<<<6 years later>>>
Azrael's POV:
I'm now fully aware of this new world.
For the past six years, I've spent most of my time reading every book I could get my hands on. Histories, magic theories, records of past wars. Anything that could help me understand where I am.
This world is called Avidya Rahendor.
Unlike Earth, magic exists here, and it's divided into three main paths.
Warrior Mages.
Battle Mages.
And Arcanists.
The classification isn't random.
It depends on your balance between physical strength and mana.
If your physical abilities are greater than your mana, you're considered a Warrior Mage. They rely more on their bodies, enhancing themselves with magic rather than casting complex spells. That doesn't mean they can't use magic. They still can. It's just that their physical stats are naturally higher than their mana, making them more suited for close combat.
If your mana is greater than your physical strength, you're considered a Battle Mage. They specialize in spells, long-range attacks, and overwhelming magical power.
But there's a third type.
The rare ones.
Those who possess a near-equal balance of physical strength and mana.
They're called Arcanists.
They can fight both up close and at a distance, making them unpredictable and extremely dangerous in battle.
There are also different races.
Humans. Orcs. Elves. Vampires.
From what I've read, they were never at peace. Their differences led to countless wars in the past. Humans were considered the weakest race, which made them easy targets for the others.
That only changed five centuries ago.
A human reached the level of a 9-star mage.
Fortunaelis.
That name appears in almost every book I've read.
She wasn't just powerful.
She was also known as an Arcanist.
A perfect balance between overwhelming mana and exceptional physical ability.
That was one of the reasons she stood above everyone else.
She was the one who changed everything.
Because of her existence, humans were no longer seen as weak. The Elves signed a peace treaty with them, and the two races began to coexist.
The Orcs, however, remained distant. Silent. Still looking down on humans.
As for the Vampires, they don't have a unified kingdom. Some live among humans, feeding on animals instead. Others still kill.
But one thing stood out during my research.
Vampires are extremely intelligent.
Far beyond the average human.
They have their own language, one that no other race can fully understand. Yet somehow, they can understand almost every language spoken by other races.
It's as if communication itself isn't a barrier for them.
Maybe that's one of the reasons they're feared.
I also learned a few basic magic chants during my research.
But just like the priest said six years ago…
I can't use any magic.
Not even the simplest one.
I tightened my grip on the book I was holding.
Useless.
I clicked my tongue and closed it.
I glanced at the small pile of books beside me.
All of them useless.
Not a single one mentions necromancy.
I opened another one anyway.
Flipped through the pages.
Nothing.
No symbols.
No records.
No forbidden texts.
Nothing.
My grip tightened.
"Damn it..."
I slammed the book shut.
If I really have that class…
Then why can't I use it?
Why can't I even feel it?
Not even a trace.
It's like it doesn't exist.
Or worse—
Like I'm the only one who knows it does.
I exhaled sharply and leaned back.
Frustration burned quietly in my chest.
I forced myself to calm down and picked the book up again.
Getting angry won't change anything.
There are thirteen months in this world. Each one has its own name. The last month of the year is called Fortunaelis, named in honor of her.
During that month, every child undergoes an assessment.
From commoners to nobles.
They determine your rank.
Your affinity.
Your worth.
Most nobles naturally possess stronger magic.
Commoners rarely do.
Which is why nothing really changes.
Nobles stay nobles.
Commoners stay at the bottom.
I let out a quiet breath.
But there's one thing I couldn't find.
Necromancy.
Not a single book mentions it.
Not even as a forbidden art.
It's like it doesn't exist.
And the strange screen I saw during my baptism six years ago…
It never appeared again.
I've also tried looking for a way back to Earth.
Nothing.
No records.
No theories.
Nothing.
I walked home quietly, my thoughts heavy.
As I approached our house, I noticed a small crowd gathered nearby.
My steps slowed.
Something felt wrong.
Then I saw her.
My mother.
She was surrounded by villagers, her face pale, eyes red, tears streaming down her cheeks.
My chest tightened.
I ran toward her.
"Mom, what happened?"
She looked at me, her lips trembling.
"Azrael… my son…" her voice broke, "your father… he hasn't come back from hunting…"
My mind went blank.
"What? What do you mean? Isn't anyone looking for him?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "What happened?"
"They're looking… but there's still no news…" she sobbed. "It's been almost five hours… the rescuers came back, but… they couldn't find him…"
Five hours.
My heart started pounding.
Too fast.
Too loud.
Before I could say anything, a man stepped forward.
"Hello. I'm one of the rescuers," he said. "We did everything we could, but it's getting dark. We'll have to consider him dead and untraceable. He was most likely eaten by monsters in the forest."
For a moment, I didn't understand what he just said.
Then it hit me.
Rage burned through my chest.
"Bullshit!" I shouted. "My father isn't dead! Keep searching for him!"
The man frowned.
"Kid, we can't continue. It's too dangerous at night. Monsters are more active. There's nothing more we can do."
"No! I can't accept that!" My fists clenched.
"Then what do you want us to do?" he replied, his voice firm. "If you're that desperate, go into the forest yourself."
I froze.
Those words echoed in my head.
Go into the forest yourself.
I clenched my jaw, but I couldn't say anything back.
"Azrael…" my mother held my arm weakly, "let's just go home… they said they'll continue tomorrow…"
Tomorrow.
I didn't want to wait.
But I nodded.
I had no choice.
---
When we got home, everything felt quiet.
Too quiet.
From her room, I could hear my mother crying.
Each sob felt heavier than the last.
I stood there for a long time.
Doing nothing.
(Useless.)
My fists tightened.
Then those words came back again.
Why don't you go into the forest yourself?
I closed my eyes.
Fine.
I'll do it myself.
I couldn't just stay here.
Not while my father might still be out there.
Not while he could still be alive.
If something happens to him…
And I did nothing…
I won't forgive myself.
I took a deep breath.
Then I moved and slipped out of the house, careful not to make a sound.
The village guards were patrolling.
I waited and watched their movements.
When they got distracted, I ran.
Fast.
Straight toward the forest.
Toward the darkness.
Toward where my father might still be.