessness gripped him as his father''s desperate attempt to evade a stray dog ended in chaos. Amidst that turmoil, Hiroki found himself hurtling into darkness, narrowly escaping death''s embrace by mere inches.


    But it was the image of his parents'' faces, frozen in an eternal moment of terror, that preyed on Hiroki the most. The realization that he had been powerless to save them, that he had watched helplessly as they slipped away from him, tore at his soul.


    In the aftermath of the accident, Hiroki found himself constantly grappling with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger burned within him like a wildfire, fueled by the injustice of their untimely deaths. Fear wrapped its icy tendrils around him, whispering dark promises of an uncertain future without his parents by his side. And beneath it all lay a profound sense of loss. A deep ache settled in Hiroki''s chest, a gaping void he knew could never be filled.


    Despite his attempts to move on, Hiroki found it nearly impossible to enter his father''s noodle shop. The once-familiar surroundings only served as painful reminders of the life he had lost, each visit threatening to reopen his wounds.


    Seeing Hiroki''s struggle, his uncle took over the restaurant, allowing Hiroki to step away from the business that held so many painful memories. With the weight of responsibility lifted, Hiroki sought solace in an office job, away from the memories that stalked him at the noodle shop.


    A chilling realization crept over Hiroki as he struggled with the memories that had come to define his life in the last two years. It felt as though he had narrowly cheated death on the night of the accident, escaping its grasp by sheer chance. Hiroki couldn''t shake the feeling that fate, unyielding in its pursuit, had finally caught up with him. Maybe he had been only living on borrowed time. Hence, the ominous events of the skydiving incident happened because he was fated to pay back that debt with his life.


    Amidst the echoes of his deathbed contemplations, a sharp command cut through the haze, jolting Hiroki back to his present situation.


    "Get up!"


    Confusion clouded Hiroki''s mind as he struggled to comprehend the demand. "Why would a paramedic tell me to stand?" he pondered, still a little groggy and disoriented. The absurd request weighed heavily on him, especially as he was immersed in physical torment.


    "Leave me be," Hiroki muttered weakly, his voice barely audible. "Let me confront my fate in peace."

 Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 2

    Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 2


    Acknowledging the voice, Hiroki felt a subtle shift deep within him. Gradually, the oppressive veil of torment lifted, freeing him from its suffocating grip. With each passing moment, he felt a renewed sense of control over his body, as though his response to the voice had spurred a cascade of changes within him. Paralyzed muscles twitched back to life, and dulled senses sharpened with renewed clarity. Hiroki''s body eagerly embraced the resurgence of mobility and strength, each breath carrying with it a burgeoning sense of vitality and resilience. Though uncertainty still lingered in the air, he found solace in the gradual return of control, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos that surrounded him.


    The voice persisted, its tone tinged with annoyance. "You will be fine. My wind spell wasn''t that powerful."


    Despite Hiroki''s senses sharpening and the pain receding, his bewilderment only deepened. Why was the voice speaking of wind and... spells? It felt like a surreal intrusion into his tumultuous reality, akin to a discordant note amid a turbulent symphony.


    For a fleeting moment, the vivid sensation of wind rushing past him during his recent ordeal flashed through his mind. Grimacing at the memory, he added wind to his list of despised adversaries, alongside airplanes, heights, and especially parachutes.


    In stark contrast, the word "spell" evoked a sense of wonder and nostalgia. It transported him back to the countless hours immersed in fantasy novels, where magic was as real as the air he breathed. The worlds and characters within those pages had become his only solace in a life filled with solitude and loss.


    Perplexed yet slightly intrigued by the unfamiliar voice''s cryptic words, Hiroki decided he had to see who exactly had spoken, unsure of what awaited him.


    With his hands beginning to tremble, Hiroki reluctantly opened his eyes, his vision obscured by a blinding brightness surrounding him. The intense glare disoriented him, blurring everything in his vision except for a single figure.


    A slight gasp escaped Hiroki''s lips involuntarily.


    Amidst the overwhelming light, he found himself on the ground, looking up at a surprisingly familiar silhouette. As Hiroki''s vision continued to adjust to the luminous haze, his gaze fixated on the profile of a... villain. Looming over him was the imposing form of Victor Thornwood.


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    He commanded attention with his striking appearance: flowing locks of blonde hair framing his face while piercing blue eyes held a mysterious allure. Draped in medieval-inspired dueling attire, the man exuded an air of aristocracy, his regal cloak billowing dramatically around him.


    The resemblance to Victor Thornwood, depicted on the cover of *Ascension*, a novel Hiroki had coincidentally finished reading the night before, was unmistakable. Despite giving it a critical one-star rating for its clich¨¦d hero and flawed magical system, he couldn''t deny the allure of some of its characters.


    But this was impossible, wasn''t it? Characters from books didn''t just step out into the real world.


    Hiroki''s mind swirled with confusion as he grappled to make sense of the surreal encounter. His brain raced, seeking a rational explanation amidst his chaotic thoughts. Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? Or were the paramedics cosplaying?


