ã€ŠChains of the forgottenã€‹


 001 - The weight of Failure

    A man clad in black tactical gear stood against the cold, damp wall, his breath steady behind the visor of his helmet. His outfit¡ªhelmet, shirt, mask, and bulletproof vest¡ªwas standard for special forces, as was the sleek rifle in his hands. He pressed his back firmly to the wall, the faint sound of footsteps setting his nerves on edge.

    "I heard footsteps. Need backup¡ªthey''re at my position," P1 whispered into the radio, his voice tense but controlled.

    Moments later, two teammates appeared, rushing to his position. They wore the same tactical uniform, their presence a quiet reassurance.

    "We need to hurry and defuse this," one of them said, his voice sharp with urgency. "you need to move in P1"

    "OK" Replied P1.

    The man nodded and turned his focus forward. Slowly, he peeled away from the wall, inching toward an archway to his right, just a few steps ahead. His movements were precise, calculated¡ªno sound, no unnecessary motion.

    Through the archway, he entered an open area. His eyes scanned the scene. In the far-right corner, the bomb sat ominously, wires and circuits glinting faintly under the dim light. But the area was eerily quiet.

    "I have visual on the bomb," he reported over the comms. "No one else in sight. I''m going in."

    "I''m almost there," came the response from another teammate, his voice slightly breathless as he approached a large, slightly ajar wooden gate on the opposite side.

    The man moved cautiously toward the bomb, his weapon raised, his gaze flicking to every corner of the room. Suddenly, something shifted¡ªa subtle movement behind a crate near the bomb.

    There!

    Without hesitation, he fired. Bullets riddled the crate, splinters flying everywhere as the figure behind it fell with a heavy thud.

    Gunfire erupted nearby. His teammates were engaged in a firefight. The man pressed forward, kneeling beside the bomb. He pulled out his defusal kit, his hands moving swiftly.

    "T-minus six seconds," he murmured over the radio. "Diffusing. Keep them off m¡ª"

    Ka-chak.

    A sharp pain exploded in his back. His body went rigid as the knife drove deep between the plates of his armor. The defusal kit slipped from his grasp.

    As he crumpled to the ground, his vision blurred, and the last thing he saw was a shadowy figure standing over him, the glint of a bloodied blade in hand.

    The beeping of the bomb quickened.

    BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

    BOOM!

    The blast tore through the room, a deafening roar of fire and debris consuming everything in its path. The shockwave rippled outward, obliterating walls and throwing bodies into the air.

    As the smoke cleared, the screen went black.

    A bold, red title flickered into view, accompanied by a low, menacing hum:

    "BOMBERS WIN."

    A fat guy sat slumped in a dark room, wearing a crumpled green t-shirt and loose shorts. He adjusted his glasses as they slid down his sweaty nose, his eyes glued to the computer screen. The room was a mess¡ªtrash littered the floor, crumpled chip bags, and empty soda cans formed small mounds in every corner. The faint glow of the monitor lit the cluttered room, highlighting a simple bed, a dusty bookshelf, and a computer table barely holding up under the weight of chaos.

    Outside the lone window, it was pitch dark. The city slept while Gaon Im, a 28-year-old unemployed man, screamed at the top of his lungs.

    "Fuuuuck! We lost! And that bitch knifed me! Of course, it had to happen in my rank-up match!" he roared, smacking his head with both hands.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Frustration boiled over, and his fists slammed into the table. The force sent a can of soda tumbling, spilling its contents over his keyboard.

    "Shit, shit, shit!" Gaon cursed, scrambling for something to mop up the sticky liquid. His hand found an old t-shirt from the pile of dirty clothes on the floor. He yanked it up and started dabbing the keyboard furiously, muttering curses under his breath.

    A soft knock at the door.

    "What happened, Gaon? I heard you shouting. Do you need any help?" came a concerned female voice from the other side.

    Gaon''s frustration flared. "Ahhhh, just go away! Don''t bother me! I''ll put the dishes and clothes outside later!"

    There was a pause. Then, a quieter response: "Okay."

    Just as he thought she''d left, her voice returned, softer, almost hesitant. "Your father was asking about you¡­ He misses you."

    "GO AWAY!" Gaon bellowed, slamming his fists on the table again.

    The silence that followed felt heavier this time, broken only by the faint sound of retreating footsteps.

    After a few minutes, Gaon got up, tossing the now-soggy t-shirt aside. He opened his bedroom door to find a neatly wrapped packet of hongeo sitting on the floor. The smell of fermented skate fish hit him, even through the plastic.

    "Today is just not my day, huh?" he muttered, kicking the package lightly before dragging himself back into his room.

    Gaon took a deep breath, surveying the mess he lived in. The stench of old food and dirty laundry was unbearable, even to him. He began piling up the clothes into a heap, grabbing the same t-shirt he had used to clean his keyboard. Then, he collected the dirty dishes stacked on his desk¡ªplates with remnants of half-eaten, now-rotten food¡ªand added them to the pile.

    He opened the door and dumped everything outside: the dirty dishes, the pile of clothes, and the untouched hongeo his mother had left for him.

    "All done," he mumbled to himself with a hollow sense of accomplishment.

    Gaon closed the door behind him and returned to his computer. The glowing screen still displayed the dreaded words: "Bombers Win."

    "Time for a rematch," he muttered, fingers already moving to queue up the next game.

    After a string of losses in his next few matches, Gaon leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. The frustration had dulled, leaving a strange emptiness in its place.

    "Really... today''s just not my day," he muttered, sighing deeply.

    The silence of the night was interrupted by the low growl of his stomach. Hunger gnawed at him, and he glanced at the clock on his computer screen¡ª2:30 AM.

    Reluctantly, Gaon stood up and shuffled out of his room, passing the pile of garbage and dishes left by his door without so much as a glance. He descended the stairs and made his way to the kitchen.

    The kitchen was dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the window. Gaon grabbed a box of instant noodles from the pantry, filled it with warm water, and set it on the table to cook. As he waited, he opened the fridge, rummaging through its contents.

    A small container of rice caught his eye.

    "Fried rice¡­" he murmured to himself. "It''s been a long time since I cooked anything for myself."

    Just as he was lost in thought, a sudden noise broke the stillness.

    Thunk.

    The sound of something hitting the floor jolted him, and he spun around, his heart pounding.

    Behind him stood a man¡ªseemingly fit for his age¡ªwith a worried smile on his face. He was holding a glass, the source of the noise evident: the glass lid had fallen to the floor.

    "Sorry, didn''t mean to spook you," the man said, crouching down to pick up the lid.

    Gaon''s chest tightened as he recognized the man. Tae Im, Age 59¡ªhis father.

    "I just needed some water," Tae added casually, walking toward the sink.

    Gaon stood frozen, his expression blank, his hands still gripping the edge of the fridge door.

    "Close the fridge when you''re done, Gaon," his father said, his back turned as he filled his glass at the tap.

    Without a word, Gaon closed the fridge. He turned back to the table, reaching for the noodle cup he had set aside.

    "Are you going to cook something?" Tae asked, his voice gentle but tinged with longing. "I miss your cooking¡­ even though you only did it sometimes."

    Gaon hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on the noodle cup. "Not today," he said flatly, grabbing the cup and turning to leave.

    "Gaon," his father called, stopping him in his tracks.

    Gaon didn''t turn around.

    "I''m sorry," Tae said, his voice heavy with emotion. "I don''t know what I did to push you away, but I''m sorry. I''m willing to do anything to make things right between us. I love you, Gaon."

    The words hung in the air, filling the silence with an unbearable weight. Gaon stood motionless for a moment, then walked out of the kitchen without a response.

    Back in his room, he placed the noodle cup on his cluttered desk and sat on his bed. He leaned back against the wall, knees pulled up, and lightly banged his head against the wall in frustration.

    "Ehhh¡­" he groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "Now I have to distract myself to stop thinking about it."

    Grabbing his phone, he opened a social media app and began scrolling aimlessly.

    Photos of his friends and acquaintances flashed past his eyes.

    "Oh, he got the job? Good for him."

    "He went to Cuba this time."

    "Sheesh, this guy''s loaded."

    A photo of a familiar face made him stop. "Yo, it''s Shin. How long has it been since I talked to him?"

    And then¡­ he froze.

    "IT''S HER."

    His breath caught in his throat, and tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over as he stared at the screen.

    "She''s the reason I''m like this now," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow.

    Memories came flooding back, unbidden. The walls he had built around himself started to crack as he sank deeper into the past.

 002 - Ghost of the past

    Gaon had always been overweight, but it never bothered him. He had never let his size define him, or let others'' words affect his belief in who he was. He was a good guy, someone who tried to stay positive despite the circumstances. He wasn''t the best student, but he worked hard enough to land a spot at a good university and, eventually, a decent job. But once he entered the real world, that''s when everything started to change.

    Work pressure, the endless stream of tasks, the constant bullying, and being excluded by his peers took a toll on him. His manager, rude and cruel, often yelled at him in front of everyone, belittling him in the harshest ways. Long hours at the office left him with little energy for anything else, and sometimes, it felt like he was living in a hell of his own making. The workload kept him away from home for days on end, and he started to feel invisible.

    Then she came into the office.

    Gaon first saw her on social media¡ªAreum Dan, a 22-year-old girl who had recently joined the company. At first, he was too overwhelmed by work to even notice her presence at the office. His days were consumed by deadlines and frustration. But one day, when he could hardly breathe from the pressure, something happened. That''s when he first encountered her.

    It was a particularly bad day. The office was quiet, but Gaon''s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The manager had just yelled at him for the umpteenth time, his voice echoing through the empty halls. Gaon had skipped lunch¡ªhell, he had skipped every meal up to that point¡ªand it was already past 8:30 PM. His manager had just told him to redo all his work by the next morning or else he''d make Gaon run naked through the office. He was at his breaking point.

    "Yes, sir," Gaon muttered through clenched teeth, leaving the manager''s office. The last shred of patience he had was about to snap. He went back to his table and started working.

    At 12:30 he saw that office is almost empty, he stumbled outside, looking for a brief escape. As he approached the vending machine, he inserted the money and pressed the button, hoping for something to relieve his stress. But nothing came. He tried shaking it, nothing happened, shaking turned into kicking, kicking into punching, he started venting out his anger on the machine.

    Then, his anger morphed into something else¡ªa quiet sob. Gaon collapsed to his knees, sitting down with his back against the machine. His hands wrapped around his knees as his head dropped forward, and the tears flowed freely. He had never felt so alone.

    Suddenly, a voice broke through his misery.

    "Hey."

    Gaon wiped his tears with his sleeve, embarrassed, and looked up. He hadn''t realized anyone else was around. There, in front of him, was a girl¡ªbeautiful, with shoulder-length hair and kind eyes. She was crouched down to meet his gaze, holding out an open box of cigarettes.

    "Want one?" she asked gently.

    Gaon, still embarrassed, nodded silently and took one. He tried to compose himself, still feeling the weight of everything crashing down on him.

    Cut to the smoking area outside the office, where Gaon and Areum stood together, the silence between them comfortable yet filled with the unspoken understanding of their shared moment. Areum took a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling the smoke calmly.

    "So," Gaon said, breaking the silence, "How much did you see?"

    "I saw from when your manager yelled at you in the evening," Areum replied casually, her eyes soft as she observed Gaon''s discomfort.

    Gaon bowed his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I''m sorry," he muttered, almost to himself.

    Areum took another puff before responding, her voice warm but firm. "Why are you sorry? Your asshole manager has no shame. He should be the one apologizing. You know, Gaon, you''re sweet. You shouldn''t let these people walk all over you. You''ve got to learn to stand up for yourself."

    Gaon blinked at her, stunned by her words. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. He felt his heart race a little¡ªshe was kind, and for the first time in ages, someone was seeing him for more than just the guy who always sat quietly in the corner.

    "I''ll just shut up now," Areum said with a slight laugh. "You don''t need another lecture. So, how long have you been working here?"

    "Eight months," Gaon replied, a little hesitant but grateful for the normal conversation.

    "Eight months? So, you''re fresh meat." Areum grinned playfully, causing Gaon to smile despite himself. "Hahaha. I''m new here too, you know. Us new guys need to look out for each other."

    Gaon chuckled nervously, still processing everything that had just happened.

    Areum finished her cigarette and stubbed it out with her foot. "Well, I''ve got to go. It''s really late."

    "Sure," Gaon said, still unsure of what to say.

    As Areum grabbed her bag and turned to leave, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him. "Let''s meet again tomorrow, okay? Bye."

    Gaon stood there, feeling a strange warmth inside. It was the first good human interaction he''d had in months, and it left him both confused and hopeful. All his office colleagues had been excluding him, and he hadn''t had a social life outside of work because of the overtime he is doing. But Areum, this stranger, had reached out to him in a way no one else had.

    He stood there, lost in thought, wondering if he had just imagined it. "Once she sees how everyone is treating me, she''ll probably ignore me too," he thought, trying to keep his expectations low. He didn''t want to get his hopes up only to be disappointed. But despite his better judgment, he couldn''t help but feel a little happier, a little lighter.

    The next day, Gaon finished the work he had been yelled at for the day before. He submitted it, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. Around lunch, something unexpected happened. Areum walked over to his seat.

    "Gaon, do you want to grab lunch together?" she asked, her smile warm and genuine. Gaon couldn''t believe it¡ªthis was the girl who had reached out to him when he was at his lowest, the one person in the office who treated him like a human.

    Before Gaon could respond, one of his peers, Joon Kang, stood up from his seat nearby. Joon was in pretty good shape, always well-dressed, and definitely handsome. He flashed a confident smile and walked over to Areum.

