In a cave secluded from the city, seven hooded figures gathered around a magical circle engraved on the ground.
The air was heavy, filled with an unsettling energy.
"Are you sure we should do this?"
A trembling voice asked.
"We can't waste any more time," another said. "If we keep hesitating, it will all have been for nothing."
The hooded figures began the summoning, and the magical circle lit up until the whiteness consumed the cave.
Kei felt the ground vanish beneath his feet.
Then… nothing.
"…Huh?"
He opened his eyes. The sky was not the same.
"Where… am I?" Kei murmured as he got up from the ground.
He looked around. The stone streets, the unfamiliar people, and the constant noise all felt strange.
"Wait… am I… in a fantasy world?" he said, surprised. "Then I… I'm the chosen one!"
"Hey, kid! Get out of the way!"
Kei turned his head just in time to see a large merchant cart heading toward him, loaded with barrels of honey.
"Um, yes… excuse me, please!" he said as he stepped aside.
"Uh… what do I do in this world? They didn't even give me a tutorial…" Kei murmured, walking lost through some alleys in the city. "But I am the chosen one! I'm sure the world will give me clues."
He walked with a confident smile, maintaining a facade of superiority as he moved aimlessly.
Kei stopped at the entrance of a tavern in the middle of an alley. The smell of damp wood and blood hit his nose, though he barely paid attention.
"Oh… a tavern?"
"Ha. When I go in, everyone will be amazed to know I'm the chosen one."
He said it out loud, but no one heard.
With a confident smile, he pushed the door open.
Inside, the tavern was noisy. Laughter, clinking glasses, raised voices.
But as Kei stepped inside, the sound slowly faded.
Not immediately.
Just enough for him to notice.
Several gazes fell on him. Some curious, others clearly hostile.
Kei swallowed.
"What's going on?
—Never seen someone so important?"
He took a few steps further inside the tavern. The wooden floor creaked under his feet, far too loud for the awkward silence that had formed.
"Tch…" he clicked his tongue. "What a poor reception."
No one responded.
A huge man sitting near the bar set down his mug with a heavy thud. His arms were covered in scars, and a sword leaned against the wall within reach.
"Hey," he said in a deep voice. "I haven't seen you before."
Kei lifted his chin.
"Of course not," he replied. "I just arrived in this world."
Some laughter was heard in the background.
"To this world?" another patron repeated. "And who are you supposed to be?"
Kei smiled.
"The chosen one."
Silence returned. But this time, it lasted only a second.
Then the tavern erupted in laughter.
"HAHAHA
—Did you hear that?
—Another crazy one…"
Kei's smile tensed.
"Laugh if you want," he said, trying to keep his composure. "You'll regret it soon."
The scarred man slowly stood. His shadow fell over Kei.
"Listen, kid," he said, leaning slightly toward him. "We don't like liars… or fools here."
Kei felt a shiver run down his spine.
But still, he took a step forward.
"So what?" he asked. "Are you going to challenge the chosen one?"
The man smiled.
Not a kind smile.
"No.
I'm going to teach you how this world works."
Then the man's hand clenched into a fist.
The silence in the tavern broke with a deep laugh.
"Ha… hey, kid, do you know where you are?" said a man sitting near the back.
Kei frowned.
"Of course I do. This is where my story begins," he replied, puffing out his chest.
Some laughed. Others only glanced at him indifferently.
The man stood. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a sword hanging at his side. He didn't look like a knight, but a mercenary.
"If you're so special…" he said, approaching, "why don't you prove it?"
Kei swallowed.
"Uh…?"
"A fight… wouldn't be bad," he replied, trying to sound firm.
Someone from the bar threw an old sword onto the table.
"Use that," they said. "If you're going to brag, at least do it properly."
Kei took the sword.
It was heavy.
Heavier than he expected.
Do they always weigh this much…?
The mercenary drew his own sword calmly.
"Relax, I won't kill you," he said. "I'll just show you where you stand."
---
The fight
"I-I'm going to attack!" Kei shouted, raising the sword clumsily.
He ran forward.
Wrong.
Too straight.
Too obvious.
The mercenary stepped aside and hit Kei's arm with the pommel.
"Gah!"
The sword fell to the ground with a dull thud.
Kei stepped back, shaking his hand.
It hurts! Why does it hurt so much!?
"Pick it up," said the man.
Kei bent down hastily.
Mistake.
A direct kick to the stomach stole his breath.
"Ugh…!"
A bit of blood left his mouth.
He fell to his knees.
The mercenary didn't let him breathe. He grabbed him by the collar and threw him against a table. The wood creaked.
"Listen carefully," he said in a low voice. "It doesn't matter what you think you are."