    In a sudden epiphany, realization struck Hiroki like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the murky depths of his mind. Could this enigmatic figure be a guiding spirit ushering him into the afterlife? The entity mentioned using a spell, implying the existence of magic. A mystical spirit would have magical abilities. The fact that magic existed in this reality would prove that he was no longer a part of the mortal realm in which he was born. The soul-shattering pain that he had felt must have been the result of his death. The fact that the pain was now receding indicated he had crossed the threshold into the afterlife.


    A mix of awe and disbelief flooded Hiroki''s mind as he pieced together his theory. He was impressed with himself for coming up with this possibility. In hindsight, he could almost convince himself that the process of dying wasn''t all that bad. As Hiroki considered the implications of his theory, a sense of wonder and anticipation washed over him. It struck him how rapidly his mind had adapted to the idea of crossing into the afterlife.


    However, why had the spirit forsaken the comforting appearance of his deceased parents, instead manifesting as a character from a novel he scarcely admired? And why embody the villain from *Ascension*, a symbol of malice? Also, did this existence imply that it had just assaulted him by using a "wind spell"? Hiroki was certain that a benevolent guiding spirit wouldn''t randomly attack the recently deceased. If he was in a situation where someone or something was determined to torture him using magic throughout his afterlife, he might be in a little more trouble than skydiving without a parachute. The first step he had to take was to verify the presence of magic. At the moment, there was only one place he could learn the truth from.


    Confronting the being before him, fear tinged Hiroki''s voice as he asked, his curiosity shining through the trembling words: "Did you just attack me with... magic?"

 Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 3

    Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 3


    In Victor Thornwood''s scoff, Hiroki discerned unmistakable disdain, evident in the coolness of his tone. ''That wasn''t the plan. You were supposed to cast a fireball, and I was supposed to block it with my wind-breath spell,'' he explained, heightening Hiroki''s intrigue.


    ''A fireball?'' Hiroki mused aloud as he sat up, taking in his surroundings. Initially disoriented by the intense illumination, he gradually acclimated to the brilliance, allowing shapes and contours to emerge from the haze.


    He found himself within a sprawling complex.


    Before him stretched what appeared to be an auditorium, its grandeur evident in the towering arches and intricate columns that adorned the space. Rows of polished wooden benches lined the room, arranged in neat symmetrical patterns, their surfaces gleaming under the radiant glow of the lights. The air hummed with anticipation, carrying the faint echo of distant voices and the shuffling of feet.


    Hiroki couldn''t help but be amazed by the intricate details of the architecture as he took in his surroundings. Elaborate tapestries hung from the walls, their vibrant colours and intricate designs seeming to come alive before his eyes. Scenes of mythical creatures engaged in epic battles unfolded before him, each thread weaving a tale of ancient legends and forgotten heroes.


    Hiroki''s attention was captured by the lavish columns that lined the space. Carvings adorned their surfaces, depicting scenes of valour and triumph, each one a testament to the opulence of the auditorium''s design.


    Above him, the chandeliers cast a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow, their crystals glittering like stars in the night sky.


    In the magnificence of the auditorium, Hiroki felt like a speck of dust caught in a sunbeam¡ªsmall, insignificant, and utterly lost amidst the splendour. The overwhelming beauty of the scene contrasted sharply with his sense of bewilderment, leaving him feeling dwarfed by the magnitude of it all.


    As Hiroki''s eyes continued to roam, a sense of familiarity washed over him. It was as if he had stepped into a scene from a distant memory¡ªa memory tinged with echoes of a world he had only recently explored through the pages of a book.


    Hiroki''s fingers tightened into fists, his knuckles white as he surveyed the ornate architecture. The truth dawned on him like a shadow creeping across his mind. Hiroki''s heart thundered in his chest, each beat echoing the rapid pace of his thoughts. Fear and disbelief intertwined, forming a knot of uncertainty that tightened with every passing moment.


    The auditorium bore a striking resemblance to the dueling arenas described in *Ascension*, the novel, from which the villain Victor Thornwood hailed. The realization washed over Hiroki in an icy wave, leaving a mixture of disorientation and disbelief that seeped into the core of his existence.


    Hiroki''s mind reeled with the enormity of the situation. ''How could this be happening?'' he exclaimed inside his head, the words echoing with frantic urgency within the confines of his mind.


    Initially, Hiroki had entertained the notion of being in a spiritual dimension, on the cusp of receiving guidance from a divine being suffused with luminous light¡ªa scenario that would have aligned with his "guiding spirit" theory developed when he first met Victor Thornwood. However, Hiroki''s hypothesis crumbled as he gained a clearer view of his surroundings.


    A new, unsettling notion began to take root¡ªthe realization that he was seated in a setting straight out of the pages of a book, facing a character described within its narrative. A frightening possibility dawned on Hiroki, suggesting that he might indeed be trapped within the confines of that very book.


    The stark reality of his situation became undeniable. Hiroki realized he had been reincarnated into a novel.


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    Hiroki''s mind raced with a jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions, each one vying for dominance in the chaos of his inner turmoil. He felt like a character torn from the pages of his own life story, thrust into a narrative not of his making. The boundaries between reality and fiction blurred, leaving him adrift in a sea of uncertainty.


    As Hiroki grappled with this surreal revelation, a sense of disbelief mingled with fear and confusion. How could he reconcile the world he once knew with this new, fantastical reality? It was as if the very fabric of Hiroki''s existence had been woven into the tapestry of a novel, and he was powerless to resist its pull.


