While Ronald whispered to two men who had appeared without me noticing, I saw the tension written all over Sinister's face.
– "What's wrong, Sinister?"
– "Nothing… just stay behind me for a moment."
Worry spread across my face, and the same could be said for Lesia, who also seemed as if she was trying to stop Ronald from doing something.
Suddenly, the entire room shook. A presence so overwhelming that it subdued us all erupted, creating an earthquake merely by standing.
A grave voice resounded, "Ronald."
It was the king. The aura radiating from him was terrifying; I couldn't move an inch. Suddenly, the pressure eased. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued to observe the scene from afar.
The king pulled Ronald aside, speaking to him privately in a place no one could overhear.
"Ronald, what are you thinking? Do you want to execute the hero?"
"Father, his ability is Calamity. You know what that means."
Shock flashed across Alexander's face, but he quickly calmed himself.
"Even so, we cannot judge him for things he hasn't done."
"All users of Calamity are the same, no matter how different they seem at first."
Anger appeared on the king's face as he retorted,
"That's enough. You were about to make a mistake. Perhaps they do end up the same in the end, but right now he is our savior. Do you understand?"
"…Yes, Father. I–I'm sorry."
Alexander turned toward me with his usual warm smile, hiding the fact that Ronald had just tried to have me executed.
"Forgive my son. I know he wronged you with his words."
"It's fine, my lord. I understand his caution. It's hard to trust someone you've just met."
"Thank you for your understanding."
Alexander's gaze shifted toward Sinister, who stood behind me, and began giving him instructions.
"By the way, Hero, have you discovered your ability yet?"
Sinister answered in my place, "He has. His rare ability is Calamity."
"Oh? Truly? That's wonderful. This ability will grant you an advantage in the ceremony, for it is the strongest at every stage. Its flaw, however, is that it is difficult to develop."
"Difficult to develop?" I asked.
Sinister began explaining,
"Let me compare it to Ronald's ability, 'Endless Darkness.' At the first level, Calamity is stronger. But if evolving Calamity to level two takes a week, then evolving Endless Darkness takes four days. In time, Endless Darkness will surpass Calamity. Do you understand?"
"Ah, yes. But what are the requirements for evolution?"
"I don't know either. You must discover them on your own. Each person has unique requirements."
And with those words, the truth was hidden from me completely.
The king spoke again, "We must find someone to train you."
Ronald quickly volunteered, "Father, leave this task to me."
"Are you sure, Ronald? It may be difficult."
He whispered, "I want to watch him closely… and also make up for what I said earlier."
"Hmm, very well. Sinister, take them to the training grounds."
A bad feeling lingered within me… Fortunately, we hadn't left the evaluation grounds yet, since the training field was connected to it. Its closeness spared me from encountering Ryan.
When we entered the training grounds, I was truly stunned this time—not pretending.
The arena had every imaginable tool and piece of equipment. The floor was sandy but kept from spilling into the rest of the castle.
The white walls were decorated with carvings of a fierce battle between two warriors. I asked curiously, "Who is this?"
Lesia's voice followed, "The man with the black sword is the founder of our family—our great ancestor, Altherion. The kingdom is named after him."
"And the one with the crimson sword?"
"One of the Seven Ancient Calamities—Calamity of the Sun, Solarin."
"Calamity of the Sun?"
"The title 'Calamity' is given to beings or individuals who wield immense power capable of destroying entire lands."
"Then… was King Altherion one of the Calamities?"
King Alexander answered, "No. Defeating a Calamity does not mean you can destroy the land. He did the opposite. After his battle with the Calamity of the Sun, he founded this kingdom on the ruins of that battlefield."
He sighed, lost in thoughts of a glorious past long gone and an uncertain future yet to come.
"Well then, Sinister, let's leave. Ronald, train the Hero well, but do not be too harsh on him."
"Yes, Father."
I wanted to ask the king more about the Calamities, but I dared not. The awe of the moment still clung to me.
– "Sinister, are you hiding something from me?"
Caught between his heart and mind, Sinister hesitated.
– "You see…"
Before he could finish, a great voice pierced into his mind, one he hadn't heard in a long time.
[Not now.]
– "…Everything in due time."
With those words, Sinister walked away. I stood there, lost in thought, until a gentle touch on my shoulder pulled me back.
It was Lesia. "Will you stand there like a scarecrow forever? Move."
"…Ah, right." Despite her sharp tongue, her heart did not hold hatred. My guilt only grew heavier.
I followed Ronald, who pointed toward a room in the center of the arena.
