"Hey! Sylvan!"
"Huh?"
My eyes snapped open.
…No.
Not again.
(Huh? Who's this?)
A kid.
Brown hair. Loud voice. Smug grin.
Ah.
Right.
I remember him.
My classmate.
Primary school.
The one who liked to bully me.
(Why am I in this scenario again?)
I already knew how this played out.
This was the day he wanted to beat me up for standing up for myself after weeks of constant provocation.
Every single day.
Crumpled paper thrown at my back.
Whispers.
Snickering.
And whenever I turned around.
"What? Who did it?"
Then laughter. Always laughter.
I knew it was them. And I knew he was the most suspicious one.
So I snapped.
I challenged him to a fist fight.
"What are you still standing there? Are you gay?"
(…And this is where it started.)
I remembered how nervous I was.
My heart was beating so loudly I thought everyone around could hear it. Part of me wanted to take it back. Pretend I didn't say anything. Walk away.
But that word…
It irritated me more than anything.
Not because I hated gays.
But because I hated being called that mocked especially with my pride on the line.
And there were so many people watching.
I couldn't back down anymore.
"I'll give you the first move," he said, smirking.
Still provoking me.
Then…
My punch landed on his face.
It hurt.
But he was bigger than me, so it barely fazed him.
Then he punched back.
The thing about people who don't know how to fight is that their punches are predictable.
Especially when adrenaline is pumping.
I tried to dodge, but I wasn't experienced either.
So I ducked slightly.
The hardest part of the head is the forehead.
If I couldn't dodge, I might as well hurt his hand.
His fist hit my forehead.
(Hurts, doesn't it?)
He punched again.
This time, I reacted.
I raised my elbow and met his fist with it.
I clearly remember his face twisting in pain.
My turn.
I threw a counterpunch but he dodged.
(Oh shit.)
I shifted immediately, turning the motion into a choke hold. My other hand started punching him repeatedly.
Then…
"Enough!"
A teacher.
The memory shattered.
"Oh… this dream again."
I stared at the ceiling, breathing slowly.
It had already become a habit.
Waking up at the break of dawn.
My body felt heavy.
Sore.
The dull pain from yesterday's fight with the goblin warrior still lingered in my muscles.
"…That thing really messed me up," I muttered.
I sat up slowly and rolled my shoulders.
Still hurts.
But not the kind that keeps me bedridden.
Maybe I should rest today.
No adventuring.
Just recovery.
…That lasted exactly five seconds.
I sighed and got out of bed.
"Light exercise," I said to myself. "Just light."
The morning air was cool.
Quiet.
I started with simple stretches arms, legs, back. Slow movements. Careful not to strain anything.
Then jogging.
One lap around the inn.
Then another.
My breathing steadied.
Pain faded into the background.
After that, I practiced mana circulation.
No spells.
Just flow.
Guiding mana through my body, feeling how it moved, where it resisted, where it flowed smoothly.
The pathways still felt slightly irritated.
Overuse.
Not dangerous but a warning.
"…Control really is everything," I muttered.
After resting a bit, I moved on to spell practice.
Water Ball.
One formed easily.
Then another.
Then two at once.
Stable.
Crystal Needle next.
I formed five.
Then ten.
The mana consumption was minimal, but I focused on precision shape, density, uniformity.
No rushing.
No forcing.
Crystal Spear?
…Not today.
I wasn't stupid.
By the time I finished, sweat soaked my clothes.
But my mind felt clearer.
Sharper.
Satisfied.
After washing up and changing, I headed toward the Adventurer's Guild.
The building stood tall and familiar, bustling with activity even this early. Adventurers came and went, some chatting loudly, others nursing drinks despite the hour.
Same as always.
I walked up to the reception counter and placed the proof of subjugation down carefully.
"Quest submission," I said calmly.
The receptionist looked down.
Then blinked.
Then looked back up at me.
Then down again.
"…Goblin subjugation?" she asked.
"Yes."
"…Boss-class?"
"Yes."
She stared at me.
I stared back.
(This is where she calls the guards, right?)
She slowly picked up the documents and examined them again.
"You did this… alone?"
"…Yes?"
Her gaze flicked to my body.
Then my face.
Then back to the proof.
I resisted the urge to check if I still had goblin blood on me.
"…Please wait," she said.
She disappeared into the back.
(I knew it.)
I sighed internally.
This was a mistake. I should've rested another day. Or submitted it anonymously. Or pretended I had a party.
A few tense moments later, she returned.
"Everything checks out," she said. "Here's your reward."
She slid a pouch across the counter.
I accepted it quietly.
No applause.
No shouting.
No dramatic reaction.
Just a few glances from nearby adventurers.
…Which somehow felt worse.
(Why are they looking at me like that?)
