2026-07-07 23:15:25The first kick drove the air from Richard's lungs. He hit the rain-soaked ground with enough force to splash muddy water across his face and shirt. Before he could gather himself, another boot slammed into his ribs, sending sharp pain through his entire body.
Laughter erupted around him. It was the kind of laughter that carried no warmth, only cruelty sharpened by privilege. Students wearing the polished blue uniforms of Westbridge Academy stood beneath the stone archway, watching as though his humiliation were the afternoon's entertainment.
Rain drizzled steadily from the grey sky, soaking everyone's clothes. Most hurried toward shelter.No one stopped.No one objected. Richard curled slightly, protecting his stomach as another kick landed against his shoulder."Look at him," one of the boys sneered. "He still won't learn."
Another student crouched beside him with a mocking grin."I told you not to come back here."Richard wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and slowly lifted his eyes. The boy standing over him was Damian Cross, heir to one of the wealthiest merchant families in the city. At only nineteen, Damian possessed everything society admired: wealth, influence, remarkable magical talent, and the confidence that came from never hearing the word no.
Richard possessed none of those things. Damian reached down, snatched the worn leather satchel from Richard's shoulder, and weighed it in one hand."So this is what you treasure?"
He opened the flap. Instead of coins...Instead of magical artefacts...Books spilt onto the wet stone pavement. Old books. Some were patched together with thread. Others had pages held together by careful stitching . Every single one bore signs of being read countless times. Damian blinked before bursting into laughter."Books?"
His companions joined him."I thought he'd finally saved enough money to buy a mana crystal."Another laughed so hard he nearly doubled over."He wasted everything on paper."
Damian picked up one thick volume. Its title had nearly faded from age. Fundamentals of Mechanical Design. He frowned."What even is this?"Richard slowly pushed himself upright despite the pain radiating through his ribs."Please."
His voice was calm."Give them back."The request only amused Damian further."For someone with no mana, you certainly have confidence."He flipped through several pages. The margins were packed with handwritten notes. Entire diagrams had been redrawn. Corrections filled almost every blank space.
Richard hadn't merely read the book. He had studied it.Obsessively.Damian's expression twisted with contempt."I finally understand."He tossed the book into a nearby drainage canal, where rushing rainwater immediately began carrying it away."You actually believed these useless things could change your life."
Richard's pupils contracted . For the first time that afternoon, genuine panic crossed his face."No!"Ignoring the pain in his body, he stumbled toward the rushing water. Another book followed. Then another. Within seconds, years of careful collecting floated through the muddy current.
Damian folded his arms with satisfaction."Books won't make you powerful, Richard."His voice carried across the courtyard."They won't earn respect."They won't give you mana."And they certainly won't stop you from dying exactly as you were born."He smiled coldly."Worthless."
Silence settled over the watching crowd, not because they disagreed, but because no one felt the need to challenge him. In their eyes, Richard's humiliation was simply the natural order of things. Westbridge Academy celebrated magical talent above all else, and Richard possessed none.
He had entered the academy through an academic scholarship, ranking first in every written examination despite having almost no magical affinity. For a brief moment, he believed intelligence might earn him a place among the gifted.
He had been wrong. Every practical lesson became another public embarrassment. While his classmates summoned flames, manipulated wind, or reinforced their bodies with mana, Richard could only watch and take notes. The instructors praised effort in private, yet in public they always measured worth by magical strength.
Knowledge earned polite applause. Power earned genuine respect. Richard stepped into the freezing drainage water without hesitation. The muddy current reached his knees as he chased the floating books. One by one, he gathered them. Some pages had already begun dissolving. Ink blurred beneath the rain. His fingers trembled as he pressed damaged pages together.
Behind him, laughter slowly faded as the students lost interest and walked away. Only Damian remained for another moment. He watched Richard clutch the ruined books as though rescuing priceless treasure. Then he shook his head."I almost pity you."Richard did not answer.
