THE COLDEST DEMON GOD
An Unwanted Hero's Ascension
Volume 1 — Summoning & Rejection
Chapter 9 — The First Morning
Renjiro Kurogane woke before sunrise.
For several seconds, he remained beneath the blanket and stared at an unfamiliar ceiling. White stone replaced the plain plaster of his apartment in Tokyo. Thin gold lines traced the molding near the walls, and a chandelier made from pale crystal hung above the room, faintly reflecting the first blue light of dawn.
Memory returned without urgency.
Class 3-B. The summoning. Chronies. The Divine Intermediate Space. The System. The Holy Empire of Valentia. One thousand Human souls consumed to bring thirty students and one teacher across worlds.
Renjiro looked at the chandelier.
“Right.”
Asteria.
He sat up. There was no stiffness in his shoulders, no heaviness behind his eyes and no lingering discomfort from the dimensional transfer. If anything, his body felt better than it ever had on Earth—not merely rested, but unnaturally complete.
Renjiro raised one hand and slowly opened and closed his fingers. Normal movement, at least visibly. The strength beneath it was another matter.
He stood and crossed to the window. Aureum remained mostly dark beneath the fading night, though thin lines of pale gold were beginning to appear along distant rooftops. Mana lamps still burned on several major streets. Beyond the city walls, the horizon was slowly turning grey-blue.
It was not Tokyo's skyline. No apartment blocks crowded the distance. No train lines. No aircraft lights. No glow from convenience stores or office towers.
Renjiro watched for several seconds, then turned away. Questions could wait. Training could not.
✦ ✦ ✦
The guest chamber was too small for proper kendo footwork.
Renjiro adapted. He moved the nearest chair aside, cleared enough space beside the bed and stood with his feet shoulder-width apart. There was no shinai, no bokken and certainly no katana, but none of those were required to rehearse movement.
He inhaled once.
Advance. Weight transfer. Imaginary draw. Cut. Recovery.
The sequence ended exactly where he intended.
Too exactly.
Renjiro stopped.
On Earth, even a movement he had repeated thousands of times contained tiny variables. Muscle tension changed. Balance shifted by fractions. Fatigue altered timing. A heel might land several millimetres away from the ideal position.
Now his body corrected those deviations before they fully developed.
Renjiro repeated the sequence more quickly. Advance. Turn. Cut. Recover. His heel touched the floor at the exact point he had visualized. No excess rotation. No wasted movement. No instability.
He narrowed his eyes.
Divine Body.
Probably.
Renjiro repeated the exercise, this time deliberately allowing his right shoulder to rotate too early. His body corrected the mistake halfway through.
He stopped.
Interesting.
Another attempt produced the same result.
That was useful. It was also potentially inconvenient.
A body that compensated for poor technique too efficiently could hide flaws rather than teach him why those flaws existed. Worse, if his new physiology learned around every mistake automatically, he might eventually mistake biological correction for actual skill.
Renjiro disliked that possibility.
Technique first. Power second.
He slowed down until every movement was deliberate. No enhanced speed. No attempt to measure strength. No experiment with mana or whatever other functions Divine Body had integrated into him. He focused only on stance, weight distribution, maai imagined against an opponent who did not exist, hip rotation and the path of a blade he did not currently possess.
Again. Then again.
His new body wanted to make everything easier. Renjiro refused to let easy become careless.
On Earth, a poorly controlled sword was dangerous because steel did not care whether a mistake was intentional. With Divine Body, that principle mattered considerably more.
He had completed another sequence when someone knocked.
Renjiro stopped.
A second knock followed.
“Kurogane-kun?”
Shizuka.
He opened the door.
Takahashi Shizuka stood in the corridor wearing clothing provided by the Empire: a simple dark skirt, white blouse and a light outer coat whose cut was distinctly Asterian despite resembling something she might have worn in Japan.
She looked tired.
Renjiro studied her face for half a second.
“You didn't sleep.”
Shizuka blinked. “That obvious?”
