Novels by The Guitarist

Inside the flickering amber glow of the shop, Helga turned away from the rain-lashed door and looked at Rufus. The sight was jarring. Rufus was a pillar of the kingdom’s industry, a man of iron and ego who usually only bowed his head to the heat of the forge. Yet, she had seen him bow to Arthur as if the boy were a king from a time before the stars were named.She walked toward the counter, her fingers grazing the silk pouches she’d prepared, her mind spinning through the decades of her life. For thirty years, Helga had been the heartbeat of this district. Her shop was a sanctuary of fair trade and honest words; she had survived the rise and fall of merchant houses by being the one steady hand in a world of cutthroats.But her greatest business move hadn't been a contract or a trade deal. It had been a walk.A few days ago, driven by a restless urge to expand her staff, she had ventured into the gray, suffocating misery of the slums. She had been looking for a servant, perhaps a despe

With three distinct pops, three bright orange bags materialized out of the rain, hovering for a split second before falling into my hands. Helga let out a choked sob of wonder, and Rufus’s jaw dropped so low it might have hit his boots."Sell these," I said, shoving the bags into Helga’s trembling arms. "But listen to me: Business 101. Low supply, high demand. The Palace is looking for these now, so the price just went up. Ten gold per piece. Not per bag. Per piece."Helga nodded frantically, clutching the bags like they were her own children."If I need help, I'll use the scrolls," I said, stepping up into the carriage. "Take care of the 'Vessels,' Rufus. And Helga? Don't let the Queen catch you with orange fingers.""We swear it, Master Arthur!" Rufus roared over the sound of the rain, bowing so low his beard dragged in a puddle."Move out!" I barked to the front.Barnaby snapped the reins. The carriage lurched forward, the iron-rimmed wheels grinding against the wet stone. As we ro

"It’s worse than that, Arthur," Helga whispered, her usual merchant bravado replaced by genuine fear. "The Nobles are furious. You’re selling power, pure, concentrated mana, outside of their control. The Queen’s Alchemists are being made to look like fools. If the Palace gets their hands on you, you won't be 'detained.' You'll be a laboratory rat in the Royal Dungeon until they bleed the secret of your 'Internal Logic' out of you."Rufus started pacing, his heavy boots shaking the floorboards. "The political balance is tipped, lad. The Church thinks you're a heretic summoning forbidden lightning; the Nobles think you're a rebel arming the masses. You’re a one-man revolution."I have to escape?" I squeaked. The "Manly Sass" was currently on a coffee break, replaced by the reality of being a sickly twenty-year-old with the constitution of a wet paper towel. "Rufus, I’ve been here for a week! I don't know the roads! I’ll get eaten by a wolf or a very aggressive squirrel before I reach th

The Great Smithy loomed ahead, the heat shimmer already dancing over the cobblestones. Rufus was standing outside the massive iron-bound doors, his thick arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a boulder with a beard. When he saw us, his face split into a grin so wide I could see the gold rings in his teeth.He stomped forward and delivered a back-pat that would have shattered the spine of a lesser man. "Arthur! Lad! You’re alive!" He paused, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air. "Is that... lavender and burnt sulfur? And why are you sparkling like a bride’s veil?""Occupational hazard," I grunted, checking to make sure he hadn't left a handprint on my "Divine" leather. "Met some 'fans' in the alley. They were very excited about the Orange Relic."Rufus’s expression darkened instantly. "The glitter-bomb? The merchants were squawking about it ten minutes ago. Said some thugs were causing a riot in the lower district. Was that you?""Thugs? Rufus, those were Royal Spies disguise

My gaze darted to the Spy's "potion" tray, which he had so meticulously placed on a discarded crate. There were dozens of them: bubbling concoctions in every color imaginable, glowing blues, shimmering greens, ominous purples. I remembered reading in one of Helga’s ledgers that royal alchemists often carried volatile reagents for... well, for making people explode, usually.An idea, as brilliant and dangerous as a Cheeto-fueled dwarf, sparked in my brain."Oh, unstable, you say?" I mused aloud, a wide, mischievous grin spreading across my face. "Well, that's just poor potion-making, isn't it?"I took a step forward, raising the Taser. The Royal Spy's eyes widened. "Don't you dare! These are highly volatile Royal Alchemical formulations! You'll vaporize us all!""Relax, it's just a little bit of 'internal logic resonance,' remember?" I said, channeling my best villain impression. "A little spark to spice things up."I aimed the Viper-X at the tray of potions. The sky, sensing impending

[Purchase Confirmed. 150 VP Deducted.][Current Balance: 50 VP]The air in the room hummed, and for a second, the smell of ozone replaced the scent of Helga’s roses. A swirl of digital particles coalesced on my bed, knitting together into a piece of clothing that looked like it belonged on a futuristic biker.I picked it up. The leather was buttery soft but felt as tough as dragon scales. I slid it on.It fit like a second skin. The high collar framed my face, hiding a bit of my skinny neck and making my jawline actually look... well, presentable. I looked at the mirror and let out a low whistle. The matte black finish made me look shadowed and dangerous. I tucked the "Divine Needle" and the "Viper-X" into the specialized interior pockets. No more bulges. I looked streamlined. I looked professional. I looked like a man who definitely didn't faint when women hugged him.I popped the collar and practiced my "mysterious genius" smirk. "Now," I said, checking the hidden pockets one last t

