The morning sun had barely risen over the capital, but the interior of the royal research wing was already alive with activity.
The marble hallway was cold beneath Seiji's bare feet, his breath faintly visible as he exhaled. The sharp, sterile scent of herbs and parchment filled the air this part of the castle felt entirely different from the warm, candlelit halls he'd seen the night before.
Here, everything felt… precise.
Dozens of scholars in long blue robes moved between tables laden with scrolls, crystal apparatuses, strange metallic instruments humming with faint blue light. Magic circles carved into the floor pulsed slowly like a heartbeat. Every corner of the chamber whispered of knowledge and control.
And Seiji hated how small it made him feel.
"Do not wander." Father Lucien said gently beside him as they approached a large chamber with a domed ceiling of stained glass. "This is not a place forgiving to reckless steps. Every rune you see has a purpose and most will not be kind to someone the world does not acknowledge."
"Yeah, yeah." Seiji muttered, rubbing his arms. He wore a simple tunic they'd given him nothing fancy, just enough to keep him warm in the chilled air. "Wouldn't want to accidentally step on a glowing rune and explode."
Lucien smiled faintly. "An exaggeration… though not entirely inaccurate."
The great door creaked open with a groan that echoed across the room. Inside, the chamber was circular, with three raised stone platforms forming a triangle around the center. Each was occupied by scholars whose robes bore golden threads marking them as Royal Scholars.
And at the very center of the floor, etched into the stone like a living wound, was a summoning circle only this one was inverted. Runes spiraled inward, converging on the single iron chair placed in the middle.
"That seat looks way too ominous to be comforting.." Seiji muttered.
"It is not meant to comfort." Lucien replied, gesturing for him to follow. "It is meant to reveal."
A man stepped forward from the nearest platform a tall, thin scholar with streaks of silver in his dark hair. His face was sharp, and his amber eyes held a weight that spoke of years spent chasing truths most men feared.
"Father Lucien." he greeted with a slight bow. "I see the newest summoned one is awake."
Lucien inclined his head. "Indeed. Seiji Daiki this is Arch-Scholar Harvan Eldros, Head of Royal Research."
Harvan's gaze slid over Seiji like a scalpel. Not malicious, but coldly analytical. "Hm. He doesn't look like much."
Seiji raised a brow. "Gee, thanks."
The scholar ignored the comment, turning instead to Lucien. "Another anomaly with no mana signature. Records will have to be adjusted again."
"I'm standing right here, you know." Seiji said flatly.
Harvan tilted his head. "Yes. That is precisely why I said it aloud. Sit."
Lucien gave Seiji a slight nod a silent go along with it.
Seiji sighed and moved toward the iron chair, lowering himself carefully into it. The metal was cold, almost unnaturally so, sending a shiver through his spine. The scholars began chanting softly, and the runes on the floor lit up in a slow ripple.
Lines of faint blue light crawled up the legs of the chair, wrapping around the metal like veins. The air buzzed faintly not like electricity, but like… presence.
Harvan stepped closer, adjusting a crystal lens over his eye. "Hmm. As expected, the flow is disrupted. No alignment with elemental frequency."
Lucien folded his hands. "He has questions." he said softly. "Perhaps… answer them while you work."
"Very well." Harvan replied without looking up. "Speak, summoned one."
Seiji exhaled, trying not to feel like a lab rat in a cage. "I just want to know something straight." he said. "The ones who came before me… the other summoned people. Did any of them actually adapt? Y'know unlock mana? Become proper heroes or whatever you people expected?"
The room stilled for a moment.
Several scholars glanced at each other. Some with pity. Others with thinly veiled disdain.
Harvan was silent for a moment longer, then slowly lowered his crystal lens. "Yes," he said finally. "a bunch."
That made Seiji's heart skip slightly. "So it is possible?"
"Yes," Harvan continued. "But at a cost most would not bear. You see, the world will not grant recognition freely. Those people who have adapted… they forced themselves into its fabric through training, blood, and pain. They carved themselves a place in a world that rejected them."
Seiji's expression darkened. "So basically, they suffered their way into existence."
Lucien lowered his gaze slightly. "Power here is never free."
Seiji leaned back against the chair, cold metal biting his skin. "And those people… are they still alive?"
Harvan adjusted a small crystal sphere, its glow reflecting in his eyes. "A few lived long enough to become war banners. The rest… faded into dust."
"...That's not exactly encouraging." Seiji muttered.
Lucien stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on the arm of the chair. "But it is truth. And truth, Seiji Daiki, is the foundation of all knowledge."
The runes brightened further, their light brushing against his skin like cold water. Seiji winced. The sensation wasn't painful, just… wrong. Like the world itself was trying to grasp something that didn't fit.