“Yes.”
“That was supposed to be rhetorical.”
“I know.”
She exhaled through her nose. “Good morning to you too.”
“Good morning, Sensei.”
Her gaze moved past him toward the cleared space inside his room. “What were you doing?”
“Training.”
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
Shizuka looked at him for several seconds. “You were kidnapped into another world yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“You discovered magic is real.”
“Yes.”
“We were told that returning to Japan may not even be possible.”
“Yes.”
“And your response this morning was to wake up early and exercise.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Renjiro waited.
Shizuka eventually rubbed one temple. “I genuinely don't know what to do with you sometimes.”
“You don't have to do anything.”
“That sentence is exactly why I worry.”
Renjiro said nothing.
The tiredness in Shizuka's face had nothing to do with losing a few hours of sleep. She had spent most of yesterday trying to maintain control over a situation in which she possessed almost none.
Thirty students had disappeared from her classroom. A foreign Empire had admitted responsibility. A Goddess had told them their transfer could have killed them. Then almost everyone had been given extraordinary foreign abilities while Shizuka was left to somehow remain their teacher in a world whose laws she did not understand.
“Breakfast is in thirty minutes,” she said.
“I'll be there.”
Shizuka did not move.
Renjiro waited.
“Kurogane-kun.”
“Yes?”
“Are you really alright?”
There it was. Not breakfast.
He leaned lightly against the doorway. “Physically?”
“Not only physically.”
Yesterday's Status Crystal had presented a fairly simple public picture. Most of Class 3-B possessed foreign divine structures the native artifact could not properly classify. Their Asterian Job fields remained unregistered, yet some of the foreign designations embedded in those structures—Holy Hero, Saintess and others—had been readable.
Renjiro alone had appeared almost completely ordinary.
Job: Unskilled Civilian
Secondary Aptitude: Farmer
Level: 1
HP: 50
MP: 10
Skills: None
Exactly as intended.
Shizuka, however, saw only one of her students receiving what appeared to be almost nothing while others received powers capable of changing their futures.
“I'm fine,” Renjiro said.
“You don't have to pretend just because everyone else received something more impressive.”
“I'm not pretending.”
Shizuka studied him.
He understood why she struggled to believe him. Most people would compare themselves with everyone around them. Renjiro simply had no reason to.
“Sensei.”
“Yes?”
“If that crystal had said I was the strongest person in the room, would I become a different person?”
She paused. “No.”
“If it said I was the weakest?”
“No.”
“Then the result doesn't matter.”
Shizuka's expression softened. “That sounds mature.”
“It sounds obvious.”
“And there it is.”
For a fraction of a second, the corner of Renjiro's mouth moved.
Shizuka's eyes sharpened. “You nearly smiled.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“No.”
“Kurogane-kun.”
“Breakfast in thirty minutes, Sensei.”
He slowly closed the door. Not quickly enough to be rude. Not slowly enough to invite further discussion.
From the corridor came—
“I saw that.”
Renjiro looked at the closed door.
Troublesome.
✦ ✦ ✦
Breakfast was loud.
Very loud.
Apparently, thirty teenagers could recover enough conversational energy overnight to overwhelm an Imperial dining hall even after being transported into another world.
Renjiro entered to find several long tables covered with food. Fresh bread. Eggs. Roasted meat. Fruit. Cheese. A thick grain porridge. Several vegetables he did not recognize. Bowls containing berries in colours that did not exist naturally in anything he had eaten on Earth.
His interest increased immediately.
His face did not show it.
“Kurogane!”
Junpei raised one arm from halfway across the room.
Renjiro briefly considered another table.
Too late.
Junpei pointed at the empty seat. “Here!”
Mika, Akari and Daiki were already sitting nearby. Shizuka occupied a seat where she could see most of the class. Reina sat near the end.
She noticed Renjiro examining the seating arrangement.
“Strategic distance?”
“Yes.”
Junpei looked offended. “From us?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
Mika continued eating. “Understandable.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“My own.”