"We'll train there."
When we entered, the room was pitch black, void of details except for a plaque beside the door.
"Simulation Chamber. Can replicate any environment with 90% accuracy. Can withstand damage up to the detonation of a high-grade Mana Crystal. Equivalent to a fully loaded fuel truck explosion."
Ronald handed me a sword. "Take this."
Since I had faced worlds with mana before, it didn't take me long to recall how to wield it.
I took the sword. We both assumed stances.
Ronald charged, knocking my sword from my hand in a single strike.
"You're weak."
"I don't know how to coat my blade with mana."
"You'll realize after a few blows."
He lunged at me again, aiming for my chest. I retreated and snatched up my fallen sword.
Swiftly, I rushed at him, feinting a strike toward his head. He ducked, giving me the chance to kick him in the face.
Ronald staggered back, wiping the blow away, his sharp eyes locked on mine.
I charged once more, sliding past him and swinging at his back. But he countered with a quick kick to my stomach, sending me flying.
"…Not bad. In fact, you're quite skilled."
"You too…"
"Do you feel the mana?"
"…Yes." It was true; I had begun to feel it again.
"Then let's raise the level."
The battle grew faster and fiercer. I coated my body with mana and used it with ease.
Ronald swung his sword at my head, but I parried, angling the blade away, forcing his body to tilt with it.
That tilt created an opening. I slashed his shoulder. He clutched it and retreated, blood dripping.
"You're no pushover."
"Thanks."
I pressed again, feinting toward his injured shoulder. His arm moved instinctively to block, but my blade shifted toward his chest, carving a deep wound.
I stepped back, waiting for his next attack, watching his face carefully.
His expression said it clearly: This man is skilled. I cannot defeat him.
Then, suddenly, a mischievous grin crept onto his lips.
He readied his stance and launched a simple thrust. Too far away to reach me. I ignored it and prepared to counter—but then pain seared my stomach and shoulder. Darkness had appeared in front of us, carrying his attack straight into me.
"This is my ability: Endless Darkness. It allows me to teleport instantly, transfer attacks, and store objects. You must learn your opponent's ability before you strike. Now get up… the real fight begins."
By the end of the training, my body was covered in wounds, barely able to stand.
"Are you alright?" Lesia asked.
"Not in the best shape."
"Here."
She handed me a strange fruit resembling an apple.
"What is this?"
"Eat it. It will heal your wounds."
I smiled faintly. "Thank you." I bit into it.
Her warm smile returned. "No need to thank me… Just, next time, try not to be so reckless."
Ronald joined in, breathing heavily, "You're very skilled. Few can match my swordplay even without my ability… but you surpassed me."
"Thanks for the compliment, but I barely managed against your ability."
"Speaking of which—you didn't use yours."
"…Yeah. I don't know how."
"Then tomorrow, we'll focus on that."
A new voice entered the conversation. "Seems like you two are getting along."
A thin man with a scholarly face approached, dressed like Ronald.
Lesia frowned, "What are you doing here, Raphael?"
"I came to see the Hero. Is that a crime?"
"Wouldn't it be better if you finished your work instead of loitering?"
"Look who's talking. I already finished. Spoiled brat."
"That's enough!" Ronald barked, his commanding tone silencing them instantly.
Both replied at once, "Sorry."
He might seem intelligent, but he still couldn't compare to Ryan… though that didn't mean he wasn't shrewd.
"By the way, may I escort the Hero to his room?" Raphael offered.
"…Why?" Ronald asked.
"I just want to speak with him a little. I'm the only one who hasn't."
As he guided me to my quarters, Raphael rambled about the kingdom, his siblings, and how he bore most of the duties while Lesia and Ryan were left with none.
This was my chance to ease suspicion.
"Why was I summoned?"
Human weakness always breeds sympathy. And sympathy always breeds caution. That was the method I would rely on.
He turned to me, startled.
"Didn't Father tell you? You're to save us from evil."
"What is this evil? What nature does it take?"
"A being that seeks to destroy the world. That's what the priests said. Sinister among them."
"Why me, specifically?"
"I don't know. Sinister chose you. You'll have to ask him."
"…I can't."
"Eh? Why not?"
"I'm afraid… afraid of how others will react if they see my unease. I felt I could trust you, that's why I asked."
"You're not the only Hero summoned."
"…What?"
"There are others. You'll face them in the Ceremony of Choosing the Hero's Sword."
I was about to ask about that anyway…
"Does that mean I'm not obligated to be the Hero?"
"No. You're not forced. But we place high hopes on you."
