The autumn wind blew with a frigid, biting force across the vast expanse of the Northern Forest.
In its wake, it tore a furious shower of golden, fiery orange, and deep crimson leaves from the twisted branches of the centennial trees, weaving a vibrant, multicolored carpet over the damp earth below.
Ed Rothtaylor dropped from the high canopy of the massive oak tree where he had spent the last three hours meticulously observing the distant movements within the academic district.
Thanks to the assimilated technique of Mirage Walk and the passive assistance of the Essence of the Gale, his freefall of over sixty feet completely defied the laws of physics.
He landed on the forest floor with the astonishing, weightless grace of a feather, absorbing the kinetic impact by slightly bending his knees.
Not a single dry branch or fallen leaf crunched beneath the heavy tread of his leather boots.
Straightening up slowly, Ed closed his cold gray eyes and exhaled a thin cloud of white vapor that quickly dissipated into the freezing air.
He took a moment of absolute silence to evaluate the current state of his own physical body and the dense, thrumming flow of magic circulating through his veins.
Weeks had passed since the chaotic and dangerous incident involving the disciplinary committee, and he had not wasted a single, precious second of the waning summer days.
His tactical mind—forged in the unfathomable brutality, relentless war, and desperate survival of his past life—had presented him with an indisputable and terribly frustrating reality: his martial prowess, his flawless ability to read enemy movements, and his killer instincts were absolutely perfect.
However, his current physical vessel, stuck at a miserable Rank E+, was a rusted iron chain that severely limited his every movement.
If he forced his muscles, bones, and tendons into prolonged close-quarters combat utilizing the violent, explosive nature of lightning mana or the sheer brute force required for King Grey’s swordsmanship, he would end up destroying his own nervous system from the inside out long before his enemies could even lay a finger on him.
Therefore, Ed had made an unwavering strategic decision: he would accelerate his overall growth by focusing almost exclusively on the path of the Mage.
During the time skip of these past few weeks, his training routine in the isolated solitude of the forest had been hellish, but immensely fruitful.
His magical capacity had experienced astonishing growth, forcefully shattering the internal bottlenecks that would typically stagnate a normal magic student for decades.
And this rapid advancement was not solely the product of his assimilated talent, but also the invaluable, esoteric knowledge extracted from his two highly unusual, unofficial “tutors.”
On one hand, Janica Faelover had become a very frequent visitor to his base camp.
Under the transparent pretext of “helping him clean the cabin” or bringing him fresh provisions wrapped in fine cloth, the elementalist prodigy had patiently taught him the advanced, intricate fundamentals of Spirit Magic.
Their long nightly sessions by the comforting warmth of the campfire taught Ed how to properly tune his mana sensitivity.
He learned to communicate, appease, and direct the minor wind spirits with surgical efficiency, rather than attempting to forcefully subjugate them through sheer willpower.
This newfound understanding had effectively halved the mana cost of his elemental spells, allowing him to weave protective wind shields and razor-sharp air gusts almost instinctively.
On the other hand, there was the true resident “monster”: Lucy Mayrill.
The notoriously lazy archmage had officially claimed the newly resin-varnished roof of his sturdy cabin to take her eternal afternoon naps.
In exchange for Ed not kicking her out into the cold and occasionally grilling some heavily seasoned meat for her, Lucy had given him a couple of exasperated but absolute pieces of advice while watching him train and sweat in the clearing.
«Your mana rotation is far too rigid and martial, you dumb blonde,» she had told him with a wide yawn one day, casually tossing a terrifyingly hot fireball into the air without even looking at it, making the miniature sun dance effortlessly between her pale fingers.
«Don’t force your mana to flow as if it were an army marching in tight ranks under the orders of a strict general.
Let it run like a furious, overflowing river crashing down a natural slope.
Magic isn’t forced into a mold, Ed; it is simply released.»
That simple, cryptic advice—processed, analyzed, and adapted by Ed’s genius-level tactical mind—was the final catalyst he desperately needed.
It had allowed him to optimize his mana condensation at a truly terrifying speed.
The dark impurities and stagnant blood particles clogging his core were violently purged in a single night of deep, agonizing meditation.
