《No More Heroes / There Are No Heroes》


 Chapter 1: Sinister Plans

    Chapter 1: Nefarious Plans


    Point of View: Magnus Bridge


    "I have become the most powerful mage in this world; reality itself bends before my absolute power. Even the Gods fear me, and my power is immeasurable..." I was reflecting on my own existence when I was interrupted.


    "M-master, everything is ready... the ritual."


    I looked at the boy, who appeared to be around sixteen, with light brown hair and eyes. I did not like being interrupted. I glared at him, and he shrank before my presence. Today, I would not punish him.


    "Boy, do you know what immortality is?" I saw his confused gaze. His lips moved soundlessly. He had been my assistant for years, and yet he still feared me.


    "It is what you and I will achieve today in this ritual." I put a warm smile on my face to try to ease the confused feelings that coursed through the boy.


    "Do you know that even the gods are not immortal? Unable to escape the flow of time. They age, change names, but they continue to exist. Their essence is renewed only because people believe in them, in an eternal cycle of rebirth that depends on the faith of the people of this continent."


    The boy seemed calmer.


    "M-master, I don¡¯t understand..."


    I approached him slowly. I did not intend to be forgotten, nor did I intend to forget. I will remain in memory and essence. The idea of disappearing completely, becoming a blur in an uncertain future, brings a sense of emptiness that spreads like a suffocating shadow within me.


    "You see, boy, I have made many sacrifices to get here: elves, dwarves, nobles, slaves, humans. Even the commoners who cried out for protection, swearing loyalty for me to save them from disease and monsters, were touched by my existence."


    I said this to him, thinking of each face that vanished under my hand. A silent presence still lingers in my memory, one that never abandons me.


    But it was necessary ¡ª or at least, that''s what I tell myself to justify the unbearable.


    On my 284th birthday, after countless research conducted in this strange dungeon, I finally discovered the solution. I created an artifact capable of storing my soul and transferring it into an adequate vessel. I based it on the technique of demonic possession to develop a form of magical possession.


    This technique allows me to take control of the latent mana in a human body, using it as if it were mine. From there, I manipulate the mana to control the rest of the body like a true master.


    "Gods and mortals... They are still stuck in archaic methods, as if something meaningful could be achieved with those obsolete formulas. My creation, ah, this is refined magic! Simple, potent, unbeatable!"If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I moved around the circle, checking for any flaws. My assistant almost never let any mistakes slip by.


    "One day, will you teach me your magic?" The boy interrupted me again, but I wasn¡¯t angry. I felt sad. A loneliness took hold of my core. The truth is, he wouldn''t live long enough for me to teach him anything.


    Changing the subject to avoid my thoughts, I muttered: "Why does a dungeon full of decaying bodies have to smell so bad? It should be a glorious reminder of progress, but all I can think of is the damn stench. Well, nothing that a little extra mana can''t fix."


    I continued organizing the crystals on the table, which would serve as a battery to keep my existence alive. I looked at my assistant and asked:


    "Only the strongest should reach me. How are the traps, golems, gargoyles...?"


    "T-the traps are all ready, master. Once I leave this dungeon and the ritual is complete, the dungeon will begin to function. Any trace of mana will activate it."


    I couldn''t help but smile as I exclaimed energetically: "Let the most worthy come!"


    These measures would not only prevent insignificant individuals from advancing but also encourage the truly powerful to face the challenges, believing they had found a treasure of immense value.


    And indeed, they would. However, the real treasure would be mine: a body worthy of carrying my immortal soul.


    The walls of the dungeon, covered in moss and dark stains, seemed to pulse with the magical energy that infused the place. The torchlight flickered, casting dancing shadows that took on grotesque, almost lifelike forms. The silence was broken only by the occasional sound of drops falling into small puddles on the floor, each drop echoing as a reminder of time passing.


    As the echo of the drops dripped from the ceiling or ran down the walls, I couldn''t help but wonder if all that I had done and was doing was just. It was a thought that returned like a constant hammer, striking my already fragmented conscience. Was there no other alternative but to use people as instruments? No, I was sure there was no other alternative, not one that would benefit me at least. It was this or oblivion¡­ and the idea of disappearing forever was a prison far crueler than any dungeon.


    I placed the orb on the pedestal in the center of the room. The stand, made of stone in the shape of two skeletal hands, held it firmly in place. The ethereal glow of the orb cast a pale and cold light across the room, illuminating the runes on the floor. They pulsed softly with an unsettling energy, as if they were breathing. I stepped back to the outer limit of the magic circle, whose runes would ensure a constant flow of mana in and out of the orb to maintain the energy. Additionally, extra crystals were scattered across the table, enriching the atmosphere with abundant mana, as if the entire room were alive.


    The energy here should last several centuries before it fades. It¡¯s a damn shot in the dark, but it¡¯s the only sensible option ¡ª that or become some damn lich. Although I have no problem with killing in the name of magic, I feel that taking lives to extend my own would be an unbearable moral burden. This method, however, ensures that only a single sacrifice is needed.


    "Come here, boy. Stand in this spot. I¡¯ll need you to help me with this ritual."


    I called, indicating that he should stand at the outer edge of the magic circle. With the boy facing away from me, I drew my dagger and apologized:


    "I''m sorry..."


    Blood gushed from his throat and filled the magic circle.


    I began the ritual. My consciousness faded, and I watched my body fall as it was drawn into the orb on the pedestal. The sensation was like being torn from the fabric of existence, an abrupt rip that left a cold emptiness in my being. My memories paraded before me like images projected onto a blank screen. Each face, each moment of glory and regret, a succession of intense flashes.


    Then, I was there. I could see and feel everything in the room through the mana, I could communicate through my mind. But there was no one else. The world was now a dense twilight of black shapes. For a moment, I saw something that seemed to crawl on the floor, but I ignored it.


    And time continued to pass...


    </article>

 Chapter 2: Train Journey

    Point of View: Christopher Roosevelt


    London was everything I thought it would be: a truly magical city with beautiful architecture that blended the old and the modern in a fascinating way. The streets, full of life, were a reflection of centuries of history. As chaotic as urban life was, there was an intrinsic order behind it all.


    In truth, the whole world became more beautiful once I started traveling through it. When you''re not successful, things are much more depressing and complicated. As a freelance banker, the freedom to have clients anywhere in the world¡ªand, of course, the excuse to travel¡ªwas a privilege of the profession. London, Paris, Tokyo, New York, Seoul... One of the perks of being Brazilian is having one of the best passports in the world.


    I was at London St. Pancras station, a true architectural marvel. The curved iron beams of the ceiling seemed to dance as natural light poured through the glass windows, creating hypnotic patterns on the polished marble floor. The place was bustling.


    Muffled shouts, hurried laughter, people with heavy luggage and distracted looks. It was crowded, but at the same time, there was a strange harmony in the crowd, as if everyone moved in a rehearsed choreography. In the background, a violinist played a sweet and melancholic version of ¡°I Want to Hold Your Hand,¡± echoing through the station, blending with the sounds of train traffic and distant conversations.


    I was on my way to Cambridge, my next tourist destination. It was rush hour, and as I observed the people around me, something caught my attention on my left: a commotion. Desperate screams pierced the air, but still, my instinct was not to get involved.


    I wasn¡¯t there to get into trouble. My English was far from perfect, and getting involved in something in a foreign land wasn¡¯t part of my plan. However, one phrase reverberated in my mind: ¡°Thief! Catch the thief!¡±


    The crowd around me began to stir, but something inside me kept me rooted in place. This wasn¡¯t my problem. The station continued to be filled with the sound of a train to my right, the mechanical noise of the tracks mingling with the screech of brakes. But suddenly, the reality around me distorted.