    Despite his confusion and disbelief, Hiroki recognized the gift of life, even if it was within the confines of an alternate reality. Yet, the nagging question persisted: why him, and why this story? Hiroki couldn''t shake the feeling that there was a deeper purpose behind his inexplicable journey, one that eluded his grasp like a fleeting dream.


    The irony wasn''t lost on Hiroki ¨C a lover of magical tales who now found himself ensnared in a narrative developed around a broken magical system. As he pondered the peculiarities of his situation, Hiroki couldn''t help but recall his scathing review of the novel that now held him captive. It definitely wasn''t envy over the author''s ability to develop truly interesting characters that fueled his critique, but rather a genuine frustration with its flawed magical system, a sentiment Hiroki stood by despite his current circumstances.


    He could still remember the author''s notes on the novel''s website explaining its magical concepts...


    "In the world of *Ascension*, magic unfolded in a way that defied conventional wisdom. Rather than relying on ancient incantations or mystical elixirs to unlock hidden powers, individuals discovered and honed their magical abilities through a unique combination of experience and imagination.


    For the inhabitants of this enchanting realm, magic wasn''t bound by rigid rules or arcane rituals. Instead, it was a fluid force that ebbed and flowed with the whims of those who wielded it. Through the lens of personal growth and exploration, individuals unearthed the latent potential within themselves, tapping into reservoirs of untapped energy waiting to be unleashed.


    In this paradigm, every moment became an opportunity for discovery, every challenge a chance to expand one''s magical repertoire. Whether through triumph or adversity, individuals forge their paths, sculpting their abilities with the chisel of their imagination.


    It was a world where creativity was the catalyst for transformation, where the boundaries of possibility were limited only by the scope of one''s dreams. In this ever-evolving tapestry of magic, each individual became the author of their enchanted destiny, weaving spells of wonder and awe with every flick of their metaphorical pen."


    Hiroki could not help but remember thinking, ''What a flowery way to say that if you can imagine it, it can happen.


    Of course, the author put up guardrails so that a seven-year-old wouldn''t learn how to master an explosive spell after imagining a hero using it in a bedtime story.


    However, this wouldn''t even be a problem with traditional magical concepts presented in fantasy stories.


    How many seven-year-olds could navigate through a monster-infested dungeon, retrieve an ancient magical tome, and then unravel the intricate spells inscribed within?'' Hiroki sarcastically pondered.


    All he could do was shake his metaphorical head at the situation he found himself in.


    Despite the unsettling revelation of being reincarnated into a novel, Hiroki found a flicker of solace in the certainty that he had died. This assumption, crafted while entertaining the guiding spirit theory, at least provided a small victory amid the chaos. Knowing that he was right and had unequivocally passed away in the skydiving incident offered a semblance of reassurance amidst his surreal circumstances.


    Hiroki reminded himself that in the face of such uncertainty, one had to grasp onto even the smallest of victories, finding comfort wherever it could be found.


    A memory surfaced, a fragment of his mother''s wisdom from his childhood. ''Even in the darkest of storms, there is a silver lining,'' she told Hiroki, her words a beacon of reassurance in troubled times.


    The phrase echoed in Hiroki''s mind, its meaning resonating with newfound clarity. Despite the uncertainty surrounding him, he clung to the hope embodied in those words¡ªa glimmer of light amidst the darkness.


    Lost in the whirlwind of his thoughts, Hiroki almost forgot about Victor''s presence until the sound of his voice pierced through his attempt to find a ''silver lining'' like a knife ripping through a parachute.


    Victor leaned in, his eyes narrowing with amusement. He relished the discomfort he could incite with a mere glance. ''Are you paying attention?'' His words snapped Hiroki back to the present, his tone laced with subtle mockery. A soft chuckle escaped Victor''s lips, his smirk widening.


    Hiroki''s mind scrambled to catch up, shaken from his reverie by Victor''s taunting. The intrusion hit him like a splash of cold water, stirring Hiroki''s senses to full alertness. ''My wind magic must have knocked the air out of you,'' Victor quipped.


    Then, with a sudden shift in tone, Victor instructed, his demeanour unruffled, ''Stick to the plan and perform a fireball. It''s a basic spell you should be able to conjure without a second thought. After all, you are a fire mage, aren''t you?''

 Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 4

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    Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 4


    "It would impress the judges if I could deflect one of your fireball spells with my new Wind Breath spell," Victor added casually, conjuring a ball of wind in his palm with a swift gesture.


    As Hiroki observed Victor''s demonstration of magic, his pulse quickened. The confirmation that magic was not merely a fantasy but a tangible reality in this new world filled him with wonder and anticipation. Stirring his imagination were the possibilities that magic offered¡ªspells, enchantments, untold adventures¡ªigniting a sense of exhilaration.


    Yet, interwoven with his excitement, Hiroki felt a growing sense of unease. The realization that he now inhabited a world seemingly drawn from the pages of a novel brought a wave of concern crashing over him. The fantastical elements that once captivated him in stories now loomed before him as tangible, albeit unpredictable, forces.