    "Hey, I don''t think we''ve met," Joon said, extending a hand. "I''m Joon Kang, Sales Department."

    Areum smiled, shaking his hand. "Hi, I''m Areum Dan from the Marketing Department."

    Joon gave a friendly grin. "Oh, marketing, huh? Well, we should get to know each other. Maybe you can help me boost my sales."

    Areum smiled back, clearly friendly but already making it clear she was still focused on her original plan. "Yeah, I''d be happy to help. Actually, Gaon and I were just about to go to lunch. You should join us."

    Gaon remained seated, watching the exchange with a mix of disappointment and nervousness. He wasn''t sure why, but Joon''s presence was making him uneasy.

    Joon, now looking at Areum with a curious expression, asked, "Areum, you''re new here, right?"

    "Yes, it''s only my second week," she replied.

    Joon raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so I''ve got a new junior, huh? I''ve been working here for three years and five months."

    Areum laughed, unsure how to respond, the awkwardness hanging between them. "Hahaha, yeah¡­"

    Joon, in a tone that was both self-assured and a little condescending, continued, "Well, as a senior, it''s my duty to guide my juniors. And I''d suggest you choose the right people to affiliate with. A fat fish can dirty the whole pond, you know?"

    Gaon felt his stomach churn as he understood exactly what Joon meant. The office''s implicit bullying was never far from the surface, but now it was blatant.

    Gaon didn''t react, just lowered his head and clenched his fist in anger, wishing he could say something back but knowing that nothing would come of it.

    Areum, however, wasn''t intimidated. She straightened up, her eyes narrowing as she shot back, "Thanks for your advice, but it''s my second week in this office, not my second week in the world. I know exactly who I want to be around." She looked directly at Gaon and added, "Let''s go, Gaon."

    The way Areum stood up for him, even without knowing the full depth of the situation, struck a chord in Gaon. He had never had someone take his side like that before, and it felt both comforting and empowering.

    Lunch became a ritual for Gaon and Areum. They started off simply sharing meals together, then texting about small things¡ªhow their days were going, the little annoyances of office life, and random thoughts that seemed insignificant but somehow meant everything. Gaon found himself opening up to Areum in ways he hadn''t with anyone else. She became his light, the one person in the office who made everything feel a little more bearable.

    As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Gaon began to look forward to going to work, not for the tasks or the meetings, but for the time he could spend with Areum. She was his escape, his outlet. He found himself venting his frustrations to her, whether through long chats or in person, about his ungrateful manager and the bullying that still ran rampant in the office.

    Six months passed, and Gaon had been working at the company for a year and four months. During that time, something had changed inside him. His feelings for Areum had deepened. She wasn''t just his coworker anymore; she was becoming someone he couldn''t imagine his life without.

    But then doubt crept in.

    What if she didn''t like hearing all my ranting?

    What if she doesn''t feel the same about me? What if she''s just stuck with me out of pity or obligation?

    Gaon couldn''t shake the fear that his feelings were one-sided, that his confessions might ruin their friendship. So, one day, he decided to test it. He wouldn''t text Areum at all.

    It was hard. Every part of him wanted to reach out to her, to send her a message like they always did, but he resisted. Every ping and beep from his phone made his heart race in hope that it was her, but it never was.

    Areum didn''t text him that day. It felt like the world was pulling away, and Gaon struggled to keep his mind from spiraling into uncertainty. The whole day, he felt like he was on edge, unsure whether to approach her at work or just wait for the inevitable distance to grow.

    The next day, as Gaon sat at his desk, a broken feeling inside him, he suddenly heard a voice from behind him.

    "Where were you yesterday? You didn''t text me¡­"

    It was Areum, standing at his desk with a concerned look on her face.

    Gaon felt a mix of relief and confusion flood over him. "So? Neither did you¡­" he said, teasing her in return, even though he couldn''t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

    Areum''s smile softened, and she replied, "I thought you were busy. Normally, you text me the first thing when you get home."

    Gaon''s heart beat faster. Maybe, just maybe, she did care more than he thought. Gaon felt a deep relief settle within him when he realized that Areum was still interested in talking to him. He had been uncertain of her feelings, unsure whether she saw him as a friend or something more. Despite his growing attachment, he decided not to tell her about his feelings, fearing that it might push her away.

    As days passed, his feelings only deepened. For the first time, Gaon had allowed himself to truly care for someone. He had always held himself back from forming close connections with women, believing that his physical appearance and self-doubt would be too much for anyone to overlook. He had always rejected his feelings before they could grow. But with Areum, everything was different. To him, she had become everything. He yearned to be with her, to spend time outside the confines of work, to experience her presence without the watchful eyes of the office.

    But they had never been anywhere alone, just the two of them. Every conversation was within the boundaries of the office walls. Gaon didn''t know how to ask for more, but he wanted it desperately. He was ready to give anything to be with her.

    Then, without warning, Areum disappeared.

    She stopped answering his calls, and she wasn''t replying to his texts. At first, Gaon thought it was just a temporary thing, maybe she was busy or had other things to attend to. But when it stretched into two days with no word, he couldn''t think straight. His world began to crumble around him.

    When he asked around at the office, no one seemed to know where she was. Her manager had said she was on leave for a week, but that didn''t stop the gnawing worry that took root in Gaon''s chest. An hour without Areum felt like a day, and with each passing moment, he felt his anxiety mounting.

    He couldn''t bear it. He had to know where she was, to make sure she was okay.

    The texts began.

    "Where are you?

    Why are you not answering calls?

    Why are you not replying?

    Are you okay?

    I''m sorry if I did anything to upset you.

    How are you?

    Can we talk a little?

    I miss you. Just tell me that you are okay.

    Just text me once, I won''t disturb you.

    -7 Missed Calls-.

    Please pick up my calls.

    I''m sorry if I did anything wrong.

    Why are you not replying to me?

    Areum, where are you?

    I need you, Areum.

    Areum, please.

    Areum, I can''t live without you.

    I love you.

    I love you.

    I love you.

    I love you.

    I love you."

    The messages went on and on. Hours stretched into days, and still no reply.

    Four days passed with no word from Areum, and Gaon''s panic grew deeper. He couldn''t sit still. He took leave from work and locked himself away in his room, wrapped in his blanket. Nothing soothed him. Every ping from his phone sent a surge of hope through him, only to be crushed when it wasn''t from Areum.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Gaon hadn''t slept in two days. He was too restless, too consumed by the anxiety of not knowing if she was okay, not knowing why she was ignoring him. His mind raced in circles, and yet nothing helped.

    Finally, when he woke up the next morning, there it was: a message from Areum.

    "We need to talk."

    Gaon''s heart leaped. He didn''t even check the time before calling her. He needed to hear her voice, needed to know that she was okay. He didn''t care about anything else.

    Tring tring, tring tring, tring tring, tring tring, czack

    "Hello?" Areum''s voice was faint but clear, and Gaon felt a wave of relief wash over him.

    "Where were you? Do you know how worried I was? Are you okay? What happened?" Gaon blurted out, the words spilling out in a rush. He had been holding them in for so long.

    "Calm down," Areum said softly, but her voice was strained. "It''s nothing. I fell down the stairs and broke my hand and phone. My dad contacted the manager at the office. Didn''t you hear from him?"

    Gaon''s heart dropped. He had been so caught up in his own worry, he hadn''t even thought about something as simple as her being injured. His anger shifted from Areum to the manager for not keeping him informed, but at the same time, he was relieved that Areum was safe.

    "Oh, are you okay now?" Gaon asked, his voice softening.

    "Yeah... I''m okay," Areum replied hesitantly. "I read the messages¡­"

    Gaon froze. The realization hit him hard. The texts, the desperate words he had sent her¡ªthey were all there, and he felt the weight of his actions crashing down on him.

    He quickly tried to backtrack, his voice faltering. "Don''t mind it, I was just kidding," he said, but it was too late.

    Areum paused before speaking again, her voice tinged with regret. "I don''t think I can, Gaon. I need you to know that I don''t want to date anyone. I''ve always seen you as a friend, and nothing more. I didn''t have the slightest clue that this is how you felt about me, and now it seems all too obvious. I''m sorry, Gaon. I guess we should stop talking to each other."

    The words felt like a slap to Gaon''s face. His mind raced, trying to form a response, to explain himself, but the words caught in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

    "Bu¡ªbut I¡ª" he stammered, but before he could say anything more, the call ended abruptly.

    The line went dead.

    Gaon stared at his phone, his heart sinking into his stomach. The silence that followed was deafening. He couldn''t understand what had just happened. He had never been so sure of someone, so certain that this connection he had with Areum was something real. And now, it was gone.

    He sat there, motionless, for what felt like an eternity. All he could think about was how he wished he could take back the words he had said, how he wished he could undo everything. But even in his pain, he knew one thing for sure¡ªhe didn''t regret meeting Areum.

    Because, for a brief moment, he had truly been happy.

    A month passed since the conversation that shattered Gaon''s heart, and although Areum''s arm had healed considerably, she still wore the plaster around it. She returned to the office, but there was a palpable distance between them. Areum didn''t acknowledge Gaon at all, despite his attempts to reach out. He tried his best, sending messages, offering a smile whenever they crossed paths, but Areum didn''t seem to care.

    Gaon couldn''t understand it. Not a second passed when he didn''t think about her¡ªabout the good times they had shared, the way they used to talk for hours, about the affection he felt for her. His mind replayed those memories again and again, as if trying to hold on to the fragments of a dream that was slipping away.

    One day, around 1:30 PM, after finishing his work, Gaon left for home. He was lost in his thoughts, but then, as he walked down the street, he saw someone from behind. His heart skipped a beat, and without thinking, he began to walk faster. It was her. He was sure of it. Even though she was walking with a guy, Gaon could tell it was Areum just by the way she moved.

    But something didn''t sit right. The guy had his arm wrapped around her neck, and they were heading toward a love hotel. Gaon froze, his mind struggling to make sense of what he was seeing. Was it really Areum? No, it couldn''t be. She had always said, "I don''t want to date anyone." He tried to convince himself that it wasn''t her, but the knot in his stomach tightened.

    He needed to be sure. He couldn''t just walk away without knowing. So, he waited outside the love hotel, hiding in the shadows. Time dragged on, each minute stretching into what felt like an eternity. His mind kept racing¡ªNo, I''ve been with Areum for months, I know her. She''s not like this. She can''t be. I''m wasting my time, I should just leave.

    But then, after what felt like an hour, the couple emerged from the hotel. Gaon''s heart leaped into his throat. His instincts screamed at him to leave, to stop being a creep lurking outside a love hotel. But as the couple turned in opposite directions, Gaon saw it.

    The girl¡ªthe one he thought might be Areum¡ªwas wearing a plaster on her arm.

    Gaon''s heart shattered. His worst fears were confirmed. She was wearing the same plaster that Areum had been wearing for weeks. Gaon''s legs gave way, and he collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably. He ran toward her, tears streaming down his face, his nose running, his chin trembling, his hand shaking, stomach twisting in knots. He was crying like a child, his heart breaking all over again.

    He stood in front of Areum, his breath ragged. He didn''t care about the guy standing beside her. He didn''t even register Joon, who stood there, looking at him with a puzzled expression. Gaon could barely see him through the tears in his eyes.

    "And Joon?" Gaon cried, his voice breaking. "You were in a love hotel with Joon?"

    Areum looked at him, wide-eyed, clearly shocked to see him there. "What are you doing here?" she asked, clearly confused.

    Gaon''s mind couldn''t process her words. His heart was a storm of conflicting emotions¡ªpain, confusion, betrayal. He sobbed harder, the tears blurring his vision.

    "Why?" Gaon gasped, his voice barely a whisper. "Why did you do this? You said you didn''t want to date anyone."

    Areum was taken aback by his outburst, but she quickly composed herself, her expression turning distant. "I told you the truth, Gaon. We''re not dating. We''re just friends."

    The words hit him like a slap. His knees buckled as the weight of her words crushed him. He felt his chest tighten, the anger and sadness boiling over inside him. But the worst part was the finality of it all. The crushing truth that she had never seen him as more than a friend.

    Gaon wiped his tears and let out a shaky breath, trying to steady himself.

    "Okay." The word left his mouth like a whisper of defeat.

    Without another word, he turned and walked away, his mind numb. He didn''t know where he was going or what he was doing. He just kept walking, his feet carrying him through the night.

    He found a quiet corner of the street and sat down, his eyes blank. His mind replayed everything over and over.

    What had Areum said when she first met Joon?

    What had she said during their talks?

    Was it all just physical for her?

    Did she said that to console me?

    Did she really see him as nothing more than a friend?

    Gaon''s thoughts spiraled. He wanted to be close to her. He would have given everything to be the one by her side. But she hadn''t even considered it. It hurt more than he could express.

    Why?

    The question kept echoing in his mind.

    Why was I so different from Joon?

    Was it because of how I look?

    Am I not good enough for her?

    The more Gaon thought, the more his frustration grew.

    Maybe it''s the fault of this world,

    he thought bitterly.

    A world that punishes the good guy, the one who wants to take care of her, the one who would do anything for her. And it rewards the jerk who doesn''t care.

    Gaon closed his eyes in frustration. I wish I had been born in a different time...

    He had no energy to go to work the next morning. He called his manager, hoping for a day off, but his request was quickly denied. His manager yelled at him to come in, and with a heavy heart, Gaon forced himself to stand.

    With a blank expression on his face, he made his way back to the office. He wasn''t sure what was worse¡ªfacing his manager or facing the truth that Areum had never been his.