Renjiro took the farthest available seat.
He reached for a piece of bread, then stopped before touching it. There was nothing suspicious about its appearance. That made it a perfect opportunity.
He focused.
Appraisal Eyes responded.
SUNWHEAT BREAD
Grade: Common
Primary Ingredients: Sunwheat Flour • Water • Salt • Hearth Yeast
Nutritional Quality: Good
Mana Content: Trace
Notable Property: Sunwheat naturally absorbs low concentrations of ambient mana during cultivation.
The information vanished when Renjiro released his focus.
No Status Crystal. No Chronies interface. Appraisal Eyes simply gave him information through its own mechanism.
Good.
He took a bite.
Soft. Slightly sweeter than ordinary wheat bread.
Junpei was staring at him.
“What?”
“You looked at that bread like you were trying to interrogate it.”
“I wasn't.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“Tasting it.”
“You hadn't bitten it yet.”
Renjiro took another bite. “Now I have.”
Junpei stared.
Mika shook her head.
Reina, unfortunately, was watching more carefully than either of them.
“Kurogane-kun.”
“No.”
Her eyebrows lowered. “I haven't asked anything.”
“You were about to.”
“That doesn't mean you know what I was going to ask.”
“No.”
She paused. “That was unexpectedly reasonable.”
Renjiro continued eating.
A bowl of dark violet berries sat near the middle of the table.
He focused.
MOONBERRY
Grade: Common
Edibility: Safe
Effect: Mild Mana Recovery
Taste Profile: Sweet • Tart
Warning: Excessive consumption may cause temporary blue pigmentation of the tongue and oral tissue.
Renjiro looked at the berries.
Useful.
Junpei reached for the bowl.
Renjiro said nothing.
Junpei noticed. “You're not stopping me.”
“They're safe.”
“That sounded suspiciously specific.”
“You asked nothing.”
“I was about to.”
Reina looked toward Renjiro.
Renjiro ignored her.
Junpei took a handful anyway.
Mika frowned. “If you die after Kurogane just stared at those things, I'm not explaining it to your mother.”
“They're fruit.”
“You don't know that.”
“They're clearly fruit.”
“You also thought those decorative peppers yesterday were candy.”
“That was one time.”
Junpei ate several Moonberries.
His expression changed immediately.
“Oh.”
Mika leaned away. “What?”
“These are actually good.”
Akari tried one more cautiously. She nodded. “They are.”
Junpei ate the rest of his handful.
Approximately half a minute later, Mika stopped chewing. She stared at him.
Junpei noticed. “What?”
Mika pointed. “Your tongue.”
“What about it?”
“Blue.”
Junpei froze.
Daiki started laughing.
Akari covered her mouth.
Shizuka turned, alarm appearing for exactly one second before she realized Junpei was breathing perfectly normally.
Junpei grabbed a polished spoon and attempted to see his reflection. “What the hell?!”
Renjiro drank water.
Reina slowly turned toward him. “You knew.”
Renjiro met her eyes. “They're safe.”
“That wasn't what I said.”
“You didn't ask about colour.”
Her stare intensified. “You could have warned him.”
“He ate six before asking anything.”
“Seven,” Junpei said.
Everyone looked at him.
He lowered the spoon. “Accuracy matters.”
Mika started laughing again.
Renjiro looked at Junpei's blue tongue. “Temporary.”
Junpei pointed at him. “You definitely knew.”
“Yes.”
Reina blinked. The admission appeared to surprise her more than denial would have.
Renjiro took another piece of bread. “There was no danger.”
“That does not make this better,” Junpei said.
“It makes it less important.”
“You're cold.”
Mika inspected his tongue. “No, the colour is kind of impressive.”
“Why are you helping him?”
“I'm not.”
Breakfast continued.
Renjiro tried another Moonberry.
Good flavour.
The tongue problem was minor.
✦ ✦ ✦
The Holy Empire began its first formal orientation after breakfast.
