Darkness. Pain. Cold. It's so cold. The wounds... he could feel himself dying, bleeding out. It was terrifying. What awaited him after this? But he could feel it. Something tugging at him.
Something... is pulling him. Away.
A bright light of kaleidoscopes, moving faster than anything he could comprehend, enveloped him. He felt himself being moved.
Then, suddenly, his consciousness returned. He could feel himself breathing again. The cold and weakness were gone. How? What had happened?
As his focus sharpened and slowly returned, his gaze fell upon the figures before him. The room was dim, but he could make out several people clad in intricate white robes. Who were they?
Before a single coherent thought could form, he felt the air stir to his left.
Wind? No—it was movement. Something had passed by with such speed it left only a phantom breeze in its wake. Instinctively, he whipped his head around to see what the hell could move that fast.
What he saw was something straight out of a horror movie. A man with blood-red markings around his eyes was surrounded by floating blood that compressed itself with such force that heat shimmered in the air above it. Ren couldn't help but tense, his fist clenching unconsciously. Only then did he realize he was holding a sword—a blue blade with a jewel embedded in the center of its hilt.
He looked back at the man and saw that there were now two marble-sized orbs of blood floating near him, with a larger, shifting mass of it swirling around his body as if it was protecting him.
The man was shouting something at him. At him? No, not at him, but at the robed figures. Yet Ren couldn't make out the words over the roar of his own pulse in his ears. His face was pale, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. Then, a voice from beside him called out, a bit too casual and firm. It seemed to work; the man's furious focus shifted.
The man commanded the robed figures to lead on—to the King, apparently. What in the hell is happening? A fresh wave of chills gripped Ren as the man stated, coldly, that any suspicious action would be met with death. Though the threat wasn't aimed directly at him, he felt its universal truth. In this man's eyes, he would die all the same if he stepped out of line.
So he walked, led by the robed figures with the threatening man following close behind. It felt like marching with a gun pressed to the back of his skull. He moved quietly, but at least the sheer terror had receded enough for a sliver of thought to return.
His gaze caught on a flicker in the edge of his sight—a translucent, blue-hued icon. His breath hitched. He knew that shape. It was burned into his memory from countless hours playing Brave Star Online. He forced his expression to remain blank, a mask over the shock thrumming beneath his skin.
Desperate, he sent a silent prayer into the void. Let this be real. Focusing all his intent on the icon, he mentally commanded: Status.
A familiar window materialized in his mind's eye:
Ren Amaki
Class: Sword Hero Lv1
Equipment:
• Small Sword (Legendary Weapon)
• Other world Clothes
Skill: None
Magic: None
It worked. A fierce, private triumph flared within him. He allowed himself the smallest of smiles, but swiftly concealed it, terrified the man behind him might notice. He still didn't understand what was happening, but one thing was brutally clear: at Level 1 with these pitiful stats, he stood absolutely no chance against that monster.
The procession led him through halls and corridors that belonged to a classic medieval fantasy castle. After an agonizingly long walk, they arrived at a grand audience room. On the throne sat an old man, white-haired and bearded. The King.
A palpable, dangerous tension stretched between the monarch and the blood marked man. Ren watched, barely breathing, until some form of agreement was grudgingly struck. The relief was immediate. Honestly, if they hadn't, Ren would have bolted from the room right then and there.
In the aftermath, the explanations began. The reality of his situation solidified with every word. He had been summoned. He was the Sword Hero. The king's lecture on the Waves and this world's lore, combined with the irrefutable evidence of his game-like status screen, formed an undeniable conclusion. This was Brave Star Online. The world of his favorite game was now his reality.
The other man's refusal to become the Bow Hero came as no shock; his lack of enthusiasm had been obvious from the start. But that refusal created an opportunity. Now, it was Ren's turn to act.