Harvan's voice cut through the hum. "Your body does not resonate with any element. No wind, no flame, no earth, no water."
"What does that mean exactly?" Seiji asked.
"It means.." Harvan said dryly, "you are more of a ghost than a guest in this realm. The world acknowledges your presence but not your being. You are here, but not of here."
"...Great. Thanks for the uplifting metaphor."
Lucien gave a faint, patient smile. "Do not let their bluntness wound you. Knowledge in this hall is spoken with little regard for emotion."
"Yeah, I'm starting to notice."
As the scholars continued their measurements and rune calibration, Seiji's mind drifted. The idea of being in another world had always carried a kind of thrill in his imagination back on Earth magic, power, adventure, maybe even a harem if he was being honest with himself.
But this wasn't like any of those stories.
This world didn't want him.
This world didn't recognize him.
"…Then what the hell am I supposed to do?" he muttered under his breath.
Lucien's soft voice answered almost immediately. "Learn. Listen. Understand this world, Seiji Daiki. Only then will you find where you stand in it."
Seiji raised his head slightly. "…Then tell me about it. This world."
Lucien and Harvan exchanged a brief glance. Then the Arch-Scholar nodded slowly.
"Very well," Harvan said. "You will know what kind of land you stand upon."
He gestured, and one of the apprentices approached with a large map old, worn, and carefully rolled in silk. With reverence, the apprentice unfurled it on a nearby table. It showed a massive continent with jagged coastlines and wide seas, mountains like scars across its face.
Lucien moved closer to the map, his eyes softening with the weight of history.
"This world," he began slowly, "is called Eldralis. A realm of magic, blood, faith, and unending struggle. It is not bound by a single throne, but by the clash of many."
Harvan pointed to the upper left of the map, a region shaded in gray and blue.
"The Iron Fjords," he said. "Land of the North. Endless winters. A place where only the strong endure. Its people are sea raiders and warriors, living by the sword and the storm. Their ships haunt the northern seas, striking like wolves upon unguarded shores. Their magic is primal bound to wind, frost, and blood. No emperor reigns there. Only jarls. Only strength."
Seiji looked closer at the illustration. It showed fjords like jagged teeth biting into the ocean. "So basically… Vikings." he muttered.
Lucien tilted his head. "I do not know what that word means, but yes… a fitting comparison, perhaps."
Harvan moved his finger to the east of the map, a large golden region with a sigil of a crowned lion.
"The Valdheim Empire." he said. "The heart of the world. A realm of structured law, iron discipline, and ambition. This is where you were summoned. The empire of King Ragnvald. It is a land of soldiers and scholars, of cities built on conquest and industry. Their magic is methodical. Runes. Arrays. Bound to law and structure."
"Sounds… organized." Seiji said.
Lucien smiled faintly. "And ruthless, when ambition demands it."
Then Harvan traced the map downward, to a cluster of islands painted dark green and black surrounded by swirling waves and ominous marks.
"The Sunken Isles," he continued. "A lawless expanse of pirate havens and cursed waters. No king rules there. Only captains. Their fleets roam the seas freely, preying on all who enter their reach. It is said the waters themselves whisper old curses, old powers. Those who sail them return either rich… or never return at all."
Seiji leaned closer. "So pirates are actually real here, huh? That's… kind of cool."
Lucien chuckled softly. "Do not mistake romance for reality. The Sunken Isles are not a place of adventure. They are a graveyard wearing a grin."
Finally, Harvan tapped the lower left of the map, a vast green expanse covered in forests, rivers, and mountains.
"The Verdant Dominion," he said. "The forest kingdoms. Home to druids, spirits, and creatures older than human empires. They bow to no king, ally with no crown. Their laws are older than ours, and their magic… is alive."
Seiji frowned. "Alive?"
Lucien nodded. "Their magic is not cast. It is breathed. It flows through root and leaf, through the very bones of the earth. They are a people who do not build kingdoms… because the forest itself is their kingdom."
Seiji stared at the map. Iron Fjords. Valdheim Empire. Sunken Isles. Verdant Dominion.
Four great powers. Four pillars of a world already full before he even arrived.
"So where do I fit into all of this?" he asked quietly.
Lucien placed a hand on his shoulder. "That, Seiji Daiki, is the question every summoned soul must answer on their own."
The runes beneath the chair flared again, stronger this time. Seiji winced, his hands gripping the armrest as the world's rejection pulsed through his veins like ice.
Harvan's voice came from somewhere distant. "This reaction confirms it. His soul isn't anchored to Eldralis. He can remain here… but the world will never fully claim him."
Lucien's eyes softened. "Then he will have to claim it instead."