Class 3-B was escorted to a large lecture chamber deeper inside the palace. The room contained rows of chairs, several long writing tables and a raised platform at the front.
Only four guards stood near the exits.
No encirclement. No drawn weapons.
Improvement.
Or presentation.
Renjiro had insufficient evidence to choose between them.
Imperial Princess Aurelia Celestine von Valentia entered with two attendants.
No Malakor. No Emperor.
That made sense.
Yesterday had been about legitimacy and evaluation. Today was about normalization.
“Good morning.”
Aurelia bowed lightly.
More students returned the greeting than had responded to her father yesterday.
Fast.
She noticed.
Of course she did.
Renjiro sat toward the rear while Shizuka chose a position from which she could see the entire class.
“My father believes beginning military training immediately would be inappropriate,” Aurelia said.
Daiki raised his hand.
Aurelia smiled. “You needn't ask permission to speak, Kanzaki-sama.”
Daiki lowered it awkwardly. “Right. Sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Small reassurance. Delivered perfectly.
Renjiro watched.
Aurelia continued. “Before any of you decide whether you wish to study magic, learn combat, explore Asteria or pursue an entirely different life, you deserve to understand where you are.”
Two attendants unrolled an enormous map behind her.
Renjiro's attention sharpened.
Finally.
Information.
The map showed several continental landmasses, mountain chains, forests, major rivers, political borders and seas. Some regions were densely marked with roads and settlements; others contained huge spaces with almost no visible infrastructure.
Aurelia pointed toward a large territory near the centre of one continent.
“This is the Holy Empire of Valentia.”
Large. Powerful. Not remotely the whole world.
Good.
Options existed.
“These territories belong to neighbouring kingdoms, principalities, confederacies, republics and independent powers. Some maintain alliances with Valentia. Some remain neutral. Others are hostile.”
“Which ones are hostile?” someone asked.
Aurelia paused. “Relationships between nations change.”
Diplomatic answer.
Renjiro memorized the map instead.
Aurelia moved through practical subjects: the local calendar, currency, trade languages, major roads, basic legal expectations, magical education, monster territories and travel restrictions.
Then she stopped.
“One matter should also be clarified after yesterday's examination.”
Several students paid closer attention.
“The word Chronies-sama used for what she granted you was Class.”
Daiki nodded.
Aurelia continued. “That is not the terminology Asteria normally uses.”
There.
Renjiro listened carefully.
“Our native soul-reading traditions recognize Jobs. Warrior, Blacksmith, Merchant, Alchemist, Hunter and numerous other specialized paths may appear as Jobs depending on the person and the method of registration.”
Junpei raised his hand anyway. “So Class and Job are different?”
“As far as our scholars can currently determine, yes.”
Malakor would probably have hated admitting uncertainty that plainly.
Aurelia was smarter about audiences.
“Your Status Crystal examinations showed that most of your native Job fields are unregistered or unresolved. What Chronies-sama placed within you exists as a foreign divine structure. In some cases, the crystal could read a designation embedded inside that structure, such as Holy Hero or Saintess.”
She looked at Daiki and Akari.
“But it did not understand the structure itself.”
Reina asked, “So Holy Hero isn't Daiki's Job.”
“No.” Aurelia answered immediately. “It is the foreign designation attached to the Class Chronies-sama gave him. We do not yet know whether your Classes can coexist with native Jobs, replace them, evolve separately, or interact with them in another way entirely.”
Shizuka's gaze sharpened. “Then nobody should be forcing them to register a Job.”
“I agree.”
Aurelia smiled. “We will not.”
That answer earned visible relief from several students.
Renjiro stored the distinction.
Good.
At least Valentia had learned something overnight instead of pretending its native system already understood Chronies'.
Aurelia continued. “Until our scholars know more, your Classes will be treated as foreign divine structures. Any Asterian Job development will remain a separate matter.”
That settled it.
For now.
The orientation moved on.
Then Aurelia mentioned adventurers.
Renjiro's attention increased immediately.