Brave Star Online. This was his domain. He knew this world intimately like the back of his hands. He understood its mechanics, its hidden paths to power, the exact ways to outpace every other player. Here was his chance to grind, to optimize, to become powerful enough to eclipse even that terrifying man.
With newfound boldness, Ren addressed the King. He stated flatly that he would not be conscripted into service without compensation. The King assured him that rewards and aid were part of the summoning covenant. A spike of relief—it's just like the game—was swiftly followed by crushing despair as the King continued: there was no return. Not until the Waves were vanquished. And the only way to summon a replacement Hero… was for the current ones to perish.
The words landed like a physical blow. Ren's brief surge of triumph evaporated, leaving a hollow, cold weight in his gut. That means no return until either the waves is finished or he's dead. Trapped. This is permadeath run with no logout button. The relief he'd felt a second ago now tasted like ash. His meta-knowledge was still an advantage, but its value had just skyrocketed alongside the stakes.
One mistake, one failed quest, and it wouldn't be a game over screen—it would be a real end.
But he was summoned. He has the Legendary Sword. This is his story. In Brave Star Online, the hero's journey was a guaranteed path to victory. Surely, the same rule applied here. The universe wouldn't bring him this far just to let him die.
Then why give the Bow that power? Why create a party member who could obliterate the supposed "main character" before the tutorial ended?
The classic isekai template didn't fit. Unless... it's not a solo run. He wasn't the protagonist; he was a protagonist. One of four. They weren't supporting cast for his story like he thought. Now it seems more likely that they were the leads of their own simultaneous stories, each with their own legendary weapon. They are a party of equal.
Though, it quickly became apparent that the Bow Hero was completely lost, with zero understanding of the world they were in. A flicker of condescending pride warmed Ren's chest—he knew so much more—but it was instantly extinguished by the visceral recall of the man's terrifying aura, the raw, bloody pressure that had frozen him in place.
The thought was tempting: leave the man in the dark. Focus solely on his own survival and power leveling. Yet, his gamer's instinct overruled the spite. In every MMO he'd ever played, a clueless player dragging the party down was a liability that got everyone killed. Survival demanded cohesion. Swallowing his reluctance, Ren turned to the other Hero and offered his help, the offer of aid feeling more like a strategic necessity than kindness.
Finally, the king asked for their names. A bit late for introductions, Ren thought, but he shrugged it off. At least he now had names for the faces: the spear-user, Motoyasu; the quiet one with shield, Naofumi; and the source of his earlier terror, Noritoshi.
Clan? Sorcerer? The terms were archaic, bizarre. But they sparked a connection. Noritoshi had to be from one of those families—the kind that preserved old shrines and rituals. It made a twisted kind of sense. In Ren's world, the only people who carried that same aura of otherworldly intensity and oddness were the ones steeped in tradition. He knew it firsthand.
His best friend was exactly like that.
With the crushing pressure of imminent death lifted, his mind began to work properly. His gaze drifted back to Noritoshi. That blood manipulation… it shouldn't be possible at Level 1.
How had he accessed it? The mystery was filed under 'critical intel' in his mind.
When the king told them to examine their statuses, the other three just looked confused. Seeing his comrade like this, he suppressed the feeling of superiority and coolness, focusing instead on maintaining his stoic facade. Then, he explained about the interface icon.
Noritoshi's response was immediate and dismissive: he saw nothing until Ren described it.
The sense of superiority he felt was popped like a balloon and replaced by curiosity.
Interesting. It seemed Noritoshi's user interface was different from his own. Could that be the reason he possessed such a powerful skill from the very start?
A new possibility struck him: the others might have unique advantages as well. Perhaps they had each been given a different leg up. He had his meta-knowledge—an insight no one else seemed to share so far—and Noritoshi had his blood manipulation. What about Motoyasu and Naofumi? Had they received hidden bonuses, too?
He could figure that out later. The immediate priority was to party up with the others. At least, that was the plan—until both the King and his own status menu issued a warning that "interference" would occur if the Heroes remained too close to each other.
