I sat in the shade beneath a small tree—not my usual spot, but a slope overlooking the village from afar. People stood below, and the silence made it clear that everyone from the surroundings had gathered here.
I always thought gatherings like this ended with a fair, but a fair would've been far more pleasant. At least there, you could choose what to buy—and from whom.
"Ignis Sacrum."
The spell was spoken, and I saw one shrouded body ignite first, followed by the rest as the flames spread.
Golden fire slowly rose higher, enveloping the bodies laid row after row, packed so tightly the space between them nearly vanished. The smell hit instantly, and I winced, breathing shorter, trying not to draw in that bitter sting.
I stared without blinking.
Zenith, Paul, and Laws stood at the front; the villagers remained silent, hardly moving. The flames rose, swallowing the corpses, turning their shapes into uneven silhouettes.
It all felt strange to me, because not long ago I'd lived a completely ordinary life—training with a sword almost daily, though not as intensely as before because I finally had the chance to study magic. Laughing sometimes at Paul's antics, who always managed to make a mess at the worst possible moment. Arguing with Roxy now and then.
This world wasn't mine. I knew that, and I'd long accepted it, yet somewhere deep inside lingered a naive hope—if I avoided filth, stayed away from war, didn't chase heroic deeds, then everything around me would remain peaceful.
I lived like that, convincing myself a simple life would protect me from everything lurking beyond the village.
How naive.
Here, lives are worth nothing. One strike. One mistake. One word. And a person is gone. Fire takes the body, the earth erases the trace before you can even look away. Memory? Who would remember? No one.
And to survive—you must know how to kill.
This wasn't a secret. Paul said it openly, softening nothing. Roxy simply showed it in training—her precise movements making it obvious she'd lived through far more than she ever said. Even Lilia, with all her restraint, didn't hide the truth written in her every step.
But something inside me felt off, and I realized I was still clinging too tightly to my old life.
Now I had to live in a place where one wrong move can cost everything. Letting go of old thinking wasn't easy, and sometimes it felt like I had one foot there and the other here, unable to fully enter this new reality.
My gaze fell on Paul and Laws.
They stood together, watching the flames with a calmness that made the whole scene feel like routine.
In that moment, a simple and unpleasant thought struck me: I live among people who have killed. Not once. And not just one person.
Even this quiet village survived only because Paul and Laws were stronger than those who came with bad intentions. When bandits appeared, when thieves and killers hid in the hills, they didn't negotiate—they killed.
These bodies being burned now… Maybe they would've done the same to us. Maybe not. But they had no chance.
In my previous world, I never met a single person who had taken a life. There, death felt distant—something you heard in the news, saw in a movie, a tragedy belonging to someone else, discussed briefly and forgotten. Here, it had become part of my life. Unavoidable. No matter how many times people explained it. No matter how many swords I saw.
Not until you see it yourself. Not until you stand like this—under the sun, smelling burning flesh, watching people who are simply doing their job…
"Why the long face?" a voice beside me said.
I jolted and turned. Roxy stood there, arms crossed, and only then did I realize I hadn't heard her approach at all. She always moved quietly—effortlessly invisible until she chose to speak.
"It's just… strange…" I murmured.
Roxy tilted her head slightly.
"Of course it's strange. It's rare such a large band gathers…"
She sat down beside me, hands behind her head, legs stretched out as if simply resting after a normal day. She lay back in the shade so casually it was hard to tell whether the burning pyres bothered her at all. Her hat slid over her eyes.
I looked again at the fires. The flame consumed the bodies slowly, and the sight made it hard to breathe.
"Hey…" I hesitated. "Have you ever… killed someone?"
Roxy lifted the brim of her hat.
"What kind of question is that?" she said lazily. "I was an adventurer."
She closed her eyes again, as if the topic required no effort.
"And what does that mean…?"
"Well, it happened a couple of times…"
I had always imagined her differently. Light, sharp-tongued, focused on her ideas and lessons—not someone who could stand before another person and make a decision they would never rise from.
I knew it was foolish to think that, but I clung to the image I'd created. Roxy felt like someone above all this, yet her casual acknowledgment now lay between us like a simple fact.
"Are you scared?" Roxy asked, not moving.
"Who wouldn't be…" I muttered, staring past the pyres.
"You're studying magic," she said, lifting her hat slightly. "And magic isn't harmless. Not to others, not to you. Same with a sword. You're practicing that too. Why? Want to be a warrior? Or a mage?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but the words stuck. The thought fell apart so abruptly I fell silent, as if someone had cut a string inside.
A wave of questions rose within me, and I realized I had never really thought why I even picked up a sword. The answer came quickly: Paul said so, and I didn't argue. I wasn't against it. Paul spoke—I did.
And magic? There was nothing to think about. If magic exists, do you really need a special reason to want to learn it? For those born here—maybe. But for me, it had always been something distant, something from games, manga, anime. And suddenly, it became real enough to touch.