The small, trembling dark red sphere that resided in his sternum shone with a blinding intensity, transforming and solidifying into a much denser, purer core of a deep, burnt orange hue.
He had finally broken the barrier.
Ed mentally summoned his profile to confirm the hard-earned fruits of his suffering.
[SYSTEM: HOST STATUS]
[General Information]
Name: Ed Rothtaylor
Titles: Excommunicated Noble, Acknowledged by the Forest.
Template Synchronization (Arthur Leywin): 25%
[Main Attributes]
Soul Strength: Rank ???
(Anomaly detected).
Physical Vessel: Rank E+
Mana Capacity (Core): Orange Core (Dark Stage).
Agility: Rank D- (+10% Essence of the Gale)
[Elemental & Spiritual Affinities]
Basic Affinities: Wind Magic (Active), Fire Magic (Active), Water Magic (Active), Earth Magic (Active).
Deviant Affinity: Lightning Magic (Active).
Spiritual Affinity: High (Level Increased).
[Passive Skills]
Ki/Mana Control (Max Level): Perfect manipulation and flow of energy within the body.
Mana Rotation: Continuous absorption and refinement of ambient mana, even while moving.
King Grey’s Swordsmanship (Max Level): Absolute mastery of the sword and armed combat.
King Grey’s Close Quarters Combat (Max Level): Martial arts, throws, and muscle movement reading.
Military Tactics & Strategy (Max Level): Battlefield analysis, formation, and threat evaluation.
Killing Intent / Bloodlust: Overwhelming psychological pressure.
[Active Skills]
Wind Magic
Earth Magic
Water Magic
Fire Magic
Lightning Magic
Spirit Magic (Wind)
[System Privileges & Items]
Sylvia’s Dragon Will (Phase 1: Realmheart): [Status: Exhausted / Single-use consumed].
Multiversal Chat Group: [Rank: Administrator].
Invitation Tickets: 4.
Ed closed the glowing status window with a slow blink.
Having reached the Orange Core (Dark Stage) meant that his magical “fuel tank” was substantially larger, and the enviable purity of his newly refined mana granted him a much more lethal, refined, and deadly control over his elemental spells.
As he walked back toward the clearing of his cabin, the freezing breeze around him suddenly shifted direction, becoming sharp and erratic.
The minor wind spirits fluttered anxiously near his ear, whispering a frantic warning in a language incomprehensible to normal humans but instinctively clear to him.
Someone was approaching his camp.
And they weren’t coming alone.
Ed deactivated Mirage Walk, allowing his physical presence to materialize back into the clearing as if he had emerged from the void itself.
He leaned casually against the thick, reinforced wooden wall of his cabin, crossing his arms and waiting with an utterly impassive face.
A few seconds later, the loud crunching of dry leaves announced the arrival of two figures emerging from the thicket of the forest.
The first was absolutely unmistakable: Lortelle Kehelland.
She wore an elegant, long, dark blue velvet coat trimmed with silver borders—a luxurious garment that contrasted sharply with the wild, dirty, and damp nature surrounding her.
The second figure was the one that made Ed’s eyes narrow with cold, analytical precision.
It was an adult woman wearing the immaculate, strict uniform of the academy’s highest-ranking maid.
Ed recognized her immediately thanks to his intact memories of the academy’s hierarchy.
It was Ellis, the current Head Maid of the luxurious Ophelius Hall.
Her face was deathly pale and tense, as if being in this filthy forest, or worse yet, standing so close to Lortelle, was making her physically ill.
“I must admit, Senior Ed, your talent for wilderness survival borders on the purely absurd,” Lortelle greeted, her honeyed, calculating voice scanning the flawless structure of the cabin with evident astonishment. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were secretly preparing to withstand a military siege.”
“The forest doesn’t forgive the weak, nor does it spare those who fail to prepare for winter, Lortelle,” Ed replied, his tone flat, deep, and utterly devoid of emotion.
“And I highly doubt you walked all the way out here, ruining the soles of your fine designer shoes, and brought the very Head Maid of Ophelius Hall to my camp, just to admire my rustic carpentry skills.
Get to the point.”
Ellis immediately looked away, trembling slightly, visibly nervous about being recognized by the infamous excommunicated noble.
