Chapter 1 - 1000 Years

  Daniel felt his head pounding as he carefully opened his eyes, looking up at the towering dome of purple crystals above him.

  He closed them again, furrowing his brows from the pain. But something was wrong—the image that his eyes had registered made no sense at all.

  “...What?”

  The last thing he remembered was publishing the final chapter of his book—the hero sacrificing himself to seal the immortal antagonist—then falling asleep on his keyboard.

  I guess that third Monster stopped working… At least I got the chapter out in time.

  His eyes opened again, observing more carefully this time. And despite feeling much more awake now, not much had changed.

  It was just like the scene of his final chapter—a circular hall in the middle of a mountain, taller than it was wide, and covered with glowing crystal structures.

  “Haha, what the fuck?” he mumbled, starting to seriously doubt his sanity.

  Is this what happens when you work too hard on a deadline? Hallucinations?

  He began studying his hands, holding them up to his face. They clearly weren’t his own, with long, slender fingers and relatively normal thumbs. Same for his voice, which he thought was just unusually deep due to him waking up.

  But it wasn’t his voice at all.

  “Huh, so this is what Artorias sounds like… I never really gave it much thought.”

  His main character had never been quite clear in his mind—at least in appearance.

  He knew the description well, having written it a few times throughout: medium-sized, brown hair, blue eyes—the average reader, basically. But the exact look had always been vague.

  Daniel started making noises with his new voice, testing the limits of how deep it could go. Deep "Aaah's" and not-so-high "Eeee’s," then a falsetto to really test the limits. The sounds echoed loudly off the crystal structures, remaining long after he closed his mouth.

  “Good acoustics here. I’m not hitting the tones I want at all, though…”

  He lifted his upper body from the floor, sighed, and closed his eyes. This had gone on long enough.

  A hand slapped his face, hard—hard enough that his cheek stung and his jaw hurt. But when he opened his eyes, the same crystalline chamber greeted him.

  The sensations were too real to ignore. The sounds of his voice, the lights dancing across the flat floor, the chill air… The nose, which now covered less of his vision than usual.

  “I guess I’m… really here?”

  But how?

  It wasn’t a dream—he’d have woken up long ago. Some dreams felt real, sure, but that was just the brain skipping over the details, and right now every breath and echo felt sharp enough to cut.

  The only logical explanation, if one could call it that, was… the afterlife.

  “Guess the doc was right; I finally managed to kill myself…”

  Not that he had been trying, mind. But the sleepless nights, the endless cigarettes and the energy drinks had caused more than one visit to his personal medicine-prescriber.

  Ten years of bad habits had finally caught up with him.

  He tried to remain logical, as much as he could in a situation like this. But it was hard when he was doubting his sanity. Emotions came to the forefront. Grief.

  Fucking hell…Mom will be heartbroken. Dad won’t be as sad, but… not far from it… God damn it.

  Now they had lost two children. Just as the pain from the last loss was finally starting to dull, he goes and overworks himself to death. He had put his life into that final arc, literally.

  Will my readers even notice I’m gone? Will that cute girl at the cafe? Did I leave any mark on the world?

  His books had reached a few thousand people, and that was something, at least. Someone would inform them that he had died, and that might bring another wave of new readers.

  Perhaps it would blow up? Perhaps in a few years, he would be known as the genius writer taken too soon? Perhaps his parents could live off the money, at least as a small band-aid on the wound?

  Yeah, nah, probably not. The story had plenty of flaws. A man can dream, though…

  After a few deep breaths, and wiping a tear from his eye with the back of his sleeve, he refocused on the present.

  He looked down at himself once more. Unexpectedly, he didn’t feel any disconnect from having a new body. For some strange reason, it felt normal.

  Thank god I made him human, I guess. And male, especially.

  Noticing a light glow from his left wrist, he held it up. A bracelet with glowing blue letters floating just above the surface.

  Oh, right, the index!

  An invention Artorias had created over the course of the story, made to assist with casting certain spells and keeping track of levels and Mana.

  [--|--]

  Artorias Grifantes

  Transcended Mage

  Level: 3108

  Mana: 3,923,842,264 / 3,923,842,264

  [--|--]

  The level is higher? I’m sure it was under 2600 at the end of the book… Five hundred levels, that’s… A big increase.