What a bizarre game design choice. Another major deviation from Brave Star Online. It meant he would have to search for companions alone.
A cold dread seeped in. Solo questing for companions? He was hopelessly awkward. Let's be honest—in this throne room, he was the undisputed champion of social ineptitude. His panic subsided only when the King announced that suitable companions would be provided for them. Thank god. Crisis averted.
They were led by an attendant into a spacious, high-ceilinged chamber, its stone walls softened by paintings depicting past battles and mythical beasts. Sunlight streamed in through a set of wide, arched doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the castle grounds and the city. The room was furnished for a long stay: four neatly made beds were arranged against one wall, while a sitting area of plush sofas and a high-backed chair surrounded a low central table. Upon it, a small, almost comically peaceful spread of fruits, pastries, and a jug of what looked like juice had been laid out. It was a lavish guest suite.
Truly fitting for a royal palace. Guards were posted outside the main door, and they were told to ask if they needed anything.
The atmosphere was awkward, thick with unspoken tension. But Ren didn't do or say anything to diffuse it. Not like he could even if he wanted to. Instead, he claimed one of the sofas, sinking into its cushions as he tried to get comfortable, his eyes drifting between his unlikely companions and the freedom of the balcony.
Just as the awkward silence threatened to become permanent, Noritoshi spoke. His voice was measured, cutting through the stillness like a knife.
"Everyone, I wish to apologize to all of you for my reckless behavior. And perhaps also for intimidating you."
Ren stiffened. Motoyasu's eyebrows shot up. Naofumi simply stared, his expression unreadable. The apology was so utterly unforeseen that it left them all speechless. Seeming to expect no response, Noritoshi pressed on.
"All of you are in the same situation as myself, and yet, without considering the danger my actions could have caused to you, I threatened the people that have summoned us, all in the excuse of caution and security. As a sorcerer, I'm truly ashamed of myself. Once again, I apologize."
Naofumi then responded, his tone practical and weary. "It's understandable, Noritoshi. You were suddenly kidnapped and taken to a place you've never even heard of by suspicious people in robes. I mean, even I was pretty spooked by this whole situation."
He scratched his head as if wondering what else to say. "So, uh… yeah. Basically, apology accepted. For me at least."
As if sensing the conversation would stall again, Motoyasu smoothly chimed in, his earlier tension replaced by bright, open curiosity. "Hey, since we're all talking now—Noritoshi, that power of yours is insane! The blood and everything. It was like something out of an anime. How does that even work? Is it magic, or is it, like, a genetic thing? Can you teach it?"
Now Ren was listening intently. He, too, wanted to understand Kamo Noritoshi's power—its source, its limits. And if it could be taught, all the better.
The Bow Hero said, "I am a Jujutsu Sorcerer."
That was all. He said it as if the title alone could answer every single question plaguing their minds.
Huh? Ren's thoughts hit a wall. What does that even mean? The resounding silence in the room—Motoyasu's cheerful curiosity visibly deflating, Naofumi's blank stare—signaled that the others were just as lost. "Jujutsu Sorcerer" was a label without a reference, a term that meant nothing to any of them.
Now it was Noritoshi's turn to look confused. His brow furrowed slightly, as if they'd just claimed not to know what the sky was. "You… don't know what a Jujutsu Sorcerer is?" he asked, his tone one of genuine disbelief.
A unified "No" came from the other three.
Noritoshi's confusion visibly deepened. He studied them, a new suspicion entering his gaze. "But you are all Japanese? You live in Japan?"
Again, a chorus of affirmation.
The Bow Hero fell silent for a moment, his intense eyes scanning their faces. The logical contradiction seemed to genuinely unsettle him. "How," he finally asked, his voice low and utterly perplexed, "could you possibly be from Japan and not know what a Jujutsu Sorcerer is?"
"Is it something like a trend?" Motoyasu asked.
