Chapter 1: The Sage of Infinite Possibilities

Part 1: The Summoning That Broke the System

My world was one of quiet corners and controlled variables—a meticulously organized room, a predictable online game, and absolutely zero surprises. My name is Ren Tanaka, professional recluse. So when the light tore through my apartment, swallowing my life whole, my first thought wasn't about destiny. It was: This is statistically impossible.

I materialized on cold marble with six other students from my school. The grand hall, glowing with stained glass and floating orbs of light, screamed "fantasy cliché." And there she was—the Goddess Elara, radiating power and purpose.

"Heroes of Earth!" she proclaimed. "You have been chosen to save Aethel from the Demon King's tide!"

One by one, she granted them Classes. Brad, our resident athlete, became a Dragon Knight. Chloe, the valedictorian, an Archmage. Their Status screens flared with impressive, specialized skills. The royal court murmured with approval.

Then she reached me. Her finger touched my forehead.

The air cracked. Not a metaphor. The stained glass windows rattled. My Status screen didn't just appear—it erupted, golden text scrolling too fast to read before settling:

Ren Tanaka
Level: 1
Class: SAGE
Titles: The Reincarnated, The Glitched One

Skills:

Comprehensive Magic Affinity (MAX)

Spacetime Manipulation (Locked: Level 10)

Magic Creation Protocol (Active)

The Goddess's serene expression froze. Her eyes widened a fraction. She leaned in, her whisper carrying a divine tremor only I could hear. "A Sage... with the Primordial Codex? That's not a starter kit. That's... the entire theoretical library. How did your soul compile this?"

"I'm good with libraries?" I squeaked.

She straightened, her public mask back in place. "A Sage! A rare and... versatile support class!" The announcement lacked its earlier fanfare. The court saw "Level 1" and lost interest. Sages were scholars, theory-crafters, not front-line fighters.

Part 2: The Library of the Unseen

While the others trained with swords and fireballs, I was given a dusty alcove in the Royal Archives and a sympathetic, elderly magician named Orlin as a "mentor."

"The Comprehensive Affinity means you can feel all six base elements," Orlin explained, tapping a crystal that glowed with different colors. "But to cast, you must study each school for years to achieve even basic proficiency. A daunting path."

I reached out with my senses. I didn't feel six distinct elements. I felt a single, vibrant symphony of energy. The fire mana wasn't just heat; it was rapid excitation. Water was cohesive potential. Earth was stable structure. Wind was dynamic transfer. Light was coherent state. Darkness was... absorbing absence.

Without thinking, I pointed a finger. A perfect, tiny sphere of water appeared, orbiting a core of gentle flame, wrapped in a helix of shimmering light, all contained within a translucent cube of solidified wind.

Orlin's pipe clattered to the stone floor.

"That's... not a known spell," he whispered.

"I just... combined the concepts?" I said, dissolving it with a wave. "It seemed efficient."

By the end of the week, I'd accidentally created seventeen "new" spells according to Orlin's trembling notes. A "Phased Retrieval" charm that could fetch a specific book from any shelf in the library by manipulating spatial affinity. A "Conceptual Candle" that emitted light by temporarily lowering the darkness density in a localized area. My "studies" were less about learning and more about not accidentally warping the fabric of the archives.

Part 3: The Guild Registration

A month in, the palace's patience for a "theoretical" hero waned. I needed a cover. The Adventurer's Guild was the answer—a place where oddities were common and no one asked too many questions.

The guild hall was chaos incarnate. I shuffled to the counter, where a cat-eared receptionist named Mira looked perpetually unimpressed.

"Name. Class. Level."

"Ren. Sage. Level 1."

Her amber eyes flicked to me, then to the invisible status I projected. The pity was immediate. "Sage. Right. No party will touch a Level 1 support. Take a solo herb collection or leave."

"I'll take it," I said quickly.

The job was for Sunbright Moss in the Verdant Hollow. Simple. The moss was non-magical, the Hollow supposedly safe. Of course, I got lost immediately.

Part 4: The "Bandit" Problem

I stumbled upon a scene straight out of a tutorial gone wrong. Three rough-looking men with clubs had cornered a young merchant boy and his cart.

"Just hand over the goods, kid. No one needs to get hurt."

My social anxiety screamed to back away. But the boy was terrified. I couldn't just... not.

"Um," I said, my voice barely audible. All four of them turned to look at me. "Could you... not?"

The lead bandit laughed. "Look! A robe-wearing baby! Get lost, bookworm."

I panicked. I didn't know combat spells. But I understood concepts. Threat. Dispersal. Non-lethal.

I didn't chant. I just willed it. My Comprehensive Affinity let me feel the air, the earth, the moisture in it, the light around us.

[Spell Created: "Beguiling Mirage"]

A perfect, terrifying illusion of a Royal Knight patrol materialized behind the bandits, armor clanking, voices shouting. The bandits yelped and fled into the woods, dropping their clubs.

