Somewhere in the modern world called Earth, the day unfolded like any other—cars rolling across streets in smooth succession, people chatting on sidewalks, giving their two cents about life, plans, dreams, and regrets. Teenagers coasted by on skateboards, laughter bubbling out as they discussed tricks they wanted to land and battles they'd seen in anime. A thousand noises meshed into a constant, breathing city hum.
"Bro, I swear I'm gonna land that frontside 360 today," one skater shouted as he zoomed by.
"You better! Last time you bailed so hard you scared that grandma at the noodle shop," another laughed.
"We're heading to the plaza. Heard some pros are filming there. Maybe we'll get spotted."
"Dream on. You barely ollied last week."
Their boards clacked against pavement, wheels humming like bees in flight. In the background, a couple argued about groceries.
"I told you to get soy milk, not almond!"
"Well, I told you to text me if it was that serious."
"You never check your phone!"
Farther down, two office workers talked philosophy over coffee.
"I think happiness is just comfort plus time."
"Nah, it's purpose. Without purpose, you're just drifting."
Among the river of life, one sound cut through it all.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Victor Drake walked alone, the tip of his cane striking the pavement with practiced rhythm. Raven-black hair fell just above his sharp jawline, his face obscured behind sleek sunglasses. At 23, he was already a legend in kendo circles—a prodigy with the sword. He once stood on stages where lights roared like thunder and blades clashed like gods at war. But all of that was before the accident.
His thoughts ran like a hidden stream beneath his calm exterior.
"Same old city. Same rhythm. Tires, horns, laughter, gossip, dreams. It's louder when you're blind. Or maybe I just listen better now."
He adjusted his cane.
"Gotta keep moving. Morning walk helps me sharpen the senses. I miss the ring, though. The tension. The quiet before a strike. The silence when a blow lands."
A wave of memory slammed into him.
FLASHBACK: National Kendo Tournament Finals
The arena shook with cheers. Victor stood poised in his stance, sweat dripping down his temple. His opponent, Takao Ishimura, was a powerhouse—raw, relentless.
"Final round! Fighters, ready!" the announcer boomed.
Victor's grip on the shinai tightened. Eyes sharp. Breathing calm.
Takao charged first—sloppy, fast. Victor stepped aside, countered. A perfect strike: Men!
Point to Victor.
Second round. Takao faked low. Victor read it. Another strike: Kote!
Point to Victor.
Third round. Takao roared like a beast. Victor let instinct guide him. One last blow:
Dō!
Victory.
The stadium exploded in applause. Victor bowed respectfully.
Takao's expression twisted in rage.
"You smug little—!"
He rushed forward, gripping his shinai like a club.
Victor turned too late.
CRACK.
Pain burst behind his eyes.
Another swing.
CRACK.
The world exploded into white... then nothing.
Voices blurred. Hands grabbed Takao. Screams. Blood. Chaos.
Victor crumpled to his knees, his last vision the ceiling lights—bright, cold, uncaring.
Back in the present, Victor walked slower.
"Can't believe that was three years ago. Three seconds to lose the world I knew. Still hear the crowd sometimes. Still smell the mats."
He paused at a corner, waiting for the crosswalk chirp.
"No point hating Takao. He let his pride blind him. Irony's a funny thing. Now I train in darkness and still see clearer than most."
His stomach growled.
"Yakitori sounds good. Or soba. Haven't decided. Probably both."
Laughter echoed ahead—teenagers.
Victor tilted his head.
Three distinct voices.
The first was cocky and sharp. Riku Tachibana.
"Hah! No one's ready for me at the kendo tournament. Not after the new form I've been working on. I'll be unstoppable." His tone dripped with pride. Sharp jet-black hair with navy-blue streaks bounced with every step. He looked like the protagonist of his own shounen.
Beside him, Aika Himura rolled her eyes and adjusted her black cardigan.
"You mean the move you made up after watching five hours of anime?" she muttered, brushing lilac strands from her face. "I just want to get home and finish that essay. And maybe read a few chapters... or five."
DJ Yamada trailed behind, his oversized hoodie almost swallowing his frame. Earphones dangled loose, letting the city's noise mix with whatever fantasy soundtrack he had queued up.
"Man... I just wanna hit Level 100 in ChronoMancer Quest tonight. Tournaments are cool, but respawning is better." He chuckled sleepily.
Victor smiled faintly. He remembered that age.
Then, it happened.
A faint hum. A glow. The air shimmered.