    Hiroki couldn''t shake the unsettling feeling of being an unwitting participant in a story not of his own making. The allure of adventure mingled with the unsettling notion that he was no longer in control of his destiny, thrust into a narrative where the rules were unfamiliar and the stakes unknown.


    "Why should I have to compete against Victor Thornwood in a competition overseen by judges?" Hiroki could not help but ruminate in the recesses of his thoughts. Reflecting on Victor''s words, Hiroki realized that the recent attack must have stemmed from a misunderstanding rather than malicious intent.


    The next logical step for Hiroki became evident: he needed to inform Victor Thornwood that he was not a fire mage. Hiroki understood that clarifying this misunderstanding was essential to preventing another attack and potentially averting a sudden tragic end to his life. He definitely did not want to die... again.


    Just as he was about to speak, a vivid image from his past intruded upon his thoughts, disrupting his resolve. Suddenly, the memory of a flickering flame dancing on the stove of his family noodle shop flashed before his eyes, throwing him completely off balance.


    One of Hiroki''s earliest memories emerged vividly from when he was just seven years old. It was a time when the world felt expansive, teeming with mysteries waiting to be unravelled. On that specific day, with no customers in sight, he ventured into the comforting embrace of the restaurant''s back kitchen area. The aroma of spices and savoury delights cocooned him like a warm blanket as he tiptoed across the tiled floor, the sound of his small footsteps echoing softly in the hushed atmosphere.


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    Seeking the comforting presence of his parents, Hiroki ventured into the heart of the kitchen. There, next to a large, bright flame on the stove, stood his father, a figure of quiet strength and wisdom. Hiroki watched as his father gazed into the dancing flame with a mixture of reflection and reverence displayed on his features. His father appeared entranced by the mesmerizing display of fire.


    It was a memory etched into his mind with the gentle strokes of nostalgia, a reminder of simpler times and the bonds that held their family together. And as Hiroki stood in the kitchen once more, he heard his father''s reflections...


    "I often wonder: Did my passion for cooking, combined with the deep well of love I held for your mother, propel me toward the helm of this restaurant? Or was it, perhaps, the hand of fate that guided my steps, leading me down a path already laid out before me? Did I merely dance to the tune of destiny, my choices a mere echo of a grand design unfolding with each passing moment? Often, it felt like the only path I was meant to follow."


    Hiroki''s father mused, his voice carrying the weight of years spent pondering the intricacies of life''s twists and turns. As he continued to stare at the flame on the stove, his gaze slowly drifted towards Hiroki, a glimmer of contemplation in his eyes. "Sometimes, son, we find ourselves on a road we never anticipated, guided by forces beyond our understanding. Yet, it''s how we navigate that road that defines who we are." With a wistful smile, he turned off the stove and walked away.


    For a moment, Hiroki wanted nothing more than to turn the gas stove back on, to gaze upon the flame one last time.


    But as quickly as the memory had come, it faded away, leaving Hiroki standing in the present, grappling with the reality of his situation. With a deep breath, he pushed aside the distraction and refocused his attention on the task at hand.


    With determination burning in his eyes once more, Hiroki steeled himself for the confrontation ahead. Despite the uncertainty and fear gnawing at his insides, he knew that he couldn''t afford to let his emotions get the best of him. With a resolute resolve, he prepared to confront Victor and set the record straight once and for all.


    Hiroki prepared to speak, poised to deny Victor''s assumption of him as a fire mage. Yet, before he could utter a word, Victor Thornwood''s haughty laughter shattered the moment, cutting off Hiroki''s latest attempt to refute the claim. With a sudden gesture, Victor pointed at Hiroki''s right hand, his expression gleeful. "I say, that''s more like it."


    Confused, Hiroki trailed Victor''s gaze to his hand, only to encounter a startling scene. Flames enveloped his hand, the flickering tongues of fire dancing around his fingers with an ethereal grace.


    No pain or discomfort accompanied the intense inferno engulfing Hiroki''s hand. Instead, he was overwhelmed by a sense of bewilderment and disbelief. Questions raced through Hiroki''s mind as he struggled to comprehend the inexplicable phenomenon unfolding before him.


    His voice barely audible amidst the crackling fire, Hiroki muttered to himself, "I really don''t need any more surprises."


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 Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 5

    Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 5


    Hiroki stared down at his hands, only to realize they were not his own. Gone were the numerous scars accumulated from years of toiling in his parents'' restaurant kitchen during his youth. Also, the calluses from endless days of typing at his office job in recent years had vanished. In their place were very pale, unblemished arms and hands untouched by hard labour. Yet, on the palm of his right hand, a small, bright red flame continued to flicker.


    Did I possess the body of a fictional character from a mediocre novel? Am I haunting my copy of Ascension? Maybe this would never have happened if I had bought an e-reader. This definitely wouldn''t have happened if I had called in sick on the day of the skydiving trip.


    "Now," Victor''s voice cut through Hiroki''s turbulent thoughts, "let''s see if you can control it. Throw the fireball. Show me what you can do."


    The prospect of deliberately launching a fireball felt surreal. Hiroki hesitated, doubt gnawing at him. He didn''t want to harm anyone, least of all himself. But as he glanced at Victor, who was watching him with an expectant grin, Hiroki realized that refusing was not an option. The only way to move forward was to confront this newfound power head-on.