“Adventurers?” Junpei asked.
“Yes. Registered independent combatants, escorts, explorers, monster hunters, ruin delvers, gatherers and commissioned workers.”
Renjiro became still.
Registered.
Independent.
There had to be—
“Are there Adventurer Guilds?” Junpei asked.
Renjiro looked at him.
Useful.
For once.
Aurelia nodded. “The Adventurer Guild operates across much of Asteria.”
Something dangerously close to happiness moved through Renjiro.
Reina turned toward him.
He ignored her.
Too late.
“You're interested.”
“No.”
“You leaned forward.”
“I adjusted my posture.”
“You haven't adjusted your posture once since we entered.”
Renjiro looked at her. “Why are you monitoring my posture?”
Reina paused. “That isn't the point.”
“It became the point.”
She looked away.
Renjiro returned his attention to Aurelia.
Adventurer Guild.
Excellent.
“The Guild is politically independent in principle,” Aurelia explained, “though individual branches remain subject to the laws of whichever territory they operate within. Adventurers are ranked according to Guild assessment, completed commissions, conduct and demonstrated capability.”
Independent in principle. Subject to local law.
Important qualifiers.
“What kind of monsters are there?” Daiki asked.
Aurelia listed examples.
Goblins. Greyfang wolves. Horned boars. Ogres. Wyverns. Various magical beasts.
Junpei looked increasingly excited.
Mika looked increasingly concerned.
“Why are you smiling?” she asked.
“Wyverns.”
“You've never fought anything.”
“I know.”
“You got tired climbing three floors last month.”
“That was after lunch.”
“How does that help?”
“It was a heavy lunch.”
Renjiro's mouth nearly moved.
Aurelia noticed the mood easing.
Naturally, she used it.
“If everyone becomes comfortable with Asteria, supervised Guild experience could perhaps be arranged.”
Several students reacted immediately.
“Actual quests?”
“Can we fight monsters?”
“What ranks do they have?”
“Can we keep materials?”
Shizuka stood.
“No.”
The room stopped.
She looked around. “You arrived in another world yesterday.”
Nobody answered.
“You do not understand your abilities.”
Silence.
“You do not understand local law. You do not know which plants are poisonous, which monsters are dangerous, how much anything costs or even where most of these places are.”
Junpei slowly lowered his hand.
Shizuka crossed her arms. “So nobody is fighting a wyvern tomorrow.”
Junpei looked genuinely disappointed.
Mika patted his shoulder. “Sensei has spoken.”
Aurelia laughed softly. Not mockingly.
“You are correct, Takahashi-sama.”
Shizuka looked toward her. “I appreciate you understanding.”
“I would be concerned if their teacher encouraged reckless behaviour.”
Again. The right answer. Always the right answer.
Renjiro focused briefly.
Appraisal Eyes answered.
AURELIA CELESTINE VON VALENTIA
Condition: Healthy
Emotional State: Calm • Amused • Calculating
Current Intent: Trust Consolidation • Group Mapping • Influence Expansion
Primary Social Focus: Kanzaki Daiki • Tachibana Akari • Takahashi Shizuka
Secondary Observation: Shirakawa Reina • Selected High-Potential Students
Renjiro Kurogane: Low Strategic Priority
Renjiro dismissed the information.
Good.
Low priority.
Exactly where he wanted to remain.
Aurelia moved next into religion.
Chronies. Other divine beings. Valentian doctrine.
Renjiro listened carefully, not because he intended to worship anyone but because religion and government appeared heavily intertwined within the Empire.
Humanity was repeatedly described as blessed. Chosen to bring civilization. Entrusted with order.
She never explicitly said Humans were superior.
She did not need to.
The structure of the language did that for her.
“What about Beastkin?” one student asked.
Aurelia's smile remained. “They possess their own peoples, nations and traditions.”
“And Demons?”
Several attendants became visibly uncomfortable.
Aurelia answered more carefully. “There are many beings described as Demons throughout Asteria. They are not one unified people.”