    The commotion seemed distant, the sounds became muffled, and for a moment, all I could hear was the hum of something immense approaching. Suddenly, someone bumped into me so hard that I almost lost my balance. I stumbled forward, unable to steady myself.


    And then, the light¡­ It was intense and blinding, as if the sun itself had decided to descend to Earth. In an instant, the light shone so brightly that it enveloped me, and then¡­ everything went black. The world around me disappeared.


    ¡°Young hero, your wish will be granted: a magical world with magic and swords,¡± echoed a voice in the darkness, deep and distant. But that wish was old, something I had ten years ago when I was lost in life, directionless in my early twenties.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I wanted adventures, a world with magic, with swords. Now, what I desired was something completely different: a comfortable life, filled with wealth, far from any suffering. Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t verbalize that. I was simply floating, weightless, directionless, in absolute emptiness.


    My mind was confused, and a searing pain began to emerge in my head. Could the train¡­ have crushed me? An irrational thought crossed my mind: people were run over by trucks and transported to other worlds, not by trains.


    As time dragged on, my head began to throb more intensely. Something started to weigh on my back, and a strange sensation spread through my body. Something pointy touched my fingers, but at the same time, it felt soft.


    The air around me became fresh, and the scent of pure air, like that of a forest, filled my lungs. It was as if I were walking near a forest or park, yet I could see nothing around me. A soft breeze brushed my skin, bringing unexpected relief.


    With my head still throbbing, I finally opened my eyes. A clearing revealed itself before me. The trees around me were tall and imposing, their leaves covering the sky like a thick mantle, leaving only small cracks of light to pass through to the ground below.


    I was lying in a small clearing, about three square meters, surrounded by a dense forest that seemed to vibrate with life. The ground, covered by a thin layer of moss, was slightly damp, and the smell of wet earth mixed with the fresh air. The leaves, vibrant in color, swayed gently in the wind. The sound of distant birds and the rustling of trees were the only noises breaking the absolute silence.


    ¡°Why the hell am I naked?¡± I murmured, feeling a deep ache in my lungs. ¡°Living beings get transported to another world, but clothes don¡¯t?¡± Even with the mental confusion, the discomfort of being naked brought me back to reality.


    When I was younger, I read various novels, manga, and watched many anime. No matter how terrible a situation might seem, my concern wasn¡¯t exactly being transported to another world. What truly unsettled me was the possibility of not being in a safe position or the challenges I would face along the way.


    With great effort, I lifted the upper part of my body, propping myself up on my elbows. My stomach growled loudly, making it clear that the hunger I felt was immense. With the pain in my head slowly subsiding, I began to observe more closely what was around me.


    The forest seemed denser and more mysterious than anything I had ever seen on any trip. The trees weren¡¯t ordinary. Some of them seemed to emit a soft glow, as if they had a life of their own. The air was charged with a peculiar humidity that touched my skin gently, as if every breath I took was imbued with an invisible magical energy.


    I was in a completely different world, but part of me couldn¡¯t help finding it strange that everything was so¡­ simple. I should have been in a castle, with a new purpose in a magical land full of fantastical creatures, not in some random clearing in an apparently wild world.


    If there are swords, then there must be cities in this world...


    I stood up, letting my thoughts drift to the second thing I heard before wake here: magic. Immediately, I raised my hands and said, "Status." Nothing happened. I tried again: "Appraise, description, fireball." When I realized I was acting like a six-year-old, I stopped. I took a deep breath, feeling the warm sunlight on my skin.


    "Well, at least it¡¯s not winter," I muttered to myself.


    ¡°As funny as it might be to think about playing Tarzan, shouldn¡¯t I have been transported to a castle or something?¡± I thought, trying to make sense of everything that was happening.


    </article>

 Chapter 3: Survival I

    Point of View: Christopher Roosevelt


    <div>


    I was standing, sweat running down my face as I tried to get my mind to work. The adrenaline was coursing through my veins, but panic was also consuming my body. I couldn¡¯t stay here lying down; I needed to act.


    The first thing to do, for anyone who has watched the American series Naked and Afraid, was to find water. The human body can survive longer in a state of malnutrition than dehydration. But here, in the middle of an unknown forest, I felt completely lost.


    The sounds of the forest surrounded me, filling the air with the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, and the occasional snap of a branch under some invisible weight. Each noise made me flinch. Still, the sound I was truly desperate to hear was the flow of water¡ªa stream, a river, anything to offer relief. The tension of the situation tightened my chest, and the fear of dehydration gnawed at me.


    Eventually, I reached a clearing and paused for a moment, trying to quickly assess the situation. The sunlight, which had been fighting to stay in the sky, was rapidly fading. Dusk was creeping in, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The air grew heavy and humid, clinging to my skin.


    As I checked my body, I noticed something strange. "Look at that, I¡¯ve turned into a bodybuilder from another world... This could¡¯ve happened earlier, right? Bet women would love it." Was this some sort of bonus for traveling between worlds? Then my focus returned: the lack of clothes and tools was a constant reminder of how critical my situation was. Another thing I noticed was the complete absence of body hair. "No hair? Seriously? I¡¯m a baby from the gym now?"


    Entering the dense forest with adrenaline pumping through my veins, I tried to take in my surroundings. The wildlife¡¯s sounds blended together, creating a disorienting fog in my mind. Then, in the distance, I heard it¡ªthe unmistakable rush of water. My pulse quickened as I stumbled forward, my desperation leading the way.


    In my mind, I imagined myself as an intrepid explorer, someone capable of overcoming anything. But the reality hit harder with each step. The weight of my legs, the growling of my stomach, and the heat pressing down on me reminded me of my limits. Frustration and anger bubbled up: why couldn¡¯t this be a normal isekai? I just wanted an easy life, not this fight for survival. Instead, I was here¡ªlost, directionless, and without a plan.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    After what felt like endless hours, I finally stumbled upon a riverbed. Relief surged through me at the sound of rushing water. Yet, as I stood there, another wave of worry took over. The river was wide, its waters churning and fast-moving. There were no signs of human presence¡ªjust dense vegetation and the endless murmur of the current. I didn¡¯t know where the river led, but I had no choice but to follow it.


    The last light of day faded as a cool breeze swept through the forest. The night was coming fast, and with it, new challenges. I couldn¡¯t afford to get sick, so I began searching for a way to make it through until morning. My thoughts raced as I prioritized finding shelter. Quick decisions were essential now. I pondered the situation as I kneeled by the river, using my hands to drink water.


    But the forest had other plans. Every so often, a rustle or a crack broke the oppressive silence, setting my nerves on edge. Something was moving in the dense underbrush. I couldn¡¯t see it, but the feeling of being watched clung to me like a second skin.


    Walking along the riverbank, I forced myself to stay calm and focus. Spotting some large, sharp stones, I began chipping one against another, attempting to craft a crude blade. My hands bled slightly, but the pain was a minor inconvenience. A blade could mean the difference between life and death¡ªwhether for hunting or defending myself.


    As darkness fully descended, I found a tall tree that could serve as shelter. Climbing it with what strength I had left, I secured myself to a sturdy branch using fibers stripped from a massive leaf. As I gazed down at the river below, loneliness began to creep in. The forest was vast and unforgiving, and a sense of unease settled in my chest. Was something out there watching me?


    Then, a faint crack of a branch in the distance sent a chill down my spine. I froze, straining to hear. The noises grew louder, accompanied by guttural growls and eerie cries that didn¡¯t sound human. My heart pounded as I clung to the branch. Suddenly, the noises stopped, replaced by an oppressive silence that seemed to stretch forever.