    Taking a deep breath, Hiroki focused on the flames. The sensation was strange yet instinctively familiar as if a latent part of him recognized the energy flowing through his hand. Tentatively, he raised his arm, aiming away from Victor and towards an open area.


    "Here goes nothing," he muttered to himself.


    With a swift, deliberate motion, Hiroki thrust his hand forward. To his astonishment, the flames responded to his will, coalescing into a compact sphere that shot through the air. The fireball streaked toward its target, leaving a trail of radiant light in its wake.


    The impact was immediate and dramatic. The fireball exploded against the ground with a burst of light and heat, sending a shower of sparks and embers into the air. Hiroki stared, wide-eyed, at the smouldering crater left in its wake, the realization of his actions dawning upon him.


    Victor Thornwood''s eyes, which had gleamed with satisfaction just moments before, now darkened with anger. He took a step closer to Hiroki, his expression severe. "What were you thinking?" he snapped, his voice a sharp contrast to his earlier encouragement. "You were supposed to throw the fireball at me! How else are we going to impress the judges at the closing ceremony if you can''t follow simple instructions?"


    Hiroki''s heart sank. The elation he had felt from successfully conjuring the fireball was now overshadowed by Victor''s harsh words. He had thought aiming away from Victor would be the safest option, but clearly, he had miscalculated.


    "I didn''t want to set fire to anything," Hiroki stammered, his mind racing. "I thought it would be more prudent to aim at an open area."


    Victor''s scowl deepened. "In the world of magic, precision and control are everything. You need to trust your abilities and your allies. Hesitation could be fatal in a real battle." He paused, taking a deep breath, as if trying to rein in his frustration.


    "Look, we are in our final year at Highborne Imperial Institute of Magic. It is our last chance to impress the judges at this year''s closing ceremony. They are expecting a full demonstration of our skills. If I fail to impress them, it will affect my plans."


    Victor lowered his voice as he continued, "I''ve ascended, Hiroki. Do you understand what that means? I''ve gained the ability to master more than one element of magic. I can now use wind magic along with earth magic. Ascension is the pinnacle of magical achievement, something only one percent of mages ever accomplish. This closing ceremony is my chance to show the world what I''ve achieved."


    Hiroki recalled from the novel that the hero, Leonard de Aquila, would steal the spotlight during the closing ceremony competitions. The exact details eluded him at the moment. He knew he couldn''t share this information with Victor. He had no proof. Revealing he came from another world would sound crazy. Hiroki realized he needed to process everything that had happened since his arrival. He decided he had to get away from Victor at the first opportunity. He needed a quiet place to gather his thoughts and decided to slip away as soon as he could.


    Victor''s eyes gleamed with determination. "And that''s where you come in. You make me look good in front of the judges, and I will get you into The Black Lotus."


    Hiroki''s blood ran cold at the mention of ''The Black Lotus''. He remembered that name all too well. In the novel this world was based on, The Black Lotus was a powerful and malevolent organization. Coincidentally, it was also the name of his family''s noodle shop back in his previous life¡ªThe Black Lotus Noodle House. The irony was not lost on him, and the unsettling coincidence only added to his growing sense of dread.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Seeing Hiroki''s reaction, Victor''s expression turned serious. "If you want your noble house to not only survive but thrive, you need allies. The Black Lotus is powerful, and their support could mean the difference between success and failure. Let''s face it, you''re an average fire mage at best. Joining them could give you the edge you need."


    So, the person I possessed is a noble in this world, Hiroki realized, recalling that there were several noble houses in the novel Ascension. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He knew he had little choice but to play along, at least for now. "Alright," he said, his voice firming. "I''ll do my best. Let''s try again."


    Victor nodded approvingly. "Good. Remember, trust your power and trust me. I won''t let you fail."


    There was a flicker in Victor''s eyes, a brief, almost imperceptible glint that Hiroki missed in his focus. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only Victor''s confident smile in its wake.


    Taking a deep breath, Hiroki focused once more on the flames in his hand. This time, he aimed directly at Victor, pushing aside his fear of causing harm. He had to trust Victor''s ability to defend himself with his wind magic.


    "Ready?" he called out, his voice steadier.


    Victor nodded, his stance confident. "Ready."


    With renewed resolve, Hiroki thrust his hand forward, releasing the fireball with a swift, controlled motion. The flames obeyed his command, hurtling towards Victor with precision. At the last moment, Victor raised his hand, conjuring a barrier of wind that deflected the fireball with a swirling gust.


    The flames dissipated harmlessly, leaving only a faint trace of smoke. Victor lowered his hand, a satisfied smile returning to his face. "Much better," he said. "Now that''s the kind of control we''ll need to show at the ceremony. We''ll make a formidable team yet. Now, let''s get back to training. We have a lot of work to do before the closing ceremony."


    The momentary triumph from the successful fireball deflection was abruptly shattered by the sound of an irate female voice approaching from behind Hiroki. He recognized the distinctive pitch and tone of someone furious. "Nigel!?... Nigel!!... Nigel!!!... Nigel von Astaroth, do not ignore me!!!"


    This Nigel must be in some real trouble, Hiroki thought, feeling the anger radiating from the woman''s voice, a tone all too familiar from past experiences with his ex-girlfriend.


