Logan couldn't shake the young princess's words from his mind. A slow turmoil built within him. He didn't think they were meant to be in this world, but at the same time, he couldn't deny his curiosity. What kind of magic power did he have?
He didn't seem to possess any physical abilities. During a short walk through the palace gardens, he'd picked up a small rock and tried to crush it—nothing happened. Not even a crack.
He also wasn't a mage. No matter how much he concentrated, he couldn't summon even the faintest magical phenomenon.
Within the class, four or five others had already revealed their talents. Even though Logan wasn't sitting near them in the carriage, he could hear their excited voices as they showed off their new powers.
One boy demonstrated his martial prowess, leaping between carriages and flipping through the air with natural ease, as though he'd been training his whole life.
Another classmate revealed his ability to levitate and control the wind. He couldn't keep it going for long, and his lack of control stirred up a small dust storm, but the potential was obvious.
"Heroes," the princess called out, her voice clear and magnified by a small handheld device.
"I understand your eagerness to discover your powers, but it's dangerous to experiment without proper knowledge. Tonight, we will hold a banquet where Miss Ermeya, the Oracle of the Temple of the Seven Spirits, will reveal each hero's power. Please wait until then. Some abilities may be dangerous, and we must understand them before they're used."
After turning off the device, she glanced toward Ms. Claire with a knowing smile.
"Oh, and you'll finally get answers to your questions during the banquet, Ms. Claire."
The teacher, who had been growing more frustrated by the minute, let out a deep sigh and nodded before turning back to her students.
Meanwhile, the princess stepped forward once again, clearing her throat before speaking to the class again.
"Now, each hero will be given a room to rest in, as the banquet will take place this afternoon, approximately when the second sun reaches the horizon and the first sun has set. That's about six hours from now," the princess explained. "During this time, you'll be assigned a personal butler or maid of your choosing, who will assist you with anything you require. While they may not be able to answer many questions, they will guide you and ensure your needs are met."
She paused to glance around, checking if anyone had questions. Seeing no raised hands or curious expressions, she continued.
"To conclude, I'd like to mention that during tonight's banquet—after everyone's skills have been assessed—you'll be introduced to royals and delegates from various nations who may wish to support your development. Please note that the church has formally requested all nations to allow the Kingdom of Elris to provide assistance until you decide whether you're ready..."
With that, Princess Vianell gave a graceful bow and gestured toward a nearby butler, who stepped forward to lead the group.
The students followed in silence, the tension from the morning's events still hanging over them. The butler walked at a steady pace, flanked by two knights on either side, with another pair bringing up the rear. Ms. Claire led from the front as always, while Logan—true to habit—drifted along at the back of the line.
They were guided to a separate wing of the castle, distinctly different from the main structure. It resembled a luxurious hotel more than a royal residence, clearly built for foreign dignitaries or honored guests. The atmosphere offered a sense of privacy the students were quick to appreciate.
Marble stairs stretched out before them, leading to two grand doors where an array of maids and butlers stood waiting.
As the students entered the building, they were greeted by an elegant reception area featuring two staircases that curved up toward the second floor. Beyond this central space, the structure branched into two distinct areas: a dining hall where chefs stood at the ready, and a spacious lounge furnished with numerous sofas, chairs, and tables, all gently warmed by the heat of a large chimney.
In the lounge, a few servants moved about quietly, including two young musicians standing near a piano and a lute. As with every part of the castle, artwork adorned the walls—paintings, statues, and murals capturing moments of history and beauty.
"Welcome. My name is Sir Alric, and I will serve as the head butler responsible for your care," the man said with a formal bow. "This will be your residence, heroes—one of the finest wings of the castle, reserved for royals and influential guests visiting our kingdom. Here, you will enjoy the best meals and the finest music we can provide. The third floor is open to you as well, offering space for reading, writing, or practicing any form of art. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask."
Sir Alric, with a lean build and iron-gray hair tied into a neat ponytail, was dressed in a finely tailored red suit embroidered with silver. His sharply shaved face and icy blue eyes lent him an air of strict professionalism; his focused gaze was sharp enough to cut through any hint of disorder.