But had I ever studied it with the thought that one day I might have to use it… to kill?
"Then…" I said quietly. "Maybe you could teach me combat magic?"
"Oh? Is duel magic not enough for you anymore?"
I shook my head.
"No. Just… if the world is the way you say… then I need to be able not only to defend myself."
The thought rooted itself firmly—so clear I wondered why it hadn't before.
Defense works when someone has your back. But if one day no one stands behind you? If you must stand alone, like Zenith, Paul, and Laws stand now? Then shields won't be enough.
I looked at the corpses in the distance, and the scene pushed me toward a conclusion I'd always avoided. If those people had come at night, if they'd been more numerous, if magic or swords failed… what would be left of the village? Of us? Too much depended on strength, and I couldn't pretend that had nothing to do with me.
"All right," Roxy said. "But understand this: in battle no one gives you time to breathe. Make a mistake, and you're dead."
I nodded.
In my old world—Japan—things were different. Killing was a crime, and death was a rare, tragic event. People were taught to solve conflicts with words, and even a simple fight could end with police intervention.
Here, that doesn't work.
I can remember old rules all I want. I can cling to them like a life raft, hoping they'll save me from what happens around me. But in this world… in this world, death is part of life. Killing—a skill. And if I don't learn it, I'll become a target. One of many. Just another number in someone's memory.
The values I was raised with stayed in the past. In a place I no longer live.
The fear didn't vanish. It just changed—quieter, but no less heavy. And one thought repeated itself inside me with stubborn clarity:
I just hope the day never comes when I truly have to do it.
***
Training grounds.
Right now I was standing on the dry soil of the yard near the house. A wand was in my hand, the red crystal at its tip pulsing with a faint light. Symbols flared in my mind, and one by one they arranged themselves into the proper order, forming a clear chain.
"Water. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become a flow. Follow my call..."
I swung the wand and finished the spell. The air before me trembled, as if something inside it shifted, and then the first drop appeared. Another followed. A thin trickle thickened, gathering straight out of empty space.
This was Materialization.
The next tier of magic—far more difficult than simple elemental control. Before, I only had to guide the power that already existed around me. Now I had to create what wasn't there, and hold its form while mana flowed through me. Controlling it required much finer precision, and any mistake could turn the spell into a pathetic parody of what it was meant to be.
Especially for me.
There was too much mana in me, and keeping it within the proper limits was far harder than for others. It wanted to surge forward, overflow the form, tear the spell apart before it was ready.
But I still managed to learn Materialization, largely thanks to Roxy's training—she made me return to control again and again until the flow finally began to obey.
I swung the wand again, and the gathered droplets trembled, rushed toward one another, and merged into a large transparent sphere. It hung in the air before me, slowly rotating, held aloft only because I didn't relax the mana flow for even a moment.
Splash!
The moment I loosened my control, the sphere collapsed, hit the ground, and splattered across the dry soil.
I raised the wand again and exhaled, focusing on the next chain of symbols.
"Fire. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become flame. Burn at my call."
A bright spark flared before me, then scattered embers, and a small but steady flame ignited in midair. It flickered, as if waiting for a command.
"Disperse."
The fire vanished instantly, as though it had never been. Another successful result. My lips whispered the next incantation, as if my body already knew the order better than I did.
"Wind. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become a gust. Race at my call."
The air shivered, and a thin stream of wind shot forward, stirring the dry dust. I dispelled it with a short motion of the wand, not allowing it to build strength.
Then I exhaled and continued.
"Earth. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become stone. Move at my call."
The air before me thickened, as if something heavy was forming within it, and a moment later a small fragment of stone appeared. It hovered, rotating slowly, and I dispersed it just like the others, letting it crumble into dust and fade.
I did it!
I froze for a second, staring at the empty space where the elements had hovered one after another just moments ago. I had never before managed to summon all four in such a short time. Usually, long pauses were needed—to calm the mana flow, rebuild it, gather concentration again. But now it all happened almost easily.
Joy flared inside me so sharply I barely stopped myself from laughing.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"Finally, you're not trying to kill yourself with every method available," Roxy said, clapping her hands. "I was starting to think you see magic as a form of suicide."
I nearly jumped and spun around.
"Could you at least cough before you walk up?" I exhaled. "Or shuffle your feet. Or ring a bell! Anything!"
"A bell?" Roxy raised a brow. "Should I hang a sign too? 'Careful, I sneak quietly'?"
"I'd even be glad for the sign!" I said, still catching my breath. "You appear quieter than a ghost!"
"That was a compliment," she noted with satisfaction. "Keep this up and I might even consider not killing you during training."
"Wonderful," I muttered. "Another day I'm promised not to be killed."
Roxy snorted, though a faint smile touched her lips.
"Today you didn't explode, didn't set yourself on fire, didn't fall through the ground. That's progress, Rudy. Real progress. Almost boring."
Roxy sighed, ran a hand over her face, and murmured under her breath:
"A year… materializing all four elements. Fine… yes. Just… a little irritating."