Beneath Victor's feet—and beneath the teens'—a glowing summoning circle burst to life. Ancient symbols rotated in gold and blue. The street blurred, the world tilted.
"What the hell?!" Riku shouted.
"This is literally an isekai trope!" DJ screamed.
"I was supposed to finish my homework first!" Aika cried.
Victor's hand tightened on his cane.
"No... not now—!"
Then, silence.
And then... wind.
When Victor opened his mouth, he tasted different air. When he stepped forward, the ground felt softer. Grass? Dirt?
"...What happened? Where—"
Riku looked around, spinning. "Where the hell are we?!"
DJ's mouth hung open. "We just got isekai'd. I knew this day would come. I KNEW IT."
Aika steadied herself, blinking at the vast sky above. "This is... not Earth."
A voice echoed from behind them.
"Welcome, summoned heroes."
They all turned.
Riku stepped forward. "Who are you?!"
The four of them turned as one—Victor, Riku, Aika, and DJ—hearing footsteps, metal armor clanking, and whispers weaving through a grand marble chamber. They stood in the center of an opulent hall with high-arched ceilings and radiant stained glass filtering sunlight onto polished floors. Dozens of figures stood before them: knights clad in gleaming armor, nobles in flowing robes and tailored finery, and mages draped in enchanted fabrics that shimmered with unspoken spells.
At the end of the hall, a staircase led upward to a majestic throne. Seated atop it was a woman who looked no older than twenty-seven, yet carried herself with the ancient grace of monarchs past. Her silver-gold hair, braided with gemstone threads, cascaded over her shoulders like moonlight on water. Piercing emerald eyes locked onto the newcomers. An elegant silk gown entwined with arcane runes and emblems of royalty wrapped her form, and a crown shaped like blooming antlers rested upon her brow.
She stood slowly, the air thick with reverence.
With a soft, enigmatic smile, she spoke. "Forgive the abruptness. Let me introduce myself. I am Queen Elenora Lys Caelvarin, Ruler of the Kingdom of Elarith—and the one who ordered the Hero Summoning."
The three high school students stared, dumbstruck.
"No way," Riku whispered. "We just got summoned by a queen?!"
Aika blinked, her voice flat. "Okay. That explains the throne. And the antler crown."
DJ trembled. "Does this mean... we're the chosen ones? Like, legit? For real? This is nuts."
Victor stood a few feet behind them, cane lightly tapping the stone floor. His thoughts ran like water through a cracked dam.
"A queen. Another world. So it wasn't just a dream. I'm... blind in a new world. And someone powerful brought us here on purpose. But why me? I can't see... am I even supposed to be here?"
Riku raised his voice. "Wait—so why are we here? Why forcefully summon us across dimensions?!"
Queen Elenora's smile faltered, replaced with a mask of duty.
"Because our kingdom—and perhaps the entire world—is in grave danger. The Demon Lord, long sealed away, stirs once more. His awakening is imminent. We had no choice."
"NO CHOICE?!" DJ squeaked, his eyes wide. "We're supposed to fight a Demon Lord?! Like, the final boss kind?! This isn't anime—this is real life!"
Aika rubbed her temples. "I still haven't finished my report on 19th-century politics. And now I have to save a fantasy world?"
Victor took a deep breath, standing quietly as the three panicked.
"Demon Lord. Chosen heroes. It's all so familiar—and yet this isn't a story. This is real. And I'm still blind. What can I do here... what should I do here?"
Queen Elenora's tone softened, but her eyes sharpened.
"There is an ancient prophecy passed down through generations. It speaks of three summoned heroes—outsiders from beyond the stars—who will rise to challenge the returning Demon Lord and bring balance to this world."
Riku crossed his arms. "So... we're the prophecy? Just like that?"
"According to the celestial alignment and arcane records," she replied, "yes. The signs are clear."
"Great," Aika muttered. "A prophecy that dumps us into a warzone. Typical fantasy world mechanics."
DJ raised his hand timidly. "Um, Your Majesty? I've got a question."
The queen tilted her head. "Speak, Hero Daichi."
DJ turned and pointed over his shoulder.
"You said the prophecy mentions three summoned heroes. So... why is he here?"
Victor froze.
He couldn't see the gesture, but he felt the air shift. Dozens of eyes now turned toward him.
"Is he one of us too?"
The queen's gaze fell upon Victor like a winter breeze. Her emerald eyes narrowed with confusion and... curiosity.