  That certainly wouldn’t hurt. As the main character, Artorias had been stronger than most humans. But Daniel hadn’t been satisfied with a boring world. There were sleeping dragons hidden across the map, both literally and figuratively.

  A future problem, if I stick around that long.

  He stood up from the cold ground, turning his attention to the entrance of the chamber. This place was far from civilization, at the edge of the continent, and he had no supplies.

  Food and shelter. If this were to last, those would have to be his first priority.

  After the most important thing, of course.

  Magic.

  “Can I even use his magic?”

  His hands trembled lightly as he pressed them against his chest, feeling something vast and electric thrumming beneath his ribs. Power. Actual power, unlike anything he'd ever felt. But unlike Artorias, Daniel had no real knowledge of how to use it.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  But what kind of magic enthusiast would he be if he let that stop him?

  “I guess… try the Black Fireball?”

  The moment he spoke the words, his world exploded.

  Like a flood, memories of how to create the black fireball rushed into his head—muscle memory, comprehension, void authority, the weight and texture of the spell—everything he needed to execute it.

  Energy moved from the core near his navel and out to his arms, where they jumped out and started forming a sphere of mana. Then he envisioned the eternal nothingness of the void with frightening clarity.

  A sphere of absolute darkness materialized above his palm. It streaked through the chamber, hitting the crystalline wall.

  The stone and crystal did nothing to stop the black flame, instead simply letting it glide through them, leaving an endless hole in its wake. The only sound was a quiet, almost alien humming as matter disappeared from existence.

  Daniel stood there, wide-eyed, staring at the hole. Chills were spreading through every part of his body.

  It was so easy.

  “Holy shit…”

  A few simple movements and a microfraction of his mana, creating a destructive power on par with a giant cannon.

  Another fireball hit the wall, then another, and another, and then two at once.

  It was dangerously fun. The wall looked like Swiss cheese when he finally felt satisfied.

  I’ve only done this in my dreams before, and those were always so disappointing…

  But then, as soon as he let his guard down, the memories of Artorias continued to flood through his mind.

  Images of his entire life—from his early childhood with his sister, to the long days at the academy, the death of his father, the long war, his time as a royal bodyguard, his exile, his adventuring days with the three other members, all the way to the end.

  The end, where his two friends had to drag the love of his life away while he sacrificed himself. The tears in her eyes, and the horrible sense of injustice he felt in that moment. So many regrets…

  It was over in a flash, but the emotions remained. And with them, a deep sense of guilt.

  His own.

  …Damn.

  He knew that writing a bittersweet ending to his book would be divisive, and he was aware that the characters left behind would be traumatized by it.

  But he only considered them as tools to further his story. Tools to awaken emotions in the readers.

  “...I knew the readers would react, but this… Fuck…”

  The scene of Elania screaming Artorias’s name tore at his heart, far more raw than it had been in his imagination. Even the death of Artorias’s father felt painful. It was as if the emotions of his character had become his own, as if they had fused into one.

  This was all starting to feel entirely too real.

  “...Okay, fine. I’ll go find her for you, Artorias. Her and your sister, however old she might be now. Although I’m not sure what I’ll do after that…”

  Elania was an elf, so she would still be the same. Probably even waiting for Artorias to return… It was a depressing thought.

  It would do as a goal, for now.

  “Mmh, I should get out of here.”

  He looked back at the index on his wrist, distracting himself while his mind wandered. If this was as real as it felt, he now found himself in a world filled with hidden dangers and immensely powerful beings.

  Though I’m not sure how I would measure up now. Even a hundred-level increase is significant, and Artorias was one of the strongest mages on the continent at the end of the story.

  He would have to make a plan, beyond just food and shelter. One that could keep him alive while he figured out exactly what had happened.

  “Going back to the academy is probably the safest bet… They know me—I mean, Artorias. And if Elania has gone somewhere to wait for him, that’s the most likely place. And his sister, Lyra, is still at home, I expect.”

  Getting there was another matter. Teleportation was only available to spatial mages with decades of experience, and while Artorias was a genius, he had only mastered four lesser branches of magic, none of them having to do with space.

  He could find a spatial mage willing to teleport him to the nearest city, but they usually lived in cities already.

  Hmm, maybe I can make some kind of flying formation with my knowledge from Earth? Or maybe that’s best left as a last resort… Walking, then.

  He stretched his arms, doing a final sweep of the chamber with his eyes before turning to the exit.

