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The Book of Heroes unfolded again within his mind, and the follow-up task in the Beginning series slowly appeared.
"Find better, stable food and shelter, and make a companion you can truly open your heart to?"
Reon silently read through the new objective. The conditions were still simple on paper, clearly just an extension of the previous trial, but in his current situation, they might as well have been impossible.
He shook his head and turned his attention back to the reward he had just received.
The dark gold card floated quietly in his consciousness, giving off a faint, pulsing glow.
A gentle current of warmth flowed steadily from it, blending with the energy from the food he had just eaten and slowly driving the cold and exhaustion from his body.
In only a few seconds, the leaden heaviness weighing him down had eased noticeably. At the very least, he no longer felt like standing up too quickly would send him crashing back into darkness.
This really is incredible.
He praised it inwardly, then casually tugged his sleeve lower to cover his wrist. A moment later, at a silent summons in his mind, something warm and smooth settled into his palm.
The card was neither metal nor wood. It felt more like polished jade, warm to the touch.
Reon kept it hidden inside his sleeve and gently ran his fingers over it. As he did, a strange sense of connection rose within him.
He understood instinctively that the card was linked to the Heroic Spirit the Book of Heroes had just summoned, the one whose true name was still concealed.
Through it, he could borrow a portion of that Heroic Spirit's power.
For example... a Noble Phantasm.
As that realization took hold, more knowledge about Heroic Spirits flowed into his mind.
Heroic Spirits were beings elevated from legend and folklore, figures of unimaginable power by ordinary standards.
Their Noble Phantasms were crystallized embodiments of their greatest deeds, fantasy given form, the ultimate expression of who they were.
And now, if he wished, he could manifest one of those legendary armaments through the card and wield it himself.
The reward given by the Book of Heroes was absurdly generous. Reon couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from lifting.
"That vision of the snowy mountain must have something to do with this Heroic Spirit's identity... I wonder what kind of Noble Phantasm I can call forth."
The temptation gnawed at him like a child itching to unwrap a new toy.
But after glancing at the others scattered around the cell, some sitting, some lying down, Reon suppressed the urge. There would be time to test it later.
Just then, he noticed an elderly man with graying hair watching him from not far away. Their eyes met, and the old man smiled kindly.
"Was it good?"
Reon blinked, then realized he meant the bread from earlier. He grinned back.
"Cold, hard, and nearly tried to choke me to death But... to me, it was the best meal I'd had in my life."
"Hah... To be honest, I always thought the stuff tasted awful too."
The old man looked like he'd found a kindred spirit. Even the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes relaxed.
"Hey, that food was something Grandpa Rob saved with a lot of effort. You'd better thank him properly."
With the overseer gone, the mood in the cell had loosened considerably. Hugh wandered over like they were already old friends and nudged Reon with his elbow.
Reon turned to look at the old man. His upper body was bare, his frame gaunt, every rib sharply visible beneath his skin. The smile faded from Reon's face, and he nodded seriously.
"I mean it, I'm truly grateful."
He answered so earnestly that Hugh looked awkward instead, scratching his head as he muttered, "Right... well, you don't have to be that serious. I get it."
"It's fine." Rob waved a hand, his smile calm and easy. "I'm old, My appetite isn't what it used to be. It was nothing. Don't dwell on it."
"Grandpa Rob's one of the veterans here. A lot of people have been helped by him. When he was younger, he was a wizard from one of the kingdom's top guilds."
Having collected himself, Jellal added the explanation from the side.
"A wizard?" Reon's eyes lit up, and he leaned forward without meaning to. "Sir, you can use magic?"
"Of course I can."
Rob straightened proudly and turned to show the emblem branded on his back. On his thin frame was the mark of a strange, distinctive creature.
"I was a Fairy Tail wizard, How could I not know magic?"
But almost immediately, his tone dropped, tinged with loneliness.
"Though... these days I don't have any magic power left. Hard to proudly call myself one of Fairy Tail anymore."
Reon stared at the guild mark. It felt strangely familiar, like he'd seen it somewhere before, but he couldn't place it.
He decided not to overthink it and looked back at the old man with renewed expectation.
"Then... could you teach me magic?"
"Magic isn't something you just pick up that easily." Rob shook his head.
"Without magic books and proper training, learning magic in a place like this is nearly impossible. Unless you're one of those rare prodigies who awaken it naturally... for everyone else, it simply won't happen."
"I see..."
Reon lowered his head.
Anyone would feel disappointed. He had finally come into contact with this world's supernatural system, only to be told he couldn't learn it.
But then another thought occurred to him. The Heroic Spirit card he had just obtained was basically another kind of magic, wasn't it? That made the disappointment ease a little.