    Gaon sat at his desk, his eyes locked on his computer screen, though he wasn''t truly seeing anything. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the image of Areum walking away with Joon. The heavy weight of his emotions¡ªguilt, sadness, and pain¡ªpressed on him like a storm he couldn''t escape. But he didn''t care anymore. Nothing mattered.

    He didn''t even flinch when his manager came in, yelling about the leave he was asking even though he ws physically fine. His words fell like empty noise in Gaon''s ears, nothing more than an echo. He just sat there, still, like a ghost.

    The yelling continued for a few minutes before the manager, seeing there was no response, stormed off. Gaon''s gaze remained fixed ahead. It felt like the world was moving around him while he was frozen in time.

    Minutes later, Joon and Areum walked into the office together. Gaon didn''t even look up as they passed. Joon took the seat beside Gaon''s, but not a word was exchanged between them. Gaon was lost in his thoughts, the numbness in his chest growing stronger with every breath.

    It was then that lunch came, and Areum was nowhere to be found. Gaon sat in his seat, staring at his computer, his mind spiraling in circles, unable to break free from the torment.

    "I need you, Areum. Please. I can''t live without you, I love you..."

    Gaon heard the voice from behind him¡ªJoon''s voice. He was reading Gaon''s texts to Areum, surrounded by four of his peers.

    They all laughed.

    "Last night, this guy came up to me and Areum and started crying¡ª''Uaaah, uaaah, why?'' Hahahaha!" Joon laughed, his words slicing through the air like daggers.

    Gaon''s eyes stayed glued to his screen, but his heart was shattering, piece by piece. The laughter continued, each word twisting the knife deeper.

    "Bro, that bitch is such a slut¡­ she lets me hit that whenever I want¡­ She likes it rough, hahahaa. I''m gonna fuck her and then throw her away like a bi¡ª"

    Thud.

    The sound of Gaon''s fist connecting with Joon''s face rang out, drowning out the laughter. Joon stumbled backward, his mouth open in shock, but before he could react, Gaon was on him.

    Thud. Thud. Thud.

    Gaon''s fists rained down on Joon, each punch driven by the overwhelming surge of anger, pain, and heartbreak that had been building inside him for so long. The crowd of onlookers shouted, trying to pull him off, but Gaon couldn''t stop. He didn''t care.

    He didn''t care about anything anymore. He just wanted to hurt Joon. Hurt the person who had mocked him, the one who had taken Areum away.

    Thud.

    Gaon landed one more punch before the crowd finally restrained him, pulling him away from Joon''s battered form. His body shook with rage as they dragged him away, and Joon, bleeding and swollen, looked up at him, terrified.

    "Hold him tight!" Joon screamed, his voice shaky and desperate, blood dripping from his broken lip.

    Gaon struggled against the hands holding him, his eyes fixed on Joon. He couldn''t stop himself. He needed to get to him. He needed to make Joon feel the pain he had caused.

    But before he could take another step, a sharp sound cut through the air.

    Smack.

    The sting of Areum''s slap sent a shockwave through Gaon''s body. His entire world seemed to collapse in that moment, his strength draining away.

    He looked at Areum, and for the first time in a long while, he saw the disgust in her eyes. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time, but not in the way he had hoped.

    "That''s your problem, Gaon," Areum said, her voice cold. "When I first met you, I told you to take a stand. But instead, you bitched about your manager and your peers nonstop. You had no control over your emotions. I didn''t talk to you for a few days, and you went mad. You saw me with another guy, and you beat him black and blue."

    Gaon''s heart pounded in his chest, his head spinning. He opened his mouth to speak,

    "but Ar~"

    "SHUT UP," she snapped, cutting him off. "Don''t ever take my name out of your mouth. Don''t ever show your face to me again."

    Gaon stood there, frozen, his mind a blur. The words hit him like a freight train, each one stripping away what little hope he had left. He couldn''t understand. He didn''t know where it had all gone wrong.

    Areum turned to Joon, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You were right," she said, looking at him with something Gaon couldn''t bear to see. "I need to stay away from fat fish."

    She took Joon''s hand and walked away, leaving Gaon standing there, broken and empty.

    "Let''s go," Areum said, her voice soft as she led Joon away. "Let''s get you treated."

    Gaon stood in the middle of the office, staring after them. The world around him seemed distant, disconnected. The weight of everything that had just happened crashed down on him. His body shook, but he didn''t move.

    He couldn''t move.

    For the first time in his life, Gaon felt truly lost.

    Back to present -

    Gaon lay on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, phone clutched in his hand, tears streaming down his face as he stared at a photo of Areum on a beach. She was the love of his life.

    After leaving my last job before they could fire me, I thought I''d be fine. I thought my education would be enough to land me a new job. But every time I got close, the question of why I left my old job would get in the way, either from me or from the background check. For six months, I survived without pay. After that, I had to move back in with my mom and dad. At first, it wasn''t too bad. But now, two years later...

    He wiped his tears and sniffed. How do I face them? How do I face my dad? He''s done so much for me. Supported me through everything. But how can I face him now?

    The guilt gnawed at him. The shame was unbearable. Slowly, he felt his body changing, his weight creeping up. He''d gotten so much heavier. All his friends were moving ahead in their careers, growing. But Gaon? He was stuck. Stuck in his room. Stuck in his life.

    And then, the questions started. His parents started asking about his job. Not out of malice, but from concern. But for Gaon, it felt like a reminder of his failure. How could he look them in the eye? How could he show his face?

    He picked up his phone again, looking at Areum''s picture. His chest tightened. She was out there, living her life. And here he was, in the same place he had been for the last two years.

    I need to change... I can''t keep living like this... I won''t be a burden anymore. Starting now, I''ll change. I will walk toward change.

    He glanced at the clock. 2:35 AM. His noodles, long forgotten, sat untouched on his computer table.

    I''ll start with getting slimmer. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind.

    He pushed the trash aside, clearing some space on the floor. He got down on his knees for push-ups. He was overweight, out of shape. His arms trembled with the effort.

    1, 2, 3... 7.

    His breathing was heavy, his body begging for rest. He stood up, feeling the strain. I guess that''s it for today. Can''t go all in on the first day.

    He checked the time again. 2:42 AM. He looked at the noodles. They''ll get soggy if I wait too long... don''t want to waste food.

    Sighing, he sat at his computer and began eating the noodles, distracted by a show playing on the screen. The noodles finished, but Gaon kept watching, lost in the content, the hours slipping by.

    Before he knew it, it was 5:00 AM. He shut his eyes, thinking, If only I could go back in time...

    I would do things differently. I''d invest in crypto, be rich by now. I wouldn''t need a job. I''d work out every day, have abs, be able to do 100 pushups easily. I''d get all the girls... Joon wouldn''t stand a chance...

    He smiled at the thought, drifting into sleep.

    Gaon woke up with a jolt, the fog of sleep lifting slowly. He was back in his room. His old, familiar room. His own bed. His own body.

    The air was stale, the room cluttered as always. His phone was still beside him, the screen dim and forgotten. The warmth of the blanket around him felt like an anchor, pulling him back into his habitual stupor.

    It was just a dream, he thought, blinking rapidly. Just wishful thinking. I didn''t... I didn''t really get a second chance. It''s just me. Still me.

    He sighed, turning his head to look at the clock. 10:00 AM. Another wasted morning.

    His body felt heavy, as if even the act of moving was too much to bear. But his mind was heavier still, filled with thoughts of what could have been. He dragged himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes and walking over to the mirror. His reflection stared back at him¡ªa tired, defeated man who had no idea where his life was headed.

    The days passed in a blur of inactivity. He woke up late, spent hours in front of his computer, scrolling mindlessly through social media, watching videos, playing games, anything to keep his mind distracted. But no matter how much time he wasted, the ache in his chest never went away. He was stuck.

    Every night, as he lay in bed, the same thoughts plagued his mind. What if I had a second chance? What if I could go back and do things right?

    His thoughts circled around the same fantasies. I''d be rich. I''d have abs. I''d be happy. He imagined what life would be like if he could go back to his younger self. He would change everything. He would be someone better, someone worth being proud of.

    But every morning, he woke up to the same reality. His body still heavy, his spirit still broken. Time passed, and Gaon did nothing but wish for a life that seemed increasingly impossible.

    It was easier to stay inside, locked away in his room, away from the world. No one asked him about his job anymore, and for that, he was thankful. His parents, though kind, had given up on asking. He could feel their disappointment lingering in the air, even when they said nothing. They didn''t need to. Gaon knew. He knew he was a failure in their eyes. He knew he was a failure in his own eyes.

    The days stretched into weeks, then months. Time didn''t mean anything anymore. Every day was the same. He would wake up, stare at his computer screen, eat, and go back to bed.

    But every night, he would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, thoughts swirling. If I could go back in time, I''d do everything differently. I''d be strong. I''d be successful. I''d be someone worth being proud of.

    The cycle continued. And with each passing day, Gaon grew more and more isolated. He stopped talking to his friends, stopped trying to reconnect with his family. He felt invisible, lost in a sea of unfulfilled dreams.

    If I could get a second chance... The thought haunted him.

    And then, one day, something shifted.

    He woke up tired, more exhausted than ever before. His body felt as if it had given up entirely. His arms and legs felt heavy, and he could barely open his eyes.

    What... what is happening?

    He tried to scream, but no sound came out. His vision blurred. He felt someone forcing his eyelids open, the pressure unbearable.

    When his eyes finally opened, he was no longer in his room.

    Wait... where am I? The room he found himself in was unfamiliar, opulent, decorated in a 60s style, like something out of an old aristocrat''s house. He couldn''t understand how he had gotten there.

    The man standing before him was unfamiliar too, speaking in a language Gaon didn''t recognize. It wasn''t just the language¡ªeverything felt wrong. He felt out of place, like he didn''t belong. His mind raced, but his body felt too weak to move.

    "??? ????? ??????? ? ??? ??? ?? ??? ?? ?? ??."

    Another voice, a woman''s, came next, full of concern, though the words were still a mystery to Gaon.

    "??? ????? ??????? ? ??? ??? ?? ??? ?? ?? ??."

    Gaon blinked, his heart racing. I don''t understand¡­ His thoughts were frantic. This is not reincarnation... This is transmigration...

    The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. This isn''t just some fantasy. This is real. I''ve been given another chance. But what now?

    Everything felt like a blur, and yet it was all so clear at the same time. Was it truly a second chance, or was he just trapped in another cycle of his own making?

 003 - A wish fulfilled?

    Seven months had passed for Gaon in the new body, in this unknown land. He lay on a wooden surface while a woman in her 60s carefully changed his clothes. He was still trapped in the body of an infant. As she removed his diaper, Gaon thought to himself, I guess it''s really not just a dream. I''ve transmigrated into the body of an infant.

    Although the language remained a mystery to him, he had begun to understand bits and pieces. First, my new name is Edmund. I still don''t know my full name since I spend all my time with my mom and nanny, named Agatha¡ªat least, that''s what my mom calls her. Both of them call me Ed or Edmund. No one addresses my mom by her name, so I don''t know that either. I''ve only met my father once, and that was the day someone forced my eyes open.

    Agatha paused after removing the diaper and began speaking to a man clad in a white robe.

    "? ? ? ? ????? ??????? ???? ??? ?? ????? ?? ?????, ??? Edmund ??? ?????????? ? ??rash ????," said Agatha.

    The man in the white robe replied, "?????''? ????? ?????? ??, ??''? ????? quite ????? ?? ? ????? baby ?? ?????????? ? ??rash."

    Gaon watched intently as the man approached him. Second, there is magic in this world, he thought as he felt relief flood his body and the rash on his skin healed instantly.

    "??? ??????," the healer murmured as he turned to leave. Agatha replied, "?????? ? ???," and the healer exited the room.

    After changing Edmund''s diaper and placing him back in the cradle, Agatha left as well.

    Third, I am a noble, Edmund thought with a grin. Fourth, technology here is far behind the world I came from. They''re still using paper diapers, hence the rash. He pulled a sour face. Well, that''s good for me. I can think of some basic technology from my time and earn a lot. I wouldn''t have to worry about anything and could laze around all day.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    A wide, stupid grin spread across his face. Ah, an easy life of a noble, just what I needed. I''ve been enjoying my time, even as a baby. I''m surrounded by beautiful people who lo¡ª

    Suddenly, a memory of his dad''s words came back to him¡ªthe time when his dad said he loved him, standing in their kitchen.

    I don''t need to think about my past anymore. It''s no point worrying about it. They''ve surely moved on. He shook his head aggressively, trying to push the thoughts away.

    Suddenly, strange noises broke through his thoughts¡ªthwacks, clanks, and screams.

    What''s going on? he thought, his face contorting in confusion. The noises grew louder¡ªfootsteps, the clash of swords, and desperate cries filled the air.

    The door burst open, revealing two guards along with his mother and Agatha.

    "?? ????? ?? ?????," Agatha said, her face filled with worry as she glanced out the window.

    "? ?????, ???? ????? ? ????? ????? ?????? ??? ??," said his mom, her voice trembling. Tears welled in her eyes as she forced a weak smile and gently lifted Edmund from the cradle.

    One of the guards bolted the door while the other tied a rope to the window, securing it tightly. Agatha began fastening a bedsheet to her back.

    "? ? ? ???? Edmund, ? ? ? ???? ??? ?? ? time ???????? ?? ???????, mommy ???? ??? Edmund, ??? ???? ????? ???," his mom said, her voice breaking.

    She held him close as the door rattled under the force of something pounding against it. The guards rushed to brace it, swords drawn.