    And then I saw it. A humanoid figure emerged below me. Its skin was a sickly green, and its eyes glinted unnaturally in the faint moonlight. It rummaged through the underbrush, scanning the area with unsettling precision. That¡¯s when it hit me: it was looking for me.


    The tree¡¯s thick foliage provided some cover, shielding me from its gaze. "Okay, weird green creature, stay down there and I¡¯ll stay up here. Everyone¡¯s happy, deal?" I whispered to myself, my voice trembling. I prayed silently: "Go away, please go away..."

 Chapter 4: Survival II

    Point Of View: Christopher Roosevelt


    I woke up with a sneeze. My worries about catching a cold immediately came rushing back, along with my mental checklist of priorities: food and a decent shelter. My current inventory? A stone knife and a rope made from braided leaves. As I mentally went over my supplies, the ground trembled. A chill ran down my spine. I stayed in the tree but climbed higher, between the branches, hiding in the leaves. I struggled to control my heartbeat, which seemed to be ready to leap out of my throat.


    Then I saw it. Near the riverbed, a gigantic creature, about four meters tall. It looked like a lizard with wings attached to its front legs, resembling a pterosaur but with a bulkier head, similar to a Komodo dragon, full of sharp teeth. Its body was covered with dark, scaly skin that gleamed in the sunlight. Its claws dug into the ground, making a metallic sound as they crushed stones.


    The creature dipped its head into the river, fishing or drinking water. "I''ll call it Wyvern," I thought. If this thing can fly, it''s better I stay hidden in the tree cover. I descended the tree, my thoughts racing. The river was no longer safe; drinking water or building a raft to go down it would be a monumental challenge now.


    "Call me a coward, but I won''t fight that thing, no way," I muttered to myself, letting out a nervous laugh. Since I had already drunk enough water, I decided to move away from the river and head into the forest. "Time to look for fruits." I followed my own rule: if animals are eating something, it''s probably safe for me too, especially if they''re primates.


    As I walked, I found a small tree with a thin trunk. I broke it and began carving it while walking, trying to make it as straight as possible. Once the shaft was well worked, I used a piece of fiber to create a spear. "Now I have a weapon. It''s not very sturdy or deadly, but it''s a defense mechanism."


    My hands were calloused and sore from the rope I''d used to improvise the spear. Every step felt heavier than the last, and my stomach growled with hunger. I knew I needed to find something to eat, but my mind was scattered, my muscles were exhausted, and the simple act of breathing seemed to consume me.


    Loneliness tightened my chest with every step I took, and the sense of helplessness, with no one to back me up, haunted me. I was alone, just me and my restless mind. "Maybe there''s a busty elf lost around here?" I yelled, trying to chase away the weight of solitude. "Dwarves work too¡­"This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    After a few hours of walking, I entered a small clearing. In the center, there was a huge rock, twice my height and ten times my width. A crack separated the boulder, probably a result of years of erosion. Cautiously approaching, I inspected the inside. The inner part of the rock was eroded, forming a small cave with stalactites dripping water. "Looks like a safe place," I thought as I entered.


    "Where''s this water coming from, dripping from the ceiling?" Inside, the cave was spacious, with solid stone walls. There was enough space for a man to lie down, but most of the floor was covered by a pool of crystal-clear water. Around it, the stone floor was covered with moss, which would need to be removed. Lighting a fire here would be dangerous.


    I approached the pool and knelt. It was then that I saw my reflection for the first time. My brown eyes were lighter. I looked younger, maybe sixteen, and more athletic than I remembered. I was never much into sports. I ran my hand over my muscles. "I''m going to have a lot of fun with this body," I said, amused.


    My hair was dark brown, completely messy and short, and my skin was white, but a bit yellowish. "Anemia?" I commented to myself, chuckling.


    Setting that aside, did I rejuvenate, or is this a new body? I wondered curiously, what kind of being would have the power to do such a thing? "Hero, huh? Let''s see who''s going to play the hero here!" I said aloud, looking at the ceiling. Talking to myself was something I had done in my old world. Now that the panic had subsided, I was starting to return to that habit. It would definitely help me cope with this situation.


    Just as I was about to stand up, my foot slipped on the moss, and my body fell into the pool. I tried to brace myself with my arms, but it was deeper than it seemed, and soon I found myself completely submerged. My whole body sank into the water. I tried to swim desperately, but I¡¯m a terrible swimmer. You can¡¯t be good at everything, after all. As the scarce light from the cave faded above me, I realized I was running out of breath. Then, my feet touched the ground. With a push, I sprang up, flailing my arms. My head surfaced, and I leaned on a flat surface, coughing and spitting out the water I had swallowed.


    When I looked around, I realized I was no longer in the cave. "Oh, great. Random isekai event. Is this some sort of dungeon?" I muttered. I mentally began humming the opening song as if this were some kind of crazy anime.


    A corridor stretched ahead of me. Shivering from the cold, I got up and started walking, each step echoing in the darkness. This wasn''t a game, and I had no interest in being the main character. I looked ahead, surrendering my sanity. The air was thick, and the only sound was the dripping of water somewhere.


    "I¡¯ll kill a dragon with this pointy stick," I proclaimed, joking with the situation, if I find one. I would beg for my life.

 Chapter 5: Summoning of the Heroes I

    Point of View: Lorian Vellorn


    The ritual was about to begin, and in the crowd, a handful of eager nobles tried to win the favor of the heroes. I couldn¡¯t blame them; after all, the summoning method created by the infamous Magnus Bridge brought to this world super soldiers¡ªpowerful weapons capable of destroying entire kingdoms. The excuse used to justify such power? "We need heroes to face the Lords." Pure nonsense, masking the greed of the King and the Nobility.


    Valion, son of the Count of Taldrin, approached me, his heavy hand resting on my shoulder. ¡°Do you believe these heroes will be good? Or just more pawns for the war?¡± he asked, his eyes fixed on the circle formed by the priests, where three lifeless children lay.


    Valion, my childhood friend, had been corrupted by the rotten structure of Calyndor. I wondered what was left of him. A once idealistic young man now sought ways to accumulate power, regardless of the cost. He had been one of the greatest influences in my life, motivating me to become who I was today. But over time, he had lost his way, and the reality he embraced now seemed unrecognizable.


    Someday, I hope to save him from this spiral of destruction. But if that¡¯s not possible, I will be the one to end his life. It terrifies me, but the idea of seeing him as an enemy to be destroyed also seems inevitable. The truth is, as long as he¡¯s alive, his corruption will be a threat to everyone around us.


    ¡°Actually, you want to ask if they will be easily manipulated,¡± I replied, my tongue sharp as a needle, casting a brief glance at my friend before returning my attention to the children in the circle. ¡°Don¡¯t you think this ritual is cruel? I mean, they¡¯re just children. Where do their memories, their feelings, their souls go?¡±


    ¡°One life for another. Anyway, this is something that needs to be done. Without defense against the Lords, the kingdom of Calyndor will... no, I dare say the entire continent will fall, from the dwarves in the Grimdal fortress, the elves in the hidden kingdom of Aeloria, to the Veridian Empire. Nothing has the power to resist the Lords.¡±


    To avoid being accused of treason, I remained silent. As much as I had a friendship with Valion, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if this was brainwashing or a justification for the cruel greed. That psychopath of a mage is treated like a legend, when everything he created should be considered taboo. I glanced briefly at our king, Eryndor Valier of Calyndor, as the mages began chanting in an ancient language I didn¡¯t understand. The bastard had a smile on his face...Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    A blinding light filled the hall, blinding everyone present. The magical circle, now animated, began to pulse with energy from another dimension, vibrating like a dark heart. Runes glowed ethereally, appearing on the children¡¯s bodies with a supernatural intensity, as if each mark was a branding, a seal of something much larger than they could comprehend.