The illusion faded. The boy stared at me, mouth agape. I'd just cast a seamless, multi-sensory illusion combining light, wind (for sound), and water (for the shimmer) without a single word or gesture.

"T-thank you, mister mage!"

"It was... a pre-prepared spell scroll," I lied weakly, grabbing my moss and nearly running back to town.

Part 5: An Invitation and a Test

Back at the guild, Mira took the moss. "Bandits on the low road. Did you see anything?"

"N-no. All quiet."

She gave me that same searching look. "A new job. Old Farmer Gerran. Says his well is haunted. Water turns foul, eerie sounds. Probably just a Lesser Water Spirit or a blocked aquifer. Investigation job. Pay is silver. You... seem like an investigator."

It was a test. I could feel it.

At the farm, the well did radiate a faint, chaotic mana signature—not a spirit, but a destabilized Aqua-Manic Node, a natural mana spring that was pulsing erratically, corrupting the water. A standard mage would try to dispel or purify it. I saw the structure of the magic, the rhythm of its corruption.

I focused. I didn't fight the chaos. I re-composed it. Using my affinity, I wrote a new, stable magical pattern directly into the node's output—a simple, endless purification loop. It was like rewriting a corrupted file with clean code.

The water in the well below cleared instantly, glowing with a soft, healthy blue light. The foul smell vanished.

Farmer Gerran wept with gratitude. I returned to the guild.

"Fixed it," I muttered to Mira.

"Fixed... a haunted well?"
"Wasn't haunted. Just... a unstable magical geological feature. I stabilized it."
"You... a Level 1 Sage... stabilized a mana node."
"I read a lot."

She processed this, her tail twitching slowly. Then she slid a new parchment across the counter. "Party job. Kaelen's Vanguards. Good kids. They're clearing Whispering Barrow, a low-level undead nest. They need a support for curse-checking and light magic. You'll do."

"Party? I work solo—"

"Take it or your registration lapses. Guild rules. Parties get better jobs." Her smile was sharp. "Don't die. The paperwork is terrible."

Part 6: Into the Whispering Dark

And that's how I found myself at the city gates at dawn, standing beside three people who radiated competence.

Kaelen, the Vanguard, beamed with a sword over his shoulder. "Ren, right? The Sage! Heard you fixed Gerran's well. Nice work!"

Lydia, the Elementalist, looked skeptical, her staff tapping impatiently. "A Sage for a Barrow crawl? Hope you know a decent Ward spell."

Fie, the Scout, just watched me, her eyes missing nothing.

The Barrow entrance was a dark maw in a hillside. As we entered, the air grew cold and thick with the mana of decay—a mix of unstable earth and corrupted darkness elements.

Kaelen took point. "Stay behind me, Ren. Lydia, light. Fie, scout ahead."

We encountered our first enemy: two Shambling Corpses, level 5. Kaelen charged, his sword blazing with holy skill. Lydia launched a firebolt. Standard tactics.

Then a third shambler emerged from a side passage, directly toward me. Lydia was casting again. Kaelen was engaged. Fie was somewhere in the shadows.

The corpse lunged.

My mind, calm in crisis, analyzed. Target: Undead. Composition: Animated flesh, bound by necrotic darkness mana. Weakness: Positive energy, structural disruption.

I didn't have a "Turn Undead" spell. So I created one.

I reached for the Light mana (coherent state) and the Wind mana (dynamic transfer). I combined them into a new construct: a pulse of coherent kinetic energy tuned to disrupt necrotic bindings.

[Spell Created: "Luminance Wave"]

I raised a hand. A silent, visible ripple of golden force erupted from my palm. It didn't burn or blast. It passed through the Shambling Corpse.

The creature stopped. The darkness in its eyes flickered and went out. It didn't fall apart; it just... stopped being animated, collapsing into a harmless pile of bones and rot.

The battlefield went silent. Kaelen finished his foe and turned. Lydia's half-formed firebolt sputtered out.

"What," Lydia said slowly, "was that?"

"A... a light spell?" I offered weakly. "For... dispersing negative energy?"

Kaelen grinned, awe in his eyes. "Disperse? You unmade it! That was incredible!"

Fie dropped from the ceiling, landing silently beside me. She looked from the pile of bones to my face. "No chant. No focus. You cast that like breathing." Her voice was low, curious. "What kind of Sage are you?"

I pushed my glasses up, my heart pounding. The secret was getting harder to keep. And we were only at the entrance.

Teaser for Chapter 2: The depths of the barrow hold a greater secret—a cursed altar warping spacetime. When Lydia is trapped in a temporal loop, Ren must use his locked Spacetime Manipulation early, revealing a power that should be impossible for any Level 1... and attracting the gaze of something ancient sleeping beneath the earth.