    Agatha stepped forward, urgency in her voice. "?? ????''? ????? time," she said as she grabbed Edmund.

    "???????? ????? ??? ?? ???? ?????," said his mother, handing him to Agatha with trembling hands.

    Agatha nodded and replied firmly, "? ????." She tied Edmund securely to her back using the bedsheet and climbed out the window using the rope.

    As they descended, the sound of the door breaking down echoed above them, followed by the clash of swords and screams.

    Agatha hit the ground running, clutching Edmund tightly. As they fled, he looked back to see flames consuming most of the estate. The park where he had spent time in his mother''s arms was now ablaze.

    Tears streamed down Edmund''s face, but he tried to hold them back. Agatha didn''t stop, her focus solely on getting them to safety.

    Edmund stared back at the burning estate, his tiny heart heavy with fear and loss. What''s happening to this world?

 004 - A different life

    The icy wind howled as it raced through the narrow alleys of the slums, its chill sinking deep into the bones of those unlucky enough to call this place home. Snow covered the rooftops, caving in some of the weaker ones, while frost painted the windows of the more fortunate houses. This was a place where the sun seemed to hesitate to rise, where warmth was a distant memory¡ªa place Edmund, now Edward, would come to know as home.

    "Hold tight, child," Agatha whispered, pulling her thick, tattered shawl tighter around the small boy in her arms. The boy''s face, once filled with tears and confusion, was now pale and weary, his breaths coming out in soft, visible puffs in the freezing air.

    "Why is it so cold here, Grandma?" Edward asked, his voice trembling as he nestled closer to her chest.

    Agatha paused for a moment, her weathered face softening as she looked down at him. "The cold keeps the weak away," she said cryptically. "But you, Edward, are strong."

    Edward knew what she meant, he vaguely remembers his mom, and the luxury he was born in, he decided to keep it to himself as he trusted Agatha. The woman had given up everything in order to keep him alive and safe. His name, Edmund, even felt like it belonged to someone else. Here, in this new world, she was his everything. Her rough hands and stern voice carried the warmth of a fire in this otherwise frozen wasteland.

    They arrived at a ramshackle home at the edge of the slums. It was small, its wooden walls warped by years of frost and neglect, but it was sturdy enough to keep the worst of the cold at bay. Agatha nudged the door open with her shoulder, her arms still tightly wrapped around Edward.

    "Inside, quickly now," she said, her tone brisk. The boy obeyed, his small feet scurrying across the creaking floorboards. Agatha followed, shutting the door firmly behind them.

    The interior was sparse but surprisingly tidy. A single room served as the kitchen, bedroom, and sitting area. The only other space was a small storage closet. A humble fire crackled in the corner, its faint warmth a small relief against the bitter chill.

    "Sit here, by the fire," Agatha instructed, pointing to a woven mat. Edward did as he was told, watching as she rummaged through the kitchen area. She returned with a bowl of steaming soup, its aroma comforting despite its thinness.

    "Eat," she said, pressing the bowl into his hands. "It''s not much, but it''ll warm you up."

    Edward nodded, his small hands gripping the bowl tightly as he took careful sips. Agatha sat beside him, her stern expression softening as she watched him. For a brief moment, the cold seemed to retreat, leaving only the warmth of their small, shared space.

    Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The routines of the slums became their life. Agatha worked tirelessly, taking on odd jobs to keep them fed and the fire burning. Despite the hardship, she always found time for Edward. She taught him to fetch water from the frozen well, to patch the holes in their clothes, and to navigate the treacherous alleys of the slums.

    But more than that, she gave him love. It was in the way she ruffled his hair when he got something right, in the way she scolded him when he was careless, and in the way she held him close when the cold nights became too much.

    Edward, in turn, grew attached to her. He didn''t know why she cared for him so deeply or why she insisted he call her "Grandma," but he didn''t question it. In a world that seemed to offer nothing but cold and hardship, Agatha was his anchor.

    One evening, as the snow fell heavily outside, Edward sat by the fire, his small hands cupping a mug of weak tea. Agatha was mending one of his shirts, her needle moving deftly through the fabric.

    "Grandma," Edward began hesitantly, "why do we live here? Why don''t we go somewhere warmer?"

    Agatha looked up from her sewing, her sharp eyes meeting his. For a moment, she didn''t answer. Then, with a sigh, she set the shirt aside.

    "Edward," she said, her voice steady but tinged with a sadness he couldn''t quite place, "the world isn''t kind to people like us. There are places warmer than this, yes, but they come with their own dangers. Here, in the cold, we''re safe."

    "Safe from what?" he pressed.

    "From those who would take you from me," she said simply. "You''re special, Edward. More special than you know. And that makes you a target."

    Edward frowned, remembering the night Agatha ran with Edmund, the only reason he could think of being holed up here is that his family was being targeted.

    Life in the slums was hard, but it had its moments of light. Agatha made sure Edward had opportunities to learn and grow. She introduced him to a local teacher, a kind man named Mr. Delver, who taught children from the slums how to read, write, and do basic arithmetic, even being able to read and write was a big thing for commoners, as even the cost of a single paper was too much for a commoner to afford.

    "Education is the first step out of the cold," Agatha told Edward as she handed Mr. Delver a small pouch of coins. "Make the most of it."

    Edward found himself fascinated by the things Mr. Delver used to teach him, as this was the only way for Edward to learn about the new world he was in, even though this was the situation he still thinks of this as his second chance.

    "Grandma, did you know the House of Zephyrix rules the oceans?" he said one evening, his eyes bright with excitement as he pored over a tattered atlas. "And the House of Soltharion lives in a place just like this, but even colder!"

    Agatha chuckled softly. "Yes, the Soltharion are rulers of the land we live on, they are high above the peek of mountain from where all the cold blows down to here, nobles are very powerful," she said. "But remember, Edward, power isn''t everything. It''s what you do with it that matters."

    As the years passed, Edward learned the ways of the slums, how to avoid trouble, and how to make the most of what little they had. But through it all, Agatha remained his guiding star.

    One cold, clear night, as the two of them sat by the fire, Edward turned to her with a question that had been nagging at him.

    "Grandma," he said, "why do you love me?"

    Agatha looked at him, her weathered face illuminated by the flickering flames. She reached out, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

    "Because you''re my family," she said simply. "You''re my grandson. And I will love you until my last breath."

    Edward didn''t know what to say, he was unable to understand that why his nanny is so warm to him? Agatha raised Edmund s her own Grandkid , while filling the role of his father, mother both, without ever letting out or making Edward feel that he is Edmund. An overwhelming feeling swept in Edmund''s chest, he was happy that Agatha was with her, he said nothing . He buried his face in her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her love wash over him. In that moment, the cold outside didn''t matter. He was home.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The morning sun barely penetrated the thick gray clouds that hung over the slums, casting a muted, dreary light over the world. Edward stood outside their small home, brushing frost off a wooden bucket. His breath puffed in white clouds as he glanced at the long line of people waiting by the frozen well at the center of the settlement.

    "Don''t take too long, Edward," Agatha called from inside, her voice as firm as ever. "The fire won''t keep itself going."

    "I know, Grandma!" Edward replied, now 8 years old, grabbing the bucket and joining the queue. His fingers, already numb from the cold, clenched tightly around the wooden handle.

    As he waited, Edward''s mind wandered. He remembered the things Mr. Delver had told him during his lessons¡ªa world filled with magic, noble houses, and incredible power. A world that felt so far removed from the icy streets of the slums. He remembered that Mr. Delver told him how weather does not effect that much to people having mana, the more mana one has the sturdy their body will be against surroundings and diseases, hence those who do mana cultivation live an average life of 180yrs.

    Edward shifted on his feet, trying to keep warm. A group of soldiers stood nearby, they were the soldiers of a local viscount, given duty to maintain peace in slums. The soldiers donned collarless, pale blue tunics cut short at the sleeves, paired with breeches that clung snugly to their form. A mantle draped over their shoulders, to keep them dry.While other people present their were wearing layers over layers, Here theses soldiers are, not even wearing gloves, just laughing and having fun among themselves, as the cold have no effects on them.

    "Must be nice," Edward muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on soldiers. "To not feel cold all the time¡­"

    The soldiers noticed him staring. One of them, tall and wiry with a smug grin, stepped closer.

    "What''s the matter, runt?" the soldier sneered. "Wishing you could do this too?"

    Edward glared at him but said nothing.

    "You can''t, though," the boy continued, his tone mocking. "You''re just a commoner. And commoners who mess with mana¡ª"

    "¡ªdie," another soldier finished, laughing.

    Edward clenched his fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. He opened his mouth to retort, but the soldiers had already turned away, their laughter echoing as they walked off.

    ---

    That evening, Edward sat by the fire in their home, his face set in a troubled frown. Agatha was knitting in her usual chair, her sharp eyes flicking to him now and then.

    "Something on your mind, Edward?" she asked, her tone calm but probing.

    Edward hesitated. "Grandma¡­ why we use mana?"

    Agatha stilled, her knitting needles pausing mid-stitch. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she set the needles down and leaned forward, her expression serious.

    "Mana is not just a tool, Edward," she began, her voice low. "It''s a gift. One bestowed by the god Agraith upon the noble houses long ago. They claim it was meant only for them and the ones they choose."

    Edward frowned. "Why?"

    "Because they believe commoners are cursed," Agatha explained, her voice tinged with disdain. "They say we committed some great crime against Agraith, and as punishment, we were forbidden from wielding mana. If we try to use it without being given authority by one of the 6 houses¡ª"

    "We die," Edward finished, recalling the boys'' taunts.

    Agatha nodded. "It''s not just a tale to scare children. Mana is a living force, Edward. It''s not something to take lightly."

    "But that''s not fair!" Edward burst out, his frustration spilling over. "Why should they get to have all the power while we freeze and starve?"

    Agatha''s eyes softened, but her tone remained firm. "Life isn''t fair, Edward. But fairness isn''t what you should be chasing. Strength, resilience¡ªthose will serve you better."

    Edward fell silent, his mind racing. Things as they are were not making any sense, he was a noble, can he use mana?, And how does the 6 houses have the power to grant this boon, to override the curse?

    The idea of commoners being bound by a curse, of being denied something so vital, filled him with resentment. But beneath that anger lay something else¡ªan ember of curiosity, one he couldn''t ignore.

    ---

    The next day, Edward attended his lessons with Mr. Delver. The kind teacher had prepared a new set of maps for the students, detailing the various terrains ruled by the noble houses. Edward poured over the maps, his fingers tracing the lines of rivers, mountains, and deserts.

    "Mr. Delver," Edward asked, raising his hand, "do all the noble houses use mana the same way?"

    The teacher smiled, his wrinkled face lighting up at the question. "Not at all, Edward. Each house has its own unique connection to mana, shaped by their terrain and history."

    He pointed to a map showing a vast expanse of ocean. "Take the House of Zephyrix, for example. Their mastery over water and the sea is unparalleled. They can command tides, summon storms, and even communicate with marine creatures."

    Edward''s eyes widened as Mr. Delver moved to another map, this one showing towering mountains. "And the House of Aerithis¡ªmasters of the sky. They wield the wind, conjure storms, and soar through the heavens as if they were birds."

    As Mr. Delver continued, describing the Verdant Expanse of Lumeris, the icy tundras of Soltharion, and the Sunscrouge waste of Vyrnspire, Edward felt his world expand. The noble houses were more than just oppressors; they were forces of nature, wielding powers that seemed almost divine.

    "But what about commoners?" Edward asked, unable to hold back the question. "If we were granted authority to use mana from a house, are we bounded to use the type of magic that the house use? Or is there something else?"

    Mr. Delver''s smiled, "It''s upto you Edward, although the house follows a similar type of magic, it does not mean that everyone in that terrain also uses the same magic" he said gently. "Let''s take the glacial expanse as an example, the land we are on, Although around 80% of people who use mana here use magic resonating to ice, to make weapons and structure out of ice, but there are also people who uses other magic, sand, air, water, healing magic body strengthening, we also have illusion magic," Mr. Delver took a brief pause and said,""Fire magic is the toughest known, people are able to make sparks, to light fire, but that''s it".

    Although some of the question of Edward were answered, he was just filled with more, "Can a person learn two types of magic?" Edwar immediately said again "and How can we be granted authority by one of the six houses?"

    Mr. Delver said "well to answer your first question, yes, you can learn two or more type of magic at once, infact the head of Anti-demon vanguard have learnt each and every type of magic completely" after a brief pause he said "but the heads were exception, the person who becomes the head will be granted this boon, for everyone else, they can learn the magic but it''s really hard to do mastery in them"

    "As for your second question" Mr. Delver said seriously "To receive the authority means you have to either something so outstanding that you will be granted a title, even if it''s baron, you will be granted the authority, or, you can enlist to work as soldier for a viscount or above, and once a year the boon are granted to all the new recruits, but you will have to sign a loyalty contract for that"

    "Edward" Mr Delver said seriously as he was worried, "The nobles'' stories may be exaggerated, but they''re not entirely untrue. Commoners are cursed to die if they use mana without proper authority, even childrens of noble are restricted to use mana as mana is a force that requires great stability¡ªphysical, mental, and emotional. Without it, the results can be catastrophic."

    Edward nodded, but his mind was already turning. Stability? I''m stable enough, aren''t I? And I''m not really a commoner¡­ Am I?

    ---

    That night, as Edward lay on his makeshift bed, he was not able to believe that he was in a new world, "magic is here in this world, I am sure I will have the authority to control all the magic in this world, there might be some reason god chose me to transmigrate, but how to start, I have not yet seen anyone performing magic till now, just some healing magic, that''s all I have seen¡­ ehh I will worry about it later"

    "I''ll find a way, somehow" he whispered to himself.

