Work Text:
Chapter 1: Prologue
In a spacious room, nine people looked at each other with a variety of emotions in their eyes. Fear, suspicion, wariness. No one knew how they had ended up there. Everyone was busy with their own affairs, until in an instant, the landscape before them was replaced by bare black walls and a crowd of strangers.
The extremely handsome elf began to look around, and everyone followed suit. The room turned out to be round and quite spacious. The walls and floor were black, and there were no windows or doors. The ceiling was obscured by fog. Ten very comfortable-looking chairs stood in a semicircle around a small round table.
The elf looked up at the ceiling and staggered, causing a new wave of alertness. He said:
“I don’t know who you are or where we are, but I can tell you one thing for sure: that black fog under the ceiling is the power of the God of Death.
After a collective second look at the ceiling, everyone looked at each other again. Then another handsome blond man, with a pleasant and majestic smile on his face, stepped forward.
"I think we've found ourselves in a very delicate situation. I suggest we introduce ourselves first, and perhaps we'll understand what's going on here. I am the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Roan, Alberu Crossman," the blond man said, looking at the old man standing next to him with a creepy smile on his face.
“This humble servant’s name is Ron, my son, Beacrox, and I recently went on a journey,” the old man said, pointing to a man, apparently the same Beacrox with the creepy appearance.
"Choi Han. I'm looking for information about the people who attacked my village, and I'm traveling with them," said a young, black-haired man in shabby clothes, with a sword on his belt and a malicious look.
"My name is Rosalyn. I'm a mage and I'm heading to the magic tower," the red-haired girl in a traveling cloak introduced herself.
"Isn't that the name of the Crown Princess of the Kingdom of Brek?" Alberu thought, but he didn't ask, deciding that she had her own reasons for hiding it.
"I'm Lock," a lanky, but clearly very young, gray-haired boy introduced himself. He looked at everyone timidly, and oh God, I wanted to pet him and comfort him.
Next was an incredibly beautiful girl with blue hair.
"My name is Witira. I am the heir of the whale tribe."
Everyone who thought of whales as characters from old fairy tales looked at her in shock. Little was known about the whale tribe. They were the strongest after the dragons, the most powerful in the ocean, and no one had seen them for many years.
From under the black robe came the emotionless and even voice of the next person in the circle.
— I am Mary.
Alberu tensed again. He'd heard about Mary from his aunt, but he'd never seen her himself. But the presence of a necromancer in an already strange situation could lead to dire consequences. He worried about the girl his Aunt Tasha loved dearly, and he prayed that everything would be alright and their secrets wouldn't be revealed.
Everyone turned their heads towards the elf again, as only he remained.
“Eruhaben,” he introduced himself, throwing his hair back with a graceful movement of his elegant hand.
The smiling prince took the floor again.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all. Although I must admit, it doesn't clarify much. Of all of us, as I understand it, only Messrs. Ron, Beacrox, and Choi Han know each other?"
All three nodded thoughtfully, while the old man continued to smile creepily.
"S-s-sorry!" the tall boy, Lock, timidly raised his hand, drawing attention to himself.
- What's happened?
“I-I,” the boy’s voice trembled and it seemed that his courage had run out at that point.
“You have nothing to be afraid of, no one will touch you here,” Rosalyn said, smiling reassuringly at the boy.
Seeing her smile and taking a deep breath, he said:
— There are nine of us here. Right?
Everyone nodded. Eight people looked at the ninth and waited for him to continue.
"C-chairs," he continued, stuttering. "There are ten of them."
Everyone turned towards the mentioned furniture.
There were indeed more chairs than people in the room, which led many to think that someone was about to join them, or that there was already someone else in the room but they hadn't seen.
"You are a very observant young man!" the prince praised Lok with a patronizing smile, which made the latter blush.
"Since the gods are clearly involved here, I suggest we take a closer look. I don't think we can influence what's happening right now. But gathering as much information as possible wouldn't hurt."
Eruhaben looked at the ceiling again.
Black smoke still swirled there, and it seemed unlikely the situation would improve anytime soon. He lowered his head and decided to examine the only pieces of furniture in the room. As a superior being among the living, he was accustomed to relying on his senses, but here he sensed nothing but divine power, and it was disconcerting. The others followed suit.
As they approached, everyone winced, hearing a distinct growl coming from beneath the far right seat. A black, scaly face, twisted into a vicious grin, peeked out from beneath the chair. Everything would have been fine, but the face was covered in blood.