Seiji opened his eyes, jaw clenched. For a moment, the map blurred in his vision. Four continents. A kingdom expecting a hero. A world that didn't want him.
But that only made the fire burn hotter in his chest.
If this world won't claim me, he thought, then I'll carve my name into its history anyway.
The magic circle pulsed again. The examination wasn't over.
And neither was he.
The heavy doors of the research wing closed behind Seiji with a low groan, sealing away the cold hum of runes and the sharp stares of scholars.
Outside, the air felt different. Lighter. Not because anything in this world welcomed him but because the suffocating weight of being examined like an object had finally lifted.
Lucien walked beside him in silence as they made their way down a long arched corridor. The late afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass, spilling golden and crimson light onto the stone floor. The colors shifted over Seiji's skin like quiet flames, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the world itself was watching him.
He didn't like that feeling.
"…Hey," Seiji finally muttered, breaking the silence. "So… that wasn't exactly comforting in there."
Lucien's lips curved into a soft, almost enigmatic smile, his silver hair catching the light like threads of moonlight woven into day. "It never is, Seiji Daiki. The truth of summoning is rarely wrapped in comfort."
"I mean, being told the world doesn't want me? That's not exactly a warm welcome."
Lucien tilted his head slightly, his voice calm. "Then carve your own welcome, Seiji Daiki. That is what all summoned souls must do."
Seiji stuffed his hands into his pockets, exhaling sharply. "Easier said than done."
They emerged into an open archway. Warm sunlight spilled in. A breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers and the faint sweetness of mint. It was a world away from the sterile, rune-soaked halls.
"Where are we headed?" Seiji asked, squinting against the sudden brightness as they emerged.
Lucien extended a graceful hand toward the expanse beyond, his voice carrying a note of quiet reverence. "The Garden of Life. A sanctuary amid the stone and steel of Valdheim Castle. Here, the world's essence breathes freely."
Seiji stepped out, and for a moment, the world softened.
The garden stretched wide and circular, enclosed by white stone pillars entwined with ivy. Trees with silver-veined leaves whispered in the breeze. Flowers of colors he'd never seen before shimmered faintly as if starlight had woven into their petals. Small winged creatures no bigger than his thumb flitted above the blossoms glowing faintly, leaving trails of light like fireflies.
And at the very center stood a fountain.
But it wasn't the water that caught his attention.
It was the statue.
A tall, faceless figure carved in smooth white stone. It stood barefoot on the fountain's pedestal, cloaked in flowing robes, arms spread slightly outward. Though featureless, it emanated something powerful. Not divine. Not cruel. But enduring.
"Who's that supposed to be?" Seiji asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the garden's fragile peace.
Lucien stepped beside him, his gaze lingering on the statue with a reverence that felt ancient, etched into his very bones older than the castle's foundations, perhaps older than the world itself. "He," Lucien murmured, his tone soft yet weighted with history, "was the first."
Seiji blinked. "…The first?"
"The first ever summoned hero to set foot into this world." Lucien's hands clasped behind his back, his posture straight but not rigid, as if he were reciting a tale he'd told a thousand times yet still felt deeply.
"Four thousand years ago, long before Valdheim wore its crown of gold. When this world was torn by war, plague, and famine, our ancestors sought salvation through the forbidden arts. They tore open the boundary between realms… and called him here."
The breeze shifted, stirring the flowers at their feet. Seiji stared up at the faceless statue. There was no inscription, no name. Just a quiet, watchful presence.
"What happened to him?" Seiji asked.
Lucien's voice grew distant. "He became what the world needed most a light. They say he was the first to unlock the flow of mana despite being foreign to Eldralis. His very existence changed the balance of the realm. Through his strength, the warring continents were forced to the table. Through his resolve, the first Great Peace was forged. And when his time came… he died not as a hero, but as a man who chose this world as his own."
For a heartbeat, the wind stilled.
Seiji swallowed hard. "So he… never went back."
"No,"Lucien answered softly. "None of them ever did."
The words sat heavy in Seiji's chest. No way back.
He'd told himself he was ready. He'd told himself he'd face anything. But now, standing in this garden with a nameless statue and centuries of history staring down at him, it finally hit him.
He might never see his parents again.
Lucien seemed to sense the quiet shift in Seiji's breathing. "Seiji Daiki." he said gently, "you asked before what your purpose here is. Why you were summoned. The truth is… even we no longer fully know. Our ancestors began this summoning ritual to protect this world. But over the centuries, not all summoned heroes walked the path of light."
Seiji's brow furrowed. "…So you mean?"
Lucien's gaze turned toward the distant horizon, where sunlight painted the sky gold. "After the First Hero's death, the peace he built fractured. New kings rose. Empires hungered. And new heroes were summoned again and again each one carrying the potential to save or to ruin."