    The cold wind rattled the shutters, but Edward barely noticed, he fall asleep beside his grandma while thinking how the rest of the world will be like outside this slum.

 005 - Pricking chains

    Inside the small, decrepit house, Edward, now twelve years old, sat with his back straight and legs crossed. The freezing cold that seeped through the crumbling wooden walls didn''t seem to bother him. He wore a ragged, collarless black tunic with sleeves cut short and a pair of tattered shorts. His breathing was deep and controlled, his eyes shut tight as he sat motionless on the wooden floor, oblivious to the icy drafts slipping in through the countless cracks in the walls.

    Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a frail, old woman stepped inside. Her eyes widened in confusion and fear as they landed on Edward. It was Agatha, now 76 years old, her body bent and weakened by the harsh years. The sight of Edward sitting there, completely unaffected by the cold, sent alarm bells ringing in her mind.

    "Edward!" she gasped.

    Edward''s eyes snapped open. Panic flashed across his face as he jumped to his feet and scrambled to hide himself under the thin bedding. But Agatha was no fool¡ªshe knew exactly what he had been doing. Without a word, she rushed past him, her frail frame moving with surprising urgency, and headed to the corner of the room. There, a large metal trunk sat, its edges worn from years of use.

    With trembling hands, she flung open the trunk and began rummaging through its contents. The sound of clattering metal and rustling fabric filled the room as Edward watched from the corner, still clutching the bedding around him in a futile attempt to hide.

    Moments later, Agatha turned and hurried back to Edward, holding a thick book in her hands. Her face was etched with a mix of anger and desperation as she grabbed Edward''s arm and pulled him to his feet.

    "Where is it?" she demanded, her voice loud and shaking with fury.

    "What happened, Grandma?" Edward asked hesitantly, his voice trembling under the weight of her anger.

    But Agatha wasn''t interested in his questions. "Where is it? Tell me now!" she shouted, her eyes boring into his.

    Edward had never seen her like this before. Her anger was raw, unlike anything he had witnessed in the years they had spent together. He swallowed hard, his body stiff as he reached into the bedding and pulled out the book he had been hiding. He held it out to her, his hand shaking slightly.

    Agatha snatched the book without another word and stormed back to the trunk. She shoved the book inside and slammed the lid shut with a loud thud. Then, turning back to Edward, she approached him with a mix of anger and disappointment on her face.

    "What were you doing with this?" she demanded, her voice trembling but firm. "You know commoners and children cannot practice mana! Why would you do something so dangerous?"

    Edward opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. "I break my back every single day, traveling and sewing clothes just so you can learn from Mr. Delver, just so you can have a chance to leave this slum someday. And this¡ªthis is what you do? You skip his classes to do something so reckless?"

    Her voice cracked as she continued, "You''re a commoner, Edward. You cannot practice mana without the authority of one of the six houses. You know this!"

    For a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. But something inside Edward snapped. He had reached his breaking point.

    "I''m not," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible.

    Agatha froze, her confusion plain on her face. "What... what did you say?" she asked, her voice trembling.

    Edward looked up at her, his frustration and anger spilling out like a dam that had burst. "I''m not a commoner!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the small room.

    Agatha took a step back, her eyes wide with disbelief. "How... how do you know that?"

    "I remember," Edward said, his voice cold and steady. "I remember the night you ran away with me on your back."

    Agatha''s breath hitched, and she shook her head, her frail hands trembling. "But you were¡ª"

    "I wasn''t too young to remember!" Edward interrupted, his frustration boiling over. "I''m not a commoner. I''m not cursed by Agraith. I want to learn mana. I want to leave this freezing slum! But you¡ªyou''ve chained me here!"

    His voice cracked as he continued, "Twelve years, Grandma. Twelve years, and I''ve never seen a single warm day. I''ve never stepped foot outside this slum. If being your grandson means I have to stay chained to this place forever, then I don''t want to be your grandson!"

    Agatha''s eyes filled with tears, but before she could respond, Edward grabbed his tattered cloak and stormed toward the door.

    "Edward! Wait! Edward!" she called out, her voice breaking with desperation. But he didn''t stop. He didn''t even look back.

    He ran through the snow-covered streets, the icy wind stinging his face as tears streamed down his cheeks. His feet carried him toward the forest at the base of the nearby mountain, a place he had always found solace. The snow-laden trees loomed overhead as he made his way to a small, empty cave hidden among the rocks.

    Outside the cave, a pile of snow concealed a makeshift bedding he had stashed there long ago. He dug through the snow with trembling hands, revealing a bundle wrapped in a cloak and leaves. He dragged it into the cave, placed it on the cold ground, and threw his cloak over it before sitting down with a heavy sigh.

    His anger still burned, but guilt had begun to creep in, eating away at him. "Ahhh... I shouldn''t have said that," he muttered under his breath, burying his face in his hands.

    The silence of the cave enveloped him as he sat there, the weight of his words pressing down on him. Slowly, his mind drifted back to the past, to the memories of everything that had brought him here.

    Here''s the revised version of your text in a webnovel style:

    About a month after Edward learned the consequences of practicing mana, Agatha handed him a small pouch of coins. She was healthier back then, her frailness still years away, and her sharp eyes carried a mixture of hope and determination.

    "Take this to Mr. Delver," she said, pressing the pouch into his hands. "And study hard, Edward. I work every day so you can have a better future."

    Edward nodded, gripping the pouch tightly. "Okay, Grandma," he replied earnestly before stepping out into the biting cold.

    As he made his way through the snow-dusted streets toward Mr. Delver''s home, a sudden impact on his back startled him. He spun around to see two familiar faces¡ªJin and Shane, his friends from the slum.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    "Yo, Ed! What''re you up to?" Jin called out, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

    "I''m on my way to Mr. Delver''s," Edward replied.

    "Ehh, come on, Ed! You''re always studying. Play hooky for once," Jin teased, tossing another snowball lightly in his hand.

    Shane, the quieter of the two, piped up. "We''ve got an idea, Ed. Let''s go to the forest. I heard a portal appeared there recently."

    "Portal?" Edward echoed, his curiosity piqued.

    Portals were infamous phenomena in this world, gateways that allowed monsters to cross over. Not all monsters emerged from the portals immediately, as many wandered within its depths. To close a portal, human forces had to venture inside, exterminating every creature within. Only then would the portal collapse.

    Shane continued, "The Viscount''s knights already dealt with it, but there might still be some monster remains left behind. We could find something cool!"

    Edward hesitated. The thought of exploring the remnants of a portal was tempting. His curiosity about the workings of this strange world had only grown since his arrival, and the chance to witness a trace of its mysteries was too alluring to ignore.

    "All right," he said, finally relenting. "But only for a little while."

    The trio made their way to the forest, the trees towering over them like frozen sentinels. Snow blanketed the ground, muffling their footsteps as they searched for anything the knights might have overlooked. They decided to split up to cover more ground.

    Jin, ever the energetic one, found a grotesque black finger with a long, claw-like nail¡ªlikely belonging to a monster. Shane stumbled across a monstrous eye, round and serpentine, larger than any human''s. Edward, however, discovered something far more significant. As he wandered deeper into the forest, he stumbled upon a small, secluded cave. Its entrance was partially hidden by a snowdrift, but something about it called to him.

    It was quiet, untouched, and for reasons he couldn''t explain, it felt like a safe haven.

    After a while, the boys regrouped and decided to head back to the slum. Edward, however, returned home with an uneasy realization¡ªhe had lost the pouch of money Agatha had given him. Panic set in as he searched his pockets and retraced his steps in his mind. It was gone.

    Desperate to avoid her wrath, Edward spent the next day searching their home for anything he could use to replace the lost coins. The house was small and sparsely furnished, consisting of a single open area that served as both a kitchen and bedroom, with only a separate bathroom attached.

    It didn''t take long to search every corner, but no money turned up. Finally, his eyes landed on the metal trunk in the corner of the room¡ªthe same trunk Agatha often guarded so closely.

    Driven by desperation, Edward opened the trunk. Among its contents, he found something unexpected¡ªa book titled "Mana Cultivation."

    His heart raced as he ran his fingers over the cover. He opened it, his eyes scanning the first page. A bold warning was scrawled in large letters:

    "CAUTION: Children below 17 should not use this method due to the risk of mana poisoning from emotional fluctuations. Commoners will die if authority has not been granted to them by one of the Six House."

    Edward chuckled under his breath, his curiosity outweighing his fear. "They care more about noble children than commoners without authority, huh?"

    He sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through the pages. As he read, a grin spread across his face.

    "Well," he thought smugly, "I''m not exactly a commoner. And technically, I''m not a kid either. If I count the years from my previous life..."

    His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of quiet disappointment. "...That would make me forty."

    With a deep sigh, Edward leaned back against the wall, staring at the book in his hands.

    Four years had passed since that day. Edward sat quietly in the familiar cave, "I just told Mr. Delver that we couldn''t pay, and he never said anything. Dodged a bullet there," Edward muttered to himself, a wry grin crossing his face.

    As the night crept in, the chilling wind rustled through the forest outside. Edward stood, brushing the dust off his ragged cloak. "I should head back," he murmured, repositioning the bedding exactly as he had found it. He turned and started toward the slum.

    The walk back was silent, except for the crunch of snow underfoot. Midway, he spotted familiar figures ahead¡ªJin and Shane, their backs turned toward him.

    "Hey," Edward greeted, raising a hand.

    "Ed! Where''ve you been?" Jin called, turning to face him. "Grandma Agatha has been looking all over for you. She even went to Mr. Delver''s! You should hurry back."

    Edward sighed deeply. "Haaaa... I just got into a fight with her. I''ll head back now," he replied nonchalantly.

    "C''mon, man," Jin said with a frown. "Rule number one to survive in the slums: take care of your family."

    "Yeah, yeah, I''m going. Don''t lecture me," Edward said, waving him off before continuing toward home.

    When Edward opened the door, the dim glow of a single candle near the bed illuminated the room. His grandmother lay there, her frail form barely visible in the flickering light.

    "Grandma?" Edward called out, worry etching into his voice as he rushed to her side.

    "Haha, nothing to worry about, dear," she said weakly, trying to sit up. "Just a light fever. I wasn''t feeling well, so I came back early from work."

    "Don''t push yourself, Grandma," Edward said, gently easing her back onto the bed. "Just rest."

    "Have you eaten anything?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

    "Yes, yes," she replied with a weak smile. "I''ve eaten plenty today. I''m sorry I couldn''t make you dinner."

    Edward''s brow furrowed. "That means no. You haven''t eaten anything." He stood abruptly. "I''ll make something for you."

    He moved toward the small hearth, gathering the meager ingredients they had to prepare a simple pottage¡ªa thick vegetable soup. As the soup simmered, the scent filled the room, faintly warming the cold atmosphere. Edward returned to the bed with a steaming bowl and a spoon.

    "Ah, if I knew I''d get to eat my grandson''s cooking, I would''ve fallen sick sooner," Agatha teased, her laugh barely audible.

    "Don''t joke, Grandma," Edward said with a smile as he offered a spoonful. "Here, eat."

    Agatha turned her head away playfully. "How can I eat when you''re still hungry? You eat first."

    Edward chuckled softly. "Let''s eat together," he said, taking a spoonful himself before offering her the next.

    She smiled weakly, her eyes glimmering with pride. "Different spoons, dear. Who''ll take care of me if you fall sick too?" she scolded gently.

    "I won''t fall sick, Grandma. Remember, I have mana," Edward replied with a small grin.

    "Yes, yes, you do," Agatha said, her voice faint but warm, as she finally took the soup.

    The two ate in silence, the quiet punctuated only by the occasional clink of the spoon against the bowl. When they were finished, Edward helped Agatha lie back down and began cleaning the dishes.

    "Edward," she called out weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

    "Yes, Grandma?" he replied without turning.

    "I know I''m not your blo¡ª"

    Edward froze, the plate in his hand slipping slightly. "Why are you saying this, Grandma?" he interrupted, his voice tinged with panic. "I''m sorry for what I said earlier. I''m really sorry."

    "Please, let me finish," Agatha said softly, her tone carrying a strange finality.

    Edward walked to her side, taking her hand in his.

    She took a deep breath before continuing. "Your real name is Edmund Hawthorne. Your mother was Elowen Hawthorne of the Valliswood family. Your father was a baron, as was your mother. Though they were minor nobles, in a single night, both families were destroyed. I don''t know why or by whom, but it was powerful enough to erase them entirely."

    Edward sat silently, his grip tightening on her hand.

    "To keep you safe," Agatha continued, her voice faltering, "your mother had no choice but to send you away. With a heavy heart, she entrusted you to me. I came here, to this frozen slum, and gave you a new name so no one would find you. I''ve tried to hide you from the world ever since."

    Tears welled in Edward''s eyes as he listened, his heart aching with the weight of her words.

    "Promise me, Edward," she said, her hand trembling in his. "Promise me you won''t tell anyone about this. If they find out who you are, you''ll be in grave danger."

    Edward nodded, his voice breaking as he replied, "I promise, Grandma. I promise I''ll listen to everything you say. I''ll study hard, go to Mr. Delver''s every day, and get us out of this slum. Just... just get well soon."

    But the room was silent.

    Edward''s heart sank as the realization hit him. The faint wheezing of her breaths was no longer there.

    "Grandma?" he whispered, shaking her hand lightly. "Grandma?"

    Tears streamed down his face as he stood, his body trembling.