As she ate, I asked, “Marra… what place is this? What year? What kingdom are we in?”She blinked up at me, licking her fingers clean. “This is the Far East of Elias Kingdom, sir. Year of the Ash Moon. The twenty-third cycle.”Elias.I blinked. The name hit me hard. That was the name of my grandfather—Elias Robinson. He died years ago when I was fifteen on earth. A stubborn, old farmer who taught me how to plant tomatoes and use a pocket knife. Could be a coincidence... but still."What kind of place is Elias Kingdom?" I asked, trying to hide my reaction.She tilted her head. “The kingdom of Elias has always been. Ever since the Founders came from the sky with the golden flame. That’s what the elders say. But… now it’s ruled by the Red Duke. Since the King disappeared. Everything's worse now. The Red Duke lets his soldiers take our food.”Her voice grew small at the end, and she curled in on herself a bit.A goat bleated again—louder this time—and I saw a hunched man appear from the sha

Three days later, the sky above Robinson Town had never looked clearer, nor the winds gentler.Yet inside me, a storm brewed.I stood atop the old wooden watchtower near the southern edge of town, gazing down at the fields. Farmers, merchants, children… people I’d come to know, to protect, to laugh and cry with. Flare soared overhead, drawing lazy circles as if sensing something in the wind. Silvarya and Ella were organizing crates by the marketplace. Felix barked orders to a group of young recruits. Elvie shouted at a goat that somehow made its way into the general store again.Life had… settled.And yet here I was, unsettled.The portal glowed in a secluded grove behind my tent—quiet, steady, waiting. A tear in reality itself, its edges shone with gold and silver light, like a wound in time stitched with stars. The System hadn’t spoken since the reward. But its words echoed in my head every morning since.“You will meet the one who gave you strength.”But would I come back?That was

Casualties:983 soldiers.4 elite commanders.2 trucks.1 sky glider unit.We mourned them all that night.But we also lit fires.Tents filled with songs, laughter, and toasts. Survivors ate fresh cooked mana-boar, drank enchanted ale, and sang tales of how Kael punched a monster in the mouth, or how Felix rode a flaming sled down the slope shooting backwards. Even Karl smiled—his hands still bloodstained from the fallen.I stood before the fire, cloak torn, armor scorched.The people of Robinson Town looked up to the mountain. And for the first time, they saw it as conquered land—not a cursed place.The war wasn’t over. But tonight? Victory was ours.The mountain was still steaming—cracked earth and scorched stone whispering of war—but our people were alive, and that was enough.Even before the smoke cleared, soldiers began to remove their helmets. They wept. They laughed. Some fell to their knees and kissed the dirt. Others looked up at the sky, murmuring thanks to whatever gods sti

The snow stopped falling.Only for a moment.Then came the screams.Not from our men.From deep within the mountain.A rumble thundered across the valley. Rocks cracked, trees bowed, and the air itself seemed to recoil. Magic twisted and pulsed in the sky, warping clouds into spirals of black and red. The wind no longer howled—it screamed, like the voice of the mountain mourning its awakening.Then we saw it.The second boss.A giant of bones and black crystal, its body towering like a mountain itself. No skin, no flesh—just living fossil and arcane growths fused into the form of a behemoth. Its eye sockets burned with white fire. Each of its steps shattered the earth. When it roared, the sound ruptured stone and sent some soldiers to their knees, vomiting blood from the pressure alone.But we didn’t break.We fought.“Engage! Formation Delta—FIRE!” I shouted through the orb.Missile pods launched from our mounted turrets, streaking across the sky like shooting stars. Enchanted bullet

Time Distortion Mode: ActivatedYou now have 72 hours of absolute control—while the world is paused.Spend it wisely.I grinned.“Let’s build an empire.”And I did.In those 72 hours, I imported blueprints from the system and began laying foundations for new turret stations across the mountains.I arranged defense patterns. Reorganized supply lines. Optimized training regimens.I even restocked the entire Grocery Fortress, expanded its inventory, and reorganized the warehouse with robotic arms I built during my paused time.The world blinked again—and resumed.No one noticed. But I knew. And when the monsters came again… We’d be ready.The following days surged with momentum.The sun hadn’t yet risen when the town bell rang—a melodic chime now instead of the jarring war-siren it once was. Market stalls opened as steam hissed from early morning kitchens. Children with messy hair ran barefoot through the cobbled streets, chewing on freshly grilled sausage sticks and shouting about “drag

Inside the Grocery Fortress—as locals had started calling the town’s full-fledged supermarket—Elvie and Ella manned the main counter, their new system-registered uniforms crisp and clean despite the crowd. Five salesladies darted between shelves, answering questions, restocking goods, and handling enchanted scanners with practiced ease.“Ma’am, aisle four has instant sinigang mix and canned sardines!” one of them called.“Sir! We have new toothpaste flavors—mint, charcoal, and bubblegum!”“Ma’am, please don’t let your baby lick the shampoo bottle!”Ella chuckled while helping an old dwarf stack his cart. “Did we ever think we’d be running a full grocery store with mana-operated cash registers?”Elvie wiped sweat from her forehead and smiled. “Not in a world where hotdogs are more precious than potions.”Their success wasn’t just commerce.It was proof.Proof that life still had room to breathe, to laugh, to eat.Especially now, as new settlers arrived from the mainland—dozens of them