There was nothing he could say that would matter. Eventually, Damian left as well. The academy gates closed behind the departing students. Rain continued falling over the empty street. Richard remained kneeling in the cold water until the last book had been recovered.
His rented room occupied the attic of an ageing boarding house on the edge of the city. The roof leaked whenever storms arrived. The bed creaked whenever he moved. The single window barely kept out the wind. Yet every wall overflowed with handwritten pages.Maps.Engineering sketches.Agricultural experiments. Medical observations. Historical timelines. Astronomical charts.
Shelves built from discarded wooden crates held hundreds of carefully repaired books collected over many years. Most people decorated their homes with paintings. Richard decorated his with ideas. After changing into dry clothes, he carefully spread each damaged book across the table near a small oil lamp.
His fingers moved with practised precision. Blot excess water.Separate pages. Apply homemade adhesive. Press beneath weighted boards. Hours passed without him noticing. Outside, thunder rolled across the city.
Inside, Richard quietly restored the only treasures he truly owned. As he worked, his gaze drifted toward a notebook resting beside the lamp. Its cover simply read: Questions No One Asks. Inside were hundreds of observations. Why do bridges fail? Why do crops die despite fertile soil? Could disease spread through water? Can mathematics predict structural collapse?
Would civilisations advance faster if knowledge were freely shared? Each question had pages of notes beneath it.No teacher had assigned them.No examination required them. Richard pursued answers because understanding the world gave meaning to a life that otherwise felt invisible.
He closed the notebook and looked toward the rain-covered window."Maybe..." he whispered to the empty room, "...I'm weak."His reflection stared back at him through the glass. Bruised face.Split lip.Tired eyes.A young man whom the world had already judged.
A faint smile nevertheless appeared on his lips."But nobody can steal what I've learned."At that exact moment, lightning split the heavens. Except...It wasn't lightning. A pillar of radiant white light descended from the storm clouds, stretching from the sky to the earth beyond the city walls.
The room trembled . The bookshelves rattled violently. Every candle in the neighbourhood was extinguished at once. Richard rushed to the window. Across the horizon, the beam widened until it seemed to tear the sky itself apart. The clouds did not simply part. They fractured. Thin cracks spread through the air like shattered glass.
The world groaned beneath an impossible pressure."What... is that?"Before he could step back, the light changed direction. It was coming toward him.Fast.Far too fast. The entire room disappeared beneath blinding radiance.
Richard instinctively shielded his eyes, but the light passed through his hands as though they were made of smoke. The floor vanished beneath his feet. Gravity ceased to exist. The walls dissolved into countless fragments of shimmering white. Then, somewhere beyond sight, an ancient voice echoed through the endless brilliance. It spoke only a single sentence."At last... the one who seeks knowledge has been found."And Richard fell into the light.
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CHAPTER 9 — SECRETS BENEATH THE KINGDOM
The ancient map did not remain still. The moment the last beam of light emerged from the crystal, the stone platform beneath Richard's feet trembled again. Thin golden lines spread across the engraved continents like rivers of molten sunlight, illuminating mountains, forests, and kingdoms that no modern cartographer could have drawn with such impossible precision.Then the glowing points began to move. One by one, they pulsed beneath distant kingdoms scattered across the continent. Caelan took an involuntary step backwards. "...Those lights weren't there a moment ago." Richard's eyes never left the map. "No." His voice was barely above a whisper. "They're responding to something." Captain Seraphine rested one hand on the pommel of her sword while carefully studying the shifting lights."Can you read it?" "I don't know yet." Richard slowly knelt beside the map.Unlike the symbols carved throughout the library, these markings rearranged themselves each time he focused on them. At first,
CHAPTER 8 — THE FORGOTTEN LIBRARY