    The sound of the chanting echoed in the room, deep and rhythmic, reverberating against the stone walls and making the atmosphere heavy, dense with the weight of a fate that couldn¡¯t be avoided. Each vibration of energy seemed to pierce the skin, invade the senses, until the air became thick and suffocating, as though the very essence of the world was being altered.


    It was as fascinating as it was disturbing. Intricate runes appeared on the bodies of the youths, glowing with a supernatural intensity. According to ancient studies, these marks would serve as catalysts, allowing the energy of reincarnation to bestow extraordinary abilities upon the heroes: immense physical strength, superhuman agility, impenetrable resistance, and a natural affinity for magic¡ªeverything that mages and warriors of this world could only dream of achieving.


    However, something seemed wrong. When the light finally faded and the runes disappeared from the children¡¯s skins, an uncomfortable silence filled the hall. Anxious whispers began to spread among the mages. The tension was palpable, and the normally imposing mages were agitated. Their gazes met with unnerving speed, and even Abimael, the royal mage, seemed to have lost control. His trembling hands, his rigid posture¡ªeverything betrayed the error. Something was wrong. He approached King Eryndor Valier of Calyndor, leaning in to whisper something in his ear.


    The confident smile that adorned the king¡¯s face vanished instantly. For a brief moment, a grimace of frustration appeared, but it was quickly replaced by the stoic, calculating expression he always wore in front of the court. ¡°The ritual was a success,¡± he announced loudly, hiding any trace of concern. ¡°Now, I ask the mages and priests to take the children to a place where they can rest and recover their strength. Guards, please escort the nobles out of the palace.¡±


    Since Magnus Bridge¡¯s disappearance, the royal family had been desperately trying to recover their lost prestige. The mage who once defied the limits of magic was now just a memory, but his legacy of madness left a deep mark. His absence didn¡¯t bring stability but generated rulers increasingly obsessed with power.


    Eryndor, the current king, is the embodiment of this obsession, a distorted reflection of Magnus. He hides his insatiable thirst for control under a facade of nobility, but his eyes reveal the emptiness and destruction he is willing to bring. The most ironic part is that, instead of learning from the past¡¯s mistakes, the kingdom remains trapped in the same cycle of greed, where one monster is replaced by another, hungrier and more dangerous. Eryndor doesn¡¯t care about the costs of power; he just wants to stay in control, no matter the price.


    As the crowd began to disperse, I couldn¡¯t help but notice the tension in Abimael¡¯s gaze and the contained nervousness in the mages¡¯ movements. Something had gone wrong, that much was clear. The king could mask his emotions, but I wasn¡¯t a fool. Something about this ritual didn¡¯t go as planned, and I intended to find out what it was¡ªno matter the cost.

 Chapter 6: Summoning of the Heroes II

    Point of View: Kaori Tanaka


    The morning sun touched my skin, and footsteps echoed in the room as I curled deeper into the blanket. The sound of blinds opening made the light even more unbearable, forcing my eyes to squint. The fresh morning air filled my lungs, but all I could think was, ¡°Mom, just five more minutes¡­¡± I grunted and buried my face in the pillow, which, for some reason, felt softer than usual.


    ¡°Miss, His Majesty is waiting,¡± a completely unfamiliar voice echoed beside the bed.


    ¡°Whose Majesty?¡± I murmured, confused. I suddenly opened my eyes and sat up in bed, staring at the surroundings around me. This wasn¡¯t my room.


    I was in a large bed, in a gigantic room. The ceiling and walls were made of gray stone, while the floor gleamed with a white, smooth marble-like stone. To the left of the bed was a polished redwood desk, and at the center of the room stood a small table surrounded by two velvet red armchairs.


    ¡°Was I¡­ kidnapped?¡± I gasped, quickly rising and using the bed as a barrier between myself and the strange woman. She was dressed like a maid, in an outfit that reminded me of those themed caf¨¦s that otakus love to visit. However, she wasn¡¯t young like the staff at those caf¨¦s. She appeared to be around forty, with blonde hair neatly tied up in a bun, and her eyes conveyed a sense of severity.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, young lady. Everything will be explained shortly,¡± the woman said, her tone firm yet respectful. ¡°Please, follow me.¡±


    I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding. My gaze scanned the room again, trying to find any clue of where I was or how I had ended up here. Feeling that I had little choice, I took a cautious step forward, still keeping the bed between us.


    ¡°If this is some kind of joke or prank, I swear it¡¯s not funny¡­¡± I muttered, trying to stay calm, though my trembling voice betrayed me. The woman didn¡¯t respond. She simply turned and walked toward the door, gesturing for me to follow.


    The hallway was well-lit; statues of armored figures and framed paintings adorned the space, showcasing figures I had never seen before in my life. After passing through the hallway, we descended a staircase that led us to an exit. As we walked through a stone archway, I couldn¡¯t help but notice the courtyard¡¯s decorations, with fountains and flowers arranged artfully.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    But something felt off. I felt strange, like I wasn¡¯t myself. My hands seemed smaller, my height different, even the way I walked felt abnormal. I was wearing a white tunic that the woman had provided. Moreover, this place didn¡¯t resemble Japan in any way. Maybe it was some ancient castle in the West.


    We entered another building, walking through another beautifully decorated corridor. However, the people in the paintings of this space were all men, and they shared physical similarities. I noticed that the frames had inscriptions written in a language that wasn¡¯t Japanese, but oddly enough, I could understand it.


    The guards in the hallways watched us with curious gazes, but none of them spoke. It was as if I was a stranger, someone who didn¡¯t belong here. Their silence only heightened the feeling that I was trapped in a nightmare.


    Stopping in front of an ornate door, the woman pushed it open firmly and gestured for me to enter.


    Hesitant, I stepped through the entrance, scanning my surroundings. There were people dressed extravagantly, as if in an old-fashioned ball. The hall was vast, with six marble pillars extending from floor to ceiling along the sides, leaving a red carpet that led directly to a throne at the end of the space.


    The man seated on the throne was tall and robust, appearing to be about fifty years old. His hair was completely white and spiked, and he wore a gray tunic adorned with golden details, with white feathers around his neck.


    ¡°Welcome to Calyndor, great heroine. I am King Eryndor, of the Valier royal family.¡± His eyes locked onto mine with intensity. What was I supposed to do in a situation like this? Kneel? King? Heroine?


    ¡°What kind of nonsense is this?¡± I questioned, even more confused.


    ¡°Oh, great heroine, you have been chosen to save this world from a dark threat. They call themselves the Lords. For this fight, you have been blessed with a new body that possesses abilities beyond those of an ordinary human. We offer you all the necessary support to help you develop and become strong enough to face our adversaries.¡±


    What was he saying? None of it made sense. What place in the world was Calyndor? Why was he doing some kind of fantasy role-play?


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to play this game. I want to go home.¡±


    ¡°I understand your confusion, but if you are here, it means you died in your world. There is no home to return to.¡± He gestured with his hand, and the maid approached, carrying a cushion with a small silver mirror.


    ¡°Take it,¡± she said, extending the mirror.


    Reluctantly, I took the object and looked at my reflection. A blonde child with green eyes stared back at me. There was no trace of my old brown hair. This person¡­ isn¡¯t me.


    Did I really die? What happened to my mom? I never got to say goodbye¡­ Does she know what happened to me? The thought of never seeing her face again, of never feeling the warmth of her embrace¡­ made me feel as if a part of me was disappearing.