"No," Noritoshi said. "The circumstances surrounding it is more like a calamity."
"Like a disaster?" Naofumi pressed. "A tsunami or an earthquake?"
A short, weary sigh was all Ren heard from the Bow Hero. "No. It is something that affected the entire world. How could you not know of it?"
At that moment, an epiphany struck Ren. He spoke before his mind could fully catch up.
"What if the reason we don't know…is because we're actually from different Earths?"
Silence hung in the room, thick and heavy.
"You mean, like... the multiverse? You think it is real?" Naofumi asked, his voice quiet with disbelief.
"Yes," Ren could only say. He let the word settle before continuing, his thoughts now racing into place. "Noritoshi said it affected the whole world. There's no way we wouldn't know what he's talking about… unless one of us comes from a place without the internet. Or without that particular 'calamity' at all."
Everyone seemed to consider his idea. Internally, Ren felt a spark of pride, even a flicker of smugness at having pieced it together. He kept it carefully locked behind a stoic, almost uncaring façade—a slight tilt of his chin, his gaze distant, as if the monumental implication were merely a logical footnote.
Naofumi cut through the speculation with a direct question. "Alright, let's start simple. What year did each of you come from?"
"I'm from 2022," Motoyasu offered first, shrugging.
"2019," Naofumi said flatly.
All eyes turned to Noritoshi, who seemed to weigh the question carefully before answering.
"2018."
Finally, Ren spoke. "I'm from… 2067."
A beat of stunned silence followed. Ren himself was a little surprised to hear the gap laid out so plainly. His world was decades ahead.
"Whoa, seriously?" Motoyasu whistled, leaning forward. "So you're from, like, the future? Do you have flying cars?"
"Not like in the old movies," Ren replied, his analytical mind taking over. "But the technology level is… significantly more advanced if compared to a few decades before. For example," he continued, seeing their curious expressions, "we have fully immersive VR. Not just headsets, but systems that let you experience an entire virtual world with all five senses. It's indistinguishable from reality."
He looked at their blank faces and knew the answer before they spoke.
Motoyasu and Naofumi shook their head in amazement. Noritoshi's expression remained unreadable, but the slight tilt of his head indicated this was entirely new information.
"Nothing like that exists for me," Naofumi confirmed, voicing what was now obvious. "Not even close."
They spent the next while comparing their worlds in more detail. Many major historical events had occurred—world wars, the rise and fall of empires—but the specifics, the dates, and the key players often diverged in unsettling ways. The results were similar, yet the paths were different.
Until that moment, a part of them had clung to the idea that they were simply from different points on the same timeline. But the accumulating evidence—the technological chasm Ren described, the alternate histories. And now, Norithosi's account of his world's main divergent point that none others seems to have possessed.
After a heavy silence, Noritoshi began to explain, his voice level and precise. "In my world, there is an energy that all humans naturally emit—all except for a very few. It is called Cursed Energy. As the name suggests, it originates from negative emotions: fear, hatred, regret."
Cursed Energy. Ren had already predicted something along those lines the moment the multiverse theory was confirmed. A unique power source native to Noritoshi's Earth. Yet, a stubborn hope still flickered in his chest. Unique doesn't mean untransferable. If it's a fundamental energy there, maybe the rules here are different.
"Can anyone use it?" Motoyasu asked, leaning forward with interest.
"No," Noritoshi replied. "Only a select few are born with the innate ability to perceive and utilize it. The vast majority of people live and die without ever realizing they are producing it at all. It simply... lingers, and takes shape."
"Shapes?" Naofumi echoed, a wary edge in his voice.
"Yes," Noritoshi said, his gaze turning inward for a moment. "That is the source of the calamity I mentioned. That energy, when left to pool and fester, can give birth to Curses." He paused, then continued as if cataloging facts. "Though Cursed Energy itself can be utilized in many ways. It can enhance physical capability. With significant skill, it can be shaped and expelled directly as an attack, though that is difficult. My own technique, which allows me to manipulate blood, is simply one specialized application of this principle."