Better answer than Renjiro expected.
“Are they evil?” Akari asked.
Aurelia looked toward her. “Many have committed terrible acts against Humanity.”
Akari did not accept the wording. “So all of them are?”
“I would never ask you to condemn someone you have never met.”
Very good.
Technically tolerant. Emotionally weighted. Politically safe.
Akari relaxed slightly.
Renjiro did not.
Aurelia had avoided declaring Demons inherently evil while still ensuring Humanity occupied the role of victim.
Then the doors opened.
A tall man in white-and-gold armour entered. Broad shoulders. Grey at the temples. A scar crossed his chin.
He bowed toward Aurelia. “Your Highness.”
“Perfect timing.”
Aurelia turned toward the class. “This is Sir Cassian Verholt, Knight Commander of the Imperial Martial Training Division.”
Not a Hero corps.
A normal Valentian military institution.
Important.
Cassian surveyed the students. His gaze paused on Daiki. Akari. Several others. Then Renjiro.
It moved on quickly.
Good.
“It is an honour to meet those blessed by Chronies-sama,” Cassian said.
Yesterday Valentia had not known Chronies was involved.
This morning the Empire had already incorporated her intervention into its public narrative.
Efficient.
Daiki stood. “Knight Commander.”
“Kanzaki Daiki-sama.”
Cassian already knew the name.
“And the one bearing the foreign designation Holy Hero.”
Daiki looked uncomfortable. “It's a Class. Apparently.”
Cassian nodded. “A distinction our scholars are still learning.”
Better.
No pretending.
Cassian addressed the room. “No training will be forced upon anyone today. Those who wish may observe our normal martial instruction.”
Junpei immediately sat straighter. “Observe what?”
“Swordsmanship. Spear technique. Archery. Defensive formations and basic magical control.”
“And if we don't want to train?” Reina asked.
“Study.”
“What?”
“History. Geography. Law. Commerce. Magic theory. Monster ecology.”
Renjiro decided immediately.
Study.
Combat interested him. Information mattered first.
Maps. Law. Guild regulations. Trade. Monster classifications. Local materials. Weapon standards.
He needed all of that before leaving Valentia.
Aurelia looked around. “You are not required to choose today.”
Renjiro already had.
✦ ✦ ✦
He went to the training grounds anyway.
Observation was information.
The grounds occupied a vast courtyard enclosed by galleries and several lower training halls. Weapon racks had been prepared beside the central field.
Swords. Spears. Bows. Shields. Staffs.
No katana.
Unfortunate.
Junpei drifted toward the spear rack.
Mika caught the back of his shirt. “Wait for instructions.”
“I was only looking.”
“With your hands?”
“Enhanced observation.”
“That isn't a thing.”
“It should be.”
Renjiro stood beneath the shade of a stone gallery.
Reina appeared beside him.
He looked at her. “No.”
She frowned. “Again?”
“You were going to ask why I'm not training.”
“I was going to ask why you came if you weren't going to train.”
“Different question.”
“Same answer?”
“Yes.”
“Which is?”
“Observation.”
Reina crossed her arms. “You like fighting.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You've practiced kendo for years.”
“That means I like kendo.”
“You like swords.”
“Yes.”
She stared. “That answer was much faster.”
Renjiro ignored her.
Cassian began with Daiki.
The Knight Commander handed him a wooden sword and corrected his stance. Daiki was athletic, coordinated and quick to understand instructions.
He was not a swordsman.
His grip was too rigid. His shoulders carried unnecessary tension. His feet were positioned as though he expected to sprint rather than cut.
Normal mistakes.
Cassian adjusted them patiently.
Daiki swung.
Golden-white light erupted from the wooden blade.
The practice target exploded.
Silence hit the training ground.
Daiki stared at what remained.
Cassian stared too.
Then Valentian soldiers began cheering.
Several students joined them.
“Holy Hero!”
Daiki looked embarrassed.
Then he smiled.
Above the courtyard, Aurelia watched from a balcony.
