The morning sun peeked through the mundane glass of the window.
Yagami Leo was sitting on the cold, hard stone floor, his back leaning against the wooden desk, staring blankly at his own bed, folding his hands torpidly.
"Fucking unbelievable," Leo muttered, his voice raspy from a night of zero sleep, watching a man sprawled across the length of the cheap grass mattress, was Kaelen. The giant, scarred mercenary was snoring so loudly that the wooden floorboards were vibrating. He looked like a massive, iron-clad baby. A strand of thick drool was running out of the corner of Kaelen's mouth, pooling onto Leo's only pillow.
"My only pillow," Leo whispered, his eyes twitching, "you giant dumbass. I fix your lighting, I cure your century-old insomnia, and you repay me by drooling a puddle of mercenary spit onto my only source of neck support."
Leo sighed and traced his temples, pressing hardly to soothe pain. He had spent the last fourteen hours sitting on the floor, keeping an eye on the Shadow Slime that was still happily hugging the annoying glowing blue crystal on the ceiling.
In a world full of magic, Leo had realized one very important thing during the long night: He didn't have any mana core.
When he tried to search this body for a 'mana core' or whatever fantasy novels called it, he found absolutely nothing. He couldn't shoot fireballs or a sleep spell. He wasn't a 'Magician' with some mysterious, overpowered system. He was just a regular guy with a degree in psychology, a deep understanding of the human circadian rhythm, and a hatred for bad posture.
Leo preferred this.
"If magic is the reason these idiots are running around like cracked-out squirrels," Leo grumbled to himself, standing up and stretching his stiff back, "then I don't want any of that shit anywhere near me."
Suddenly, the snoring stopped. Kaelen shifted on the bed. The giant groaned, a deep, rumbling sound that shook the room. Slowly, the mercenary reached up and rubbed his face. He blinked his eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
Leo watched him carefully. This was the most important moment in any sleep therapy session: The morning after the first full cycle of REM sleep.
Kaelen lay silent for a minute, and then he slowly sat up. The heavy iron armor he was wearing clanked loudly. Kaelen looked down at his own hands. He opened and closed his fists. He turned his head left, then right. His neck cracked with a loud popping sound.
POP!!
"What... what is this?" Kaelen whispered, his voice softly, confused.
"Good morning, Kaelen," Leo said, leaning against the wall. "How are we feeling today?"
Kaelen slowly turned his head to look at Leo. Leo raised an eyebrow. The transformation was unbelievable and insane. Yesterday, Kaelen's eyes had been a horrifying line of red, bursting blood vessels, surrounded by dark circles that looked like someone had punched him in both eyes.
Today, the red blood vessels are completely gone. The dark, bruising circles under his eyes had faded from a sickly purple to a faint shadow. The violent twitch in his jaw had completely vanished.
"My... my body..." Kaelen murmured, standing up from the bed, skewering into the roof, facing Leo. "It feels... empty. But not weak. The burning in my veins... the constant screaming in my head... it is gone."
Kaelen suddenly gasped, his face twisting into horror, his hands clutching his chest tightly. "By the Goddess! The holy light! It has left me! Have I been stripped of the Aegis? Am I vulnerable to the dream demons?!"
Leo darted his eyes onto Kaelen's sick drama.
"No, you dramatic idiot, you are not stripped of anything," Leo sighed. "You just finally cleared the adenosine buildup in your brain. You slept. For fourteen hours straight. Your body finally got the chance to repair its own torn muscle tissue instead of running purely on adrenaline."
Kaelen stared at him, with a gaze of question mark. "A-what-sine? Is that a high-tier demon lord?"
"It's a chemical in your brain, Kaelen," Leo said, walking over to the desk. "When you stay awake, it builds up. It makes you tired. The magic in your body was just overriding it, basically ignoring the 'check engine' light in your brain. All I did was dim the lights so your brain could finally do its damn job."
Kaelen looked at the ceiling. The Shadow Slime was still up there, blocking the irritating blue light of the Radiant Quartz.
CLANG!!
Kaelen fell to his knees with a loud sound, bowing his head so fast he almost cracked the floorboards.
"Supreme Lord of the Dark Abyss!" Kaelen shouted, his voice echoing in the room.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Leo groaned, rubbing his face.
"I understand now!" Kaelen yelled to the floor. "You are no mere scholar! To tame a beast of the shadows to devour the holy light... to cast my soul into the 'Realm of Ethereal Monsters'—"
"I said REM sleep, Kaelen. Rapid Eye Movement. It's not a realm!" Leo tried to explain.
"—and bring me back reborn!" Kaelen continued, completely ignoring Leo's explanation. "You have washed away three hundred years of the Goddess's burden! I feel the strength of ten men! No, twenty men! My mind is sharper than a newly forged blade!"
It was true. Even kneeling there, Kaelen looked different. His skin had a healthy color instead of a pale, sickly gray. The manic, reverberating energy was replaced by a calm stillness. A well-rested giant with a broadsword was way scarier than a twitching, exhausted one.