It was then that Motoyasu voiced the question that had been living rent-free in Ren's mind since the throne room. "What about that scary aura you emitted when we were first summoned? That pressure… was that Cursed Energy, too?"
Noritoshi's sharp gaze settled on him, analytical and unblinking. "Yes. A sufficient concentration exerts a palpable pressure. For non-sorcerers, it triggers a primal fear—a warning that you are in the presence of something innately hostile." His eyes then swept over Naofumi and finally Ren, lingering. "Your reaction was severe because it was your first exposure. Your bodies had no frame of reference. But it was also pronounced because I could not sense a single drop of Cursed Energy within any of you. You were completely… blank. Like voids in a space saturated with noise. It was… unsettling."
Naofumi shifted uncomfortably. "Unsettling? What's that supposed to mean?"
Noritoshi's expression grew more focused. "In my world, there exists a phenomenon known as a Heavenly Restriction. It is a binding condition from birth: in exchange for losing one thing, you gain another."
He let the concept hang for a moment, his eyes passing over each of them. "There are many types. But the one most relevant now is a restriction where the individual possesses zero Cursed Energy. In exchange, they gain a superhuman physical body. Capable of moving faster than a jet, striking with the force of artillery."
A heavy quiet followed the description. Motoyasu broke it, his voice hesitant. "And you thought we had that?"
"When I sensed no energy in you, it was my first suspicion," Noritoshi admitted. "An individual with such a restriction is one of the most dangerous threats a sorcerer can face. They are invisible to most senses and can move faster than thought. To encounter not one, but three potential unknowns of that caliber…" He trailed off, the unspoken conclusion clear: it was a nightmare scenario.
"It was not an assumption of hostility, but a preparation for worst-case scenario."
Ren finally spoke, his voice quiet but strained with a new understanding. "So you scared us… because you were scared of us?"
Noritoshi met his gaze squarely. "Not of you. Of what you might have been. In my world, assumptions kill. I erred on the side of caution to ensure we could have this conversation at all. Though I'm a little surprised when you guys complied with my demand."
After a moment of heavy silence, Noritoshi spoke again, his tone thoughtful. "There is another anomaly. While you possess no Cursed Energy, I can perceive… something else. A different form of energy resting within you. I cannot identify its nature."
Ren's head snapped up. A different energy? His mind raced through game menus. "Could it be… MP? Or SP? From the status screen?"
"Perhaps," Noritoshi conceded, tilting his head as if re-examining them. "But it feels intrinsic, not a mere statistic. It is more likely an effect of your legendary weapons. They may be acting as conduits or generators for this unknown power."
Ren's pulse quickened. That made a twisted kind of sense. But then Noritoshi added the final, galling detail.
"Regardless of its source, the energy is there. I can sense its flow in each of you. Yours," he said, his eyes locking onto Ren, "feels sharp, focused. Like a blade held at rest."
A hot spike of jealousy, ugly and immediate, lanced through Ren's chest. He struggled to keep his face neutral. He can feel it. He can sense its flow. While Ren was staring at icons and numbers, Noritoshi was already interacting with the world on a tactile, energetic level. He was playing a menu-driven RPG; Noritoshi was operating on instinct and decades of training with a real, tangible power.
"And you can… move this energy?" Ren asked, his voice tighter than he intended.
"To a very minor degree, yes," Noritoshi said. "The principles of energy manipulation seems to be mostly universal. But without understanding its specific properties, it would be reckless to attempt more. Cursed Energy responds to negative intent. This energy…" He paused, genuinely curious. "I do not yet know what it responds to."
The admission did little to soothe Ren's frustration. Noritoshi had a head start he could never match.