I was just about to leave when
"Sylvan."
I stopped.
The voice was calm, but firm.
I turned.
Two women were standing a few steps away from me.
One wore light leather armor marked with healing runes, a staff resting against her shoulder. Soft features, tired eyes but sharp. A healer.
The other had short red hair and carried a staff strapped to her back, the tip scorched and cracked from repeated use. Her mana felt… unstable, but strong.
Fire mage.
Intermediate.
(No silent casting though.)
That one I was sure of.
"…You're the one who submitted the goblin subjugation quest, right?" the fire mage asked.
"…Yes?"
The healer stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"Thank you."
I froze.
"…Huh?"
She straightened and looked me directly in the eyes.
"My name is Lucy. I'm a healer."
The fire mage crossed her arms. "Rose. Fire mage."
Then Lucy continued.
"That goblin warrior you killed… that was our target."
I blinked.
Oh.
So that's why.
Lucy clenched her staff slightly.
"We're a D-rank team. We accepted the subjugation quest together."
Rose clicked her tongue. "We underestimated it."
Her tone was blunt, but there was no bitterness in it just honesty.
"The smaller goblins were manageable," Lucy said. "But when the leader appeared…"
She hesitated.
"We barely escaped."
Silence followed.
I suddenly felt a lot of eyes on us.
(…So that's the story everyone knows.)
Rose exhaled sharply. "If you hadn't finished it, that thing would've recovered. Or moved. Or worse led another raid."
She looked away.
"So yeah. You saved us."
Lucy bowed again, deeper this time.
"…Please accept this."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a folded cloth pouch.
No.
Not a pouch.
A bag.
The moment she held it out, I felt it.
Compressed mana.
Storage magic.
My eyes widened slightly before I could stop myself.
"This is a storage bag," Lucy said. "Half a cubic meter."
I stared.
Half a cubic meter.
That wasn't small.
"…This is expensive," I said slowly.
Rose snorted. "Worth at least fifty gold."
(I knew it.)
I hesitated.
"I can't just.."
"It's not charity," Lucy interrupted gently. "It's thanks."
Rose nodded. "And apology."
They both looked serious.
No hesitation.
No regret.
"…Alright," I said finally, accepting it carefully. "Thank you."
Lucy smiled in relief.
Rose smirked. "Try not to die."
"…I'll do my best."
They turned and walked away, blending back into the crowd.
I looked down at the storage bag in my hand.
Then back at the guild hall.
"…So that's why they were staring."
I quietly attached the bag to my belt and left.
With the pouch safely tucked away, my next destination was obvious.
The library.
The building stood quietly away from the guild's noise, stone walls worn smooth by time. Large windows let sunlight spill across the steps, illuminating rows of bookshelves visible inside.
The air changed the moment I stepped in.
Cool.
Still.
Smelling faintly of paper and ink.
My footsteps echoed softly against the floor as I walked deeper inside.
Rows upon rows of books.
Knowledge.
Answers.
And probably more questions.
I exhaled slowly.
"…Alright."
Time to decide.
Sell the mana core.
Or use it.
I exhaled slowly and stepped further inside.
The deeper sections of the library were quieter. Fewer footsteps. Fewer wandering eyes. The kind of silence that made even breathing feel loud.
Shelves rose around me, packed tightly with books of varying size and age. Some looked well-maintained. Others were worn, their spines faded from countless hands.
Monster ecology.
Magical materials.
Mana theory.
My eyes skimmed the titles as I walked.
I stopped in front of the reception desk.
"I'm looking for a book," I said.
One specifically.
Something about monster mana cores.
The request earned me a brief pause nothing dramatic, just enough to tell me it wasn't a common topic for casual readers.
A few moments later, a book was placed in front of me.
Thin.
Older than most.
The cover was plain, the title embossed faintly:
Monster Mana Cores and Their Applications
I stared at it for a second.
"…This one," I said.
The book was opened briefly, checked, then closed again.
"Rental," I added.
I wasn't planning to read it here.
I wanted time.
Quiet.
Space to think.
The process was quick. A small fee paid. A return date noted.
The book was slid toward me.
I picked it up carefully.
It felt heavier than it looked.
Not physically.
Mentally.
I tucked it under my arm and turned away from the desk, moving toward an empty reading table near the window. Sunlight filtered in softly, illuminating floating dust motes in the air.
I sat down.
For a few seconds, I didn't open the book.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the wrapped mana core instead, placing it beside the book.
Low Grade Mana Core.
Dull. Cloudy. Quietly pulsing.
Two choices.
Money.
Or growth.
I rested my chin on my hand and stared at both.
"…I should read first," I muttered.
Only an idiot would decide something like this without understanding what they were holding.
I opened the book.
And began to read.