- Oh my god, it's a dragon!
Rosalyn gasped in shock and covered her mouth with her hands. As a mage, dragons were sacred creatures to her, and seeing one with her own eyes was akin to a miracle. However, culture shock didn't stop a sense of dread from creeping into her soul as she took a closer look at the dragon. His eyes burned with malice, hatred, and fear, which he carefully tried to conceal behind aggression. A tight collar hung around his neck, and shackles were on his paws. Through the blood that covered him, numerous scars, both old and clearly new, were visible. Wherever this dragon had been before arriving here, it was not good.
Choi Han tensed and placed his hand on his sword sheath. The father and son duo braced themselves for a quick reaction, prompting another warning roar. The Crown Prince froze for some reason, but understandably so; you don't see a dragon every day. Witira stood before Lock and Mary, following her instinct to protect weak creatures, and eyed the dragon with a wary gaze.
Eruhaben, however arrogant the dragon might truly be, couldn't help but be horrified by the baby's condition. Over his long life, he'd helped many small dragons through their first growth phase, and his heart bled at the sight of this child. Its face bore clear signs of torture and captivity, and he couldn't understand how a dragon could have ended up in such a state. He stepped forward and crouched before the bristling creature. A pair of extremely malevolent blue eyes immediately locked onto him.
The ancient dragon tried to address the young dragon as gently as possible:
- Hey, baby...
"STAY OUT!!!" the little dragon screamed, cowering even more and baring his teeth.
"Little one, you're in no danger. We're all in the same boat here. And none of us will lay a finger on you without your consent, okay?" Eruhaben said, glancing at the others and conveying with his gaze that they'd better answer correctly, before turning back to the black dragon.
A discordant chorus of assent and nods erupted. Blue eyes watched everyone warily, and after a brief moment of reflection, anger returned.
"NO! PEOPLE LIE! PEOPLE ALWAYS LIE! I DON'T TRUST PEOPLE! PEOPLE CAN ONLY HURT!!!" the little dragon screamed again, curling up even tighter and almost ready to break free and run, though he didn't know where. The only thing he knew now was that he was no longer in the cave. He just needed to figure out how to remove the mana limiter, and he would finally be free. His gaze returned to the handsome blond man in front of him, and what he saw made him shudder. He was met with a pair of golden eyes with slit pupils.
- Will you believe me?
It wasn't a human gaze; it was another dragon before him. The black dragon wasn't sure how he'd realized it, but he was sure of it. The others behind the blond dragon didn't notice, but they were all watching the events unfold. Realizing their actions were only further frightening the creature beneath the chair, they tried to relax as much as possible. The black dragon still watched everyone warily. He wasn't stupid. He'd heard their entire conversation earlier. And the long-haired blond who'd tried to get him to come out hadn't advertised his dragon status. And from that conversation, it seemed they truly didn't know what was going on either. After hesitating for a moment and deciding that humans posed no threat in the presence of another dragon, the black dragon, his eyes trembling, began to crawl toward the older dragon. The moment he emerged completely from his hiding place, even the seasoned Ron was startled.
Choi Han came to his senses slightly, horrified by his initial impulse to attack any threat, which turned out to be a wounded child. He remembered himself years ago in the Forest of Darkness: wounded, frightened, and clinging to life by any means necessary, hiding from monsters. The realization that he himself was now that very monster in the eyes of the little black dragon turned something inside him upside down.
Witira and Rozalin looked at the black dragon with tears in their eyes. The father-son duo dreamed of finding the asshole who had done this to the child and having their own "conversation" with him. Lok closed his eyes; he couldn't bear the sight of so much blood on the little body. Alberu gave his face the friendliest expression he could muster.
Mary felt very sorry for the little black dragon, but she tried to draw as little attention to herself as possible. She knew that people hated necromancers, and if her nature were revealed, nothing good would come of it. She knew that the crown prince also bore the heavy burden of secrecy, and she knew that if something happened, he would be unlikely to help her without revealing himself.
Meanwhile, Eruhaben finally took the black dragon in his arms, snuggling up to the first creature in his life whose touch didn't hurt. He closed his eyes and tried to imprint this moment in his memory as best he could. Warmth and safety. Feelings he'd never known before. He desperately wanted to cry, but he would never show weakness in front of people, no matter what it took.
Standing up and turning to face the other hostages of the situation, he suddenly noticed movement from above out of the corner of his eye.