The subtle tension in the room suddenly broke when Motoyasu, ever the opportunist, seized the silence. "Well, on the bright side," he said with a lopsided grin, "at least you didn't just assume we were harmless and get us all killed. Silver linings, right?"
Such an absurdly optimistic thought. Besides him, he heard a soft chuckle escaped Naofumi, sounding more like a release of nervous tension more than anything really. To Ren's own surprise, he felt a short, dry laugh hitch in his own throat. And most startling of all, Noritoshi's stern expression softened by a fraction. A faint, almost imperceptible huff of air—the ghost of a chuckle—passed his lips as he gave a slow, acknowledging nod.
"Yeah," Motoyasu beamed, looking immensely pleased with himself. "See? We're finally doing it. Team Bonding. We're Team Bonding."
With the air somewhat lighter, Ren leaned forward, the strategist in him overriding his earlier frustration. "Noritoshi, what about your blood technique? Even if we don't have Cursed Energy, could the energy from our weapons… act as a substitute? Could we learn it?"
He saw the answer in the slight, apologetic downturn of Noritoshi's mouth before he even spoke. "No. A Cursed Technique is not a skill one learns. It is an innate, inherited blueprint. It is tied to one's bloodline, a specific expression of the soul granted at birth. You either possess one when you leave the womb, or you do not. Except for some very specific condition, this is the norm."
Ren's hope, so recently kindled, crumbled into ash. Bloodline-locked. It was the ultimate paywall, and he hadn't even been born in the right universe to qualify.
Seeing his deflation, Noritoshi spoke again, his tone offering a compromise. "However, the application of energy seem to work in a mostly universal principle. The foundational uses of Cursed Energy—reinforcing the body, erecting simple barriers, enhancing perception—these are techniques of control, not inheritance. It is possible the energy from your weapons could be manipulated in a similar fashion. It would require… experimentation."
Ren's head snapped up. Experimentation. That was a language he understood. "You'd help? To see if we can adapt those basics?"
"I would be… interested in the results," Noritoshi conceded, the scholar in him clearly intrigued by the unknown variable they represented.
"Could I… join this?" Naofumi asked, his practical mind clearly seeing the potential defensive benefits. "If there's a way to make a barrier or even my shield even stronger, I need to know."
Motoyasu clapped his hands together, his earlier grin returning. "Why not make it a team activity? A little 'figure out our magic' bonding session while we wait for our party members!"
Ren looked at Noritoshi, who gave a slow, considering nod. Naofumi simply nodded with a little smile in agreement. For the first time since his summoning, a thread of genuine, proactive purpose wove through the dread. It wasn't a legendary technique, but it was a starting point.
"Alright then," Ren said, a determined edge returning to his voice. "We experiment."
.
.
.
.
.
Noritoshi considered himself to be observant, but one didn't need great perception to see Ren Amaki's dissatisfaction. The Sword Hero's frustration was a quiet, simmering thing, evident in the tight line of his shoulders and the intense, fruitless focus in his eyes. He was comparing himself to Noritoshi, which was an inherently unfair metric. Noritoshi had been groomed from childhood to perceive and manipulate Cursed Energy; he knew the pathways of power within his own body as intimately as his own heartbeat. Ren was, by all accounts, an ordinary high school student from a more technologically advanced world. The gulf between them was one of decades of specialized conditioning, not innate superiority.
A part of Noritoshi wanted to offer reassurance, to state this plainly. But he held back. They were not yet familiar enough for such direct counsel, and unsolicited advice could be misconstrued as condescension. At least the others seemed less burdened by the comparison. Naofumi appeared to accept the inherent difference without internalizing it as a personal failing. Motoyasu doesn't seem to have any thoughts about it.
Of course, their "experiment" was less a collaborative effort and more Noritoshi conducting solo research with them as observers. While Ren, Naofumi, and Motoyasu sat in strained concentration, trying and failing to feel the energy he described, Noritoshi turned his focus inward, attempting to grasp the inner workings of the new energies that had latched onto him in this world.