With a snap of his fingers, every maid and butler in the room stepped forward, some of whom were familiar to a few of the students. Once they had gathered, each student was handed a key and paired with a personal attendant who would escort them to their room.
Logan was matched with the same gentle-looking maid from earlier. She looked slightly disheartened but silently led him down a long corridor, past several doors, until they reached the boys' quarters at the far end.
"Master, I did not introduce myself properly this morning. I am Ruri," she said softly, pausing outside his room. "Would you prefer that I wait out here? Or is there something you would like me to do while you rest? Also... if you'd rather change attendants, I understand. Just let me know—if I'm not worthy enough, I'll step aside…"
Logan couldn't quite understand why she would wait for him or follow his orders. In a world where slavery existed, he guessed she might be one, but even so, he wasn't comfortable having someone he didn't know hovering around him. He had lived as a loner for so long.
As he struggled to find the right words, he noticed her face beginning to flush. Her expression darkened slightly, and Logan realized she was growing upset.
"Wait! Uhm—don't take this the wrong way," he blurted out. "It's not that I'm refusing your service. I just… don't like interacting with people much. I'm not like the others. But I do think I'll need help, so… can you assist me when I ask, please?"
He looked around nervously, just in time to hear a whistle from a guy nearby. Only then did he realize he was making a scene. Flustered, he gently pulled the maid inside and quickly shut the door behind them.
"Look… I'm not the type who talks a lot," he said, pacing awkwardly. "And I really value peace and quiet. Please don't take it personally."
Trying to shake off his embarrassment, Logan took a moment to glance around the room. It was more spacious than he expected—furnished with a decently sized bed, a two-seat sofa, a closet, an empty bookshelf, and another door leading deeper in.
"It's fine, Master," the maid said softly. "I think I understand now. If I may, let me introduce myself properly again. My name is Ruri. I'll be honest with you, this is my first job, but I am happy to assist you whenever needed. As servants to the heroes, we also have our own rooms nearby, so I will never be in your way."
The young girl, now calmer, brushed away a tear and tucked a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear. Her warm hazel eyes shone with quiet sincerity.
It wasn't until she smiled that Logan truly noticed her face. She had a heart-shaped face framed by soft waves of light brown hair that complemented her fair complexion. Her hazel eyes held a gentle warmth, and her thin brows, slightly furrowed in focus, gave her a thoughtful expression. High cheekbones added a touch of elegance, while her small upturned nose and naturally rosy lips gave her a soft, approachable appearance.
"Ah, yes… well, it's nice to meet you. My name is Logan. I guess I'll have to rely on your help," he said, scratching the back of his neck.
An awkward silence followed as they stood there, neither quite sure what to say next. Eventually, Ruri gave a small nod and stepped toward the second door inside the room.
"Well then, Master, this is my room. I'll be here if you need anything. Everything has been prepared in advance, so just knock if something comes up."
"Ah, okay… sure?"
Left alone, Logan sat on the bed, replaying the earlier exchange in his head. Had he handled it well? Was he too blunt?
His thoughts drifted as he stared at the ceiling as he lay on the only bed in the room, eventually lulled to sleep by the soft melody of a piano echoing faintly from downstairs, accompanied by the gentle hum of a woman's voice. Without meaning to, he slipped into a nap.
A few hours later, Ruri's voice brought him back.
"Ahem… Master, you should get ready for the banquet. There's a bathing area for both men and women downstairs. You'll find the entrance under the male staircase—it should be easy to spot. I've also placed your outfit by the door in case you wish to change after your bath."
She bowed gracefully before returning to her room, leaving Logan still halfway between dream and wakefulness. For a brief second, he almost felt like he was back home—his mom calling him to get up for school.
Yawning, Logan rose and took the ornate outfit hanging near the door, along with a towel. As he trudged downstairs, he grumbled under his breath. The formal clothes were exactly the kind of thing he would've avoided if given the choice.