The black fog on the ceiling was no longer calm; it swirled with increasing intensity, growing darker and more impenetrable. Everyone watched this phenomenon with fear, bracing themselves for the worst, until it suddenly stopped. The fog spread across the ceiling in a perfectly even layer, making it look even more suspicious, and then froze. They exchanged glances, their gazes making it clear that no one had any ideas, and then they shuddered as a disembodied voice, seemingly coming from above, disturbed the black fog.
- Finally, you're all here.
It was impossible to tell from the voice whether it belonged to a man or a woman, a child or an adult. As soon as the voice died away, the fog returned.
Clutching the scabbard in his hand, Choi Han shouted at the ceiling:
- Who are you and where are we?
He wasn't happy with the whole situation at all. He had a goal: to find his family's killers and take revenge. The tragedy and the beating of that stupid red-haired nobleman hadn't improved his mood one bit: rage seethed beneath his skin. He needed to act, not hang around with suspicious people in suspicious places under equally suspicious circumstances.
- Where exactly you are is irrelevant. And as for who I am... You can guess for yourself.
Recalling Lord Eruhaben's first words, the Crown Prince asked, suppressing his nervousness:
— Are you the God of Death?
- That's right, young prince.
The voice rang out again, still unrecognizable, but clearly more cheerful.
- Before you start asking me a bunch of standard questions, I'll tell you what you need to know. Please make yourself comfortable; you're here for a long time.
The fog wavered with the voice and died away when it faded, reminding Choi Han of the speakers he had seen in Korea decades ago.
Everyone was tense, but they sat as ordered, as none of them wanted to argue with the God of Death. Only the small black dragon trembled in Eruhaben's hands.
Eruhaben sat down in the chair next to the one the black dragon was hiding under, deciding the baby would be more comfortable with a buffer between him and the humans. Alberu sat next to him, followed by Ron, Beacrox, Choi Han, Lock, Rosalyn, and Mary. Witira took the chair farthest to the left. Everyone prepared to listen attentively.
The voice did not take long to appear.
- In twenty-two years your world will be destroyed.
Everyone froze. Shock pierced them. Alberu and Rosalyn, as representatives of the royal families, knew that the continent wasn't as peaceful as it had been for many years, but conflicts between countries always flared up, and it didn't seem like anything serious. But words about the destruction of the entire world from the lips of the God of Death carried a completely different weight.
- Also, in twenty-two years, an event was supposed to occur that was supposed to change the fate of your world from destruction to its salvation, but, due to certain circumstances, this will not happen.
- How so?
- Why?
— What happened?
Everyone started asking questions, no one wanted to die. Only Eruhaben remained quiet, knowing he didn't have long to live, and human affairs were none of his business anyway.
- I told you, I will tell you everything you need to know at this moment.
People tried to pull themselves together and listen attentively. Many had already begun thinking about what needed to be done, although no one knew where to begin.
- Since the events that were supposed to happen are impossible in your world, I had to rack my brains over how to help you. And I found a way out of the situation.
"Excuse me, but why do you need this?" asked Eruhaben.
He had always been a curious creature, he had nothing to lose anyway, but divine intervention in worldly affairs was something worth paying attention to.
- I may be the God of Death, but that doesn't mean I wish it on everyone.
This remark gave many pause. Mary took it especially to heart. As a necromancer and someone with a close relationship to death, she believed that the best thing about death was life. That's why she wanted to see the world on the surface, to see life in all its diversity and splendor while she could. But she also realized that on this vibrant surface, only death awaited her.
- Most of you have heard of the Death God's oath. Anyone who breaks it dies. What you don't know is that I can make a deal with someone who is near death or in a situation that could lead to death.
Everyone listened attentively. It's not every day that the Divine reveals itself to people.
- And I made such a deal with someone. My condition was the opportunity to show you the events that occurred in the version of your world that was saved, before it became impossible to change anything in yours.
When the voice died away, no one could utter a word. The weight of this knowledge weighed heavily on everyone. The very concept of making deals with death was staggering. The knowledge that someone somewhere was willing to help them, while encouraging, was quickly lost in the chaos of thoughts filling everyone's heads.
"Why are we here?" Rosalyn's muffled voice rang out in the silence.