First, he started with MP—Mana Points, according to the others. The energy felt peculiar: incredibly fluid and flexible. Compared to the dense, often volatile nature of Cursed Energy, it was like the difference between a solid and a liquid. He wondered what "magic" in this world was truly like, if the fuel for it was already this malleable. Would it function like the RPGs the others referenced, capable of any effect so long as one's level and mana pool were sufficient?
His curiosity finally prompted him to break the silence. "What are the possibilities of this energy? Do you guys have any ideas?"
Ren glanced up, pulled from his frustration. "In my world, there's a game called Brave Star Online. The lore is eerily similar—the Waves, the countries, even the classes. I usually only play as a swordsman, so I'm not an expert on magic. But it's described as powerful and very versatile. There is a concept called 'Magic Affinity,' though. You either do quests or grind activities related to the affinity you want, or you can buy it, since it's also premium content."
"Wow," Motoyasu chimed in, his face lighting up. "That's really similar to a popular game in my world, Emerald Online! Though yours doesn't seem to have a weapon strengthening method, huh?"
"No, there is a strengthening method in the game," Ren corrected.
Motoyasu leaned forward, a guess already on his lips. "Oh, let me guess! You can power up your weapon's form using special ores."
Ren said at the same time. "You increase a weapon's mastery, which improves its stats."
They spoke the last two lines in near unison.
They stopped, staring at each other.
"Huh?"
Motoyasu gestured enthusiastically. "You power up a weapon form using ores. There's no limit, but each attempt has a chance of failure, and if it fails, the form resets to zero. Then you've got Enchantments—using absorbed items or monster souls to add special powers or random stat boosts. That's how it works."
Ren shook his head, his own certainty rising. "No. You increase mastery by using the weapon. At Mastery Level 100, it's complete. You can then reset it, converting that mastery into a pool of energy. That energy can 'Awaken' a weapon form, boosting its stats and unlocking abilities. You can also use it to increase the weapon's rarity—Common, Uncommon, Rare, all the way up. That's the real progression."
They began talking over each other, voices rising with a gamer's fervent insistence.
"It's about ores and slots!"
"It's about mastery and energy conversion!"
"You're describing a cheap mobile game!"
"Yours is pure, unfun RNG!"
Naofumi just watched the debate with a tired expression, while Noritoshi observed quietly, filing away the contradictory data. The argument was reaching its peak when a soft, crystalline chime echoed in Noritoshi's mind, and a translucent blue window materialized before his eyes.
Bow Strengthening Methods
His gaze scanned the text, his analytical mind instantly cross-referencing the two argued systems against this new, definitive data. A slow, understanding breath escaped him.
"Both of you," he said, his calm, measured voice cutting cleanly through the dispute.
They fell silent, turning to him. He gestured to the air where his status screen hung, visible only to him. "You are both correct. And you are both wrong."
He read aloud, his tone that of a scholar presenting findings.
"The power of a weapon form can be raised by equipping it with certain ores. This never fails. Each weapon form has a finite number of slots for ores. Each ore type boosts a different stat."
He looked at Motoyasu. "This aligns with your 'ore' method, but without failure."
He continued. "Item Enchantment: Absorbed items can be converted into energy to grant percentage-based stat enchantments to any weapon form. Success in upgrading these enchantments is probabilistic, with failure resetting the level to zero."
He glanced at Ren. "This shares concepts with your 'Energy Transfer' and 'Rarity Up,' but the mechanics are distinct."
Finally, he read the last line. "Job Level: Specific stats can be increased using energy from absorbed materials. Each level requires more energy and has a cooldown. Raising a Job stat sufficiently can unlock new skills."
Noritoshi let the window fade. "It is not one system or the other. Our weapons appear to follow
different rule sets."
The room was silent for a moment, the previous argument rendered null.
Another soft chime sounded in Noritoshi's mind. A second notification cascaded into view.