Lortelle, on the contrary, smiled broadly.
She deeply adored the way this boy cut straight to the chase, refusing to be wrapped up in her usual aristocratic word games.
“Straight to business.
I really do like your style.” Lortelle took a few confident steps toward him, pulling a thick, heavy leather envelope from the inside of her coat.
“The Sage’s Grimoire.
An artifact of pure spatial magic that ‘The Pinnacle’ plans to acquire to expand our economic control.
But Princess Penia and her meddlesome Student Association intend to confiscate it in the name of ‘security and balance’.”
Lortelle pointed to the terrified maid beside her with a fluid wave of her hand.
“This is where Miss Ellis comes in.
Tonight, she will use her maximum authority and restricted access to activate the magical defense system of Ophelius Hall.
The entire building will be impenetrably sealed from the inside.
No one gets in, no one gets out.
That will give me the exact amount of time I need to retrieve the Grimoire without the Princess’s lapdogs or the pesky professors interfering.”
“A total lockdown,” Ed commented, processing the tactical scheme in his mind with the cold detachment of a general.
“And where do I fit into this equation?
If the building is sealed, your job is already done.”
“Ah, therein lies the problem,” Lortelle purred, her eyes gleaming with pure malice.
“We need to create external chaos, a massive distraction, and ensure that absolutely no one manages to break down the hall’s defenses before I finish my work inside.
I need you to go to the main entrance of Ophelius Hall, destroy the magically sealed doors from the outside at an exact time, and act as an immovable human barricade against anyone who tries to cross to stop me.”
Lortelle extended the thick envelope toward him.
Its weight made it perfectly clear what it contained.
“Two hundred and fifty pure gold coins upfront, Senior Ed.
And another fifty when you buy me the time I need.
A sum that will guarantee you never go hungry or cold again in your life.
Do we have a deal?”
Ed looked at the leather envelope, but his mind was not focused on greed, nor on the banal desire for luxuries.
His cold gray eyes drifted for a microsecond toward the solid wooden walls of his cabin, toward the reinforced steel tools perfectly organized on their shelves, and toward the thick, resin-treated planks.
All of that…
absolutely his entire refuge, had been financed and provided by Lortelle when he had absolutely nothing and was on the brink of starvation.
King Grey never left a debt unpaid, nor a strategic alliance unhonored.
She had invested capital in him when she had no obligation to do so, providing him the means to survive in the worst of miseries.
Now, she was coming to collect on that favor, and Ed was a man of his word.
Furthermore, accepting this role had an invaluable tactical benefit.
Acting as the invincible wall of Ophelius Hall would allow him to test Taylee’s party firsthand.
He needed to measure their martial growth to ensure the stupid protagonist was ready to deal with the true disasters that would ravage the world in the future.
Ed reached out with unwavering firmness and took the envelope.
“I accept the job, Kehelland,” Ed said with a deep, heavy, and authoritative tone.
“You financed the construction of my camp and my tools when I was in absolute ruin.
Consider this job as the total repayment of that debt.
I will destroy the door to Ophelius Hall and be your barricade against the entire academy.
But I will do it my way, and the extra gold will only go toward expanding my provisions and weaponry.
I will accept no whining or complaints if the Princess’s brilliant Student Association ends up with a couple of broken bones trying to get past me.”
“Do exactly what you have to do, Ed,” Lortelle replied, immensely satisfied and genuinely intrigued by the strict sense of military honor he displayed, so different from the cowardly nobles she usually dealt with.
“Miss Ellis will open the curtains tonight.
Don’t be late for your performance.”
Lortelle gave an elegant curtsy of politeness and, along with the tense Head Maid who was still trembling, disappeared quickly among the tall trees of the forest, returning to the comfort of the academic district.
Ed was left alone in the clearing, the silence of the forest enveloping him once more.
The debt was settled, but the impending magical war would require much more than simple brute force and determination.
His newly purified Orange Core and the devastating swordsmanship of King Grey were formidable, but against the unknown variables, corrupted beasts, and forgotten magics they would face in the future, he needed resources of a completely different caliber.
He thought of the only System tool at his disposal that he had yet to touch out of precaution.
The Multiversal Chat Group.