She walked closer slowly, staring at the ground rather than at me, as if the answer to how this was possible was written somewhere in the dirt.
"I spent a year learning to summon just water. And you…"
She waved her hand.
I shrugged.
"Well… I try."
My face twitched, and I barely stopped myself from smirking.
Roxy walked aside as if she simply wanted to stretch. But there was something else in her step—subtle, but there. A sense tightened inside me, and I felt the approach of something that was never accidental.
I stepped to the side.
"Shot."
Something flew past my cheek the next instant. A sharp blue projectile sliced the air and scattered into sparks, leaving behind a crisp sound like cracking glass.
"I see…" she said lazily, lips twitching in a smirk. "Shot."
"Shield."
The next blue projectile shot from her direction faster than the first. I was already lifting my hand, and a shield flared before me. It absorbed the impact, trembling as if unprepared for such force, but held. The energy scattered across its surface and vanished without touching my skin.
"Shot."
I raised the wand and fired a spell back.
Roxy slid aside so smoothly it looked like she knew the trajectory before I even imagined it.
"Earth. Submit. Glide."
The ground beneath my feet suddenly shifted.
I jumped on instinct—after all, the ground wasn't supposed to move. But the moment I stepped aside, the stone under my foot seemed to give way. My leg slipped downward and sideways, dragging my weight with it. I lost balance faster than I could understand what had happened.
"Shot."
I fell sideways and rolled over my shoulder, dodging the blue projectile. Instinctively I raised my hand, and a shield flared before me, guarding against a possible next strike.
"Finally," I heard her laugh. "Three more falls and you'll have your own signature technique."
"Shot." But she simply stepped aside and it flew past.
"Come on, child of magic, impress me," Roxy said, lifting a brow. "Just don't kill yourself. I want to drink tea in peace afterward."
She stepped sideways, and in that same moment I raised the wand:
"Wind. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become a gust. Race at my call. Blind!"
A burst of wind shot forward, hitting straight toward her face. I saw the grass bend under it. Roxy dipped her chin slightly, and the gust passed above her.
"Seriously? Going to tickle me?"
"It was a distra—" I cut myself off. Hand up. "Shield!"
The shield flared and immediately proved useful. Her new shot was direct and fast like a whip strike. It hit square in the center. The barrier shook but held.
I didn't wait. My projectile flew at her chest. Her shoulder twitched, but she was already out of the way.
"Stiff," she snorted. "Like a post trying to play magician."
The ground jerked beneath me.
"Earth. Toss. Knock," Roxy commanded.
I tried to jump but didn't make it. A chunk of earth burst upward and struck my sole, knocking my footing away. I landed unevenly, my body lurched forward, and I almost fell to my knees.
"You're holding up well," she said, "except for shouting your spells like you're selling fish at the market."
"It's training format!" I yelled, firing another projectile.
"Sure. Training. A year of this and your diction is still like a church preacher's… who taught you like that?"
Shield. Shot. Shield.
"Wind. Emerge from mana. Obey my will. Become a gust. Race at my call. Blind!" — another attempt. And another miss. She simply raised her elbow to cover her face and stepped back.
"Awful. Too long. By the time you finish, I'll cook dinner, eat, sleep, and still dodge."
I was already out of breath. Roxy hadn't even broken a sweat.
"Maybe… you… could teach me the shortened version?"
"Maybe…"
And another attack.
"Earth. Rise. Cover," Roxy said calmly, not even raising her voice.
I only managed to lift the wand.
The ground burst beneath me. Dust flew into my face, dirt got into my mouth. My eyes squeezed shut on their own, breath breaking. I stumbled out of the thick cloud, coughing, squinting, trying to find her. The wind didn't help—it only chased the dust in circles like a trapped animal.
"Wait…" I rasped, wiping my face.
Click.
Something hard struck my forehead. A sharp, familiar snap. My head jerked back, my leg buckled, and I sat down in the grass.
Roxy stood before me, expression unreadable.
"One hundred thirteen to zero…" she said.
"There's progress… almost brings a tear to a teacher's eye. One. Almost."
I opened my mouth to reply, but the dust still clung to my throat—coughing cut off the words. I tried to stand but only shook my head, wiping my face.
A cold pillar of water crashed down on me, soaking me from head to toe.
"That was the warm-up. Now we can move on to something more serious…"
Roxy was already standing, twirling her staff in her hand.
I froze.
Before my eyes—the memory of that day. Five years. Words from the book. Mana I couldn't feel. Then sudden cold in my hand. The roar of wind. The scar that still ran the length of my arm.
Almost lost the hand.
I looked at Roxy but saw the flash. The blade of air. Skin cut open. The smell of my own flesh.
"Hey," she said calmly. "It won't happen again. I'm here. You're not pulling the spell blindly this time. I'm watching. I'll hold it if you lose control."
I nodded.
My voice hardened.
"Got it."
"Then we start with the basics…"