"As if some natural-born genius would get dragged here in the first place," Hugh cut in, then his expression shifted into something more worried. "Forget magic for now. With how scrawny you are, the real question is whether you'll even survive tomorrow's labor. The overseers won't be gentle with those whips."
He wasn't exaggerating, People died on the work site every day, either from exhaustion or from angering the overseers.
"I'll do my best."
"Yeah, well, I'll keep an eye on you when the time comes."
Hugh slapped his chest with easy confidence. This blunt, straightforward newcomer was exactly the kind of person he liked.
Reon looked at Hugh, who wasn't even as tall as he was, and had to suppress a laugh. Still, he nodded seriously.
"Thanks."
"Don't attract the overseers' attention. And if things get bad, come to me."
Jellal gave the warning with a grave expression, clearly meaning every word. The workload was no joke.
"Got it! I won't try to act tough."
Reon wasn't the type to stand on pride, He had the Book of Heroes now, but he still didn't fully understand what it could do. There was no reason to force anything.
After that, Jellal introduced him to two other close companions: Wally, nicknamed Mad Dog, and the youngest child in the cell, Millianna.
Reon chatted with them for a bit and was surprised to find that, despite living in a prison, everyone was simple and kindhearted. Being around them felt unexpectedly easy.
During the conversation, he also learned something important. In this tower, aside from the dark wizards who ruled over the place, not a single slave could use magic.
That only made him realize even more just how extraordinary the Book of Heroes was. It could casually hand him a class card with power on par with magic.
Maybe the day's labor had drained everyone dry, because before long people started dropping off to sleep one after another. Soon the cell was filled with nothing but uneven breathing.
Reon had wanted to ask for more information about the place, but seeing how exhausted everyone was, he understood the importance of rest. Their warnings earlier had not been jokes.
He lay down gently on the straw mat, closed his eyes, and planned to find a chance tomorrow to test the Heroic Spirit card he'd acquired.
As sleep crept over him, he saw two armies locked in battle across a desolate wasteland for decades, as if the war would never end. He saw ordinary people struggling to survive amid iron and fire. He saw hope itself forged into a bow and a single arrow.
He saw someone powerful place them into a man's hands.
And at the end, he saw that snowy mountain again. The man, carrying bow and arrow on his back, began an endless climb into the wind and snow.
...
...
A shrill whistle stabbed through Reon's ears like a chisel, dragging him violently out of sleep.
He jerked awake, his eyes still heavy with the lingering weight of what he had seen, as though he hadn't fully returned from that story yet.
"Those images... were they part of that Heroic Spirit's past?"
He stared at the card in his mind, suspicion and wonder tangling together.
As a history major, he was naturally captivated by scenes of that scale, scenes that carried the feel of epic legend.
They stirred both curiosity and awe in him, and only made him more invested in the unknown Heroic Spirit's identity.
"The class is Archer... one of the most widely known types of heroic figures..."
Reon absently rubbed his chin.
The scenes from the dream did seem to vaguely match a legend he knew, but was that dream showing something from Earth's history, or a projection from another world? He didn't dare jump to conclusions.
"Forget it... I'll keep watching."
Thoughtful, Reon got to his feet. By now, he no longer resisted those uninvited visions. In fact, he had started looking forward to the next one.
"Next time, I'll definitely figure out who this Heroic Spirit is."
"It's time to move."
Jellal, already awake, gave him a light shove and urged him in a low voice.
Reon snapped back to the present at once. Looking around, he saw that everyone else had already risen in silence and formed into orderly lines with calm efficiency.
"Move! Move! You filthy, useless swine."
Outside the bars, several long-robed overseers with vicious expressions barked at them while cracking their whips in the air.
He noticed that everyone kept their heads lowered, carefully avoiding any eye contact with the overseers.
Don't attract the overseers' attention.
Remembering Jellal's warning, Reon quickly copied the others, lowering his head and blending naturally into the line.
The group began to move, shackles rattling against each other with every step. The instant they left the prison block, the harsh sunlight made him narrow his eyes on reflex.
Once his eyes adjusted, the sight before him stole his breath.
It was a tower.
A colossal stone tower so enormous it seemed to rise straight into the sky.
Its body was built from rough, dark blocks of stone and had already reached a staggering height. Countless tiny human figures swarmed across its surface and the scaffolding around it like ants.
The clang of hammering, the grinding roar of stone, the curses of overseers, and the snap of whips all blended together into a deafening assault.
"So this is... the Tower of Heaven we're being forced to build?"
Reon muttered the words, remembering what he had heard in last night's conversation.
According to the others, this place was being built by the dark magic cult as part of the forbidden R-System, a ritual meant to resurrect the dark mage they worshipped.
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