"Stand up, Kaelen," Leo ordered, "and stop calling me a Dark Lord. I am a sleep consultant. A therapist, and right now, you are my landlord who owes me a new pillow, because you drooled all over mine like a rabid dog."
Kaelen stood up, his face exhilarated with embarrassment, his eyes drifting towards the wet pillow. "I... I apologize, Scholar Leo. I have never... produced drool from my mouth during the waking hours."
"That's because you weren't awake, you were sleeping," Leo said, grabbing his wooden clipboard and piece of charcoal. "Now, listen to me. Your treatment is not done. Fourteen hours is a good start, but your sleep debt is massive. You need to keep doing this every night. But we have a serious problem."
Kaelen stood at attention, looking ready to go to war. "Name the problem, Lord Leo! I will cut it down!"
"Your bed is complete shit," Leo said bluntly. "It's grass. It's literally dry grass stuffed in a bag. It's an ergonomic disaster. I need a carpenter, a blacksmith who knows how to make coil springs, and someone who sells high-quality cotton or wool. Can you find them in Vespera?"
Kaelen looked shocked. "You wish to build a new altar for the Dark Ritual?"
"I wish to build a fucking mattress, Kaelen. So my back doesn't break in half." Leo pushed Kaelen out, waving his hand toward the door. "Go. Go to your mercenary guild or whatever. Tell them you need a carpenter. But do not tell them I used magic. Tell them I used science. Okay?"
Kaelen nodded solemnly. "I shall guard your dark secrets with my life, Lord Leo. I will fetch the artisans of the wood and the forge. Your new altar shall be glorious."
Before Leo could yell at him again, the giant mercenary turned and marched, with powerful, confident steps.
Leo sighed, looking at the empty doorway. "I'm going to need a lot of chamomile tea to deal with these people."
****
Meanwhile, at the Vespera Mercenary Guild.
The guild hall was a chaotic, loud, and a bright nightmare. Dozens of shimmering Radiant Quartz crystals were hanging from the ceiling, bathing the room in pulsing neon-blue light.
Around fifty mercenaries were packed inside. Every single one of them looked like they were on the edge of a mental breakdown. Some were sharpening swords with frantic, jittery movements. Others were chugging tankards of a glowing green liquid that smelled like acid just to keep their eyes open. They were all shouting, arguing, and surging with the cursed holy mana.
At the front of the hall the Guildmaster is standing, his eyes darting around the guild
He is a massive man named Thorne. Thorne had a mechanical arm and an eye patch, but his one good eye was bloodshot and twitching wildly.
"Listen to me, you undisciplined dogs!" Thorne roared over the noise. "The shadow-beasts are moving closer to the walls! I need three patrols out there right now! Who hasn't done a patrol in the last forty-eight hours?!"
Nobody raised their hand. They had all been awake and fighting for days.
"Where the hell is Kaelen?!" Thorne yelled, slamming his fist on the table. "He missed the morning muster! Someone, go to his house and kick his door down! He was raving about shadows yesterday, I swear to the Goddess if his core burned out—"
BOOM!!
The oak doors of the guild hall were kicked open, slamming the doors against the stone walls so hard the entire building shook.
The guild hall instantly petrified. Fifty hands dropped to fifty sword hilts.
Standing in the doorway was Kaelen.
The mercenaries stared in absolute shock. Where was the twitching? Where was the frantic, panicked breathing? Where were the terrifying purple circles under his eyes?
Kaelen stepped into the guild hall, looking like a god of war who had just stepped out of a painting. He was calm, his breathing was slow and deep. His skin looked healthy, and his eyes were focused, and piercing. He radiated an aura of absolute, terrifying peace.
"Goddess above..." whispered a female rogue sitting near the door. Her own hands were shaking as she stared at him. "Kaelen... you look... you look like you haven't fought a battle in ten years."
Guildmaster Thorne pushed his way through the crowd, staring at Kaelen with his one good eye wide open.
"Kaelen," Thorne said slowly. "What... What happened to you? Did you find a holy relic? Did you drink from the Goddess's own chalice?"
Kaelen stood tall, with a proud mysterious look crossing his scarred face. He remembered Leo's exact words: Do not tell them I used magic. "I have not touched a holy relic, Guildmaster," Kaelen announced, his voice smooth and powerful lacking the usual manic rasp. "I have undergone a ritual of the highest order. A cleansing of the mind and body."
The mercenaries gasped, leaning in closer. "A cleansing?" Thorne asked, stepping closer. "Who performed this? A High Priest from the capital?"
"No," Kaelen said proudly. "It was the Scholar Leo."
The room simmered into confused whispers.
"The frail kid?"
"The one who collapsed from mana exhaustion?"
"That kid can barely lift a dagger, let alone cast a high-tier purification spell!"
"Silence!" Kaelen barked, with the sheer authority in his well-rested voice made half the mercenaries flinch and shut their mouths instantly. Kaelen looked around the room, his clear eyes making the exhausted warriors nervous.