 Chapter 7: Rebirth

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    Point Of View: Magnus Bridge


    How much time has passed? Well, I¡¯m not sure. The room around me was still. In the dim shadows that my vision could reach, figures danced in the darkness. Sometimes, an insect or bat crossed the space silently. I made the most of my time thinking about magical formulas, spell structures, runes, invocations, curses, and other things of that nature. However, there were times when I felt I was forgetting some of these things. Perhaps it was due to time¡­ memory does not endure over centuries.


    Although I no longer had a physical body to feel anxiety, the idea of no adventurer passing through the doors troubled me. What if the energy runs out? What if I lose all my thoughts? How much time has passed?


    If I had transformed into a Lich, I would only need to massacre one or two civilizations. Did I make the right choice? As I lost myself in daydreams about past decisions, a crash echoed through the room. A humanoid figure entered the space. Although I could only see distorted shapes in the shadow, something about the mana around this being seemed strange.


    ¡°Welcome, young adventurer. Congratulations on completing this dungeon. I am the Dungeon Master, and as a reward, I will grant you the highest knowledge.¡± I spoke theatrically, as I had rehearsed countless times.


    A sneeze echoed in the room. ¡°Why are there so many corpses here?¡± asked a male voice. At least now I knew the gender of my guest, I thought.


    ¡°Do not fear. These corpses are of researchers who died in a magical accident long ago. I am the remnant of the knowledge from those studies. Now, come closer and place your hand on the orb. I will transfer the knowledge so that you may become the most powerful wizard.¡± It was partly true: they really died because of mistakes and accidents I caused. But he didn¡¯t need to know everything.


    The shadow moved. His arm lifted. Just a few more centimeters, I thought, watching anxiously. Then, the hand stopped and recoiled. ¡°I refuse. This is clearly suspicious.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, refuse?¡± I wasn¡¯t expecting this. I couldn¡¯t let him leave; who knows how long it would take for another adventurer to pass through the dungeon. And what if there was no one else? ¡°Young adventurer, is there anything else you desire besides knowledge? Perhaps treasure?¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Uh, well... think about it: a room full of corpses promising absolute power inside a dungeon? It¡¯s kind of, how should I say it? Suspicious?¡± I couldn¡¯t read his expression due to my visual limitations, but his words carried distrust. ¡°But is there any treasure in this room? Where?¡±


    ¡°I see that this caught your attention, young adventurer. Allow me to propose a deal: I¡¯ve been trapped in this dungeon for centuries. Take me with you on your adventure, and I¡¯ll show you where my treasure is hidden.¡± Now, I just had to wait. As soon as he touched me, his body would be mine. Muahahahahaha!


    Silence filled the room. The figure remained motionless. ¡°My name is Christopher. Do you have a name, talking ball?¡± The voice echoed again. As if that mattered! I thought to myself. After all, his consciousness would be supplanted.


    ¡°I am the supreme wizard Magnus Bridge. You must have heard of me.¡±


    Silence returned. Impatient, I dared to speak again: ¡°So, what now? Do we have a deal?¡±


    The figure began to move, extending his arm toward the orb again. ¡°Ah, alright. Not like I have anything better to do, after all.¡± He sighed. ¡°But I swear, if this is a trap, I¡¯ll break you in two.¡±


    A wave of energy swept through the room as his fingers touched the surface of the orb. I felt my existence flowing toward the figure. There I was: I could clearly see the environment around me. The glowing orb had lost its light, and the room was lit only by the mana crystals scattered across the tables. But something was wrong. The torches that were supposed to light up when the dungeon was activated remained extinguished.


    ¡°Did the talking ball run out of energy?¡± The voice came from my mouth, but it wasn¡¯t me speaking. I tried to move my arms and legs, but nothing happened. Something was wrong.


    ¡°Now, how am I going to find the treasure and get out of this damn dungeon?¡± Once again, I spoke¡­ but it wasn¡¯t me.


    Then, a realization came to my mind: this body didn¡¯t have enough mana to be controlled. How the hell did this guy get through the forbidden forest and complete the dungeon? Then, I understood: the dungeon hadn¡¯t been activated. He had no mana. No trap or monster had been triggered. But that didn¡¯t explain how he made it through the forest.


    He ¡ª or rather, I ¡ª began to move, inspecting the room. He stopped in front of my corpse, bent down, and started removing the cloak I was wearing: a black cloak ornamented with golden threads on the edges, giving the outfit a royal and dark air. He was looting my own corpse. That¡¯s when I noticed something else: I was completely naked.


    My realization hit immediately, reducing me to a shadow of my former greatness. A dungeon, a prison. This wasn¡¯t what I had planned when I started my journey for immortality. Yet, here I was, trapped in a body I couldn¡¯t control, a body of a crazy man who was naked. I searched his mind to try to understand how I ended up in this situation, which seemed at least ridiculous. And then I saw it, a completely different world. A hero from another world, but he was weak. Who summoned someone so weak to this world?

 Chapter 8: Useless Power

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    Point Of View: Christopher Roosevelt


    The cloak looks expensive; I¡¯ll probably regret doing this, but it¡¯ll have to do. I took it from the corpse and tied it around my waist, making a sort of skirt.


    ¡®My cloak! You are insulting centuries of arcane dignity by wearing it like this!¡¯ A voice hissed in my mind. I was completely stunned.


    "Now you''re speaking inside my head? Don''t tell me you''re some kind of parasite?" I replied sarcastically.


    ¡®Tsk¡­ useless bastard,¡¯ I heard the voice, sounding furious.


    I inspected the other bodies and found nothing of importance. They were poorly dressed compared to the body with the black cloak. I said aloud, "They weren¡¯t assistants or researchers. What really happened here?" No response.


    I went over to the tables where dozens of crystals were glowing with a bluish hue. ¡®Are these valuable?¡¯ I thought to myself.


    ¡®They are magical crystals of the highest value, perhaps not for you, since you¡¯re a useless one without magic,¡¯ Magnus¡¯s voice, the orb, answered in my mind.


    "Now you can read my thoughts? Is that an invasion of privacy? Why don¡¯t you go back to that orb?" I pointed to the sphere still on the pedestal.


    ¡®Even if I wanted to, your body doesn¡¯t have mana to cast a transfer spell. What resides within you is only memories and essence of what was once my power.¡¯


    "I get it, you''re the useless one here! So, is there really a treasure, or did you trick me to parasitize my body?"Silence took over, followed by what seemed like long seconds.


    ¡®On the wall opposite this room, one of the bricks is loose. Pull it out, there will be a space with a Dimensional Ring, but guess what?¡¯ While he was describing this, I was already moving.


    "I can''t access the ring, can I?" There was no answer, but I didn¡¯t need one. I moved toward the detailed wall and started punching lightly until I found a loose piece. When I found it, I pulled it, and there was the ring. My attention shifted to the crystals; they must be valuable. I went over to one of the corpses, took a long piece of cloth, laid it across a table, and arranged the crystals I managed to gather in the center, tying the ends together, turning it into a sort of pouch. I mentally noted the things I had: "37 mana crystals, a rustic spear, a black cloak, and probably expensive."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Now tell me how to get out of this damned dungeon," I yelled. "I haven¡¯t eaten in two days." After a few seconds of silence, then, in my mind:


    ¡®Third torch to the right, turn it clockwise, it will open a tunnel to the outside of the forbidden forest.¡¯ I felt the mental eye roll inside my head.


    I followed the instructions, heard a mechanism through the walls, and the floor and ceiling trembled. Then the ground opened up with a small hatch and a staircase of no more than ten steps, leading to a cavernous tunnel. I had to crouch; the tunnel was about twenty centimeters shorter than my height, approximately one and a half meters. I kept walking, lost in my thoughts.