"But this isn't my world. I barely know you."
"You can withdraw anytime, as long as you don't win the ceremony."
We stopped walking.
"Here we are. This is your room."
"Thank you."
"No need. If you ever need anything, come to me. Goodbye. Good night."
"…Good night."
I entered the room and lay on the bed, a smile creeping across my face. After a while, I linked my thoughts with Sinister.
– "How did it go?"
– "It worked, my lord. I fooled the second prince completely. He no longer suspects you."
*******
In the King's Chamber
The room was small yet decorated with countless golden relics and artifacts. Inside were three men: King Alexander, the priest Sinister, and the young prince Raphael.
The king broke the silence:
"So, how did your meeting go?"
Raphael's face was troubled. "You were right, Father… He's just afraid."
Sinister interjected. "May I ask what you are talking about?"
Raphael hesitated. "I suspected the hero was hiding something."
"Hiding… like what?"
"He said he's accustomed to being summoned."
Sinister's face froze in shock. "Accustomed? What do you mean?"
Raphael lowered his eyes. "…It was only speculation."
*******
The Next Day — In the Simulation Room
I stood with Ronald and the knight commander Reinhard Flintstone.
"Now I'll teach you how to use your ability," Ronald said.
"Yes, sir," I replied, then asked, "But how?"
"It's the same as using mana. But instead of coating your body, coat your mind."
"That simple?" I knew it couldn't be that easy. I didn't even remember exactly how much mana was safe to use, and I wasn't sure if the amount differed from other worlds.
"Yes, but applying it is difficult. First, you must—"
I tried to concentrate my mana, attempting to coat my mind. Suddenly, I coughed up blood and collapsed unconscious.
Ronald shouted angrily, "Hey! I warned you! It's difficult — you should have waited for me to finish the explanation!"
But Reinhard interrupted. "Sir, I don't think the bleeding was caused by failure… but by mana depletion."
"What?" Ronald snapped.
Suddenly the ground trembled violently. Ronald lifted me onto his back and rushed out of the chamber.
What he saw stunned him — the entire training grounds lay in ruins. A catastrophic earthquake had swallowed the earth itself.
Ronald steadied himself and began barking orders:
"Men! Get out of the arena! Leave everything behind! If there's a wounded soldier, carry him! If it's a corpse, leave it!"
He hurled me toward Reinhard. "Take him out!"
"What about you, my lord?"
"…I'll save as many as I can. That's my responsibility."
Ronald plunged back into the chaos, using his technique to rescue soldiers one by one. Blood filled his throat from overusing his power, yet he never stopped until the last survivor was dragged to safety. Only then did he collapse unconscious, the final man to leave the ruins.
The quake had devastated only the training grounds — as if the entire arena had been erased from existence. Survivors were rushed to medical care.
While unconscious, all I saw was darkness. From behind it, black hands stretched outward — hands that, if they could, would have torn me apart.
It was a dream. A familiar one. I saw it every night.
I opened my eyes on a hospital bed. Turning my head, I saw Ronald lying on the adjacent bed. For some reason, a knot of worry tightened inside me.
"Ronald…" I whispered. No. I shouldn't worry. In the end, I'm the one who will end this world.
"Ronald!"
"…Shut up. I'm trying to sleep."
"You're alive…"
"Unfortunately. At least until I heard your voice."
"What happened?"
"Your power went out of control. You collapsed from mana depletion."
"Did anyone… get hurt?"
"Many."
His answer hit like a blade. "…How many?"
"Ten dead. Twenty-five critically wounded."
Why do I feel like this? I've destroyed countless worlds. I'm an End Writer. I've killed far more than this. So why does guilt weigh on me now?
"Don't make that face. You'll make me sad."
"I'm sorry…"
"Sorry? What for? It's not—"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
"Calm down! This wasn't entirely your fault. I should have accounted for your power going out of control."
The door opened. A woman in her thirties entered — black hair, stern eyes, a presence heavy with justice.
"I am Mary, vice-commander of the knights. I've come to escort the hero to trial for his crime."
Trial?
Ronald remained calm, as if he had expected this. I, on the other hand, gave no reaction. My face was cold, empty of life. My eyes glanced at her only once before falling back to the floor.
A wheelchair was prepared — I was too weak to walk. Ronald leaned close and whispered:
"Don't worry. The trial is just procedure. A formality to silence the crowd."
*******
The Trial
The hall echoed with angry voices demanding my execution.
"Silence!" barked a judge. Another continued, "The hero will now be tried for his crimes — the killing and injuring of soldiers, the destruction of royal property."