New Information Integrated.
Sword Hero Strengthening Methods — Unlocked.
Spear Hero Strengthening Methods — Unlocked.
What? Noritoshi's composure wavered for a second. How? The mechanism was unclear, but the timing was undeniable. The only new variables were their passionate, detailed explanations and his own conscious acceptance of their logic as valid. Did the system register shared belief? Did understanding another hero's "truth" grant direct, complete access?
A series of simultaneous, sharp inhales from across the room confirmed he was not alone.
"I just got… everything. Your strengthening methods, Noritoshi, Motoyasu," Ren said, his voice hushed with awe as he stared into empty space. "It's all there."
"And I see yours," Motoyasu breathed out, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Mastery, energy transfer, rarity upgrades, ores, and jobs… the complete blueprint. Whoa. This is wild!"
Naofumi, who had been silent through the debate, nodded slowly. "I have all three of yours. It's complete, too."
Noritoshi quickly ran the calculation in his head. Four heroes. Each now possessed their own method plus the three others'. "So in total," he stated, the number feeling significant, "we each have access to four strengthening methodologies."
The air in the room changed. The competitive tension evaporated, replaced by a crackling, shared electricity of discovery.
"The legendary weapons…" Ren began, his eyes alight with a new, staggering hypothesis.
"Could it be that they're learning from us? When we shared our knowledge and accepted it as truth, the system granted full access."
Naofumi shifted uncomfortably, breaking the excited atmosphere. "Umm, I'm sorry to interrupt, but... it seems like the Shield doesn't have any strengthening methods. At least, not like yours. The only notification I got was for my own, and it's just... vague. It only mentions absorption, which the menu said all Legendary Weapon possessed by themselves."
"Don't lie, man!" Motoyasu said, his grin turning into a frown of disbelief. "You're just saying that because you want to keep an advantage!"
"Yeah," Ren agreed, his analytical suspicion flaring. "You heard how 'useless' we said the Shield is in our games. You're trying to hide a method so we don't think you're dead weight."
Naofumi flinched, his face flushing with a mix of anger and hurt. "I'm not lying! Why would I—"
"What," Noritoshi cut in, his voice a calm blade through the rising heat. "What do you mean by 'useless'?"
Ren and Motoyasu turned to him, their frustration finding a new outlet.
"In every game like this," Ren explained, his tone that of stating an obvious fact, "the Shielder or Defender class is the least picked. It has zero attack power. And in the late game, every boss has defense-piercing or percentage-based damage that makes pure defense meaningless. They can't solo anything. They're just... a walking wall that eventually gets knocked over."
"It's a support role that gets outscaled," Motoyasu added with a shrug, as if it were simple math.
Noritoshi listened, his expression unchanging. When they finished, he let the silence stretch for a moment, his gaze passing over Naofumi's defensive hunch, Ren's competitive glare, and Motoyasu's casual certainty.
So that's it. It's evident that they're still looking at this world as if it's a game. The status screen, the stats, even these job levels—it all keeps them thinking that this world is the same as their games. And now they're measuring each other by that same logic. Writing Naofumi off because his role doesn't fit their idea of a good build.
He didn't know the full potential of these Legendary Weapons. But if they were meant to save a world, then logic dictated every one of them would be essential. A tool that could stop any attack wasn't a bad class. No, it would be the opposite. It was a strategic miracle.
He spoke, his words measured and final. "You are making a critical error in your assessment. You are applying game balance to reality. This," he gestured around the opulent room, then to the weapons they held, "bears similarities to your games, which is another point of profound oddity and a red flag we must consider. But it is not a game. There is no developer ensuring late-game enemies 'bypass' a perfectly realized absolute defense. If the Shield Hero can become an immovable object, then he becomes the single most valuable strategic asset in any conflict. He controls the battlefield. He guarantees the survival of his allies. In a real fight, there is no such thing as 'useless', only misapplied."