    ¡®Magnus, are you there?¡¯ I mentally prodded, and there was no answer. I was being ignored. ¡®For a parasite, the least you could do is respond,¡¯ I provoked, mocking. Then:


    ¡®Shut up, you magicless failure, you ruined my plans that took nearly a century to devise.¡¯


    "Wow, a century, that¡¯s quite a long time..." There was no response. After what seemed like several minutes, I continued: "Look, I was randomly thrown into this world, it wasn¡¯t my intention to mess with you, but whatever you were doing in that dungeon didn¡¯t seem like good stuff."


    No response again.


    After a long time, what seemed like a mental sigh: ¡®You really don¡¯t understand anything¡­¡¯ Another pause. ¡®I made so many sacrifices, just for¡­ it all to go right. This was my one last shot, and I lost everything¡­¡¯


    I didn¡¯t know what to say. What was he planning? The bodies, the crystals, the orb, what was he talking about? Did he want to get out of the dungeon? No, that was the second thing he told me... the first was that he wanted me to touch the orb to receive knowledge.


    ¡®Looks like you¡¯re starting to connect the dots¡­ that¡¯s right, your body should be mine now.¡¯


    I stopped walking and spoke mentally:"But it went wrong, why did it go wrong?" There was no response. I stood still thinking and began moving again. "Magicless failure," I said aloud, unable to stop laughing. I felt the internal rage that wasn¡¯t mine.


    "Look, I know your attempt to steal my body failed, but whatever, now you¡¯re inside my body. If I die, you die. Your knowledge could be useful to me. Besides, think of the positive side. You can interact with the world through me; it¡¯s better than being trapped inside a ball." I said in a soothing tone, and again, no response.


    After some time walking, my stomach growled. I¡¯d never gone so long without eating. My nose was clogged, probably because of the humidity I¡¯d been through. It must have affected my sinusitis. When I came out of the narrow tunnel, I realized I was on a beach that stretched for miles. The exit was hidden by rocks.


    ¡®Where to now, master of mages?¡¯ I thought in my mind, expecting no response.¡®There¡¯s a map inside the Dimensional Ring.¡¯ I felt an ironic tone, which annoyed me a bit.


    As I began to walk, a voice sounded in my mind:¡®Keep walking, just turn around from the direction you¡¯re heading. Let¡¯s go to Valdora, a port city in the kingdom of Calyndor. By the way, wear the cloak.¡¯


    I stopped my movement and turned around."Finally decided to be useful?" I finished with a sneeze.


    ¡®A weak body, no mana, no name. You are the epitome of what can be called bad luck.¡¯


    I put on the cloak, couldn¡¯t disagree with the comment, and began walking.

 Chapter 9: No Heroes

    Point of View: Lorian Vellorn


    It was dark. Difficult to see for an ordinary person in the low light, but I had grown accustomed to it. Years of doing the same work will do that to you. Dressed in a black overcoat, I scaled the walls of the palace quarters. The cold breeze tugged at my auburn hair.


    No matter the risk of the mission, this was something I had to do myself. I couldn¡¯t leave it to my associates. If you want something done right, do it yourself. My aching fingers had long since grown used to the pain of climbing.


    If only I could fly, this would be so much easier¡­


    After passing two more floors, I finally reached my destination¡ªthe heroes'' quarters. Something was off about the ritual that took place the previous day.


    Three children had stood in the circle, but only one hero was presented to the high nobles.


    The excuse was that the other heroes were still unconscious. I was here to verify that claim. Entering through an empty room attached to the heroes¡¯ floor, I forced open the window.


    The room was simple: a desk, a single bed, a chair, and an office table. It looked like a servant¡¯s quarters, currently unoccupied. I activated a necklace enchanted with a complex deterrence spell. It didn¡¯t make me invisible; it was simpler than that. It cast a magical hypnosis, making me unnoticeable. No one would remember my presence.


    I hope I don¡¯t run into a powerful mage or someone particularly perceptive, I murmured, opening the door to the room.


    The corridor was immaculate, with red carpets muffling my footsteps and magical torches lining the walls. Every detail screamed the kingdom¡¯s opulence, but there was tension in the air as well. This was a place of power and intrigue, where any misstep could be costly.


    I walked calmly to the first room I needed to check. A soldier stood guard outside the closed door. He couldn¡¯t see me, of course, but there was no way to open the door and check inside. I retrieved another magical item from my pocket: a keystone with a small hole in the middle. Bringing it to my right eye, I could see a mana signature covering the entire room. Alarming¡­


    I moved to the next room. Another soldier stood guard. Looking through the keystone again, I saw another mana signature, but something felt off. The intensity seemed like that of an average mage. The next room revealed a similar situation.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    What is going on?


    A creaking door interrupted my thoughts. I looked in both directions down the corridor. The sound came from the first room. Light spilling through the door¡¯s gap illuminated the surroundings slightly.


    ¡°Oh, Miss Tanaka, still awake?¡± I heard the guard speak.


    A soft voice responded, ¡°I can¡¯t sleep. I thought I¡¯d go for a walk.¡±


    Still holding the keystone, I examined her mana signature. Aberration was the only word that came to mind.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll accompany you,¡± the guard offered quickly.


    ¡°No need. I¡¯m not fond of being followed around. I¡¯ll be back shortly,¡± she replied, beginning to move. Her blonde hair was tied back; she looked like a twelve-year-old child yet carried the air of a seasoned general. She wore leather pants and a white shirt, a departure from the ritual¡¯s ceremonial attire. The direction she was heading in¡­ was towards me.


    I quickly pressed myself against the wall, making room for her to pass, and waited. Her footsteps, for some reason, filled the moment with tension, growing heavier with each step. She wasn¡¯t a concern; she wasn¡¯t a trained mage. I just needed to wait. I pocketed the keystone.


    When our eyes met, a chill ran down my spine. It wasn¡¯t just her abnormal mana signature; it was the way her gaze seemed to pierce through more than what was visible. There was something deeply unsettling about her, something that urged me to stay as far away as possible, even as my curiosity screamed to do the opposite.


    Did she see me?


    Then, looking toward the end of the corridor, she walked past me. Not a word was exchanged. My heart raced.


    She didn¡¯t see me. It was a coincidence.


    I began moving toward the room I had entered through.


    But what if she did see me? Should I kill her? That would surely make things worse.


    I needed to stay focused. The most important thing now was to understand what was happening. The mana signatures in the other rooms belonged to ordinary people. This shouldn¡¯t be the case.


    I could think of three possibilities. First: only one hero was summoned to this world, and the king is pretending there are three to gain political power. Second: the heroes were summoned, but only one is truly skilled¡ªan aberration, to put it bluntly. Finally: this kingdom has a long history of magical research that other nations deem unethical. Perhaps the other two heroes, unlike Kaori, aren¡¯t as impressive and are being dissected. The signatures in the rooms might just be decoys.


    I have to get to the bottom of this. Such information could undoubtedly be used to pull some of this kingdom¡¯s strings or even traded for other favors or intel. It¡¯s only a matter of time.


    I began descending the walls. If it weren¡¯t for those damned mages, I could come and go as I pleased. One thought kept nagging at me, no matter how much I tried to push it aside.


    Did she see me?


    If she were an ally, my mission would become infinitely easier. My routine of espionage and sabotage had taught me to deal with dangers, but her presence was a threat I couldn¡¯t ignore. Could she be convinced to fight for the people rather than serve the royalty and nobility blindly? Evaluating her character would be indispensable.