    Glancing at Victor, Hiroki was shocked to see him turning pale, a look of genuine fear etched across his face. The approaching woman continued, her voice cutting through the air with palpable anger. "Victor, tell your lackey to pay me proper respect, or I will turn him into an undead that will listen when I talk."


    Victor, now looking as if he wanted to melt into the ground, turned to Hiroki and whispered urgently, "Nigel, you should take care of this."


    Hiroki''s mind raced, trying to process the unexpected turn of events. Am I in possession of Nigel''s body? Is he a fire mage? Is that why I can use magic?


    As the woman drew nearer, her presence became unmistakable. Hiroki could sense her anger growing stronger, radiating like a palpable force. Victor''s fearful reaction confirmed it: the woman was directly behind Hiroki, in full view of Victor, who seemed desperate to avoid her wrath.


    Not knowing what else to do, Hiroki turned around and came face to face with the second familiar person he had met since arriving in this novel. It was Lysandra Noir, also known as the Lady in Black.


    Lysandra was about 4 feet 8 inches (142.24 centimeters) in height. Her striking green eyes were filled with a fierce intensity, and her red hair cascaded down in wild, untamed waves. She had a sharp, angular face with high cheekbones and a slender frame that belied her formidable presence. A subtle scar ran across her left eyebrow, adding to her intimidating appearance.


    Hiroki remembered Lysandra well. She was destined to be a top member of the villain group, the Black Lotus. Remarkably, she had gained her dark magic abilities at the age of nine, defying the norm where most people received their abilities between the ages of thirteen and eighteen. Despite these points, the main reason Hiroki remembered her was because she had the highest body count in the novel.


    Is she about to kill Nigel? If she does, will I be able to possess another person''s body in this novel? Maybe I can trade the life of a noble, filled with boring social events and dangerous political intrigue, for the exciting, carefree life of a rich travelling merchant.

 Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 6

    Chapter 2: Accepting His Fate? - Part 6


    Hiroki took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering unease. The faint crackle of magic buzzed at the edges of his senses, like static on an old radio. Trainees murmured as they practiced spells in surrounding arenas throughout the auditorium, oblivious to the tension between him, Victor, and Lysandra.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry; I didn¡¯t mean to ignore you,¡± Hiroki said, trying to sound casual, though the concern for his survival in this world¡ªeerily similar to the novel Ascension¡ªcrept into his voice. ¡°I was just focused on training.¡±


    Lysandra¡¯s emerald eyes narrowed, her gaze hard as she turned and pointed at Victor. ¡°Focused? On what training, exactly?¡± she demanded, expecting an answer.


    Victor flinched, his gaze darting nervously between them. His hand trembled as he placed it on his chest. ¡°We were... practicing for the closing ceremony. Mastering our technique is crucial.¡±


    A flicker of concern appeared in Lysandra¡¯s eyes, though her tone still carried the sharpness of someone who wasn¡¯t happy with the answer she had just received. ¡°Both of you should be preparing for the magical demonstration, not engaging in reckless duels. This is dangerous, especially without proper protection!¡±


    Hiroki blinked, his mind racing. Protection? he repeated to himself, his brow furrowing. Are fire mages like me so vulnerable in this world that they must be protected? He couldn¡¯t help but ponder.


    Victor let out a shaky cough, his hand now clutching his chest. ¡°Of course, you wouldn¡¯t know,¡± he muttered. ¡°You come from a minor noble family who can¡¯t afford such luxuries. She¡¯s talking about Empyreal Protections¡ªthey¡¯re elite defensive items, the best money can buy.¡±


    Hiroki clenched his teeth as frustration bubbled up inside him. Great. Nigel has a noble title but no means to support it. Just my luck. He couldn¡¯t help but let out a bitter laugh. The gods of fate dropped me into this world and trapped me in someone else¡¯s body. The least they could have done was give me decent financial means. But no, I am, stuck in this world¡¯s version of a rat race. Fantastic. Shaking his head in disbelief, he muttered to himself, I¡¯m a noble who can cook and handle tedious office tasks. How hard is it going to be to find a decent job here?


    The thought of trying to rebuild his life from scratch, with no clear path ahead, made him feel exposed like he was jumping out of an airplane depending on only a flimsy parachute¡ªwhich had not turned out very well for him in the past.


    As these concerns swirled in his head, Hiroki remembered Victor had just mentioned something about Empyreal Protections. The phrase triggered a memory. It had appeared in Ascension. According to the author, they represented the pinnacle of defensive magic¡ªrare, potent, and highly sought after by mages and warriors. Hiroki had imagined a mystical cloak that made you invisible or a small charm that created a force field¡ªelegant and practical. But nothing in the room matched that vision.


    Lysandra¡¯s voice eased slightly as she noticed Hiroki¡¯s confusion. The sharp edge in her words eased. ¡°I guess, if Nigel is uninformed, it is my duty as his senior to educate him.¡±


    With a quick motion, Lysandra pointed to a rack of swords. ¡°These swords are called Aegisblades. They contain the protection I¡¯m talking about.¡±


    Hiroki raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into his voice. ¡°A sword? Against magic?¡± His mind flashed to the earlier training session, where a sword would have done little to stop his fireball or reflect Victor¡¯s windblade.