The first scream came from beneath the city. Richard had barely finished examining the newest plague victim when the stone floor beneath the infirmary trembled. Shelves rattled, glass bottles toppled from wooden tables, and frightened patients looked toward the ceiling as dust drifted from the ancient beams overhead. The trembling lasted only a few heartbeats. Then it stopped. No one spoke.The uneasy silence that followed felt heavier than the tremor itself. Captain Seraphine's hand instinctively settled on the hilt of her sword. "What was that?" Before anyone could answer, an elderly city archivist pushed through the crowded doorway. His grey robes were covered in dust, and his breathing came in uneven gasps. "Captain... there's been a collapse beneath the eastern district." He looked directly at Richard. "It happened below the oldest quarter of Grayhaven." Richard frowned."The oldest quarter?" The archivist nodded urgently. "There are tunnels beneath the city. "I've spent forty ye
CHAPTER 7 — THE CITY OF DEATH
The smell reached them long before the city walls came into view. Richard tightened his grip on the reins as a foul mixture of decay, stagnant water, and smoke drifted through the morning air. Even the horses became restless, snorting uneasily and slowing their pace as if instinct warned them to turn back. Captain Seraphine Valcrest rode at the front of the column, her expression growing more severe with every passing mile.Grayhaven should have been alive. It was one of the kingdom's busiest trade cities, where merchants from every province gathered to exchange grain, cloth, timber, and precious ores. Travellers often described its streets as so crowded that one could cross the market without ever touching the ground if one stepped from cart to cart. Now...The gates stood open. No merchants waited outside. No guards challenged approaching travellers. Only silence greeted them. A silence so unnatural that it made every knight instinctively reach for their weapons. "This doesn't feel
CHAPTER 6 — VISITORS FROM THE CAPITAL
The thunder of galloping horses shattered the uneasy calm surrounding the village temple. Every conversation stopped at once as dozens of villagers turned toward the eastern road. Dust billowed into the morning air, rising above the rolling hills like a gathering storm. The sound grew louder with every passing second until armoured riders emerged from the haze, their polished silver breastplates flashing beneath the sunlight. Each rider bore the royal crest of the Kingdom of Asteria, a soaring phoenix surrounded by seven stars.The Royal Knights had arrived. A tense silence settled over the village square. Farmers instinctively removed their hats, children hurried behind their parents, and even the temple priests straightened their robes. Everyone understood what the arrival of the Royal Knights meant. The matter had reached the capital.At the head of the formation rode a young woman upon a magnificent white warhorse. Her silver armour was engraved with elegant blue runes that shimme
CHAPTER 5 — TRIAL BEFORE THE TEMPLE
The first stone struck Richard before the temple guards reached him. It glanced off his shoulder with enough force to leave a sharp ache, but he neither flinched nor turned toward the frightened villager who had thrown it. The accusation spoken by the village priest had spread through the settlement with astonishing speed, transforming yesterday's cautious hope into fearful suspicion.Only hours earlier, the villagers had stood speechless before fields that had produced healthy green shoots after years of barren harvests. Mothers had wept with relief, children had laughed while running between the rows of new crops, and even the oldest farmers had stared at the earth in disbelief. Now those same people watched Richard from a distance as though he carried a contagious curse."The temple has judged him."Then he must have used forbidden magic." No ordinary traveller could change the land overnight."Richard quietly studied their faces. He did not see hatred. He saw fear. Fear had always b
CHAPTER 4 — THE IMPOSSIBLE HARVEST
The laughter had not faded by morning. Instead, it followed Richard wherever he walked through the village like an invisible shadow. Children pointed at him from doorways while whispering to one another. A pair of elderly women paused in the middle of drawing water from the communal well just long enough to shake their heads in pity before resuming their conversation. Farmers carrying worn wooden tools cast doubtful glances in his direction, and several openly chuckled as though the previous day's promise had become the village's favourite joke."That's the outsider."The one who claims he understands farming."I heard he doesn't even have mana."What can a scholar teach people who have lived on this land their entire lives?"Richard heard every word. Years ago, those whispers would have dug beneath his skin and lingered there for days. The academy had taught him how cruel ridicule could become when repeated often enough. Back then, every insult had felt like proof that perhaps everyone e
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