    "Why?" he cried quietly, his voice breaking with despair. Then louder: "Why? Why? Why? Why does this always happen to me? Why? Why does everyone I love leave me? Why am I cursed? Why? Why? Why?"

    The questions poured out in a relentless stream, his anguished cries filling the small, dark room. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor beside her, gripping the edge of the bed.

    Then, a chilling silence.

    His breathing slowed, and his tears subsided, leaving only an empty hollowness in their wake.

    "Ahhh," Edward muttered, his voice eerily calm. "It''s me... It''s all my fault."

    His vision blurred as exhaustion overtook him. With a soft thud, Edward slumped forward, collapsing beside his grandmother''s lifeless form. The dim candlelight flickered one last time before plunging the room into darkness.

 006 - The sun of the cold slums

    Thud. Thud. The sound of someone banging on the door echoed through the small, silent house.

    Edward lay motionless on the wooden floor, unconscious from the events of the night before.

    Thud. Thud.

    "Edward! Open the door, it''s me, Delver!" The voice called from outside, louder and more desperate.

    Edward stirred faintly, his eyelids flickering open. His vision blurred, and the first thing he saw was his grandmother lying on the bed. From his position on the floor, he was facing her feet, wrapped snugly in the blanket that covered her small frame.

    "Ugh... Mr. Delver," Edward muttered groggily, his head still heavy. Mustering his strength, he sat up slowly, his movements sluggish.

    The memories of last night hit him like a tidal wave. His heart sank as realization dawned. "It wasn''t a dream," he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling. A single tear slid down his nose and fell to the floor. "Grandma," he whispered, his voice breaking.

    Thud. Thud.

    "Edward, please open the door!" Mr. Delver''s voice came again, more insistent than before.

    Without a word, Edward pushed himself to his feet. His legs felt like lead as he trudged to the door, his face blank and emotionless. He didn''t dare look at his grandmother''s face, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.

    The sunlight streaming through the cracks in the window painted the room in hues of orange, marking the day''s slow descent into evening. Edward opened the door, and the chill of the outside air swept in.

    "Why weren''t you opening the door? I was wo¡ª" Mr. Delver stopped mid-sentence. His words faltered as his eyes took in Edward''s expression¡ªa hollow, lifeless gaze on the face of a 12-year-old boy who had just experienced something terrible.

    Mr. Delver peeked past Edward into the dimly lit room, his stomach sinking as his worst fear was confirmed. Agatha lay motionless on the bed, wrapped in her blanket.

    Edward walked back into the house silently and sank down near Agatha''s bed. His empty gaze locked onto her feet, the only part of her visible from where he sat. He didn''t move, didn''t blink.

    Mr. Delver entered cautiously, his voice filling the space as he spoke, trying to reach the boy. "Edward... Edward!" he called out, raising his voice slightly each time.

    "Edward."

    This time, the boy blinked. Slowly, he shifted his focus to Mr. Delver, but his face remained void of expression.

    "I''ve taken care of everything," Mr. Delver said gently. "The funeral will be held tomorrow morning."

    Edward didn''t respond, his eyes drifting back to his grandmother''s feet. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed. Night had fallen by the time Mr. Delver broke the silence again.

    "I''m sorry, Edward," he said, his voice heavy with guilt. "I just saw her yesterday. She seemed fine."

    Edward thought to himself, I''ve been unconscious for half a day...

    "It was tetanus," Mr. Delver continued. "There wasn''t anything we could have done... I''m so sorry."

    Tetanus? Edward''s thoughts spiraled. Did she get it while working for the tailor? How could something so easily curable back on Earth claim her life here?

    Why didn''t we have doctors? Why were healers so far out of reach for people like us?

    His chest tightened as guilt and frustration consumed him. If I had known how to use mana better... if I wasn''t so useless... could I have saved her?

    "Edward." Mr. Delver''s soft voice broke through his thoughts. He crouched down to meet the boy''s eyes.

    "I know this is hard for you," he said gently. "She was your only family. You loved her, and she loved you. But because of that love, I know you want to send her off in a way that honors her. She deserves a proper funeral, Edward. I need you to be there. Do you understand?"This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Edward''s lips trembled as he nodded slightly. "Yes," he whispered, barely audible.

    "Edward, should we bury Ms. Agatha in the cemetery, or is there someplace else you''d prefer?"

    After a moment of silence, Edward whispered, "The cave."

    That night, Mr. Delver stayed with Edward and Agatha. Most of the hours passed in silence. Occasionally, Mr. Delver spoke about Agatha''s strength, her kindness, and the sacrifices she had made. He shared stories of how she had touched the lives of so many in the slum.

    As dawn broke, Mr. Delver returned with four others, carrying shovels, ropes, and a wooden casket.

    "Edward, go with them to prepare the burial site. We''ll bring Ms. Agatha there," Mr. Delver said gently.

    Edward nodded but turned to the trunk in the corner of the room. He opened it and rummaged through its contents until he found a ragged white bedsheet. Though worn and torn, the cloth was of fine quality.

    "Wrap Grandma in this," Edward said quietly. "It''s special to us." His voice trembled as he held the cloth, memories flooding back.

    It was the same bedsheet Agatha had used to tie little Edmund to her back when they fled their home all those years ago. The memory of her strength in that moment hit Edward like a wave, and he passed the sheet to Mr. Delver with shaking hands.

    Mr. Delver took the sheet with care. "We will," he promised.

    Edward left with two men to the cave. Inside, he pointed to a secluded corner. "Here," he said softly.

    The men began digging in silence. Edward knelt beside them and started clearing dirt with his hands.

    "You don''t have to do this," one of the men said gently.

    Edward shook his head. "I want to. It''s the least I can do for her."

    The burial site was finally ready after hours of quiet, somber work. Edward wiped the dirt off his hands and trudged toward the entrance of the forest to wait for the others.

    To his surprise, when he arrived, nearly the entire village had gathered. The slum''s residents, despite their hardships, had come to pay their respects to Agatha. Even Jin and Shane were there, each holding flowers.

    Edward didn''t know how to react. His head tilted downward as he shuffled toward Mr. Delver. "The grave is ready," he said softly, his voice barely audible.

    Mr. Delver nodded and gently patted Edward''s head.

    No one in the crowd spoke as the casket was brought forward. It had no lid yet; Jin and Shane carried the lid separately, their youthful faces set with determination. Though others had offered to help, the boys had insisted. Agatha had treated them like family, often feeding and caring for them as if they were her own grandchildren.

    When the procession reached the cave, the casket was placed beside the burial site Edward had helped dig. The lid was propped up against its side.

    Mr. Delver turned to Edward and said softly, "You chose a good place for her."

    Edward didn''t respond, his gaze fixed on the ground.

    Mr. Delver then addressed the gathered villagers. "If anyone wishes to say a few words to Agatha, now is the time."

    One by one, the villagers stepped forward, placing flowers near Agatha''s body and speaking their heartfelt thanks.

    "Thank you for giving us warmth in this cold slum, not only by providing us firewood but also with your heart," said one.

    "Thank you for mending our clothes every time you saw a tear or a hole, without ever asking for anything in return," said another.

    Even Jin and Shane approached the grave, their voices trembling as they spoke.

    "Thank you for giving us delicious meals whenever we came to play with Edward. We''ll miss your cooking," Jin said, his hands clutching the flowers tightly.

    "Thank you for caring for us like your own grandson. We''ll never forget how you reprimanded us whenever we misbehaved," Shane added, tears welling in his eyes.

    The word most spoken was "Thank you." Agatha''s selflessness had touched every life in the slum. Her unwavering kindness and determination had left an indelible mark.

    The flowers placed around her formed a beautiful, colorful wreath¡ªa rare sight in the slum. Flowers were a luxury, often too expensive to obtain, especially in such a harsh climate. But every villager had managed to bring at least one, a testament to the deep respect and love they held for Agatha.

    At last, only Edward and Mr. Delver remained. Mr. Delver gestured to Jin, who approached with two flowers: one red and one white.

    The red flower was handed to Mr. Delver, while the white¡ªthe rarest and most precious¡ªwas given to Edward.

    Edward realized that Mr. Delver had helped the villagers gather the flowers, quietly arranging for the slum to come together for this moment.

    Mr. Delver stepped forward, placing the red flower gently on Agatha''s chest. "Thank you to the strongest person I knew," he said solemnly. "You taught me what self-respect truly means."

    He then turned to Edward. The boy''s head was still bowed, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

    "If you don''t say anything now, you''ll regret it for the rest of your life," Mr. Delver said softly. "It''s your choice¡ªspeak, or close the lid."

    Edward stepped forward, the white flower trembling in his hand. He knelt by the casket and placed the flower on Agatha''s chest, right next to the red one.

    "Thank you, Grandma," he whispered, his voice cracking.

    For the first time, he forced himself to look at her face. Her wrinkles seemed deeper, her features smaller than he remembered, but her expression was serene, as though she had found peace at last.

    Edward''s throat tightened, his chest heaved, and tears spilled freely down his face. "Thank you, Grandma... for keeping me safe," he said, his voice barely audible.

    He clenched his fists, fighting to suppress the sobs threatening to overwhelm him. The fear of mana poisoning loomed in his mind, but the emotions were too strong to hold back entirely. A single tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another.

    With trembling hands, Edward helped Mr. Delver close the casket. Together, they used ropes to lower it gently into the ground.

    The villagers silently helped fill the grave, packing the soil with care. Finally, a wooden plank was placed at the head, engraved with an epitaph that Mr. Delver had arranged:

    "Agatha, The Sun of the Cold Slums."

 007 - The departure

    In a bustling city, a middle-aged woman stood behind the counter of a small bakery. She had a white cloth wrapped around her head and another draped over her clothes, marking her as a baker. She appeared to be in her 40s, her figure slightly chubby but warm and welcoming.

    The shelves were empty now, the day''s work nearly done. Outside, the fading light signaled the approaching night. She handed over the final order to a well-dressed woman who smiled as she took the neatly packed goods.

    "Thank you," the well-dressed woman said politely.

    "Please come again!" the baker responded with a bright smile, retreating her hand.

    As the customer left, the baker stepped from behind the counter, made her way to the door, and closed it. The shop was now silent, save for the faint hum of the ovens cooling down. She returned to the counter and began counting the coins she''d collected for the day.

    "This should be enough," she thought with a content smile, placing the coins into a large pouch. Carrying it to the back, she entered the kitchen, where a young man stood kneading dough, his back to her.

    "Edward," she called softly.

    The young man turned, revealing a well-defined face framed by jet-black hair and dark eyes. His athletic build spoke of strength despite the humble setting, and his demeanor carried a quiet confidence.

    "All sold?" Edward asked with a smile, his hands still working the dough.

    "Yes, thanks to you," the woman replied with a pleasant grin.

    Edward chuckled. "I''m almost done with this. Just one last batch."

    The woman hesitated, then asked, "Are you sure you don''t want to work here anymore?"

    Her voice carried a note of disappointment, but Edward replied with a faint smile, "Yeah. I''m actually leaving the Glacial Expanse."

    The baker''s expression shifted to concern. "And where will you go?" she asked.

    "I don''t know yet," Edward replied, finally finishing his kneading. He turned fully to face her. "I guess... wherever fate takes me."

    The woman approached him, holding out the pouch of coins she had counted earlier. "Here. Take this."

    Edward frowned as he looked at the hefty pouch. "But this is more than what I''ve earned."

    The woman reached for his hand, gently placing the pouch into it. "Keep it," she said firmly. "It will help you on your journey. Besides, you''ve earned this and more. If not for you, I wouldn''t have been able to gather so many coins in the first place. Your idea to use curd instead of barm to make bread, and that buttercream frosting you invented... even nobles have started visiting this place because of you."

    Edward''s lips curved into a small smile. "Thank you," he said softly, pocketing the pouch.

    They spent the next few moments cleaning the shop and locking up. As they exchanged goodbyes, Edward''s gaze lingered on the woman who had become a significant part of his life in the city. Finally, he turned and left, heading back toward the slums.

    Edward stood before his home, staring at the dim light of a candle flickering inside. Voices carried faintly through the deteriorated walls, but he didn''t move. After a long moment, he turned away and walked off without stepping inside.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    His destination was Mr. Delver''s house. The home had undergone many renovations over the years, making it a much more comfortable place. Edward opened the door and stepped inside.

    "I''m home," Edward called out, his voice calm but distant.

    "Welcome back!" came Mr. Delver''s warm voice from another room. "Dinner is ready. Freshen up before supper."

    Without a word, Edward removed his cloak, hanging it neatly on the coat rack near the door. He ascended the stairs to his room, removed his outer layers, and washed his hands and face. Sitting on the bed, his expression betrayed the turmoil within. His gaze fell on the pouch of coins that had fallen onto the floor with his clothes.

    Edward picked it up and muttered to himself, "I would have earned so much more if it weren''t for needing approval from nobles for every new business or invention."

    Before his thoughts could wander further, the sound of the main gate opening broke through the silence. Voices followed, familiar and lively. Edward placed the pouch on the table and descended the stairs to see who it was.

    "Here he is!" Jin''s cheerful voice rang out as he spotted Edward at the top of the stairs.

    "Hi, Ed!" Shane chimed in, grinning.

    Edward''s brows furrowed in confusion as he approached the pair. "What brings you two here?" he asked.

    "I invited them," Mr. Delver said, emerging from the room behind Edward.

    "Yeah, bro!" Jin added, slinging an arm over Edward''s shoulder. "We have to celebrate your birthday properly. No way are you leaving us behind without saying goodbye!"