The bath helped. He was grateful to find a proper tub with warm water, and though he would've stayed longer, the lost time weighed on him. After drying off and changing, he returned to the main hall, rubbing a towel through his damp hair.
That's when he bumped into someone else moving quickly through the corridor.
"Ouch! Hey, that hurt, you know!"
He froze. That voice—he recognized it immediately.
Looking down, Logan saw Lisa sprawled on the floor, blinking up at him in confusion.
"Sorry about that…" he muttered, already extending a hand to help her up before he realized it.
"Oh, it's you, Logan? Uhm… watch your step next time, okay?" she said, grabbing his hand and pulling herself to her feet. But then she paused, frowning at her fingers.
"Logan… are you bleeding?"
Both teens glanced down at their hands. Logan frowned—his blood was acting strangely again. This time, it seemed to stretch toward Lisa's fingers, as if trying to connect… it then slowly slipped into Lisa's finger before evaporating.
⟦⚜ Side Story – Owen the Sharpshooter (Part I) ⚜⟧
Owen was just a normal kid who went to school only because his parents made him.
Beyond that, he lived in his own world, coasting through life on autopilot.
The only thing that gave him purpose was The Ancient Scrolls. Even if it was an old game, it had everything he ever wanted.
That was until one fateful day when he was summoned to another world.
At first, he struggled to comprehend what was happening—being dragged into a dungeon while half-asleep in class wasn't exactly normal. But soon he noticed magic, princesses, maids, castles, and towers.
It was the fantasy world he had always dreamed of.
The only issue was the intro. It was unbelievably long.
Something that would normally be skipped with a few clicks took hours.
All he wanted was to start leveling up, which he was sure was possible. Especially after one of his skills was activated by accident.
While the king ordered Brian to step forward and fight, Owen was too busy scanning the room.
Whatever he focused on was marked with a crosshair, like in a game.
He tried to ignore it as the day dragged on, but the itch to grab a bow and start shooting was getting harder to resist.
As soon as the parade ended, he went straight to Butler Alric and demanded a bow.
Then, without missing a beat, he asked the maid assigned to him for typical medieval archer attire.
He briefly considered keeping her as a follower, but she looked too plain—just a normal maid who'd probably slow him down in a fight. So he told her to stay behind and do whatever she wanted.
Owen made his way to the castle gates.
He felt as if his stamina was endless, picturing the green bar on his imaginary HUD as something out of a max-stamina build, with more than 1000 points.
It just felt that way after coming here; he felt he got stronger the moment he arrived.
Once he reached the gate, he looked around, grinning when he spotted a few guards chatting with each other.
He felt a flutter of nervous excitement.
Suddenly, he heard something interesting with his new hunting senses.
Owen realized he could now hear someone's heartbeat if he focused hard enough.
"Wish I could run like that boy. Too bad I took an arrow to the knee," one of the guards muttered.
Owen nearly jumped for joy.
He was too thrilled to care and completely forgot to speak to the guards, who had only stopped him for a routine check.
Without another thought, he rushed outside, where rabbits and deer pranced about.
He knew it was time to level up, and there was no better way to start than with low-level mobs.
In the distance, he spotted several deer.
They were tempting targets—but he hesitated.
They'd be hard to bring down. He'd never killed anything before.
He needed something smaller. Something easier.
Then he saw them.
Two rabbits, locked in a fight, battering each other with their horns.
"There won't be a better opportunity than this. They're too distracted to notice me..."
Owen muttered as he readied his bow.
It felt natural—almost like he'd done it a million times.
Whether it was muscle memory from VR gaming or an innate skill gifted to him in this world, he didn't know.
And he didn't care either.
All that mattered now was getting his first level up.
Without hesitation, he let the arrow fly.
He expected to miss—after all, he'd never shot anything in real life.
But his fear was unfounded.
The arrow split mid-flight—no, not split. It was more like a phantom duplicate that followed it.
Both rabbits dropped instantly.
Then came the sound.
A soft chime, like a bell ringing inside his mind.
He had leveled up.
"If only there was a way to check my skills… darn it!" Owen shouted, stomping the ground in frustration.