"Grand Sage Belthandor," she called.
A short, stocky figure beside her stepped forward. His thick white beard sparkled with embedded crystal rings. A robe of stitched scrolls, feathers, and relics swayed as he moved, his staff—carved from petrified world tree—clicking softly with each step. A thick monocle hovered over one eye.
He frowned deeply, muttering, "Cosmic backlash... anomaly? Glitch in the glyph sequence? Bah!"
Elenora looked to him. "What is the meaning of this?"
The Grand Sage sighed. "There was... a ripple. The summoning circle may have glitched. I argued to stop the casting when it happened. You overruled me."
The queen's brows furrowed. She looked at Victor with sudden seriousness. "You're... blind. Who are you?"
Victor stood still, shoulders tight. He bowed his head.
"My name is Victor Drake. And yes... I am blind. If I'm an accident, then... can I go back home?"
Elenora's face darkened with a mix of guilt and sorrow.
"...We cannot return you. The summoning is a one-way ritual. There is no known path back."
Victor's heart sank.
"No way back. No more city walks. No familiar streets. No familiar voices. Just me, alone again... in a world I can't even see. Nothing left to call mine."
He lowered his cane and whispered to himself, barely audible: "I'm stuck..."
Victor sat quietly near the back of the grand throne room, the stone cold beneath him, his cane resting on his knees. Though the Queen had spoken gently, her words echoed like iron inside him.
"There's no going back."
He lowered his head slightly.
"So... I'm stuck here. A blind stranger in a kingdom of magic, war, and prophecy. What am I supposed to do now? What can I do?"
Just then, a voice broke the silence.
"Excuse me!"
Everyone turned. It was Riku, stepping forward with a firm gaze and a raised hand.
Queen Elenora inclined her head. "Yes, Hero Riku?"
Riku looked serious—far more than usual. "How are we supposed to defeat a Demon Lord? We don't have powers. We don't have skills. We're just high school kids."
Aika and Daichi nodded in agreement.
"He's right," Aika added, arms folded. "We're not trained. We barely passed gym class."
"I can't even do a push-up without getting winded," Daichi admitted.
Queen Elenora's face remained composed. "A fair question. Allow me to have my Grand Sage explain."
She turned to her right, where the stout, scroll-clad figure stood patiently.
"Grand Sage Belthandor."
He stepped forward, staff clinking against the marble floor. "Ah. Yes, yes. Greetings, summoned heroes. I am Grand Sage Belthandor, Arcane Scholar of the Ninth Circle."
The three students reacted instantly.
"A real wizard," Riku whispered in awe.
"Okay, this is officially the coolest thing that's ever happened," Aika muttered, eyes wide.
Daichi chuckled nervously. "He looks like someone who'd teach you magic, then forget your name halfway through."
Victor, sitting quietly behind them, tilted his head slightly.
"So this is the sage the queen mentioned... Wonder what he has to say. He doesn't sound like a fool."
Queen Elenora watched the exchange, her voice soft. "Grand Sage Belthandor has served the royal family longer than I've been alive. He is one of the last true masters of the arcane. I trust him with my life, and with the future of this kingdom."
The sage puffed out his beard slightly. "Your Majesty flatters me—though I am simply a tired man with too much knowledge and too little sleep."
He turned back to the teens.
"Now, to your concern. This world operates on a complex but accessible system of magical order—runes, life essence, divine designations. But, for simplicity's sake... magic here is bound to your very soul. Each of you, as summoned heroes, were granted latent gifts by the summoning circle. You've been... encoded, so to speak."
The three students looked at each other.
"Wait—like magic systems? Stats?" Riku asked.
"Yes, yes. You can check yours. Simply say, 'Open Status.'"
Aika raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Seriously? That's all it takes?"
"Go ahead," Belthandor said with a smirk.
The three teens took a deep breath.
"Open Status!" they said together.
DING!
Three glowing blue screens appeared before them.
Riku's eyes widened. "Whoa... no way. It says... Class Title: Sword Hero."
"Fitting," Aika muttered. "You act like a shounen protagonist anyway. Mine says... Mage Hero. Oooh. I could get used to this."
Daichi blinked slowly. "Huh. Shield Hero? That sounds like defense support. I'm cool with that."
The three exchanged glances and grins.
"We actually got classes," Riku said. "This is like an RPG!"
"And we didn't even have to grind levels," Aika added.
"I hope I get healing skills. That'd be super useful," Daichi said.