"Hero, do you have anything to say in your defense?"
I remained silent. My thoughts were far away.
Then Ronald's voice rang out. "I object."
"And why is that, First Prince?"
"The hero didn't choose to destroy the arena or kill the soldiers. This was my fault. I failed to account for his power losing control. I will bear whatever punishment you deem fit."
His acting was flawless, as if rehearsed countless times.
"Apologies, but words are not evidence. We need something tangible," a judge responded.
"Look at his face," Ronald retorted. "Does that look like the face of a murderer?"
Prince Raphael stood. "The hero cannot be guilty of intent. He was summoned only yesterday, and according to Priest Sinister, his original world never used mana."
I barely heard them. My mind was elsewhere.
I am an End Writer. My mission is to destroy worlds. I've done so hundreds — no, thousands of times. So why… why do I still feel this? Why haven't I gone numb like the others?
The answer was clear.
I raised my head. "I will be the hero. I will win the ceremony. I will fulfill the mission."
"And why do you believe that?" a judge pressed.
"Because I must atone for my mistakes. I must save more lives than I've taken."
The king finally rose. "I will take responsibility for the damage and the compensation."
"But Your Majesty—"
"What is it? We summoned him. We bear the responsibility. Am I wrong?"
"…No, sire."
"Then the matter is settled. But to avoid further accidents, the hero will be relocated to the kingdom's borders for training."
"Yes, Your Majesty," I answered.
*******
At the Kingdom's Borders
Twenty-eight days remained before the ceremony.
Ronald spoke first. "Hero, we begin training now."
"Now? We just arrived."
Sinister added, "The sooner we start, the better your chances of victory."
A teasing voice came from behind me. "So those words you shouted in the courtroom… were just illusions." It was Lysia.
I groaned. "Why is she here?"
Lysia smirked. "The borders have the best scenery. For me, this is a vacation."
"All days are vacations for you," Ronald muttered before turning to me. "Draw your sword. Face me."
Training began. The first day. The fifth. The tenth. The twenty-first. Until the twenty-seventh.
Our blades clashed, shockwaves driving us apart. I unleashed wind slashes at his vital points, but Ronald slipped away with shallow cuts.
His counterattacks forced me to activate Lightning Form, darting aside. I summoned water and flung it skyward, letting it fall like rain. Each droplet became a guide — when one trembled too soon, I knew where the next attack would strike.
I moved with lightning, weaving through his blows.
"You've grown skilled at using your power," Ronald admitted.
"I have a great teacher," I replied. Gathering every ounce of lightning, I charged. Ronald met me with his sword infused with darkness.
When we clashed, the explosion bathed everything in white.
When the light faded, both our swords were broken. We collapsed to the ground, breathless.
"A draw," Sinister's wise voice echoed, declaring the end of training.
Lysia pouted. "Fine, but what about my vacation?"
"You talk as if you were the one training," I retorted.
"You've destroyed everything! There's no scenery left!"
"You're here," a voice called. Reinhard approached, Mary at his side.
"It's been some time. Looks like you've completely transformed this place."
"What brings you here, Reinhard?" Sinister asked.
"Twenty-seven days have passed. Tomorrow is the ceremony."
"It seems we lost track of time," Sinister said.
"I didn't," Lysia chimed in smugly.
"Enough chatter," Mary ordered. "We must prepare to head to the arena."
On the way, Reinhard turned to me. "Hero, tell me about your ability."
"My ability?"
"The one that reshaped this whole land."
"I can control four elements: wind, water, lightning, and earth. Each has its own use.
– Lightning can be used as a calamity, or to coat my body like mana.
– Air cannot be used as a calamity, but serves for attack and defense.
– Water can only be used as a calamity, but I can release it anywhere.
– Earth can only be used as a calamity."
"Complicated," Reinhard muttered.
"Unfortunately, I haven't been able to develop it yet," I lied.
"…That's natural," Reinhard said smoothly. "Calamities are the hardest powers to develop."
"Oh, look!" Lysia suddenly exclaimed.
Before us stood the colossal colosseum where the Hero's Sword Selection Ceremony would take place. Everyone in the carriage gazed at its majesty… myself included.
— Master End Writer.
— Yes, Sinister?
— Are you nervous?
— A little… I'm nervous about the strength of the other End Writers.
Seven others besides me had been summoned. No, not heroes — but End Writers as well, summoned in other kingdoms across the land.
Quietly, I muttered, "It seems things will only get harder from here."