Chapter 1: The One Who Was Asked to Leave

The Sanctum Hall was once again filled with low murmurs.
Mages and knights drew closer to one another, whispering with tense expressions.

“No magic.”
“Completely empty.”
“If this becomes known…”

King Aldric listened without responding. His gaze remained fixed forward, as if nothing had happened. Then he slowly raised his hand.

“The ceremony is over. You will stay in the residences we have prepared. My knights will guide you to your accommodations.”

All the heroes departed for their new lodgings. Kiryu, however, was asked to remain by the king.

“Your name is Kiryu Asuka, correct?”

“Yes.”

There was no explanation.
No accusation.

Those words alone were enough.

The private audience chamber felt quieter than any hall. The evening light brushed against the old wooden floor as King Aldric stood beside the table.

He placed a small pouch on its surface. The metal inside clinked softly.

“This is not a gift.”
“Consider it compensation so you may leave without causing a disturbance.”

Kiryu stared at the pouch for a long moment. There was no shock on his face.

Exactly like the script.

“Enough gold coins.”
“Leave Aurelion Sanctum, and tell no one what you witnessed today.”

Kiryu took the pouch calmly.

“Very well.”

The king turned slightly, his voice lowering.

“Do you not feel this is unfair?”

Kiryu shook his head slowly.

“No.”
“I am only confirming one thing.”

He looked straight at the king.

“For some reason, I feel like I have entered the novel world I created myself.”

The king did not understand. Perhaps he could not understand at all what Kiryu meant.

Kiryu turned and walked away—without bowing, without excess emotion.

When the door closed, his resolve was already firm.

He was not cast out because he failed.
He was removed because he was too aware.

In the end, Kiryu decided to leave. He knew the kingdom no longer needed him.

Princess Lysandra stood atop the tower, an ancient tome open in her hands. The evening wind flipped a page she had memorized by heart.

“A hero without a sword, without magic, without blessing.”

Her chest tightened.

“He is the one who will bring peace to the world.”

But it was already too late.

“Father… that decision was far too hasty.”

King Aldric remained silent. For the first time, his expression wavered.

“Kiryu Asuka…” he murmured softly.

A guard entered, head bowed.

“Your Majesty, he has passed through the eastern gate. Far away.”

Silence fell.

Princess Lysandra clenched the book tightly.

“We have just driven away the only hero who does not need the gods.”

The king closed his eyes, regret weighing heavily upon him.

Kiryu’s work clothes were worn, their color faded by dust and sleepless days. He walked along a narrow path between hills, gripping the small pouch at his waist—not gold, but memories.

Avelyn Hollow, he repeated in his mind.
The safest place.

The name was exactly as written in his manuscript. The only location untouched by war, ignored by the kingdom, and too small for anyone to care about.

His steps began to falter. His vision blurred, his breathing shallow.

“Just a little farther…” he murmured.

In the distance, simple rooftops emerged through the morning mist. The air felt cooler. Cleaner.

Kiryu stumbled.

The world spun.

He collapsed on the dirt path of the village—and did not rise again.

Hurried footsteps approached.

“Hey—there’s someone here!”
“He’s still breathing!”

Several farmers crouched around him. Rough but warm hands supported his shoulders.

“Take him to the village. Quickly.”

Kiryu heard nothing more.

But for the first time since leaving the kingdom’s gates, he collapsed in the right place.

Morning sunlight slipped through the gaps of a wooden window. Warm, calm—too calm.

Kiryu opened his eyes slowly, his breathing lighter than yesterday.

“This place…?”

A middle-aged woman tending the hearth turned and smiled in relief.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

She approached, carrying a wooden bowl filled with simple soup.

“We found you unconscious on the village road. The farmers carried you here.”

Kiryu lowered his gaze to his body. The white sleeveless shirt he wore felt unfamiliar—clearly not his own.

“We didn’t recognize your clothes,” the woman continued casually. “Are you an outsider?”

Kiryu sat up quickly and accepted the bowl. He ate and drank without hesitation.

Warm.
Delicious.

He ignored the question. The village woman merely smiled, assuming Kiryu was simply a lost traveler.

For a moment, his face truly relaxed.

This simple meal—far more honest than any royal banquet.

But once the bowl was empty, his thoughts began to move again.

My manuscript…
This world has been abandoned by the gods.
The king lied.

Kiryu lay back down, staring at the simple wooden ceiling.

In the manuscript, this village was safe.

A harsh shout suddenly shattered the morning.

Kiryu turned toward the window.

Several armed men stood in the middle of the village. The villagers gathered, their faces pale.

“Protection money!”
“If you don’t pay, we burn your houses!”
“Or we’ll release monsters from the hills!”

An elderly farmer stepped forward, removing his hat, his hands trembling.

“P-please wait, sir…”
“Our income is small.”
“Since the Black Dragon was sighted in the Northern Mountains, no merchants dare to pass through.”

A mother knelt, clutching her child tightly.

“We beg you…”
“If our homes are burned, we will have nothing left.”

The bandit let out a short laugh.

“That’s not our problem.”
“Pay, or this village is finished.”

Kiryu stood frozen behind the window.

This was not in the manuscript.

His chest felt heavy.

This village was not safe.
It had simply not been touched yet.

Now he understood.

If the world continued according to the old script, Avelyn Hollow would be destroyed without ever being recorded by anyone.

Kiryu clenched his fist.

In that case…

I am the one who must change the script.

There was only one problem.

He was beginning to realize it.

He had no magic.
No sword.
No blessing.

Only his mind—
and even that did not yet know where to begin.

In the evening, Kiryu sat on a wooden bench in front of the house. A middle-aged man with a weary face—the village chief of Avelyn Hollow—stood before him.

“What is happening in this village?” Kiryu asked softly, his tone calm but sharp.

The village chief gave a thin smile, far too quickly.

“Nothing at all.”
“Just a small problem.”

Kiryu watched the man’s fingers continuously gripping the hem of his clothes.

“A small problem doesn’t make people kneel and beg,” Kiryu replied flatly.

The village chief fell silent for a moment, then let out a forced chuckle.

“We’re used to it.”
“A small village like this… that’s how it is.”

He lightly patted Kiryu’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

But as the man turned away, his shoulders looked far too heavy for a “small problem.”

Kiryu understood.

He was not given an answer because the answer was too costly.

Night fell. Kiryu lay on the wooden bed, staring at the dark ceiling.

In the manuscript…
the protagonist does this.

He closed his eyes, steadied his breathing, and tried to “meditate” just as he had written before—not to seek magic, but to confirm one thing.

Had this world truly closed all paths to him?

Silence pressed in.

Then—

something appeared.

In the air, strokes of light like ink being drawn. Line by line, they formed a page.

A book slowly opened before him.

Not a spellbook.
Not a god’s scripture.

It was a manuscript.

Kiryu opened his eyes, holding his breath.

“So… this is the answer.”

On the cover of the first page, a single word was engraved clearly.

Not magic meant to destroy.
Not power meant to kill.

But the ability to rewrite cause and effect.

Kiryu smiled—a small, genuine smile.

“I don’t need a sword.”
“I only need a pen.”

He closed the book slowly.

Bandits.
Threats.
Monsters.

All of them were no longer the end of the story—
but drafts that could be corrected.

For the first time since being cast out, Kiryu truly felt alive.

He could write again.

And this time,
the world had no right to reject it.