Victor sat still, silent.
"A system... magic... classes. They're all reacting to something inside them. I wonder... could it work for me too?"
He tightened his grip on his cane, inhaled, and said softly:
"Open Status."
For a heartbeat, nothing.
Then—
DING.
A soft chime echoed inside his mind. A strange sensation washed over him—like a current of warm air brushing past his thoughts. Then a screen appeared—not visible to the eye, but within his mind.
Victor blinked in confusion.
"I... can see it? In my head?"
He focused.
"This isn't like the others'. It feels... different. Not just words and numbers. There's something deeper here... something hidden."
The screen in his mind began to reveal its contents.
Victor stood silently as the glowing blue screen bloomed fully in his mind. No one else could see it—not the queen, not the other summoned heroes—yet to Victor, it was vividly real. The details unfolded with each breath.
Status Screen
Name: Victor Drake
Age: 23
Race: Human
Level: 1
Class: Blind Swordsman
Titles:
One Who Walks Without Light
Accidental Hero
Summoned One (Illegitimate)
Sightless Sword Prodigy
Health Points (HP): 190 / 190
Magic Points (MP): 160 / 160
Strength: 22
Agility: 30
Endurance: 18
Mana: 160
Luck: 30
Charm: 28
Normal Skills:
Appraisal – Allows the user to identify and analyze the properties, stats, and history of items, creatures, and people.
Swordsmanship – Beginner – Basic mastery of sword combat, enabling efficient strikes, guards, and footwork.
Keen Hearing – Enhances auditory perception, allowing Victor to detect sounds others cannot.
Sixth Sense – Combat Awareness – Grants instinctive awareness of danger in battle, even from unseen or behind-the-back threats.
Mana Breathing – Enables the user to absorb and circulate ambient mana through controlled breathing, slightly regenerating MP over time.
Pain Resistance – Reduces flinch response, physical knockback, and pain sensitivity in combat, maintaining clarity under duress.
Quick Step – A burst movement skill that increases agility temporarily to dodge or reposition quickly.
Ability Skills:
Vibration Deflect – Reflect a projectile using timed echo-blade spin.
Echo Blade Step – Dash toward a target using sound vibration trail.
Blind Focus – Heightens all non-visual senses during combat.
Instinctual Parry – Automatically deflects attacks sensed via sound.
Echo Tap – Victor taps the tip of his sword against the ground, emitting a controlled vibration pulse through the floor and air. This distorts local soundwaves and interferes with enemy senses — particularly hearing, balance, and spatial awareness.
Magic Sword Techniques:
Sound Blade – Rip – Unleashes a vibration slash that can cut through armor.
Silent Slash – A soundless strike that bypasses auditory detection.
Reverberation Guard – Forms a vibrating mana shield in front of Victor.
Tremor Fang – Stabs the ground to send out a radial vibration burst.
Thunderhowl Slash – Wide AOE slash with thunder soundburst.
Unique Skills:
Sword Soul: Blind Edge – Allows the user to "see" intent, motion, and presence through their sword. Improves all sword-based reflexes drastically.
World Echo – Passive. The world itself echoes to Victor's spirit. Grants awareness of surrounding terrain, enemies, and hidden threats via vibration and mana pressure.
Blade of the Fifth Sense – Victor's sword stores 5 consecutive sensed attacks, then unleashes them all at once.
Last Cut – "One Echo, One Kill" – Victor disappears in silence and performs a single, perfect strike based on the enemy's false sense of safety.
Weapons:
Wakizashi of Echo Iron
Starter Magic Blade
Slightly resonates with mana and amplifies sound-based sword skills
Items:
[None listed]
Victor exhaled slowly, the weight of the screen settling in his mind.
"Blind Swordsman... That's really my class."
He let the words rest on his tongue. They didn't feel like a curse. Not anymore.
"Titles like 'Accidental Hero' and 'Sightless Sword Prodigy'... I didn't choose this. But maybe... just maybe, it chose me."
He smiled.
"These skills... they're built for someone like me. Not despite my blindness. Because of it."
He gripped his cane—no, his sword now—with renewed confidence.
"This is my chance. A new life. A new blade. I may walk without light... but that doesn't mean I walk without purpose."
His smile grew wider.
"I am the Blind Swordsman. And this is my beginning."
Victor stood tall, heart still racing, as the lingering echo of the words left his lips: "My class is Blind Swordsman."
The room fell silent.