- That world was saved largely by your hands. You gathered under the command of one man, and under his leadership, you became heroes more than just words. In the coming battles, it was you who stood at the vanguard. Of course, there were more of you, and you won't be the biggest change, but I gathered you here so you can watch, think, and learn. Not every friend is your friend; sometimes your enemy isn't even an enemy. Often, what's obvious isn't what it seems. All the beings in this room became family in that world. If you could do it there, you can do it here. Without it, you won't stand a chance.
Everyone exchanged glances. It was hard for recent strangers to imagine such close relationships. The very concept of family was different for everyone. Dragons are solitary creatures by nature, and imagining themselves in human company was something out of the ordinary. Choi Han had buried his new family with his own hands just a few days earlier and couldn't imagine opening his frozen heart to anyone. Ron and Beacrox had always cared only for each other. Rosalyn, though raised in a good family, had always felt the pressure of being the heir. Lock couldn't understand how he had ever met these people. He lived in a small village, deep in the mountains with his family, and he had no reason to leave.
It was especially difficult for Alberu and Mary.
What the Death God said implied that in the world he spoke of, she had emerged from the safety of the city into the big world. She had found people who accepted her for who she was.
Alberu had always avoided close relationships with people, both as the crown prince, whose position everyone wanted to exploit, and because of his origins. This sacredly guarded secret must never come to light; he had sworn to himself this long ago. Had they become family? That was impossible. His only remaining family was Aunt Tasha. And she had to hide to help him. His brothers weren't brothers, but rivals, waiting for his every mistake. His relationship with his father was also quite complicated. Not father and son, but king and heir. And the latter was also in question. And God was telling him that these people in that world were his "family"? What the hell happened there? And what did the phrase "under the command of one man" mean? Was that the variable they lacked?
"May I ask who gave us this chance?" asked the creepy old man, Ron, looking up.
- This person's identity no longer matters to you. When you return to reality, he will no longer be there, and he won't need your gratitude either.
Half of them noticed the strange wording of the answer. But they decided to put the question aside for now. Perhaps they'd have another chance to find out.
— Then could you explain the differences between our worlds?
“What was the variable that prevented the destruction of the entire world?” was the thought that was spinning around in everyone’s heads.
- Now you'll see everything for yourself. Thanks to the choices of three different people in different places and times, the man who saved you all ended up in that world.
"Have you entered that world?" Everyone froze again. Especially Choi Han, who began to shake slightly. Could that person have been just like him?
- You will see this man's life. And your own alongside him. You will see the path they walked and the price they paid for this victory. Your secrets will be revealed in the process. I ask you to be understanding of each other. In that world, you understood each other; understand each other in this one, too. Remember that in death, everyone is equal.
And again there was only silence in response.
Everyone had secrets, and no one wanted them revealed to strangers, even if somewhere they were “family”, here and now that was not the case.
Witira was the first to sew it into herself.
— So how will it all happen? And how long will it take? The seas are rough right now.
- You don't need to worry. In the real world, only a moment will pass. You know how before you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes? Something like that happens. Only it's not your life that flashes by, it's just two and a half years, and you don't die.
This explanation, though ominous, explained a lot if you thought about it. Everyone nodded in agreement.
- Before you is a blank wall. Fragments of memories from that world will appear on it. For many of you, the best description of what's happening would be... like watching a theater performance. For Choi Han, the best description would be "a film screening".
The swordsman winced at the unexpected mention of a relic of a long-lost home, but nodded his head.
- There's paper and writing utensils on the table in front of you, should you need them. You won't need food or rest here, but you'll have short breaks between notes to discuss what you've seen.
Everyone nodded again. So far, everything sounded perfectly understandable and reasonable. Except for the sheer insanity of the situation itself, of course.
- I can also restore you to health, young dragon, and remove your chains. But remember, you can't use magic in this place. And when you leave, everything will return to normal. That applies to everyone. None of your powers will work here. You also won't be able to harm anyone, even if you wanted to. You can try, if you like, and you'll see the results.
Ron immediately seized the opportunity and attempted to strike the black-haired punk who was irritating him. The punk saw the maneuver and blocked it with lightning speed, but it was unnecessary. Everyone watched in shock as the old man's hand passed through Choi Han, as if he were a mere mirage. Then they all turned to Eruhaben, who was still holding the black dragon in his lap and clearly had no problem with it. For the sake of experimentation, Ron simply placed his hand on the punk's shoulder, and nothing happened. Both his hand and shoulder felt as they should, without any sign of sinking.
