Chapter 1 – Page 2: “The Ritual of Heroes”

The sun had begun to dip, dragging a dusky hue across the capital of Aureth. Towering stone walls cast long shadows over the inner districts, the gilded spires of the palace piercing the sky like the polished spears of some ancient god.

Kuro Hayashi stood outside the palace gardens, facing the iron gates leading into the lower quarter. No guards stopped him. No one noticed he was gone.

That was the point.

He moved like mist, slipping through narrow alleys between storied buildings of carved marble and ivy-choked balconies. His footsteps made no sound. His breaths were shallow and measured. He didn’t know this city, but he didn’t need to. All cities followed patterns. Poverty clung to the walls while power gathered at the center.

He traced the heartbeat of the place through its silence.

And found it wanting.

He stood at the edge of a rooftop two hours later, cloak fluttering against the night breeze. Below, nobles dined in courtyards lit by glowing lanterns while vendors in the street hawked roasted fruit and glazed meats.

Laughter rang out. Gold clinked against wood. Someone played a soft melody on a stringed instrument.

Kuro leaned forward slightly. One more step, and he'd vanish into the night. No one here could track him. No one from Earth knew how.

But then...

“I figured you weren’t the type to stay in one place,” came a voice behind him.

He didn’t flinch.

Elenia stood several feet away on the same rooftop, hair loose now, a long green cloak wrapped tight against the wind. A small satchel hung from her shoulder.

He glanced at her. “You followed me.”

“I watched where you slipped through the servants’ gate,” she said with a small shrug. “You’re quiet. But not invisible.”

He didn’t respond.

Elenia took a few steps forward, slow, cautious, like approaching a wild animal. “The palace’s eastern quarter is where they house the heroes. The others are still celebrating. You don’t seem the type.”

“I’m not,” he said flatly.

“Why leave?” she asked. “You’ll be fed. Protected. Given a title.”

Kuro turned his head, eyes meeting hers with that same unreadable expression. “They summoned me. I never agreed to serve.”

“They think you will.”

“Then they’re fools.”

Elenia sat near the edge, legs hanging over the side. “If they find out you’re sneaking off like this, you could be imprisoned. Or worse.”

Kuro didn’t answer. His gaze shifted back to the skyline.

Silence stretched.

Then, softly, she said, “Why did you leave your world?”

That made him pause. Just for a second.

“I didn’t leave it,” he said. “It left me.”

A whisper between words. A truth tucked inside a wound.

They sat in stillness as night folded itself across the sky. The blood moon, rising now, cast the city in deep reds and bruised purples.

“Back home,” Elenia said finally, “were you always like this?”

Kuro looked down at his gloved hands.

“I was something else.”

She waited. When nothing more came, she leaned back on her elbows. “You’re not like the others. They’re afraid. But you… You look like you’ve been through something far worse than a summoning.”

Kuro didn’t move. His voice was soft now. Almost quiet enough to be swallowed by the wind.

“I killed someone,” he said.

Elenia didn’t flinch.

“I’ve killed… a lot of people,” he added.

She nodded slowly. “You’re not the only one.”

That drew his eyes back to her, and this time, they lingered.

“My older brother was conscripted when the war started,” she said. “They made him a battle priest. He healed soldiers during a siege… until he couldn’t anymore. The army left him behind. Said he was spent. A burden.”

Her fingers curled in her lap.

“Three weeks later, my father poisoned the recruitment officer who signed the papers. He was hanged for treason.”

Kuro studied her for a long time. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because everyone here wears masks. Including you.” She looked at him directly. “I thought maybe if I showed you mine, you’d stop pretending not to care.”

He didn’t speak.

She stood. “I brought something.”

From her satchel, she pulled out a worn scarf—green with gold embroidery—and set it beside him. “I made it for one of the heroes. But I think you need it more.”

Kuro eyed it warily.

“It’s not poisoned,” she added with a small smile. “I’m not that dramatic.”

She turned and walked back across the rooftop, vanishing down a narrow stairwell without another word.

Kuro sat there for a long while, staring at the scarf beside him.

Meanwhile, within the palace throne room, the King of Aureth paced behind a long table strewn with maps and sealed letters. Across from him stood Kenji Sato, top student, favorite of the court mages, and already being hailed as the "Mind of the Heroes."

“The others have begun their training,” Kenji reported. “Most are still adjusting. Ayato’s fire magic is unstable but promising. Yumi’s healing is above average. The rest… work in progress.”

“And the quiet one?” the King asked, voice clipped.

“Kuro Hayashi,” Kenji said, adjusting his glasses. “Top scores in all combat simulations back home. No family records. Transferred mid-year with forged documents.”

“So a weapon,” the King muttered.

Kenji’s lips curled slightly. “He’s not here to make friends. We should keep him close. Or keep him monitored.”

The King nodded slowly. “We cannot allow wild cards to disrupt the ritual. The Demon Lord grows stronger. The last thing we need is internal rebellion.”

“I’ll handle it,” Kenji said. “We were classmates, after all.”

The next morning, Kuro returned before the others had even stirred. The palace guards noted his reentry with narrowed eyes, but no one stopped him.

He walked the quiet halls to his assigned quarters—stone walls, a single cot, and a steel-framed window that overlooked the south gardens.

On the bed sat the green scarf. Folded. Neat. Waiting.

He stared at it.

A knock came.

“Hey, Kuro?” Ayato’s voice called from behind the door. “They want us in the hall. Orientation or something. You coming?”

Kuro picked up the scarf.

“I’ll be there.”

He draped it around his neck and stepped into the corridor.

In the Hero’s Hall, the summoned students gathered in uniforms of various magical design—robes that shifted color with enchantments, armor that shimmered with a hint of divine blessing.

Kuro’s uniform remained black. Plain. Without insignia.

Kenji stood at the front, flanked by three generals and two court mages. “Today marks the beginning of your integration into this world. You are no longer students. You are weapons of peace. Protectors of balance.”

Some nodded. Some stood awkwardly.

Kuro said nothing.

Kenji’s eyes briefly flicked toward him. Then away.

“In one week, you’ll be assigned to field missions. Combat evaluations begin today. You’ll be paired with instructors and given a chance to demonstrate your abilities.”

Murmurs rippled through the group.

Kuro’s hand instinctively went to his side. Still unarmed. Still vulnerable.

But not for long.

Later that day, in the arena training grounds behind the palace, students lined up in rows, facing off against instructors who wielded enchanted blades, elemental staffs, and war-hardened experience.

Kuro stood at the edge of the formation.

“Hayashi,” barked a voice.

A tall woman in silver armor pointed at him. “You’re with me. Arena 4.”

He followed without a word.

In the smaller ring, she tossed him a wooden sword.

He let it fall to the ground.

“Pick it up.”

Kuro looked at her. “I don’t need it.”

She raised a brow. “You planning to fight barehanded?”

“No,” he said.

He lunged.

In a blur of motion, he swept behind her, locked her wrist, and drove his palm up toward her chin. Stopped a fraction of an inch before contact.

She froze.

He stepped back.

“I kill,” he said simply. “I don’t spar.”

She rubbed her neck, eyes wide. Then slowly nodded. “Understood.”

That night, Elenia found him again.

“You scared another instructor,” she said, sitting beside him under a different tree.

“I’m not here to impress anyone,” Kuro replied.

She looked at him, then up at the stars. “Maybe not. But they’re watching anyway.”

A pause.

He glanced at her. “Why do you keep talking to me?”

“Because you look like someone who might disappear.”

He didn’t answer.

She leaned in just slightly. “If you do, take me with you.”

[End of Page 2 – Chapter 1]