He approached the fallen creatures, hesitating.
They were clean kills, but he still didn't want to touch them.
"Auto-storage function? Come on..." he muttered, trying various gestures and commands.
After several failed attempts, he gave up.
Still, he couldn't just leave them there. His conscience wouldn't let him.
So, reluctantly, he grabbed both rabbits by the ears and began the walk back to the castle.
Once there, he'd ask the guards what he was supposed to do with them.
He figured there might be a merchant nearby who would take the rabbits and give him some gold.
"That's a very nice kill, hero. I could never have done that at your age… but if you're looking to sell them, you should take them into town," a guard said while inspecting the kills.
"I guess I should, huh... How long do you think it'll take?" Owen asked.
"Just call for a carriage. Ah—here comes one now. They should've given you an insignia at the castle, right? Show that around, and make sure you stay near the high district. In other words, avoid the slums."
The guard then made a few hand signals to flag down a passing carriage, which seemed to be this world's version of a taxi.
Owen's eyes lit up. It was an open-air carriage, just like the ones in Ancient Scrolls. He quickly climbed in and showed his insignia.
The driver, an old man, gave a nod and took him to a store the guard had suggested.
"Make sure you stay away from the slums, hero. If you need to return to the castle, find a carriage near the government district—it's by the large clock tower. Can't miss it," the driver said, pointing toward an easy-to-spot landmark.
Owen nodded and watched as the carriage rolled away.
As for the town itself, it looked almost identical to Seclusion—the capital city in Ancient Scrolls V.
People bustled back and forth through crowded streets.
To Owen, they seemed like NPCs—just waiting to hand out quests if he spoke to them.
But for now, his goal was simple: sell the weird rabbits and find the adventurers' guild.
He entered the store the guard had recommended and was immediately hit with the strong scent of raw meat.
Animals and freshly butchered cuts lined the display counters.
It smelled... unpleasant.
But this was where he'd been told he'd get the best price.
He eyed the man he assumed was the shopkeeper—a burly figure in a bloodied apron—and immediately went into vendor mode.
"Hey there, I want to sell these two."
Owen raised his hand and displayed the rabbits for the butcher to see.
"Boy, I know those aren't yours… Who's the big shot that took them down so cleanly?" the man said, squinting at the kills. "Only problem is, they weren't bled properly. I'll have to deduct the cost of using tools to clean the meat. I'll give you ten silver for both. They're not too big, but the pelts look good."
He lifted each rabbit, inspecting them with practiced hands.
Owen had no idea what price he should expect, so he just nodded and took the silver coins without protest.
After thanking the man, he quickly exited the shop and began searching for the adventurers' guild.
If he was going to venture out into this world, the first thing he needed was a knowledgeable follower.
Thankfully, the townsfolk were friendly when he asked for directions.
It was likely a perk of being in the high-class district, and also thanks to his elegant attire, which a few people even complimented.
Within fifteen minutes, he found it: a massive three-story building wide enough to be mistaken for a bank, with three large doors inviting people in.
Owen admired the structure.
It looked like a blend between a grand cottage and a Gothic estate.
The roof beams were logs reinforced by stone arches.
The smell, however, was something else—sweat, beer, and the unmistakable stench of freshly slain monsters being brought in for completed requests.
He made his way to the guild notice wall, where a large map was displayed.
Dozens of colorful markers dotted the surface, along with animated pictures of various monsters.
The images moved, capturing the targets they represented or the areas that needed exploring.
It was exactly as Owen had imagined.
He took a moment to observe the crowd and get a feel for the atmosphere.
It was less rowdy than expected. Groups sat at tables, eating and drinking, while others lined up to turn in their kills or accept new quests.
For now, Owen ignored all that and focused on finding someone strong—someone who could become his follower.
He imagined someone like Lidia, his favorite companion from the game—strong, reliable, and built like a proper tank to complement his stealth archer build.
Soon, he spotted a woman leaning against the wall—well-endowed, confident in posture, and clearly not engaged with anyone at the moment.
She looked free enough to possibly accept his request for a follower.