If beings existed in other universes with advanced tactical knowledge, if there were individuals who faced apocalypses daily, or if they possessed destructive technological weaponry, ancient relics, or unique magics, Ed needed to contact them urgently to expand his own arsenal, forge alliances, and establish a mission system where everyone would benefit.
System, Ed ordered mentally, his decision finally made.
Open the chat administrator.
I’m going to use the four invitation tickets right now.
The golden interface materialized before his eyes with its usual exasperating sluggishness, and the text wasn’t far behind, bearing that irritatingly sarcastic office-worker personality.
[Ding.
Well, hallelujah.
The Host finally remembered he has premium features available in his menu.
I was about to archive this marvel due to inactivity.]
[Activating the 4 Multiversal Invitation Tickets.
Searching for highly compatible dimensional anomalies in the vast cosmic void network…
Please, don’t you dare blame me if you end up inviting a group of unstable psychopaths.
Complaints will be sent directly to the recycling bin.]
Ed watched, his face impassive and his hands buried in his pockets, as four spheres of pure blue light detached from the holographic System screen.
The spheres shot up into the dark sky of the forest like shooting stars and disappeared into instantaneous, invisible tears in space-time, traveling across realities.
[Earth – Seoul Military Academy (World of ‘The Novel’s Extra’)]
In the impeccable, aseptic quiet of an elite dormitory, Kim Hajin sat at his sturdy metal desk, meticulously cleaning the barrel of his lethal, modified Desert Eagle.
His laptop, containing his precious Synchronization Points, was glowing beside him.
Hajin was deeply immersed in his own paranoid thoughts on how to avoid imminent death in the novel he himself had written, when the air in front of him simply vibrated with an electric hum.
A blue screen, completely different from the interface of his own Author’s blessing system, materialized right in front of his face.
[You have been invited to the Multiversal Chat Group.]
[Do you wish to accept?
YES / NO]
Hajin dropped the cleaning cloth abruptly, his heart doing a violent somersault in his chest.
He quickly grabbed his heavy pistol, flicked off the safety with his thumb, and aimed directly at the holographic screen, frantically scanning every corner of the room with his Thousand-Mile Eyes.
Nothing.
“What kind of sick joke is this…?” Hajin muttered, a bead of cold sweat rolling down his pale forehead.
“Is the Co-author trolling me again?
If this is real…
other transmigrators?
People from Earth like me?”
His calculating mind, always desperate for any minuscule advantage to survive in that insane world, pushed him forward.
Slowly, with the barrel of the gun still raised out of pure paranoia, his index finger pressed [YES].
[Midgar Kingdom – Royal Capital (World of ‘The Eminence in Shadow’)]
The deep, mysterious night blanketed the city.
Standing on the highest stone gargoyle of the ancient clock tower, his long, dark slime coat billowing dramatically in the night wind, was Cid Kagenou.
He was in the middle of his nightly rehearsal of cool phrases, deep grunts, and imposing postures to impress the girls of Shadow Garden the next day.
Suddenly, a window of pure blue light opened before his eyes with a flash.
[You have been invited to the Multiversal Chat Group.]
[Do you wish to accept?
YES / NO]
Cid’s eyes widened immensely.
His chuunibyou brain processed the information selectively, entirely ignoring any trace of normality or common sense to arrive at the most ridiculous, epic, and grandiose conclusion possible.
“Fufufu…
Hahahaha!” Cid covered half of his face with one hand, laughing in a sinister, deep, and gravelly tone toward the empty moon.
“So…
the cosmic abyss itself has finally contacted me in response to my immense power.
A secret council exclusive to the supreme beings who control the countless worlds from the true darkness!”
Without hesitating for a single second, fully convinced that it was his absolute destiny, Cid slammed the [YES] button with a dramatic flourish of his cape.
[Tengu City – Skyscraper Rooftop (World of ‘Date A Live’)]
The urban wind gently caressed the infinite frills of Kurumi Tokisaki’s elegant red and black Victorian gothic dress.
The self-proclaimed Worst Spirit stood on the dangerous edge of the towering building; her left eye, a golden clock in a constant, ominous tick-tock, observed the city and its pathetic inhabitants below.