    The group burst into laughter and made their way to the dining room. The evening was filled with chatter, laughter, and the cutting of a modest cake. Mr. Delver brought out ale for the boys, who enjoyed it as the night wore on. Eventually, Jin and Shane departed, leaving Edward and Mr. Delver alone at the table.

    The atmosphere grew quieter, and an eerie silence settled between the two. Edward leaned back slightly, a faint buzz from the ale evident in his relaxed posture. Across from him, Mr. Delver leaned forward, his hands resting on the table.

    "So, you haven''t changed your mind?" Mr. Delver finally asked.

    Edward straightened and shook his head. "No... I''m sorry, Mr. Delver."

    Mr. Delver chuckled. "It''s been five years. You still haven''t dropped the ''Mr.''"

    Edward''s gaze fell, his thoughts momentarily distant. After Agatha''s death, he had built walls around himself, afraid of the pain that came with attachment. He never grew close to anyone again, including Mr. Delver, despite the older man''s care.

    Unbeknownst to Mr. Delver, Edward had spent years secretly practicing mana, driven by a desire to uncover the truth about his identity. He wanted answers to the questions that haunted him: Who am I? Was he Edward? Edmund? Gaon? He needed to understand what had happened to the Hawthorne and Valliswood families and his mother.

    Edward''s desire to leave the slums wasn''t just about escaping its harsh conditions¡ªit was about finding closure. But each time he tried to leave, Mr. Delver stopped him, even intercepting his secretive attempts. Finally, they struck a deal: Edward could leave once he turned 17.

    The morning light spilled into the house as Edward stood by the gate, a bag slung over his shoulder.

    "Did you pack warm clothes and enough food?" Mr. Delver asked, approaching him.

    "Yes, Mr. Delver," Edward replied with a faint smile.

    The older man held out a cloth-wrapped object. "Take this. It will help you on your journey."

    Edward unwrapped it carefully, revealing a finely crafted dagger with a sheath. The blade bore an engraving of three rings crossing to form a star.

    "Thank you," Edward said sincerely.

    Mr. Delver stepped forward and hugged him tightly, his voice thick with emotion. "Take care, son."

    Edward hesitated, but then wrapped his arms around Mr. Delver in return. "I will."

    They broke apart, and Edward smiled faintly. "Goodbye."

    Mr. Delver shook his head. "Not goodbye¡ªsee you soon."

    Edward nodded and turned, walking away.

    In the cave that housed Agatha''s grave, Edward stood silently. His gaze rested on the simple marker, his thoughts heavy.

    "Hi, Grandma," he said softly. "I won''t be able to come back for a while. I know you told me to stay safe, and I will. But I need to know who I am."

    He paused, his voice trembling slightly. "Whatever I find out... I know one thing for sure¡ªI''m your grandson, and I''m proud of it." With a slight pause Edward started saying "Goo~" but abruptly paused

    Edward chuckled lightly, his eyes moist. "See you soon," he added, placing a white flower on her grave.

    As he left the cave, the light of dawn cast a warm glow over the snow-laden slums. Edward stepped forward, ready to face the unknown.

 008 - Echoes in the snow

    The cold was harsh, even during the day. As far as the eye could see, everything was covered in snow. It blanketed every rock and every part of the land. There were no signs of life¡ªno animals, no trees, nothing.

    Edward walked through the thick snow, moving slowly, his legs sinking with each step. He muttered to himself, ¡°Ugh, I¡¯m so hungry.¡± The snow reached up to his calves, making it even harder to move. Suddenly, he felt something hard under his foot.

    Curious, he bent down and brushed away the snow, revealing a large chunk of meat. It looked like it had been ripped from some creature, with bones sticking out from one side. Edward sniffed it cautiously. ¡°Sniff, sniff.¡± His face twisted in disgust, and he quickly covered his nose. ¡°Ew, it smells terrible!¡±

    His stomach growled loudly, ¡°Gurggggle,¡± reminding him of how hungry he was. He stared at the meat, unsure what to do. Could this be monster meat? Or maybe it¡¯s rotten¡­ He remembered what Mr. Delver had once told him:

    "Monster meat is filled with mana. Soldiers collect it to make magic tools, but eating it is dangerous. The high mana and impurities will poison you."

    Edward frowned, his stomach growling again. He didn¡¯t want to risk it, but hunger was making him desperate. ¡°Maybe if I just try a tiny piece¡­¡± he said to himself. Slowly, he brought the meat to his mouth and bit off a small piece.

    The moment he chewed it, his face turned pale. He spat it out and threw the meat far away, coughing and gagging. ¡°It tastes like rotten eggs mixed with bugs!¡± He fell to his knees, vomiting in the snow. Even just looking at the meat made him gag again.

    He collapsed on his back, groaning. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have done that,¡± he muttered, staring up at the gray sky. Lying there, he started to think about how he ended up in this terrible situation.

    After leaving the slums, Edward had checked his map. The slums were surrounded by mountains, with only one open path leading to the Skyward Peaks or the ocean. He had no clear destination in mind, so he decided to head for the Skyward Peaks. However, to reach them, he would have to circle around the Glacial Expanse mountains and travel across the plains¡ªa journey that would take at least five days.

    ¡°Why not just climb the mountain instead?¡± Edward had thought to himself. ¡°It¡¯s a much shorter route. It¡¯ll only take three days at most.¡± He had considered the risks but dismissed them quickly. ¡°Commoners go around the mountains because they can¡¯t handle the cold. But nobles and even rookie soldiers live here just fine. I¡¯ll manage.¡±

    With that, Edward started his climb. At first, the cold wasn¡¯t too bad. The real problem was hunger. He had only packed enough food for one day and didn¡¯t refill before starting the climb. Worse, the mountains had no proper paths, and Edward, with no experience in navigating such terrain, quickly lost his way.

    Five days passed. The snow-covered peaks stretched endlessly around him, and his body felt weak from hunger and exhaustion. ¡°I¡¯d do anything for food right now,¡± he thought, lying in the snow. But he refused to give up. ¡°I have to keep moving. Sitting here won¡¯t help.¡±

    With great effort, Edward got back on his feet and began walking again. As night fell, the cold grew sharper, and his legs felt heavier with each step. Finally, he collapsed face-first into the snow.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Ahh¡­ I was so stupid to think I could handle this just because I learned mana cultivation,¡± Edward thought, barely conscious. His vision blurred as he turned his head, spotting a bright light in the distance. Hope flickered in his chest. ¡°Help me¡­¡± he whispered weakly.

    He tried again, louder this time. ¡°Help me!¡± Summoning every last bit of strength, he shouted with all his might, ¡°HELP ME!¡± before everything went black.

    <hr>

    Edward woke up feeling warmth against his skin and the faint smell of food in the air. ¡°Sniff, sniff.¡± His eyes fluttered open, and he realized he was lying in a bed made of animal skins. Looking around, he saw he was inside a tent supported by wooden poles.

    Drawn by the delicious aroma, Edward stepped outside. There were several other tents scattered around, each made of thick materials to block out the cold. Near a fire, a man was cooking, surrounded by three others warming themselves by the flames. One tent stood out from the rest¡ªit was larger and looked far more important.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re awake,¡± a voice called out. Edward turned and saw a man approaching him, wrapped in thick furs. But Edward barely registered him, his eyes glued to the food being cooked nearby.

    The man chuckled. ¡°We found you in the snow after you called for help. You¡¯re lucky. We don¡¯t usually pass through that area at night. You¡¯d have been buried under the snow by morning.¡±

    Edward simply nodded, his gaze still locked on the food. The man laughed again. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get you something to eat first.¡± He gestured toward the cook. Edward followed, his stomach growling loudly.

    Sitting by the fire, Edward grabbed the bowl handed to him and started eating quickly. The warmth of the food spread through his body, reviving his strength. As he finished, he asked, ¡°Can I get some more?¡±

    The man who had spoken to him earlier laughed loudly. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re feeling better already! Hey, Igor, give him another serving.¡±

    The cook, Igor, nodded, refilling Edward¡¯s bowl. The man introduced himself with a grin. ¡°I¡¯m James. And you?¡±

    ¡°Edward,¡± he replied, between bites.

    ¡°So, Edward,¡± James asked, leaning closer, ¡°what were you doing all the way out here? You¡¯re not a noble of Glacial Expanse, and you don¡¯t look like a soldier on the run.¡±

    ¡°I was trying to get to Skyward Peak,¡± Edward said, his voice quiet.

    James raised an eyebrow. ¡°Skyward Peak? The best way to get there is down the mountain, not up it.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Edward admitted, lowering his head. ¡°I thought I could take a shortcut by crossing the mountain.¡±

    James burst into laughter. ¡°A shortcut? Through the mountain? Kid, you¡¯ve got guts, but that¡¯s the dumbest thing I¡¯ve ever heard!¡± He slapped his knee, still laughing. ¡°No one crosses these mountains unless they¡¯re soldiers or nobles. And even if you did, you¡¯d still have to deal with the dangers between here and Skyward Peak. The long way is actually shorter!¡±

    Edward sighed, feeling embarrassed. ¡°Thanks for saving me,¡± he muttered, then added, ¡°But what are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re part of a merchant group,¡± James explained. ¡°We supply the viscount¡¯s house every week.¡±

    As they talked, a man stepped out of the large tent and approached Edward. ¡°The boss wants to see you,¡± he said.

    Edward nodded, glancing at James, who smiled. ¡°Better not keep him waiting,¡± James said.

    Edward stood up and walked into the big tent. Inside, it was warm and surprisingly luxurious. Torches lined the walls, providing light and heat. Sitting on a comfortable bed was a man dressed in fine clothes. His appearance screamed wealth and authority.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± the man asked, his voice calm.

    Edward bowed slightly. ¡°I feel much better after the meal. Thank you for saving me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Ryker Sterling, the leader of Nexus Merchant Group,¡± the man introduced himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m Edward,¡± Edward replied.

    Ryker¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. ¡°Tell me, Edward, where are you from? Which noble house do you belong to?¡±

    Edward gave a weak smile. ¡°I¡¯m from the Glacial Expanse¡­ a commoner from the slums.¡±

    Ryker leaned forward, his tone sharp. ¡°Then how do you know about mana?¡±

    Edward froze, his mind racing. How did he figure it out? His worried expression gave him away.

 009 - The Decision

    Inside the tent, Edward sat with a steady expression. ¡°No, I don¡¯t know anything about mana. I¡¯m just a commoner from the slums down the mountain,¡± he said.

    Ryker chuckled softly, shaking his head. ¡°Do you have any idea how many frozen bodies I¡¯ve come across in these icy lands? Every single one of them is curled up, their bodies shriveled like a baby in its mother¡¯s womb, the cold eating away at them. Frostbite, hypothermia¡ªit¡¯s always the same story. But you?¡± He leaned forward, his eyes sharp and serious. ¡°You were lying straight on the snow, and the ice around you was melting. The cold didn¡¯t even touch you. There¡¯s only one explanation for that¡ªyou have mana.

    ¡°So, here¡¯s how it is,¡± Ryker continued, his tone unrelenting. ¡°You¡¯ve got two choices. One, you tell me the truth, and maybe we can help each other out. Two, you take your chances and run off on your own¡ªwith the Viscount¡¯s dogs hot on your trail. But let¡¯s be honest¡ªyou¡¯re no ordinary commoner.¡±

    Edward froze, his mind racing. He wasn¡¯t sure what to say. James¡¯s words echoed in his memory: ¡°You¡¯re not a noble from the Glacial Expanse.¡± Whoever had attacked his family wasn¡¯t tied to this region¡ªAgatha herself hadn¡¯t known who they were or why they had attacked.

    Taking a deep breath, Edward decided to speak. ¡°I¡¯m a runaway noble from Skyward Peak. My parents were betrayed by my uncle, who wanted to take over the family. I escaped to the slums with my maid. Now that I¡¯ve mana, I¡¯m going back for revenge.¡±

    Ryker smirked, leaning back. ¡°So, just another noble¡¯s revenge story, huh? Hahaha!¡±

    Phew, that worked, Edward thought, exhaling quietly. Greed really is the same no matter where you go.

    ¡°What¡¯s your family name?¡± Ryker asked, his expression curious.

    Edward kept his calm. ¡°I don¡¯t know. The woman who raised me never told me.¡±

    Ryker studied Edward for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Fair enough. If you don¡¯t want to tell me, that¡¯s your choice. I won¡¯t pry.¡±

    Edward breathed a small sigh of relief. His lie had worked because it carried a grain of truth.

    Ryker leaned forward again. ¡°Alright, Edward. Let¡¯s say you find out your family name and the man who betrayed your parents. How exactly are you planning to get revenge?¡±

    Edward froze, his mind blank. The question hit him hard, and he had no answer.

    Ryker smirked knowingly. ¡°Just as I thought. You grew up among commoners, convinced yourself you were special, and ran off on this little revenge mission. But here¡¯s the thing¡ª you are a frog in the well when you are put up against Nobles, Sure, you¡¯ve got more mana than most commoners training for years. Even they can¡¯t handle the cold like you did. Tell me, what kind of magic do you know?¡±

    Edward shook his head. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know any magic.¡±

    Ryker laughed, almost falling off his seat. ¡°You¡¯re serious? Alright, then what¡¯s your mana affinity?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know,¡± Edward replied hesitantly.