Renjiro watched Daiki.
There was nothing malicious in his expression. Nothing arrogant. He was simply eighteen years old, taken from everything familiar and dropped into an impossible world where dozens of armed adults suddenly looked at him as though his existence mattered enormously.
Dangerous.
Not because Daiki was a bad person.
Because environments taught people which versions of themselves received rewards.
Renjiro knew that without needing magic.
Akari went next.
A soldier volunteered for a controlled healing demonstration.
When Cassian made a shallow cut across the man's forearm, Akari recoiled. “You cut him for this?”
The soldier laughed. “This is nothing, Saintess-sama.”
“Please don't do that again.”
“Yes, Saintess-sama.”
“That includes calling me that.”
“Yes, Saintess-sama.”
Akari's eye twitched.
The man's commitment was impressive, if nothing else.
Akari placed both hands above the wound.
White light gathered.
The cut closed.
Silence followed.
Then applause.
Akari stared at her own hands.
Wonder. Fear. Responsibility.
Renjiro recognized the last one.
Shizuka approached immediately.
Akari whispered something to her.
Renjiro could have focused his hearing.
He did not.
Not his business.
Junpei's attempt with a spear followed.
The first thrust missed. The second nearly turned him sideways. Mika laughed.
“Shut up!”
“I didn't say anything!”
“Your face did!”
The third thrust was better. The fourth better again.
Whatever Chronies' Class had integrated into Junpei was assisting coordination and aptitude. It was not replacing practice.
Good.
Training still mattered.
Eventually Cassian noticed Renjiro.
“Kurogane-sama.”
Several heads turned.
Renjiro disliked that immediately.
“Yes?”
“Would you like to try?”
“No, thank you.”
Cassian paused. “There is no shame in beginning without combat aptitude.”
“I know.”
“Then perhaps a sword?”
“No.”
Cassian remained polite. “May I ask why?”
Renjiro looked at the training swords. Straight, broad, designed for a style he did not personally prefer.
“I already have weapon experience.”
Interest appeared. “What discipline?”
“Kendo.”
Cassian frowned.
The word translated phonetically, not conceptually.
“Japanese swordsmanship.”
“What type of blade?”
“Katana.”
Cassian glanced toward the racks. “We have no such weapon prepared.”
“I noticed.”
“Perhaps tomorrow we can arrange something similar.”
“No need.”
Cassian studied him.
Reina spoke beside Renjiro. “He's stubborn.”
Renjiro turned. “Why are you helping?”
“I wasn't.”
Cassian laughed.
Unexpectedly.
“Very well.”
No demand. No humiliation. No attempt to expose the supposedly weak civilian.
Good.
For now.
Aurelia's eyes remained on Renjiro slightly longer than before.
Then Daiki called Cassian back to the field.
Her attention moved instantly.
Low priority.
Keep it that way.
✦ ✦ ✦
Renjiro left before lunch.
Nobody stopped him.
That surprised him slightly.
He did not wander without purpose.
By now he had memorized enough of the palace to reconstruct several routes between the guest wing, training grounds and central halls. From there, he expanded the map.
A left corridor led to servants' stairs. A covered passage connected the eastern courtyard to a supply route. Two doors remained continuously guarded. Another opened toward a kitchen annex without any visible military presence.
He entered no restricted rooms.
There was no need.
Renjiro wanted structure.
Where servants moved. Where supplies entered. Which courtyards connected. How far the guest wing stood from an exterior gate.
Preparation.
Not escape.
Not yet.
He eventually reached a high open courtyard overlooking Aureum.
The city spread beneath him. Carriages moved through broad avenues. Market awnings were opening. Smoke climbed from bakeries and workshops. Small figures gathered at street corners while guards changed posts near a distant gate.
Somewhere down there—the Adventurer Guild.
Renjiro rested one hand on the stone railing.
Freedom was physically close.
Politically, less so.
“Planning your escape?”
Renjiro turned.
Reina.
Again.