She was plotting her twisted plans regarding the control of time, when a blue screen sliced the air mere inches from her beautiful, pale face.
[You have been invited to the Multiversal Chat Group.]
[Do you wish to accept?
YES / NO]
Kurumi did not recoil in fear.
Instead, she tilted her head to the side, a sadistic, dangerous, and immensely intrigued smile curving her delicate red lips.
“Ara, ara…” Kurumi murmured, her silken voice dripping with immensely seductive danger.
She raised a hand covered by fine black lace and brushed her nails against the edges of the intangible screen.
“What fascinating magic.
It managed to appear right in front of me without distorting my shadows or altering my perception of time.
I wonder what kind of deliciously intriguing beings are hiding behind this glass.”
Feeling that this could be an incredible way to cure her eternal boredom and find new tools for her ultimate goals, her pale finger elegantly pressed the [YES] option.
[New Eridu – Section 6 Headquarters (World of ‘Zenless Zone Zero’)]
The strict, martial silence of the operations office was only interrupted by the faint scratching of Miyabi Hoshimi’s pen over tedious Hollow combat reports.
The formidable and lethal Captain of Section 6 was buried in the seemingly endless administrative work.
Without warning, a holographic projection of blue light abruptly interposed itself between her sharp eyes and her classified documents.
[You have been invited to the Multiversal Chat Group.]
[Do you wish to accept?
YES / NO]
Miyabi’s reaction was purely military, born of years of harsh discipline.
Her sensitive fox ears twitched with immediate alarm.
In a fraction of a second imperceptible to the human eye, she kicked the heavy chair back, and her right hand was already gripping the hilt of her lethal katana, Odachi, with iron strength.
“It’s not cutting-edge New Eridu technology…
nor is it the corrupt, repulsive signature of the Ethereals,” Miyabi analyzed aloud, her tone cold, calculating, and ruthless.
“External cognitive interference of unknown origin.
A direct contact from another dimension or a new anomaly?
I need to infiltrate to gather tactical information.”
With her left hand ready to unleash a lethal, glacial strike if it was an ambush, Miyabi used the scabbard of her katana to tap, with utmost tactical care, the [YES] option.
[Returning to the Northern Forest – World of ‘Sylvania’]
Ed Rothtaylor remained standing in the clearing, watching as the System screen flickered brightly in front of him, while mechanical notifications flooded his vision and the interface restructured itself.
[Ding!
The 4 anomalies have successfully accepted the invitation (some with truly concerning levels of theatricality and paranoia).]
[Generating the Secure Chat Room and assigning Anonymous Identity Titles based on the origin of the users’ souls…]
[User [The Observer] has joined the chat.]
[User [The Eminence in Shadow] has joined the chat.]
[User [Nightmare] has joined the chat.]
[User [Void Hunter] has joined the chat.]
[Attention, [Administrator]: You are the leader, host, and founder of this room.
The interdimensional mission and reward system is at your disposal.
You are requested to send an initial message.]
Ed read the titles assigned by the system carefully.
A small, cold smile—highly unusual on his always stoic face—curved the corner of his lips.
The system had done an excellent job of hiding their true names for now.
Wasting no time, Ed mentally typed his first message.
He wasn’t going to give a ridiculous speech.
He needed to be clear, transactional, and brutally direct.
[Administrator]: Welcome.
This is a closed and secure interdimensional communication channel.
You are here for one simple reason: exchange and survival.
[Administrator]: Through this medium, we will share information and weaponry, and we will complete missions.
Those who prove useful will be generously compensated.
If you have nothing of value to contribute, remain silent.
And with that heavy, imposing message sent across the vastness of the multiverse, the chat came to life.
[Author’s Note]
Hello everyone!
First of all, I want to offer a huge and sincere apology for uploading this chapter so late.
The power went out at my house for quite a while and they still haven’t fully fixed it, so I had to do some technical juggling to be able to write and publish this for you today.
As you can see, the Multiversal Chat Group has finally opened its doors to the selected anomalies, and our cast is complete under their temporary nicknames.
The future interactions promise to be epic and chaotic starting in the next chapter, which will be entirely focused on the first dynamics and missions of this new and peculiar group.
See you very soon and thank you for your patience!