    Ryker¡¯s laughter stopped, and he stared at Edward with a mix of disbelief and suspicion. ¡°You don¡¯t know? That¡¯s just plain stupid, kid.¡±

    He sighed but then grinned again. ¡°Still, you¡¯ve got potential. You need someone to teach you how to use that mana of yours, and I need someone exceptional to send to Sanctum Arcanum Academy¡ªsomeone good enough to make it into the inner school.¡±

    (Sanctum Arcanum Academy: the most elite academy in the Sanctified Citadel, the base of the Anti-Demon Vanguard. Out of the tens of thousands who enroll each year, only a thousand make it to the inner school. There, after grueling training, the top 12 are chosen to join the Vanguard. The Vanguard protects humanity and upholds the balance of the world, with one of them rising to become the Commander¡ªa figure blessed by the gods themselves, holding powers from all five houses.)

    Ryker leaned closer. ¡°Think about it. You¡¯ve got a huge amount of mana¡ªmore than soldiers who¡¯ve trained for years. How old are you, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Seventeen,¡± Edward replied.

    Ryker¡¯s eyes widened in shock. ¡°Seventeen?! Stop lying, kid. You¡¯re trying to take advantage of your young looks, aren¡¯t you¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not lying,¡± Edward interrupted. ¡°I¡¯m 17.¡±

    Ryker stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter again. ¡°Seventeen? Oh, I¡¯ve hit the jackpot! Hahaha!¡± He grabbed Edward¡¯s shoulders, shaking him excitedly. ¡°Listen, kid, you¡¯ve got to take this deal. I¡¯ll sponsor you¡ªpay for all your expenses, teach you how to control your mana, and get you into the academy. We¡¯ve got three months before admissions. All you have to do is say you¡¯re from the Nexus Merchant Group. What do you say?¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Edward stood in stunned silence. On one hand, the academy could give him the knowledge and power he needed¡ªnot just about mana and magic, but about the world of Aetherion itself. Its library held records of every noble, soldier, and mana user, with information automatically updated. On the other hand, he still had unanswered questions about his family and their attackers. Was this the right path?

    Ryker patted Edward¡¯s back. ¡°We¡¯re leaving tomorrow morning. We¡¯ll stop at the Viscount¡¯s mansion. Make up your mind before we leave there.¡±

    <hr>

    The next morning, the convoy began moving again, this time heading toward the Viscount¡¯s mansion. Edward walked alongside the group, feeling the weight of his decision pressing on him. With each step, he felt a bit more uncertain, but something about Ryker¡¯s offer kept him moving forward.

    As they journeyed, Edward couldn¡¯t help but notice the quiet strength of the group. Ryker remained in his palanquin, occasionally chatting with his guards or giving orders to the workers. The palanquin carriers, though strong, showed signs of exhaustion, their shoulders bruised from the weight. The workers carrying supplies and tents appeared disciplined but weary.

    Edward helped with smaller tasks to ease the load on others but was kept away from any significant responsibilities like carrying the palanquin. The group moved in sync, each person performing their role as if they had done this many times before.

    The convoy marched through the cold terrain, steadily making their way to the Viscount¡¯s mansion, arriving around midnight. The mansion loomed in the distance, surrounded by a quiet, eerie stillness, but it was a relief to see civilization after days of travel.

    Ryker was the first to step out of his palanquin, ordering his men to set up camp a little distance from the mansion, out of sight from anyone approaching the gate. Edward watched as the crew worked efficiently, setting up tents and organizing their camp. The mood was calm, but there was an underlying sense of urgency in their actions.

    Edward, helped with whatever he could. He wasn¡¯t in charge of the heavy lifting, but he carried smaller loads, trying to stay useful. His mind, however, was still focused on the offer Ryker had made. The thought of going to Sanctum Arcanum Academy was a tempting one¡ªit could provide him the knowledge he needed to grow stronger and maybe even uncover some truths about his past. But it also felt like a step into the unknown.

    As the camp was being set up, a healer and a few guards from the mansion arrived. The guards carried the "supplies" Ryker had brought, and the healer immediately began to treat the palanquin carriers, who were suffering from swollen shoulders and exhaustion from the long journey. Edward, curious, stepped closer to the healer¡¯s tent, eager to see how they worked.

    It was then that he heard something strange. The healer spoke a word¡ª"Heal."

    The sound was familiar but odd. It wasn¡¯t in Celestian, the common language of Aetherion. It was English. Edward frowned, confused. Was this magic? He had never heard a healer use a word like that before.

    Without thinking, he rushed into the tent, startling the healer and the injured workers. He asked, ¡°I heard something... What was that?¡±

    The healer looked up, clearly confused. ¡°What did you heard?¡±

    ¡°Heal,¡± Edward repeated, trying to make sense of what he had heard.

    The healer blinked, clearly stunned. ¡°You know healing spells?¡±

    Edward stood there, stunned by the question. ¡°spell?, this is the first time I ever heard of mana user using spells, even the healer I met in my childhood healed without uttering a single word, and spells are in English? Can i use magic just by reciting these spells? Could I have saved Grandma just by saying Heal?¡±

    The healer asked again ¡°if you know how to heal can you help me? I still need to use spells as I am new¡±

    Edward glanced around, taking in the scene again. A magician healing commoners¡ªit was a rare sight, indeed. Healers were known to be among the most virtuous, having taken an oath to heal anyone in need. But despite their noble cause, they rarely ventured outside, preferring to stay within the noble palaces or the soldiers'' quarters, places where commoners like him couldn¡¯t easily enter.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know healing,¡± Edward admitted, his voice uncertain. ¡°I just know the word. Can I try it?¡±

    The healer, still somewhat bewildered, gestured toward a man who was waiting for treatment. ¡°Sure. Go ahead. Let¡¯s see what happens.¡±

    Edward, his heart racing, stepped forward and placed his hands on the man¡¯s swollen shoulder. ¡°Heal,¡± he said, just as he had heard.

    But nothing happened. The swelling remained, and the man showed no signs of relief. Edward felt a pang of disappointment but didn¡¯t let it show.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t it work?¡± he asked the healer, confused.

    The healer chuckled softly. ¡°You see, knowing the word isn¡¯t enough. Healers train for years to understand the body, to know how it reacts to different types of illness, to learn the cause and effect. The word is just a tool that makes the process more efficient. Without that knowledge, you can¡¯t heal properly.¡±

    Edward stood there, trying to absorb the healer¡¯s words. It made sense, but the idea of using magic just by speaking the words was still stuck in his mind. Why was it in English? And could he have used this knowledge to save his grandmother?

    After a moment of reflection, he left the healer¡¯s tent, still deep in thought. He returned to his own tent, a small, thin linen shelter compared to the others, and lay awake through the night. His thoughts spun in every direction. Why English? What does this mean for me? Could there be a connection between this magic and his past? Was there a way back to his old life?

    <hr>

    By morning, Edward had made up his mind. He stood outside Ryker¡¯s tent, waiting. The sun was still low in the sky when Ryker finally emerged.

    Edward didn¡¯t waste any time. ¡°I¡¯ll take your deal,¡± he said firmly. ¡°I¡¯ll go to Sanctum Arcanum Academy.¡±

    Ryker¡¯s face lit up with a grin. ¡°Good choice, kid! You won¡¯t regret this. We¡¯ve got a lot of work to do, and I¡¯ll make sure everything¡¯s taken care of. We¡¯ll get you to the academy, no problem.¡±

    Edward nodded, feeling a surge of determination. His path was set, and now he had the chance to learn, grow, and uncover the truths that had been hidden from him for so long. He was ready for whatever came next.

 010 - The Training Ground

    After Edward made the deal with Ryker, Ryker returned to the viscount¡¯s house. After some time, he came back and started leading the group down the mountain with the entire crew, including Edward.

    Edward walked beside Ryker¡¯s palanquin as they discussed their next steps.

    ¡°You grew up in the slums, right? Can you read and write? If not, we¡¯ll need to add that to your training. We only have three months until the Sanctum Arcanum Academy¡¯s next admissions batch starts,¡± Ryker said.

    Edward replied, ¡°Yes, I can read and write. I can also do basic calculations.¡±

    Ryker raised an eyebrow. ¡°Huh. The more I learn about you, the harder it is to believe you came from the slums. Anyway, you¡¯ll join the basic training camp of the House of Soltharion. Every soldier they hire trains there before joining noble families: monarchs, dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts, and barons. Soldiers are assigned based on the families¡¯ needs, their performance, or direct recommendations. And you, lucky for you, have a recommendation letter here.¡± Ryker held up a page. ¡°It says you signed a deal with the viscount, and he recommended you train for three months. So remember, you¡¯ll train as a soldier of the viscount¡¯s family.¡±

    Edward nodded. ¡°Understood. And what happens after the training? What if I¡¯m not good enough?¡±

    Ryker smirked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. You¡¯ve got plenty of mana. Only rich nobles usually have this much mana before turning 22, and that¡¯s only because they drink mana potions. As for the academy, anyone can get into the outer school since they need soldiers to fight monsters. The real challenge is getting into the inner school, which requires exceptional talent.¡±

    Edward frowned. ¡°Then why do I need you to help me get into the academy? I could just go directly.¡±

    Ryker said sarcastically ¡°Leaving me already? I thought we were friends! I even saved your life.¡±. Ryker Continued in a serious tone being a bit sly ¡°But¡­.. Tell me how would you sponsor yourself? What would you say when they ask who you are? Your uncle might still be looking for you. You wouldn¡¯t survive without a proper cover story.¡±

    Edward sighed. ¡°Alright, I get it.¡±

    They continued talking as they traveled. Eventually, they reached the soldiers¡¯ training ground. All Edward saw was a palisade wall with a single gate. The place looked poorly maintained, and only one person was visible at the gate. Ryker handed Edward the recommendation letter and reminded him he had three months to train before departing.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Edward approached the gate, where the guard stopped him. The man had disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, a slouched posture, drooping eyelids, and an unshaven face. He wore a gray tunic and durable leggings made of insulated, frost-resistant fabric. A fur-lined cloak draped over one shoulder, and his sturdy boots had frost-marked designs. Despite his shabby appearance, his clothes clearly protected him from the cold.

    ¡°Stop. State your business,¡± the man said lazily.

    ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Edward. Viscount Algernon sent me here to train,¡± Edward replied, showing the recommendation letter.

    The guard checked the letter. ¡°Oh, a direct recommendation. I¡¯m Brent.¡±

    ¡°Hi, Brent. I¡¯m here to train in mana,¡± Edward said.

    Brent handed the letter back. ¡°It¡¯s legit. Go inside and find Darnell.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Edward replied, heading through the gate.

    Inside, he saw around 15 igloos made of snow and a single brick house. Few people were outside, and the place felt eerily empty.

    ¡°Go to the house,¡± Brent called from behind. ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯ll find Darnell.¡±

    Edward nodded and walked to the house. It felt strange; this was supposed to be *the* training ground where every soldier in the Glacial Expanse trained. Yet there were only 15 people?

    He knocked on the door. ¡°Knock, knock.¡±

    A voice grumbled from inside. ¡°Ah, Brent, no matter how many times you say you¡¯re sleepy, you can¡¯t leave your guard duty¡­¡± The door creaked open to reveal a man in his 30s with a beard, sharp eyes, and wearing a soldier¡¯s uniform. He looked at Edward in confusion. ¡°You¡¯re not Brent. Who are you? Did that idiot leave his post again?¡±

    ¡°No, sir. I¡¯m Edward. Viscount Algernon recommended me,¡± Edward said, handing him the letter.

    The man snatched the letter, reading it with disbelief. ¡°Huh. Well, lucky me. Another guy to take care of. Come in.¡± He turned back inside. ¡°I¡¯m Darnell, your instructor.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Edward. I¡¯ll be in your care,¡± Edward said, following him. ¡°Are you the only instructor here?¡±

    Darnell smirked. ¡°What, you don¡¯t think I¡¯m good enough to train you?¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t mean it like that¡­¡± Edward started but was cut off by Darnell¡¯s laughter.

    ¡°Relax, kid. I¡¯m messing with you. You¡¯re wondering why there are so few soldiers, right?¡±

    Edward nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±

    Darnell leaned back in his chair. ¡°Nobles see having too many soldiers as a sign of weakness, so they keep their numbers low. Most soldiers are used to keep peace in the cities, not on these mountains. Besides, anyone without mana wouldn¡¯t last long here.¡±

    ¡°But what about protection from other territories?¡± Edward asked.

    ¡°Not too bright, are you? Well, at least now I¡¯m sure you¡¯re a commoner,¡± Darnell teased. ¡°Thanks to the Sanctified Citadel, no one can attack another territory. The Anti-Demon Vanguard would intervene immediately. They exist to maintain the unity of Aetherion. Anyone threatening that unity would face their wrath.¡±

    Edward frowned. ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, enough talk,¡± Darnell said, standing. ¡°What¡¯s your affinity?¡±

    Edward hesitated. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Figures. Most people don¡¯t,¡± Darnell said. He left the room and returned with a crystal ball. ¡°Place your hand on this. It¡¯ll reveal your affinity.¡±

    Edward thought to himself, *Will it be something rare? Overpowered? Unique? Like in transmigration novels¡­. Maybe fire?* Excitement bubbled as he placed his hand on the crystal ball.

    The ball glowed white, and inside, a snow blizzard appeared. Edward stared in disappointment.

    ¡°As expected. Your affinity is snow,¡± Darnell said casually.

    Edward¡¯s heart sank. He had hoped for something extraordinary but received the most common affinity in the Glacial Expanse.

    Darnell handed him a set of soldier¡¯s training clothes. ¡°Here. Go outside, find Brent, and have him make you an igloo. Rest today. Training starts tomorrow.¡± He shoved Edward out the door, shutting it behind him.

    Edward stood there, dazed and confused, holding the clothes in his hands.