Kei tried to get up, staggering. He grabbed the sword with both hands, lifting it like a stick.
"Don't… underestimate me!" he shouted, attacking without technique.
The sword was easily deflected.
A strike to the leg.
Kei hit the ground.
"Agh!"
The mercenary placed his foot on Kei's chest, pointing his sword at his neck.
Silence.
"You don't know how to use a sword. —You don't know how to fight. —And you're not special."
He removed his foot.
"Get up when you understand that."
The man sheathed his sword and returned to his seat as if nothing had happened.
After the fight,
Kei remained on the ground, breathing heavily.
Everything hurt.
His chest.
His stomach.
His pride.
The laughter wasn't cruel.
It was worse.
Indifferent.
"…The chosen one…"
He gritted his teeth.
"I'm… just a human."
And for the first time since arriving in this world…
He couldn't convince himself otherwise.
Kei stayed still for a moment longer, listening to the tavern's murmurs, the muted conversations resuming their normal rhythm as if he didn't exist.
The sound of clinking glasses and dragging chairs hurt almost painfully; it reminded him how insignificant he felt.
He tried to get up, but his arm trembled, remembering he didn't even know how to hold the sword properly.
"Not even… I can… defend myself," he thought, gripping the hilt tightly. "And I… thought I was special…"
He leaned against the bar, watching the people around: some mercenaries still smirked quietly, others barely glanced at him. None seemed to care about his fall. None lifted him up as the "chosen one."
"So this is… reality," Kei whispered, in a voice that didn't quite feel like his own. "No titles, no bright lights telling me I'm important… just this."
A black cat jumped agilely onto one of the nearby tables, staring at Kei with curiosity. The little animal seemed braver than he was.
"Even a cat seems braver than me…" he thought, and for the first time, he couldn't fake a smile.
He sat on the floor, leaning his back against the damp wall, closing his eyes.
"What do I do now?" he asked himself, without a clear answer.
The warmth of the place, the smells of wood and beer, the laughter, all surrounded him, but he couldn't be distracted. The defeat burned inside him, mixed with something deeper: a feeling of forced humility he didn't know how to handle.
"This… this isn't a game," he whispered finally, admitting something he had never allowed himself before. "I'm… just a human."
And with that thought, Kei understood for the first time that to survive in this world, he would have to truly learn, from scratch.
Kei stayed on the floor a few more seconds, breathing heavily.
Every inhale reminded him that his body was only human; fragile, limited, incapable of holding the fantasies his mind had built.
"So… this is reality," he whispered to himself. "No shortcuts, no powers telling me what to do… just me."
He forced himself to stand, pushing with his hands on the ground. The city streets seemed distant and enormous, and the market noise reached him from a nearby alley. For the first time, Kei realized how small he was compared to it all.
"Ha… ha… this can't be all, right? I must be special… something must give me an advantage," he thought, trying to fake confidence, but his voice sounded weak even to him.
He staggered toward the main street, observing his surroundings. Merchants shouted their offers, children ran between pedestrians' legs, and a cart loaded with barrels passed close by. Kei jumped aside, almost falling again.
"This… this isn't like in adventure books…" he murmured, frustrated. "And yet… I have to learn."
An old woman watched him pass from her shop entrance, raising an eyebrow:
"Are you new here, young man?" she said, with a firm but curious voice.
"Uh… yes… I'm… a visitor," Kei said, trying to sound confident. "The chosen one."
The woman stared at him silently for a moment, then returned to her bakery, as if nothing had happened. Kei frowned, feeling his pretended superiority deflate with every indifferent gesture of others.
He entered the market, more aware than ever of the sounds, smells, and movements around him: the creak of a cart wheel, the aroma of freshly baked bread, the wind moving fabrics and banners. Everything seemed too real to control.
"All right… I have to pay attention… learn fast… and stop thinking I'm special just because someone brought me here," he thought, clenching his fists.
Finally, he stopped by a fountain, looking at his reflection in the water. The bruises on his face, the dirty clothes, the hunched posture… all reminded him that he was a human like any other.
"But… I can't give up," he said firmly. "At least… not yet. Not while there's a path to grow…"
With that, Kei took a deep breath, straightened up, and began walking through the city again, determined to face whatever came, even though every step reminded him how far he was from being "the chosen one."
As Kei continued walking through some villages, night had already begun. Realizing this, Kei lay down inside an abandoned house.
"So… is this going to be my life?" he murmured, a tear rolling down his cheek.
"No! If the world doesn't consider me the chosen one… then I will become the chosen one myself!" he said, clenching his hand so hard his nails left marks.
Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation.
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