Dear readers,
The story may feel slow at the beginning, as I take the time to build the world. Don't expect an overpowered protagonist right away in the first chapters either — his true potential will be revealed gradually, step by step.
Enjoy your reading, and thank you for your support!
...
Déon was fascinated by what he discovered through books.
He had transmigrated into a fantasy world called Eridoria. According to history, a very, very long time ago, only the sword ruled. The world was filled with warriors who swore by blood alone. But one day, certain people began to perceive an energy called Mana and awakened to it—they were called mages. Very quickly, those chosen by mana, blessed with magic, began to gradually establish their dominance over the world and set up their monarchies.
The mages created revolutionary technologies that changed the world. Always pushing the limits of research, exploring a completely unknown field, the Mages' Tower eventually triggered abnormal phenomena beyond their control. This was the origin of portals containing monsters. At first, the appearance of portals was concentrated in just one territory, but little by little, it spread to every continent.
Unable to overcome the situation alone, the mages called upon the help of the warriors. But even with their combined strength, they could barely hold the line. The creatures of the void were gaining ground, and humanity was losing more each day. The balance of the world was in danger.
Drowning in despair, mankind began praying for divine intervention, but received no answer. Just as the world was losing hope, the priests received a divination indicating that soon, mankind would be blessed with divine grace to defeat this calamity.
Then one day, status windows began appearing to everyone without distinction, granting them skills and professions (Warrior, Archer, Hunter, Assassin, Priest, Summoner, Mage…). This event was called the Awakening.
It was thanks to these skills that the pioneers—the heroes—were finally able to triumph, closing most of the portals and sealing away those whose danger level defied human strength. From then on, the world entered a period of peace.
Magic became the norm. Even those in the warrior profession began to use magic, and were now called magic swordsmen. Today, it is rare to find warriors capable of using aura and mana. The training required is simply too great, and the younger generation is made up almost entirely of magic warriors.
Déon kept reading without stopping.
"Young man, the library will be closing soon."
It was the librarian's voice that pulled him from his concentration. He looked toward the horizon and realized he had stayed far too long.
"Damn, I didn't see the time pass," he said, quickly getting up to put the books away before hurrying home.
"Ma'am, thank you for today. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow!" Jeanne replied, still quite surprised, before starting to prepare to close. But what could have caused this change in that boy? she wondered, looking thoughtful.
On his way home, Déon organized his thoughts, sorting through the information he had gathered in the library, when a group of local youths stopped him. It was Théo and his gang.
"Hey, you useless thing, what are you doing around here?" Théo shouted at him.
"Keep your voice down, Théo. He never comes out alone—maybe his mother is around," Jack reminded him. Taking Jack's warning seriously, Théo glanced around to make sure Déon's mother wasn't nearby.
As for Déon, when he heard Théo's yelling, he stopped. Théo and his gang often insulted and mocked him, but they had never dared lay a hand on him. They were too afraid of the consequences. Everyone knew that Nox, Déon's father, was a madman, and his mother… well, she was special.
After stopping, Déon thought about what to do, and finally, not knowing exactly how to respond, he simply gave them a smile before slipping away.
A few minutes later, Déon was home. As soon as he stepped into the living room, he saw his mother sitting there, staring at him with a questioning look. Without her saying a word, Déon knew he owed her an explanation.
"Mom, I was at the library. I didn't notice the time passing," he said timidly, unsure how to react.
"Do you plan to become a scholar by dedicating yourself to literature?" asked Déon's mother, impatient to hear his answer. Hmm, a scholar… that's not so bad, she thought, an amused expression on her face.
Scholars were bookworms. They were part of the nobility who had abandoned power struggles in the open to devote themselves to politics and administrative work. Above all, they were writers who influenced public ideology. They wielded great power from the shadows.
"No, I just wanted to learn a bit more about history, geography, and types of monsters," Déon replied, while his mother looked at him with bright eyes.
"Monsters? Are you saying you want to become a guardian?" Tilda asked, her face full of worry.
"Yes, that's right," Déon stammered.
"You've changed far too much. Is everything alright? It seems like your accident is behind these changes." It could have sounded like a joke or mockery, but Tilda was genuinely worried for her child.
"So you want to become a guardian, huh? Haha, looks like our son has big dreams, dear," said Déon's father, entering the living room.
"Huh?" Déon was surprised by his father's arrival. He hadn't even heard him open the door.
"Oh, Nox, I didn't even sense you," said Tilda, getting up to greet her husband.
Nox's profession was hunter. This class shared many skills with assassins, the only difference being that they did not use daggers and didn't have shadow as an attribute. The shadow attribute was exclusive to the assassin class.
After Tilda finished embracing her husband, Nox began staring intently at Déon. It was as if he was using a skill to observe him, because the atmosphere in the room shifted.
Déon, with a worried expression, didn't even dare raise his head to look at his father.
"He's changed, Tilda. No—'changed' isn't the word. It's like he's someone else. Even his presence feels different since the accident," Nox said to his wife, still scrutinizing Déon.
"Maybe something happened to him while he was unconscious," Tilda suggested seriously.
"Do you feel anything unusual? Has your status window changed?" Nox asked his son, who shook his head in response.
"Let's keep watching him. His change was too radical," Nox thought, though he was a little proud of Déon. Unlike before, he now had a dignified bearing. He then asked him seriously why he wanted to become a guardian.
Déon didn't know why his father had suddenly become so serious. Maybe he was simply worried. In his previous world, no one had ever truly cared about him.
"I just want to become stronger so I can protect my loved ones and explore the world," he said—that was what he had in mind, at least for now.
"Oh, Nox, look how our child has grown. Yes, he's becoming strong to protect me—how adorable," Tilda commented, stroking Déon.
Nox, on the other hand, was surprised. He hadn't expected that kind of answer. He thought Déon would talk about wanting to be a hero or even a village chief. Like it or not, that was the dream of many children from the lower classes—they all wanted to be the head of their community.
"I see," Nox commented, trying to close the discussion.
Observing his father's reaction, Déon realized he was trying to end the topic, but he hadn't said everything yet. He wanted to share more of his plans with his parents.
"Father, I'd like to learn weapon handling," he said after a moment's hesitation.
"Weapon handling? For what? Aren't you a mage?" Nox replied, visibly very surprised.
"Yes, but since I don't have any offensive skills, I thought…" Déon began, leaving his sentence hanging.
Tilda and Nox were even more shocked. They would never forget that day. What Déon was suggesting was technically possible, but very difficult to achieve. If he were a warrior, Nox would understand that he simply wanted to explore other ways to become strong—but he was a mage.
These days, no one cares about weapon handling anymore. Everyone focuses on the skill they received during their awakening, Tilda thought. The mere fact that her son had started asserting himself made her proud, and she didn't want to say something that might break him. "He's only twelve, let him try," she told Nox, waiting for his approval.
Weapon handling was an art that had been lost after the population began awakening.
Even today's warriors no longer used a weapon-handling style. They simply focused on raising the level of their initial skills to unlock others by killing monsters. The wealthier ones, who found training or monster hunting too difficult, simply bought skill books.
Convinced that his son would come to his senses after experiencing the difficulty, Nox promised him two weapon-handling books before heading for the shower.
He had had enough surprises for one day. Being a parent really isn't easy, he thought before leaving the room.