  It was time to explore the world of Jora.

  The passage to the outside had been blocked over the centuries, most notably by a cave-in that completely blocked the wide entrance.

  But with the void flame, Daniel could simply create a new tunnel by holding a large fire in front of him while walking. Nothing remained in its wake. Still, it was hardly a comfortable tunnel, with uneven surfaces and ridges everywhere.

  The void flame was useful for destroying, but far from as versatile as his signature gold light magic.

  I’m gonna test them all out before long. Gold light works better under sunlight, though.

  Finally, after a few minutes of drilling through the mountain, the rock and dust gave way to fresh air. Daniel tumbled out of the hole, suddenly losing his footing, and rolled a few meters before coming to a stop on his butt.

  “Ahh, damn! That’s bright!”

  The sun blinded him momentarily, making him cover his eyes. They slowly adjusted to the light as he took a few deep breaths. His lungs felt incredible, like the air brought new life with every breath. Even the smell felt sharper than he could remember fresh air ever being.

  I guess this is what healthy lungs feel like… God damn, I’m never picking up a cigarette again.

  He had made that promise at least a dozen times before, but this time he really believed it. That had only happened three times before. Luckily, no equivalent existed in this world, so staying away would be easy.

  His eyes finally adapted, letting him look at the surroundings. He had emerged halfway up the mountain, giving him an amazing view of the landscape.

  “Whoa…”

  It was an incredible feeling. This world, which he had lived in only in his mind, and which had been shaped by his imagination, now stretched out in front of his very eyes.

  The jagged mountains in the distance, which their party had been forced to traverse on foot.

  The great moon in the sky, nearly as large as the planet itself.

  The endless sea to the east, far deeper than any trench on Earth.

  And the white city right below the mountain, filled with towering buildings and encircled by massive city walls.

  “...Huh?”

  Had there been a city right there?

  No, definitely not. But everything else fit with his memories, so this had to be the world he had created.

  “How… how long has it been?”

  A hundred years? Two hundred?

  A city of that size… It could easily be centuries old.

  A sharp pain suddenly struck his heart, of intense grief. Artorias’ memories played relentlessly in his mind—scenes from their childhood home, of a young girl with a gap-toothed smile and scraped knees, hiding the dirt she had dragged in from their mother.

  Lyra.

  "Artie! Artie! Let’s play mages!"

  “Artie, are you leaving?”

  “Art, you’re back! Mom! He’s back!”

  One memory more painful than the next, until their final meeting.

  “...Don’t you dare leave me alone, okay? Whatever happens, come back again. I need my big brother.”

  Daniel's breath came in sharp gasps. These memories that weren’t his own felt painfully real. She wasn't supposed to grow old. Wasn't supposed to die.

  “Aah… Fucking hell, man.”

  This was all too intimate. The memories this body carried were nice, but these emotions were a pain to deal with. Then again, he probably deserved them, being the reason the siblings had never seen each other again.

  At least your sister got to grow old.

  That thought came out more bitter than he meant it to be.

  A deep sigh, then a few long breaths. Counting to four, breathing along with the square. He had learned to deal with it, mostly.

  “Anyways, a city is good. Food and shelter won’t be an issue now. Money, on the other—”

  One of his new senses responded to something. A weak burst of mana had appeared, putting his instincts on alert.

  Someone was nearby.

  ...Probably just a hiker, right?

  It didn’t take him long to spot her. There in the distance, a young girl dressed in white sat on a small boulder. Her back was turned against him, looking out at the same incredible view.

  Was she somehow responsible for the seal breaking? Or even for him being pulled to this world? It was the only clue he had, in any case.

  But even if she wasn’t, she would at least be able to answer a few questions.

  Like what damn year this is.

  His feet started moving, with intentionally heavy steps, so she would know he was coming. It wouldn’t be a good idea to scare the first person he met.

  He stopped about twenty meters from her, noticing how she still hadn’t turned around to face him. Her blonde hair concealed her face completely from this angle.

  “Hey!” he half-yelled, hoping he wasn’t being rude.

  The girl didn’t answer. She only turned her head slightly in his direction, so she had at least heard him. But, would she understand him? Were they still speaking the same language?

  “Uhm, can you understand me?” he tried, no longer sure.

  Still facing the other direction, the girl finally replied in a shaky voice.

  “H-have you come to kill me?”