"What a curious effect," Eruhaben said thoughtfully, stroking the head of the dragon child in his lap. The proof that the touch carried no malicious intent worked wonders on the black dragon. He suddenly went limp, visibly relaxed.
"Do it, Strange God! Even if it all comes back later, I want to be free!" the child said.
In everyone’s round eyes one thought was read: who in their right mind would call God “strange”?
The fog also stirred strangely, and an unintelligible muttering came from within. Those with enhanced senses were able to make out something about "the same," "will find," and "in the back." How mysterious.
A thick cloud of black mist enveloped the dragon and dissipated a few moments later, revealing a completely healthy black baby. It experimentally spread its wings and jumped, still getting used to the lack of any discomfort, then smiled and said:
- Thank you, Strange God!!!
Did the fog sigh or did it seem that way to everyone?
- Now that everyone understands, let's begin. You won't be able to leave until the very end; your stay in this place is, so to speak, paid for. You'll learn everything you need to know, and only then will you be able to return.
Everyone sat up straight again and focused. They were here, wherever it was, for a reason. They were also curious to see another world, even if it was just themselves.
- Then let's begin.
The wall opposite the chairs rippled and turned black. The word " Prologue " appeared on the surface and slowly faded.
“Prologue?” Mary’s voice said.
— It’s easier to keep track of events this way.
- I understand. Thank you.
And then a new voice was heard. For some of them, the voice was surprisingly familiar.
I opened my eyes and realized that I was inside the novella “The Birth of a Hero”.
- What?
It was a novella that followed the adventures of Choi Han, a high school student who was transported to another dimension from Earth and born as one of the continent's many heroes.
Turning to the black-haired teenager, everyone repeated their question:
- What?
He himself was still in shock as he digested what he had heard.
I became part of this novel, becoming the scum of a certain count's family. This family controlled the territory where the first village, visited by the novel's protagonist, was located. Choi Han is transformed by this village, and afterward, everyone who lived there is exterminated by assassins.
The biggest problem is that this stupid jerk I've become doesn't know what happened in the village and gets involved with Choi Han, only to get beaten half to death.
— …This will become a problem.
I felt like something more serious was about to happen to me. But it was worth trying to make my new life better.
- What again???
— Are you saying that Mr. Choi Han is also from another world?
"The man you spoke of took over Young Master Cale's body?" Ron asked.
— Do you know this man?
— My son and I worked as servants in this young gentleman’s house.
"You mean Young Master Cale Hanitus? The same Mr. Cale who's been the talk of the town?"
"Mr. Choi Han beat up a nobleman and is still free? That's strange, to say the least."
Choi Han quickly came to his senses upon hearing the familiar name. His anger quickly overcame him, and he exclaimed:
- This trash?
- Calm down.
Everyone looked up again.
— Remember that the man in front of you will no longer be the Cale Hanitus that some of you knew.
The sword master quickly calmed down, secretly hoping that since the body was occupied by another person, the original owner who had insulted his family had died.
Ron and Beacrox weren't sure how they felt about their former master's sudden personality change. While they didn't care much for him, they had lived under the same roof for many years.
The others, who didn't know the real Cale personally or even hear rumors, were curious. They eyed the black-haired teenager warily, but, remembering the impossibility of violence in the room, they quickly relaxed.
The Crown Prince, having assessed the situation, could only say one thing:
“I think everything is much more complicated than we assumed.
“We haven’t even really started yet,” he didn’t say that part out loud.
— Let's take things in order. Choi Han, are you really from another world?
Everyone looked at the young man, who became embarrassed under the close attention, but answered:
"Yes. At some point, I found myself in the Forest of Darkness and spent a lot of time trying to get out. I don't know how long it took me. I reached the village of Harris not long ago, but..." He trailed off, dejected, leaving the rest unfinished.
He received many sympathetic glances in response. They had just heard the fate of this village very clearly.
"Okay, we've settled that. We also now know that Young Master Cale is no longer Young Master Cale. At least in that world. But what does the novella 'Birth of a Hero' mean? Is it a book?"
- You're not just characters in some book, don't worry. You'll learn more about it later. It was necessary to prepare the transmigrator for the new world.
"The transmigrator?"
— That's what souls like his are called. You'll find out later.
Choi Han was pondering whether he himself was a transmigrator when his keen ears caught a disgruntled murmur from the fog, a barely audible complaint about "lazy bastards who could have finished reading for decency's sake." And while he was trying to figure out what it meant, the wall began to move again.