 Chapter 10: First Impressions I

    Point Of View: Kaori Tanaka


    Mentally exhausted, I couldn¡¯t sleep. It was just too much information to absorb. I had died and ended up in another world; anyone would be in absolute shock. On top of that, people I didn¡¯t know were asking me to save them from a threat I didn¡¯t yet understand. "The Lords," from what little I understood, were beings who had transcended mana, controlling the fundamental aspects of nature and reality.


    The last thing I remember from my previous life was the sound of sirens and the ground shaking as if it were alive. I was in an underground bunker, holding my little sister in my arms, trying to protect her while she cried silently. Every solution mixed with the chaos around us, making the scene even more desperate.


    The air inside the bunker was thick, heavy with the metallic scent of destruction. With each tremor, I wondered if Hiroshima still existed or if everything had ended. Holding my sister was my only way of coping with the fear, a silent promise that we would be together until the end.


    Then, the shelter couldn¡¯t hold up? What happened to my family?


    The gardens around me reflected the touch of the full moon on the flower petals. The atmosphere was quiet. The only sounds were the cool breeze ruffling my now blonde hair and my own breath. I was sitting on a bench, lost in my own thoughts.


    In addition to the sense of not being myself, there was another thing that made me uneasy. Some kind of fabric covered me, an invisible fabric. There were no physical or mental sensations about it. It was more like a sensation beyond the body.


    After the meeting with the king, I had a lengthy conversation with Abimael, the Supreme Mage of the kingdom that was now my home. I learned a few important things: I had abilities beyond the ordinary, there were two other heroes who had been summoned but were still recovering, and the Lord representing the greatest threat was Demon Lord Drakir, though there were others. These were the three most important pieces of information from everything that was discussed.


    ¡°How do these idiots expect a child to fight one of the Lords?¡± I heard a voice from the direction of one of the garden trees. I stood up in a defensive stance.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± I asked, a bit distressed.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fear, girl, I didn¡¯t come here to harm you.¡± The voice resonated.


    I looked at the tree, trying to locate the source of the sound, but couldn¡¯t find it. A black cat jumped out of the leaves. Its eyes were like black pearls filled with stars. A talking cat? Was I really in a fantasy world after all?


    ¡°What do you want?¡± I asked more calmly.


    ¡°I felt a great magic signature appearing in this world and came to investigate.¡± The cat sat down, its tail swaying back and forth as it stared at me.


    So cute.


    ¡°Magic signature?¡± I asked, more curious than scared. The feline in front of me didn¡¯t seem too frightening. And though I was eager to learn about my abilities, I was still interested in hearing what it had to say.


    ¡°A magic signature is a particularity. Every individual has one, and it varies in intensity, density, and thickness. Even though your signature isn¡¯t intense, it is dense and thick.¡± The cat replied. I noticed that it didn¡¯t move its lips when speaking. The sound simply spread through the air. So that was the sensation I had been feeling around me¡ª a signature.


    How is it speaking? Is it using magic?


    ¡°I see, but you didn¡¯t answer who you are. A spy?¡± It seemed plausible that someone might take the form of a cat to spy on other realms. That was the first thing that came to mind.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you see? I¡¯m just a black cat. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I must leave.¡± The cat climbed the tree and disappeared into the foliage.


    What just happened here?


    I had many strange encounters today. Besides the mysterious cat, I encountered another peculiar figure: a red-haired man standing in the hallway outside my room. When our gazes met, I saw the purest fear in his eyes, as if he feared me deeply. I couldn¡¯t blame him; ever since I arrived here, I felt different, more powerful. It was an uncomfortable power, like a burden I hadn¡¯t asked for, but at the same time, it gave me a strange sense of security.


    What am I capable of?


    After failing to understand the situation, I returned to my room. I sank into the bed; I was terrible with puzzles. My body and mind felt heavy. From what I understood, the coming years would be filled with intense magical, physical, and intellectual training. I felt lonely. I just wanted to go home¡­ Tears ran down my face. I was crying, my chest aching. I didn¡¯t want to be here¡­


    I closed my eyes, trying to bring the faces of my family to mind. A sweet memory took form: a normal breakfast before going to school. I saw my little sister¡¯s mischievous smile as she made a mess with her food. My dad, always in a rush, barely had time to eat, and my mom, patient as always, cleaned up the mess they both made. It was a chaotic scene, but full of love, and just reliving it made my heart tighten.


    I knew I couldn¡¯t keep crying forever. The world ahead of me was vast, filled with mysteries and promises of something new. I had lost so much, but I also had the chance to start over. I wasn¡¯t going to let fear and pain define me. I would explore, discover what this new world had to offer, and make the most of the opportunities that arose. I couldn¡¯t afford to remain stuck in the past. The future was right there, waiting to be conquered, and I was determined to see what the best of it had in store for me.

 Chapter 11: First Impressions II

    Point Of View: Kaori Tanaka


    The morning began with sword training. I spent long hours swinging a metal rod. My arms trembled, sweat dripping from my forehead. Who would have thought such a simple exercise could be so exhausting?


    "How much longer do I have to keep swinging this thing?" I asked, my voice heavy with the strain of the effort. Captain Gregor Olindar had a stern look. A scar ran across his left eye, and his white hair betrayed his age. He wore silver armor and exuded a heroic dignity that far surpassed mine.


    "You¡¯re weak. We need to build your muscles before teaching you any technique," he said in an almost brutal tone. "You¡¯ll keep swinging that sword day after day until its weight feels like paper to you." His eyes were intense, as if he could see right through me.


    Do I really have to go through this? What if I just ran away? It wasn¡¯t like I had any moral obligation to these people. I didn¡¯t ask to be reincarnated. A smile crossed my face as I realized I was thinking like a child. The best thing to do was to make the most of this opportunity and absorb as much knowledge about this world as possible.


    In the afternoon, I had lessons with the Supreme Mage. His vast laboratory was filled with various tubes and strange creatures inside them¡ªcreatures that didn¡¯t exist in my world. Abimael and his team wore white robes. As I approached, I noticed his thin frame, triangular face, and pearl-like eyes. His long, black hair was tied back in a ponytail.


    "Miss Tanaka, you¡¯re here!" He spread his arms as if to embrace me, but I took a step back. "I¡¯m glad to see you¡¯re doing well. How was your sword training?"


    "Excruciating, pure torture," I replied, crossing my arms and wincing at the memory of the pain.


    "Well, Gregor can be a bit harsh, but it¡¯s for your own good. Your magic training will be basic for now. I¡¯ll teach you the fundamentals and give you an exercise to practice."


    He walked to a whiteboard and gestured toward a corridor formed by two long tables. With a wave of his hand, one of the assistants brought me a quill, ink, and a small notebook. I sat down, opening the blank notebook.


    "Let¡¯s start with the basics. Mana is the essential component of magic; it¡¯s what mages use to cast spells. This world you now live in is filled with mana, but don¡¯t be mistaken¡ªit¡¯s not a particle. It¡¯s more like a fabric that envelops the world." He paused and sighed, signaling for me to continue taking notes.


    "This is because the world itself is alive, and all living things have mana. The fabric of a mage, monster, magical item, or anything else is called a ¡®magical signature¡¯ because mana varies in intensity, density, and the space it occupies. Of course, this signature, like the mana covering the world, is mutable, but not instantly¡ªit takes long periods. In monsters, mana changes more slowly due to their lack of rationality. More rational monsters are dangerous because they can grow stronger." He paused again. "Kaori, what do you think a mana signature represents when we analyze and compare it?"This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    It was a lot of information at once. My attention was split three ways: writing, listening, and thinking of an answer.


    "Power?" I asked, uncertain.