Queen Elenora blinked and glanced at Grand Sage Belthandor. Their eyes met.
"Blind Swordsman?" she echoed softly.
The sage stroked his beard, his brow furrowed. "I've studied thousands of class types across planes and ages... but this one? No record. Not even a myth."
The nobles began murmuring among themselves.
"How can a blind man fight?"
"A swordsman with no sight—impossible."
"Maybe it's ceremonial? Symbolic?"
The royal mages whispered.
"Could it be an ancient subclass?"
"Or a cursed blessing?"
Meanwhile, the three high school kids were equally baffled.
"Blind Swordsman?" Riku muttered. "That's not in any game I've ever played. Sounds crazy."
Aika tilted her head. "Or... incredibly badass."
"He's blind... and still got summoned?" Daichi said. "Man... that's something."
Victor felt the air swirl with confusion, judgment, and awe. He didn't mind. He was too busy focusing on something else—something that tugged at his mind.
"World Echo... that skill. What did it say again?"
He recalled the words he'd read:
World Echo – Passive. The world itself echoes to Victor's spirit. Grants awareness of surrounding terrain, enemies, and hidden threats via vibration and mana pressure.
His heart began to pound.
"Is that... what I think it is?"
He closed his eyes.
"World Echo."
Silence fell again. Then—
His breath caught.
In the void of his mind, the darkness began to shift.
He saw... pulses. Echoes. Shapes. Like a sonar of light and mana ripples. The queen, glowing softly with radiant power. Belthandor, a sphere of shifting energy and muttering mana. The nobles like clustered candle flames. His fellow summoned heroes, flickering with new, wild potential.
He saw them.
No—he felt them.
The hall's tall ceilings, its columns, the warmth of the torches, the reverberation of breath, footstep, silence. It all painted the world around him in ways sight never had.
Victor dropped his cane.
Tears streamed silently down his face.
"For so long I thought my life was over. That my story ended the day I went blind. But this... this is something new. This is hope."
Queen Elenora's voice was laced with concern. "Victor? Are you all right?"
"Hey," Riku said, stepping forward. "Why are you crying, man?"
"You okay?" Aika asked gently.
Daichi looked concerned. "Did something hurt you?"
Victor smiled, wiping his tears. "I lost my sight in a tournament. I was a five-time national kendo champion... until my final opponent broke the rules. Smashed his sword across my face. Took everything from me."
Riku gasped. "Wait. No way... you're Victor Drake?! I watched that tournament! You won the finals! Then you disappeared!"
Victor chuckled softly. "I did win. But after that, I couldn't see. So I gave it all up. Everything I loved."
He lifted his hand toward the air.
"That ends now."
He closed his fingers into a fist.
"Come to me, Wakizashi of Echo Iron!"
A small light materialized in front of him. It shimmered, condensed, and became steel. The sword landed softly in his palm.
Gasps filled the hall.
"He... summoned a sword?"
"It formed from thin air!"
"By the gods..."
The three teens were wide-eyed.
"He just... manifested a weapon," Riku said.
"No chant. No incantation," Aika added.
"That's cool as hell," Daichi said under his breath.
Queen Elenora's lips parted in disbelief. "Incredible."
Grand Sage Belthandor adjusted his monocle. "A classless summoning? I've seen it only once... and never this refined."
Victor took a deep breath. He lowered his stance.
And then he moved.
A flurry of slashes, steps, twirls. Footwork like water. Blade work like wind.
For a man who hadn't fought in years, his body remembered. His soul remembered.
Even without sight, he danced.
The queen watched in awe. "How is this possible?"
The Grand Sage whispered, "The sword has become his eyes."
Riku's jaw dropped. "That's... insane."
"He's moving like a master," Aika said.
"He's beautiful," Daichi added with wonder.
The nobles and mages were stunned.
"He's blind. And still... he fights better than any knight I've seen."
Victor landed the final step, blade still in hand, breathing steady. He smiled.
"I haven't moved like that in years... and yet, it's still in me."
The sword vanished from his hand in a flicker of light.
Queen Elenora took a moment, then turned to the other three.
"Summoned Heroes. It's time for you to begin your own training. To master your gifts. The demon lord is awakening—and you must be ready."
Riku clenched his fists. "We'll get stronger."
Aika nodded. "I want to know what I can do."
Daichi smiled. "I'm ready to train."
Victor looked down at his open palm.
"This world is my new home now. I want to grow. I want to fight. I want to forge my path."
