Arthur sat on a weathered tree trunk, its surface cloaked in a cold, velvety layer of damp moss. The first threads of dawn crept cautiously through the dense branches—but this was no sun that brought warmth. It was pale and cold, as if even light itself feared touching this forest.
Silence enveloped the place—a silence that was "watchful." Not the quiet of life's absence, but the hush of something holding its breath, waiting for prey.
Yet Arthur remained calm.
It wasn't the calm of the brave, but the calm of those who had lost so much that death no longer held any terror for them. He slowly shifted his gaze, watching the mist slither between the trees like the breath of a living creature, then broke the silence with a voice that did not waver:
"Why are we here?"
He paused for a second, then added in a dry, pragmatic tone:
"Wouldn't it be better to start changing my miserable life right away? I know this world's economy, the merchant families, even the coming crises. A few simple investments at the right time would grant me enough wealth for ten lifetimes."
A brief silence followed, then the System spoke—this time with less sarcasm and more weight:
[That's correct… mathematically speaking.]
The System paused, then continued:
[But if you do that now, we'll lose a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity… one that can't be bought with gold.]
Arthur exhaled slowly, his eyes tracking a crow flying into the distance.
"Let me guess… someone's destiny?"
[Exactly.]
Arthur's eyes narrowed as he lifted his head. "You know I don't believe in romantic notions of fate, and I don't care about saving heroes."
[I know… and that's precisely why this opportunity matters to us. This isn't about heroism—it's about the power you'll gain from this destiny.]
Arthur cast a glance toward the dark forest ahead. "Speak… before you throw me into another mess."
Suddenly, the System's tone shifted into an oddly cheerful, celebratory enthusiasm that clashed with the forest's stillness:
[At your command, Lord Arthur! I'll astonish you with what I've got!]
Arthur gritted his teeth. "Talk quickly… your noise gives me a headache."
[Alright, no drama. First: you're now in the 'Forest of Silence,' east of the continent of Lorath. A classic starting point in the game. Weak monsters, rare resources… perfect beginner training grounds.]
Arthur made no comment, only asked coldly: "And what about this body? I don't just feel weak—I feel like I'm trapped inside it."
At that moment, a faint echo resonated—like the turning of pages in an ancient book—and a translucent window flickered into view before his eyes, its edges unstable:
[Name]: Arthur Gray [Mike]
[Age]: 13 years
[Rank]: Commoner — Unclassified
[Race]: Human ???? [Undefined Error]
[Origin]: Unknown?
[Physical Condition]: Weak — Stable
[Curses]: 5 unknown curses
[Compatibility]: Body integration rate: 48.8%
[Warning]: Incomplete integration — risk of future instability
[Traits]:
• Emotional coldness (Passive)
• High intelligence
• Combat analysis ability
• Extremely high mental resistance
[Attributes]:
• Strength: 3.67%
• Endurance: 7.00%
• Intelligence: 50.89%
• Mana: 0.98% (Very weak)
• Charisma: 73.98%
Arthur stared at the window for several seconds. He felt no shock—only disgust.
"This body is annoyingly weak."
The System chuckled lightly:
[That's how legends always begin! Poor, orphaned, weak… then they become legends. But don't worry—at least you're handsome. That's power in itself.]
Arthur raised his eyes toward the sky barely visible through the branches. "You're truly an idiot." Then, coldly: "But I wonder… how did the original owner of this body survive in the story?"
The System abruptly stopped laughing. An odd silence fell for a second, then it replied in a detached, indifferent tone—as if reading a weather report:
[Oh, him? He didn't survive. In fact, he died trying to convince an oak tree it was his 'long-lost mother' until he withered away from thirst.]
Arthur froze. He blinked slowly, struggling to process the absurdity he'd just heard. "What?"
But the System gave him no chance to respond, continuing instead in a suddenly serious, surprising tone:
[But jokes aside… you possess something no one else in this world has.]
Arthur turned slowly. "Go on."
[A unique skill. A gift granted only to those who come from outside this world.]
Another window appeared before him:
[Unique Skill: Insight Eye — Level 1]
Description:
Analysis and possible event paths.
Additional Functions:
• Weak point detection
• Ability analysis
(Unlocks direct death-danger prediction at Level 5)
Note:
This skill can evolve and unlock additional functions later.
Arthur's eyes gleamed for a moment. "This… might be useful."
He straightened up, brushing dirt off his tattered clothes. Despite his frail body, his posture radiated an authority unfitting for a thirteen-year-old—as if sheer will alone kept his bones from collapsing.
"If we're at the beginning of the game… that means nothing has happened yet. The original heroes are still children, and the betrayals that will shatter kingdoms haven't begun."
He closed his eyes, picturing the faces of those who would become tyrants and those who would die as victims of wrong choices.
"I'll rewrite the script," he murmured, his voice low as the rustle of snakes.
[Where shall we head first?] the System asked eagerly.
Arthur answered with deadly certainty:
"To the Academy. Where everything begins… and where everything ends."
He looked down at his frail palm and clenched it tightly.
"Since enrollment starts at age sixteen, I have three years. Three years to transform this broken body into something this world cannot ignore."
Silence returned to the forest—but this time, it seemed as though the forest itself feared him.
[Very good, Arthur Gray… let's see how fate dares stand in your way.]
And so, with the first true thread of sunlight, the "nobody" began his journey—not to become a hero, but to become this world's new author.