    "The ability to manipulate magic¡ªthe capacity to interfere with reality itself. Other aspects are also essential to define a mage¡¯s power, such as physical and mental resilience. Magic is taxing, after all, much like contracting a muscle. All these aspects together form a mage¡¯s power." He smiled. "In that sense, you¡¯re still weak. But don¡¯t worry; that will change."


    After what felt like nearly an hour of explanations, he picked up a wooden box from one of the tables. Opening it, he took out a quill and a scroll.


    "Our lesson is coming to an end. This scroll discusses magic and intention. Read it, and we¡¯ll discuss it in the next class. Use the quill to practice your magical intent. I want you to learn to move the quill from one hand to the other."


    Point Of View: Abimael


    The girl simply didn¡¯t seem interested in what I was saying, as if she were there out of sheer obligation. This could be a problem in the future if it hindered her true potential. I walked down the white corridor. Today was the day to collect reports from the artificers and inventors. The two most important research objects on my list were the soulless bracelets.


    I entered the room where the experiment was being conducted. A gray-haired man in his sixties was standing in front of one of the test subjects. An elf?


    ¡°Professor Richter Vans March,¡± I called out, looking at him. ¡°I¡¯m here to check on the experiment. Have you made any progress?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Supreme Mage! We¡¯re gathering data. These divine artifacts are truly unique. Due to the differences in how we, the lesser beings, cast magic, it may take some time. But as you instructed, I¡¯ve switched the test subjects to girls who are approximately the same age as the final user.¡±


    He walked over to a table covered with scrolls. I glanced at the elf, who had a lifeless look in her eyes and was dressed in a plain white tunic.


    He rolled up a scroll that had been open on the table. ¡°Here, take this. It¡¯s a report on the current progress. We¡¯re analyzing the different effects under the perspective of varying amounts of mana. The runes on this magical item certainly seem otherworldly. While replicating them isn¡¯t possible, it¡¯s still feasible to understand enough to control them.¡±


    I accepted the scroll. There was no need to reprimand the researcher or rush him; we had time. ¡°Do you think you can finish this work within two years?¡±


    As I asked this question, a loud crash shook the walls. Beakers rattled and fell to the floor. Richter lost his balance and steadied himself on the table.


    ¡°What was that?¡± I asked, alarmed.


    A boy burst through the door, his face pale with urgency. ¡°We¡¯re under attack!¡±

 Chapter 12: The Supreme Mage I

    <b>Point of View: Magnus Bridge</b>


    The sun was nearly setting when we arrived. I had spent most of the time rummaging through the memories of this vessel. There was an abundance of information and knowledge, much of which might take eons for the people of this world to achieve. While most of the memories revolved around money and wealth, there was still a significant amount of advanced knowledge.


    In one memory, we were in what looked like a library. He was reading a book about something called "Chemistry," a science from a more advanced world. The people of that world had studied the essence of nearly everything that existed. Such knowledge could completely transform the continent of Valezion if it ever reached here.


    The memories shifted again. This time, we were in a caf¨¦. He was talking to a man about something related to financial investments. I couldn¡¯t fully grasp what it was about.


    Reality seemed to crack. Suddenly, the memory changed once more. We were back in the dungeon. My assistant was on the ground, bleeding. I couldn¡¯t help but notice the resemblance between the two.


    <i>What a cruel joke...</i>


    The cracks intensified, and our consciousnesses began to merge. It was clear that this body would not withstand such pressure. But the worst part was the idea of losing my sense of self. I couldn¡¯t let that happen.


    With effort, I retreated into my own mind and visualized a massive wall rising between us. A solid barrier, separating what was me and what was Roosevelt. As I built it, it crumbled repeatedly, but after what felt like a hundred attempts, I managed to keep us partially separated.


    Then, the world, which had been on the brink of collapse, finally calmed down...


    ¡®Magnus...¡¯ he called me again, pulling me out of my trance. It was starting to get irritating; I hated being interrupted when I was learning something new. ¡®Magnus, why is everyone staring at me? Even the guards at the port entrance backed away when they saw me...¡¯


    Well, the truth was that the cloak he was wearing was a symbol of authority. Anyone on this continent would recognize it, especially in Calyndor, where I was born. But that¡¯s not what I told him.


    ¡®They¡¯re staring at you because you¡¯re incredibly ugly,¡¯ I replied sarcastically. ¡®In any case, take advantage of the situation. Someone weak carrying numerous treasures can be robbed at any moment. It¡¯s good that they fear you.¡¯ I could feel his irritation before he sighed in reluctant agreement.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡®So, where should I go now? I need food, a place to sleep, and most importantly, money,¡¯ he asked. The shared mind made me feel a bit of empathy. He was lost. ¡®I¡¯ll guide you to a blacksmith where you can sell the magical crystals and get some resources. But we won¡¯t sell all of them; they might come in handy,¡¯ I replied. It wasn¡¯t a lie. To keep this body alive until I resolved the situation, we needed power. Even though he didn¡¯t have magic, there were magical alternatives that could put him on par with a weaker mage.


    As we walked, he looked around, attentive. The city was as lively as ever. The smell and noise of commerce mingled with the salty ocean breeze. Valdora was a good starting point because it was somewhat isolated from the capital, but we couldn¡¯t stay here for long. The cloak we wore drew attention, and rumors spread quickly. We might have a few weeks to get organized.


    Everything seemed to revolve around the port: fishing boats arriving with full nets, merchant ships unloading crates from distant lands, and sailors sharing tales that sounded more like legends.


    The wooden and stone houses climbed the hills, offering views of the endless ocean. Taverns were lit and bustling with life. Merchants shouted their offers, while children ran between the stalls, laughing and hiding behind barrels.


    ¡®Stop,¡¯ I said abruptly. ¡®Turn your body 90 degrees counterclockwise.¡¯ Then, the blacksmith¡¯s shop came into view. The best place to sell magical crystals was to a craftsman.


    ¡®Is it there? What does the sign say?¡¯ He was looking at a sign above the reddish wooden door. Through the windows, weapons reflecting the sunlight gave the shop a magical aura.


    ¡®You can¡¯t read?¡¯ I questioned. That was odd. Summoned heroes received basic information about this world, such as languages and mathematics. Whatever brought this boy here did so with complete negligence and irresponsibility.


    ¡®Magnus... shouldn¡¯t there be some kind of automatic translation? How can I even understand you?¡¯ As expected, this vessel was intelligent. If we couldn¡¯t communicate, everything would be exponentially more difficult.


    ¡®Intention. When we were in the dungeon, the intention behind my words went directly into your mind through magic. And, well, now that I¡¯m inside your mind, there¡¯s no need for magic for that,¡¯ I paused. I could translate the information for him, but that would be a hassle. ¡®Let¡¯s do this: I¡¯ll translate what people say to you and replicate the sounds you need to make so they understand you. After that, we¡¯ll take a few weeks for you to learn the language used in Calyndor.¡¯


    ¡®And what exactly do I have to do in return?¡¯ His mental question was filled with distrust. I found it strange; I was probably the most trustworthy person in this world. I took a deep breath¡ªit¡¯s not like I could punish him.


    ¡®You¡¯ll help me rid myself of your miserable existence. I need to find a vessel for myself. I don¡¯t want to be stuck inside your worm-brained head,¡¯ I replied, exchanging barbs as the only possible punishment for now.


    ¡®That sounds fine to me, but I have one condition: the vessel must be someone rotten inside. I don¡¯t want to punish an innocent person. As for the language, it seems completely different from my world. It¡¯d be like learning Russian or Mandarin,¡¯ he remarked. I searched his mind for information about what he just mentioned.