A gust of wind rustled the silver leaves.
"Some," Lucien continued, "brought balance. Others… brought fire and death. Some sought to be rulers. Others became tyrants."
Seiji let out a quiet breath. "So, basically… this whole hero thing isn't exactly a fairytale."
Lucien gave a quiet chuckle. "No, child. It never was."
Seiji looked back at the statue. "And King Ragnvald? That guy who looked at me like I was gum stuck to his boot. I'm guessing he's not a fan of 'heroes' anymore."
Lucien turned to him, expression unreadable for a moment. "King Ragnvald has carried burdens most cannot even name. Every hero summoned in his lifetime has walked a path he could not control. Some he has killed with his own hands."
Seiji stiffened slightly. "…Killed?"
"Yes.." Lucien said quietly. "When heroes become conquerors. When they see this world as a playground. When they choose to burn rather than build."
The air between them grew colder.
Seiji kicked lightly at the stones beneath his feet. "No wonder he looked pissed when he saw me."
A small smile ghosted across Lucien's face. "He does not hate you, Seiji Daiki. He hates what the word 'hero' has become."
"…Still. That guy looked like a big, ruthless… uh, no offense but fat king."
Lucien suddenly let out a genuine laugh, soft and unexpected. It echoed lightly through the garden. "Ah, appearances can deceive." he said. "No offense taken. But your eyes are young. They see only the surface."
"So he's not actually fat?" Seiji asked, raising a brow.
Lucien's amusement softened into something quieter. "No." he said at last. "That is not… the truth of him. What you see is but a veil. A deliberate one."
Seiji tilted his head. "Then why the act?"
Lucien folded his hands behind his back, glancing toward the distant spires of the castle. His voice lowered almost a whisper meant for the wind more than for Seiji.
"There are truths bound between us." he said, "truths held only by the King and I. Even heroes are not privy to them."
Seiji frowned slightly but didn't press further. He could hear it in Lucien's tone this wasn't just some royal gossip. Whatever secret he was talking about… it was something heavy. Something dangerous.
Lucien turned back to the statue. "You should know this, however. Ragnvald is not merely a king who wears a crown. He is the strongest in the entirely of eldralis. Stronger than any blade, stronger than any mage. Stronger than any hero that has ever walked through these gates."
"…That's a big claim." Seiji muttered.
"It is no claim." Lucien said simply. "It is truth."
The way he said it sent a chill crawling down Seiji's spine.
Lucien's voice softened again. "But strength alone does not make a king. Burden does."
For a while, they stood in silence. The statue loomed, faceless and silent, as if it too bore witness to their words. The breeze carried the scent of wildflowers. Water trickled softly from the fountain.
Seiji eventually broke the silence. "So, what happens next? I don't have magic. I'm not recognized by this world. The king probably hates me already. I'm… basically useless."
Lucien's expression softened. "You are not useless. Merely unshaped. Every summoned soul begins as a stranger to this land. But what matters is not how the world sees you… it is how you choose to stand within it."
"Yeah.." Seiji muttered. "Sounds poetic. Doesn't exactly help me fight a dragon, though."
Lucien chuckled. "Perhaps not. But every road begins with a single step. And yours has already begun."
Seiji looked at the statue again. He couldn't tell what the First Hero had felt standing here centuries ago. Maybe fear. Maybe hope. Maybe both.
"…You said he was the first to unlock mana," Seiji said finally. "How did he do it?"
Lucien was quiet for a moment, as if weighing his answer. "No one truly knows." he admitted. "What we do know is that he found a way to anchor his soul to this world. To stop being a guest… and become part of its story."
"Anchor…" Seiji repeated softly.
"Yes. And through that anchor, he forced open the gate that separates you from mana. It is not something that can be given. It must be taken."
Seiji clenched his fists slowly. "…Then I'll find it. Whatever he found. I'll anchor myself here."
Lucien's smile was faint, but it carried a hint of pride. "Then perhaps, Seiji Daiki… you are not like the others who came before."
A bell tolled softly in the distance a deep, resonant sound that rolled across the courtyard like thunder wrapped in silk.
Lucien straightened. "The king will convene the court at dusk. The formalities of your summoning are not yet complete. But for now… breathe. Learn the weight of this world. Before you try to shape it."
Seiji looked up at the faceless statue one last time. He didn't have mana. He didn't have power. He didn't even have a place here.
But neither had the First Hero once.
"…Yeah," he whispered under his breath."I'll figure it out."
The statue stood silent, but for a fleeting moment, the wind shifted. The flowers rustled, the fountain whispered, and it almost felt like the garden itself had heard him.