This world... it's a fragment of my own creation. A world I once built word by word. A story I never finished.
My webnovel — A Tale of a Hero — my most acclaimed work to date, was supposed to be fiction. A story about a frail boy who accidentally stumbled into a portal that led to another realm. There, he fought, bled, and clawed his way through over two centuries of hardship, becoming a legend. Eventually, he returned to his original world — the one I now found myself in.
In the novel, the protagonist had enrolled in an elite academy known as The Chain, seeking power, truth, and revenge. That very same academy... where a boy named Arsin, this body's name, somehow managed to enroll.
Looking around at the worn wooden walls and the threadbare cloth curtains that barely qualified as a door, it was obvious — Arsin was a commoner. Dirt floor. Empty shelves. A rusted pot by the corner. He didn't come from privilege, nor did he have connections.
"But how the hell did this body get into the Chain!?"
That wasn't supposed to happen. Arsin was no one. He wasn't even mentioned in the original manuscript. Not even as a side character.
This could only mean one thing: I needed to know the timeline. Right now.
"So... System, can you show me the da—"
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Date: 9 / 5 / 2071
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The translucent blue window appeared mid-sentence, floating in front of me with a soft mechanical chime.
"Whoaa... That's actually kinda awesome," I muttered, the corner of my lips twitching up.
So, it's September 5th. 2071.
Perfect. Exactly where I needed to be.
If I recall correctly, the entrance ceremony of Chain Academy takes place on September 13th. That means I have four days — four precious days to prepare, observe, and figure out what the hell is going on here.
"Hey, System... can you also tell me my current location?"
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Location: Silverbrook Village
West District, Royal Dominion
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My eyes narrowed. Silverbrook. That name wasn't easy to forget.
It was a village tucked away on the western outskirts of the Royal Capital — the very heart of the kingdom where the Chain Academy resides.
Silverbrook, often dismissed by nobles as a festering dump, had a darker role in the underbelly of the kingdom. It was where criminals fled, where the impoverished were exiled, and where the worst of society were forced to survive.
But the nobles… they didn't burn it down.
Why? Because Silverbrook served a purpose.
Illegal experiments, cursed item crafting, unlicensed spell testing — all those unsanctioned magical acts the Royal Family couldn't allow in public were quietly tolerated here. It was the perfect shadow laboratory.
And more importantly, nearby lay the Forest of Averia.
A land veiled in mist, filled with towering ancient trees — remnants of an era when mana was raw and untamed. The bark of these trees contained ancient mana fragments, materials capable of crafting Primordial Artifacts. Officially, it was forbidden to harm the trees. Unofficially, powerful families paid well to break those rules — and they always had someone to blame.
Us.
Commoners.
The scapegoats of the kingdom.
Just another reason Silverbrook was allowed to rot quietly in a corner of the realm.
But then... something hit me.
My heart skipped a beat.
"Wait... 5th September, 2071..."
A crucial event takes place here. Today.
—Bang!
I pushed the hut door open so hard it slammed into the wall. My legs moved before my thoughts could catch up. I sprinted barefoot into the dirt road outside.
"I need to get there. I have to get there!"
But...
"...Where is it!?"
I skidded to a stop in the middle of the village path, panting heavily.
Wooden homes with sagging roofs flanked me on either side. The cobbled path ended abruptly ahead. The wind was dry, carrying the scent of old smoke and damp earth.
I looked around — east, south, west — there!
To the northwest, just past the last cluster of crumbling houses, I spotted something through the haze.
A vast thicket of trees, towering and dark, like they had stood since the beginning of time. Not the kind you see in tamed forests. No, these were wild. Their canopies blocked out the sun, and even from this distance, I could feel the oppressive weight of mana seeping from them.
The Forest of Averia.
Its very presence felt... ancient.
No paved roads led to it. Just a worn dirt path, partially overgrown and long abandoned.
"Found you."
I took a deep breath, then sprinted again, faster than before.
My memory was clear — I will something, at this exact forest.
And I needed to be there before they did.
Before the past I wrote became the future I couldn't control.
After running through twisted paths and broken trails, my legs finally gave out beneath a thick veil of vines and brambles.
Panting, I pushed the last bush aside—and there it was.
A massive crater, stretching wider than I remembered writing, opened up before me like a wound carved into the earth. Scorched soil and twisted roots marked its edges, as if the land itself had recoiled in pain.
I took a shaky step forward, then another, until the full sight lay before me.
In the heart of the crater stood a jagged monolith—no, not just a rock. It pulsed faintly, as if breathing. Glowing lines of arcane script ran along its surface, barely visible but unmistakably ancient.
And then it hit me.
A sensation like pressure behind my eyes and fire in my chest.
"It must be Condensed mana," I murmured, eyes wide. "But this density… it's insane."
The sheer weight of it made the air shimmer. It wasn't just raw mana. It was wild, ancient, and unrefined—like a slumbering beast waiting to awaken.
I stepped into the crater, each footfall heavier than the last. The resistance wasn't physical. It was as if the mana itself pushed against my presence, testing me, warning me.
Still, I pressed on.
Finally, I stood just a few paces from it—the monolith. The thing I had written years ago as a plot device… but never fully explored.
"Here it is," I whispered, more to myself than anything else.
The Forgotten Core.
A relic born from the death of a god. And now… lying before me, just as I had imagined it—but far more terrifying in reality.