"Scholar Leo is no mere mortal," Kaelen said in a dramatic tone. "He possesses no mana. He is a void, but he commands the shadows themselves. He tamed a beast of the Abyss to devour the harsh light of the crystals, and then... he cast my soul into the hidden dimension."
Thorne grunted, swallowing hard. "A hidden dimension? What is it called?"
Kaelen continued. "The Realm of Ethereal Monsters. The R.E.M. Sleep."
Gasps echoed through the hall. Some mercenaries made holy signs across their chests.
"In this realm," Kaelen continued, his eyes shining with awe, "I lay dead to the world for fourteen hours. I did not move. The dark consumed me, and when I returned... I was reborn. The burning in my veins is gone. The exhaustion has vanished. He cured me using forbidden... sigh-ence."
"Sigh-ence..." Thorne whispered, feeling the word like cursed-incantation. "What is this... sigh-ence?"
"I do not know," Kaelen admitted. "But it is powerful. It requires no magic, only a dark, quiet room. Now, the Lord of Dreams has commanded me to gather materials for a new ritual altar. An altar of extreme comfort."
Kaelen pointed a massive finger at the crowd. "I need the town's best carpenter! I need a blacksmith who can forge coiled iron springs! And I need a merchant who sells the softest wool in the kingdom! The Lord of Dreams demands it, to save his own back from breaking in half!"
The mercenaries stood frozen, their exhausted brains failing to process this information. A scholar who uses the abyss, who commands the "Realm of Ethereal Monsters", and requires a strange altar of coiled iron and soft wool?
It sounded terrifying, like the birth of a new Dark Cult right here in Vespera. But then, the mercenaries looked at Kaelen again.
They looked at his clear eyes. They looked at how his hands weren't shaking. They looked at how he wasn't wincing in pain from the constant mana-burn. They were all so tired. Their bones ached, and their brains felt like mush.
If this "sigh-ence" could make them feel even half as good as Kaelen looked…
A heavily armored knight in the back raised a trembling hand. "Kaelen... do you... do you think the Lord of Dreams would cast my soul into the R.E.M. Sleep too?"
"And mine?!" shouted another mercenary, dropping his sword. "My head feels like it's going to split open! I'll buy him all the wool he wants!"
"I know a carpenter!" screamed a rogue, jumping onto a table. "I'll drag him to the scholar's house right now!"
Within seconds, the guild hall devolved into a riot of desperate, exhausted warriors ready to sell their souls to a Dark God just to get rid of their eye bags.
Guildmaster Thorne watched his men scramble out the door like a pack of wild dogs, all rushing toward the scholar's rented room. Thorne rubbed his throbbing temple, his one bloodshot eye staring at the door.
"The Lord of Dreams..." Thorne muttered, his heart pounding in his chest. "If this is a demon's trick, we are all doomed. But, Goddess forgive me... I would give my other eye just to close this one for a few hours."
****
Back in his small room, Leo was blissfully unaware of the riot he had just accidentally started. He was busy using an old rag to wipe the dried drool off his wooden desk. He hummed a cheerful little tune, feeling optimistic for the first time since arriving in this crazy world.
"Alright," Leo said to himself, dusting off his hands. "Once Kaelen gets me a carpenter, I can design a proper bedframe. Then I just need to figure out how to mass-produce earplugs without modern silicone. Maybe some kind of treated beeswax?"
He walked over to the window and looked out at the street, paused in shock. A massive crowd of heavily armored, armed, and scary-looking mercenaries were sprinting down the cobblestone street. They were shoving citizens out of the way, knocking over fruit carts, and screaming.
And they were all heading directly for his front door.
"Oh, what the fuck now?" Leo said, leaning out the window.
Leading the pack was Kaelen, holding a skinny carpenter by the scruff of his neck. Behind him, dozens of warriors were waving bags of coins, and blocks of iron.
"LORD LEO!" one of the mercenaries screamed from the street below, falling to his knees in the dirt. He looked up at Leo's window with tears dripping down on his bruised, exhausted face. "PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU! CAST MY SOUL INTO THE R.E.M. DIMENSION! TAKE ALL MY GOLD!"
"SHOW US THE FORBIDDEN SIGH-ENCE!" another warrior yelled, holding up a giant sack of sheep's wool like it was a sacrifice to a god. "I WANT TO DIE IN THE DARKNESS AND BE REBORN!"
Leo stared down at the mob of crying, screaming, hyper-violent fantasy warriors begging him to put them to sleep. He slowly reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel another severe headache coming on.
"Dumbasses," Leo sighed heavily. "Every single one of them is a complete, utter dumbass."
He turned away from the window, walked over to his desk, and grabbed his clipboard. He looked at the single piece of charcoal he had left.
"I'm going to need a lot more clipboards," Leo muttered, walking toward the door to greet his new patients. "And I'm going to charge these edgelords an incredible fortune."