"Not as a summoned hero... but as the Blind Swordsman. I'll travel this land, train harder than ever, and one day... I'll stand before that Demon Lord and win."
The queen was about to speak when a calm voice interrupted.
"Excuse me... may I say something?"
All eyes turned.
Victor raised his hand.
The queen nodded. "Yes, Victor Drake?"
Victor took a breath. He steadied himself.
"I don't want to stay here. I want to travel. I want to train alone and grow stronger on my terms. I want to live the swordsman's life—and defeat the Demon Lord my way. I'm not one of the summoned heroes. I want to be free."
The hall was silent.
Shock rippled through the room.
Silence swept through the hall after Victor's declaration.
The nobles, the mages, the guards—all stared in disbelief.
Even the three summoned heroes were stunned.
"You're seriously going to leave?" Riku asked, eyes wide. But then, a slow, understanding nod followed. "Honestly... I respect it. You know exactly what you want. That's rare."
Aika crossed her arms thoughtfully. "You were never meant to be part of this summoning... but you're already stronger than most of us. Go find your own path."
Daichi smiled warmly. "We'll train here... and when we meet again, I bet you'll be unstoppable."
Victor nodded to them, grateful. "They understand. I'm not abandoning anything. I'm chasing it in my own way."
Queen Elenora's expression was still and regal, but her emerald eyes gleamed. She looked to Grand Sage Belthandor, who nodded.
She spoke softly, yet firmly. "I understand, Victor. You were never meant to be summoned. Fate pulled you here by accident—but perhaps not without reason. Go. Live freely."
Victor's face lit up with a wide, genuine smile. "Thank you, Queen. Thank you so much."
Elenora giggled softly, her voice light. "No need to thank me. But I can't let you leave with nothing. You'll need something to start your journey."
She gestured toward a nearby maid. The maid bowed and disappeared down a hallway.
Moments later, she returned, holding a finely crafted satchel. She handed it to Victor with care.
A second voice spoke. The king, seated silently until now, added, "That bag contains 300 gold coins. A magic bag that shrinks its weight and never tears. Consider it a gift of honor."
Victor's jaw slackened slightly. "Three hundred?! That's... more than generous. Thank you, Queen Elenora. I won't waste it."
Elenora nodded. "My maid will escort you out."
The maid stepped forward, bowing with grace. "My name is Lilliane, Sir Drake. Please, come with me."
Victor nodded. "Lead the way."
He turned back one last time, facing the royal hall. He bowed his head.
"I will become stronger. And I will help defeat the Demon Lord—my way. See you all again someday."
He followed Lilliane through the polished marble corridors of the palace. The halls echoed with faint footsteps and gentle winds from stained-glass windows. His senses were alive—mana pressure, sound echoes, subtle textures.
"This world is full of possibilities. I have to train. I have to grow stronger. Not for a prophecy... but for myself. For the way of the blade."
They stepped outside.
Lilliane bowed again. "This path will take you to the main street. Safe travels, Sir Drake."
Victor nodded. "Thank you, Lilliane."
He stepped out, feeling the breeze brush across his face. The palace behind him faded into the distance.
He looked forward.
"I guess... my future starts now."
He began walking. The road was still. No voices. No movement.
"Huh? Where is everyone?"
He turned a corner.
And suddenly—life.
The streets were alive with sound and motion. Laughter echoed from vendors and families. Children sprinted down alleys, chasing each other with wooden swords. Merchants shouted over one another to advertise food, weapons, potions.
Victor's senses were overwhelmed.
The vibrations of a fruit cart rattling on cobblestone. The scent of spiced meat. The buzzing of arcane trinkets in display stalls.
And the people—so many of them weren't human.
Tall felinefolk with twitching ears. Dwarves with enchanted mining picks. Lizardkin juggling flame. Elves wrapped in shimmering silks. Slime-like familiars bouncing behind cloaked summoners.
Victor stood frozen.
"I remember these species. From isekai manga. From light novels. They're... real. All of them. I'm really here."
He turned slowly, taking it all in.
"There's magic in the air. Life. Color. Sound. I can feel it all. Even if I can't see it like they do, I know this world."
He inhaled deeply.
"So many paths. So many places to go. But only one thing matters... how do I get stronger? How do I become the swordsman I once was—and more?"
Victor stopped walking. His hand rested lightly on the hilt at his hip.
He looked upward toward the unseen sky.
"My journey... as the Blind Swordsman... begins now."
To be continued...