    Lysandra¡¯s expression softened further, the edges of her sternness giving way to something warmer, though her eyes still flicked toward Victor with a lingering sharpness. ¡°Not the sword itself, Nigel. The gem on the hilt.¡± She gestured toward a blade with a large, glinting jewel embedded in its grip. The gem shimmered faintly, its light pulsing like a heartbeat. ¡°That¡¯s the source of the Empyreal Protection. It is called a Spellstone. It can be imbued with various types of magic, depending on the caster¡¯s intent and power. This one is imbued with light magic¡ªrare magic that can deflect spells, heal minor wounds, and stabilize someone if they¡¯re gravely injured.¡±


    Lysandra cleared her throat, her expression carefully composed as she tried to create a conciliatory tone¡ªthough it was painfully clear this wasn¡¯t her usual approach. ¡°It¡¯s... beneficial,¡± she began, the words slow and deliberate as if testing their weight, ¡°for someone like you, who might struggle with... a sparse mana pool.¡±


    Her attempt at gentleness made her sound more condescending than she intended. Lysandra¡¯s words hit Hiroki like a punch to the gut¡ªsparse mana. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, making his skin clammy. He felt a surge of frustration and helplessness course through Nigel''s body. The realization was a bitter one. Nigel¡¯s body was pitifully weak, lacking the most basic resource to wield magic: mana. Each heartbeat seemed to echo his inadequacy. Nigel must have experienced similar sensations many times.


    His stomach churned, and he had to swallow hard to keep from doubling over. His fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms. It was as if Nigel¡¯s doubts and insecurities had resurfaced, dragging him along for the ride. Hiroki¡¯s heart continued to pound as he fought to regain control, the sensation slowly passing but leaving behind a bitter residue. How was Nigel able to cope with this constant sense of inadequacy?


    This must be why Victor wanted Nigel as a partner for the end-of-year ceremony. He knew Nigel¡¯s lack of magical power would make him desperate, an easy pawn to manipulate.


    The thought lingered in Hiroki¡¯s mind as his gaze shifted again to the Aegisblade, its Spellstone faintly glowing¡ªalmost mocking in its quiet brilliance. Why would anyone attach such a powerful magical item like this Spellstone to an ornate sword, give it a cool name like Aegisblade, and label it as an Empyreal Protection¡ªthe most powerful magical defence classification in existence in this world?


    Lysandra had insisted on this for a reason: to guard Nigel from his limitations. If she was right about its capabilities, it was essentially a shield generator and a personal paramedic, requiring no magic from the user. It was perfectly designed to keep someone like Nigel alive.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Hiroki had to admit, that now that he was in Nigel''s body, he¡¯d need this to survive in his new reality.


    He sighed, trying to mask the discomfort that settled in his chest with this newfound knowledge. ¡°So, this little gem is supposed to save me when I run out of mana and can¡¯t manage to poke someone with the pointy end?¡±


    For a moment, Hiroki thought he caught a flicker of a smile on Lysandra¡¯s face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving him uncertain.


    Lysandra flushed, torn between frustration and concern. ¡°This is not the time to display your unique sense of humour, Nigel. You¡¯re lucky to have unrestricted access to this equipment. These swords are second only to the Sword of the Archangel, which was lost generations ago.¡±


    ¡°The Sword of the Archangel?¡± Hiroki echoed, curious.


    Lysandra nodded, tilting her head slightly to the right, her eyes distant as she spoke. ¡°It¡¯s a legendary weapon, imbued with radiant magic. Said to repel monsters, heal any injury, and defend against the strongest attacks. The sword fell from the heavens centuries ago,¡± she continued. ¡°It was given to the Tribe of Luminance, one of the seven core tribes that master a fundamental magical element.¡±


    Hiroki frowned. The name Luminance didn¡¯t ring any bells. He regretted not paying closer attention to the backstory in the novel. ¡°I don¡¯t remember hearing about them.¡±


    Nigel,.. I mean I... I must have fallen asleep in class.


    Lysandra¡¯s eyes brightened, eager to share the history. ¡°The founder of our school, Seraphina Aeloria, was from the Tribe of Luminance. She was the last known wielder of the Sword of the Archangel¡ªone of the greatest light magic specialists in history. She guarded ancient relics, including the sword. According to legend, during a monster outbreak, she hid it somewhere on campus to protect it.¡±


    She leaned forward slightly, her voice lowered with a hint of intrigue. ¡°There¡¯s even a group on campus called the Dark Angel Society. They¡¯ve been searching for the sword for over a thousand years but haven¡¯t found it yet. Victor here is a proud member.¡±


    Hiroki absorbed the information, his mind working to piece together what he knew from the novel¡ªVictor, a designated villain¡ªand the brief yet telling interactions he¡¯d had with him since his arrival. The man¡¯s calculating demeanor left little doubt about his true nature.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯re interested in the blade for purely academic curiosity,¡± he added dryly.


    Lysandra quickly put her hands to her face, her cheeks flushing with a mix of amusement and frustration, trying to hide a smirk. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, despite her efforts to maintain a serious expression. She found his comment amusing but didn¡¯t want to admit it.


    Hiroki stared at Lysandra, his mind racing with thoughts of his past. There was something undeniably familiar about her¡ªthe way her lips curved into that smart, barely contained smirk. Every time his ex-girlfriend Rina tried to stifle a laugh at one of his lame jokes, she''d wear that same expression.


    As he studied Lysandra closely, other familiar traits started to click into place¡ªher mannerisms, her little quirks, the way she tilted her head when she thought about something. And then, it hit him. It was so obvious now. Lysandra was the exact height of his ex, 4 feet 8 inches.


    Hiroki couldn¡¯t shake a growing curiosity about Lysandra and Nigel¡¯s relationship. Did she care for him more deeply than he realized?


    Lysandra turned, blushing furiously. "Nigel, please don''t look at me like that."


    Sensing the awkward tension, Victor quickly intervened, eager to change the subject. He picked up a sword with both hands and handed it to Hiroki, his fingers trembling. ¡°Take it,¡± he urged his voice tight with something close to desperation. ¡°You don¡¯t have to use it during the ceremony, but remember, at some point, I¡¯ll need you to... ¡®accidentally¡¯ cast a fireball toward me.¡±


    Hiroki blinked. ¡°Why would you want me to do that?¡±


    Victor hesitated and looked quickly toward Lysandra, his gaze dropping. ¡°It¡¯s part of the plan we discussed. We¡¯re both competing in the magic demonstration at the closing year ceremony. One of the judges will be Crown Prince Alaric Dravenwood. If you cast a fireball at me, I¡¯ll repel it with wind magic. The Prince and the other judges will think I¡¯ve just Ascended to a dual-element mage right before their eyes. They¡¯ll be amazed at my ability to control both wind and earth magic. This will rank me among the top mages in the Empire. As the only Ascended mage in the competition, I¡¯ll be crowned the winner. Winning the end-of-year ceremony as an Ascended mage¡ªthe only person to do so¡ªwill make me renowned well beyond the magical world, maybe even earn me an audience with the emperor.¡±


    Hiroki realized Victor seemed far more interested in personal ambition than advancing the goals of the Black Lotus organization he claimed to be part of. His behavior was driven by a desire to carve his path, far beyond the shadows of any criminal group.


    Despite reading the book, Hiroki found himself bewildered by this latest in a stream of strange events. The rules were supposed to be clear. The structure of this world was literally written in black and white, yet standing in the middle of it, he felt as if he were missing a crucial piece of the story¡ªsomething vital he was meant to understand. It was like a puzzle with pieces that didn¡¯t quite fit.


    He should have understood more, but none of this made sense. For one, he didn¡¯t remember any of the main characters carrying swords. Why would they? They were all mages, their power coming from spells, not blades. Then there was Lysandra. In the novel, she spends most of her time surrounded by the undead, not worrying about Nigel. Why was she so concerned about him now?


    And Victor... that was another thing. In the book, it was the hero Leonard de Aquila who won the magic demonstration competition, not Victor. Yet here he was, acting like the center of everything. Hiroki¡¯s mind raced, trying to reconcile the gaps.


    Where did a sword-wielding mage Nigel, who was somehow "friends" with dark magic user Lysandra and co-conspirator with the villain Victor, fit into this strange, warped version of the novel?


    ¡°So... if I help you with this... stunt,¡± Hiroki said carefully, ¡°you¡¯ll help my noble house? The one with no real magic pedigree, no influence?¡±


    Victor¡¯s eyes gleamed with a feverish, almost manic energy, the kind that made Hiroki uneasy. ¡°Exactly. Recognition will open doors to power beyond our wildest dreams. Pain and danger¡ªthey¡¯re small prices to pay for what I¡¯ll achieve.¡±


    Lysandra¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious, Victor. This is reckless. One misstep and someone could get killed! What if your wind magic accidentally hits Nigel?¡±


    ¡°Well..." Victor paused, "...that would be bad... I¡¯d probably not get a chance to meet royalty if I killed a fellow student.¡±


    Lysandra¡¯s voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl, her eyes narrowing with barely contained fury. ¡°It¡¯s idiots like you who turn practice sessions into death matches,¡± she spat, her tone thick with disdain. ¡°The school would be better off if I sent you straight to the infirmary, so you¡¯d be indisposed during this year¡¯s ceremony.¡±


    Victor, undeterred, placed his hand on his chest, his fingers drumming nervously. Hiroki watched closely, noticing the slight twitch of Victor¡¯s fingers against his clothing. Maybe it was a habit, one he couldn¡¯t seem to suppress. ¡°Relax, it¡¯s all under control,¡± Victor said, his voice forced, trying to sound confident. But Hiroki could see the tension in his posture, the way his hand subconsciously clenched into a fist as if trying to grasp something behind his shirt.


    The sharp sound of glass shattering echoed through the arena. A golden sphere suddenly materialized from Victor¡¯s chest, its light expanding rapidly, engulfing him in a shimmering glow.


    Victor''s face contorted with panic. ¡°Look what you¡¯ve done! This empyreal protection pendant was a one-use item, and both of you just made me activate it by mistake!¡±


    Hiroki¡¯s mind raced with a mix of anger and exasperation. It was clear now¡ªNigel was the only one truly at risk in Victor''s plans.