“How long have you been following me?”
“I wasn't following you.”
“You're behind me.”
“That isn't evidence.”
Renjiro stared.
Reina realized what she had said.
His eyebrow rose.
“Don't.”
“You used my line.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“Forget it.”
“No.”
She walked to the railing.
Renjiro did not leave.
For a while, neither spoke.
Aureum was beautiful from this height.
That did not mean much.
Eventually Reina asked, “Do you trust them?”
“No.”
Immediate.
She turned. “Not even a little?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“They kidnapped us.”
Reina went quiet.
Fair.
“Daiki thinks they might actually help us.”
“He can think whatever he wants.”
“Akari wants to believe Aurelia-sama.”
“She can.”
“Sensei doesn't.”
Renjiro glanced at her. “You've been watching everyone.”
“So have you.”
True.
Reina returned her gaze to the city. “Aurelia-sama seems kind.”
Renjiro said nothing.
“But?”
“You're asking me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She hesitated. “Because yesterday you looked at her the way you look at a problem you're trying to understand.”
Renjiro's eyes narrowed slightly.
Too observant.
“And?”
“Then you stopped looking interested.”
That had happened after Appraisal.
Reina could not know why.
She had still noticed the behavioural shift.
Troublesome.
“Maybe she wasn't interesting.”
“I don't believe that.”
“You don't have to.”
Reina looked at him. “You really don't care what people think about you.”
“Usually.”
“Even yesterday?”
“The crystal?”
She nodded.
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“No.”
Reina faced the city again. “I would.”
Renjiro waited.
“If everyone else received something extraordinary and I got nothing, I'd care.”
“You didn't get nothing.”
“That isn't my point.”
“I know.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around the railing.
Renjiro understood the actual question.
Not whether he was embarrassed.
Whether he felt left behind.
He didn't.
“That doesn't mean I have to react the same way you would.”
“I know.”
A short silence followed.
Then Reina asked, “Are you actually an Unskilled Civilian?”
Renjiro looked at her.
There was no accusation in her expression. Only curiosity.
Dangerous curiosity.
“That's what the crystal showed.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“No.”
She waited.
Renjiro did too.
Eventually Reina sighed. “You're impossible.”
“So I've been told.”
“By me.”
“Mostly.”
Her mouth almost curved.
Renjiro noticed.
Neither mentioned it.
Bells rang somewhere across the capital. Deep. Heavy. Seven times.
Reina looked toward the sound. “What do you think they mean?”
“I don't know.”
She turned quickly. “You admitted you don't know something.”
“I do that frequently.”
“No, you don't.”
“You ask bad questions.”
“There it is.”
Renjiro looked back toward the city.
The bells stopped.
A carriage approached one of the palace checkpoints below.
Six people walked behind it.
Chains bound their wrists.
Renjiro's eyes shifted.
Animal ears.
One tail.
Beastkin.
Reina saw them too.
Her expression changed.
Neither needed to mention yesterday's murals. Or the palace attendant who had looked at chained Beastkin and believed the word itself explained the chains.
“Those are slaves,” Reina said.
“Yes.”
“You sound calm.”
“Being angry from here doesn't remove the chains.”
Reina turned toward him. “So you don't care?”
Renjiro looked at the prisoners again. Then at her.
“I didn't say that.”
She fell silent.
Renjiro knew nothing about those six people. Not their names. Not where they came from. Not whether they had committed crimes. Not whether Valentian law cared. Not whether their slavery was judicial, hereditary, economic or simply racial.
He refused to invent details because doing so would make outrage easier.
But the facts he did possess were accumulating.
Murals of conquered non-Humans. An attendant confused by objections to Beastkin chains. Valentian religious language presenting Humanity as divinely chosen. Now actual Beastkin entering the palace grounds in restraints.
Patterns.
Not conclusions.
Not yet.
Reina spoke quietly. “I want to know what this place really is.”
Renjiro looked at her. “Then learn.”
“You make everything sound simple.”
“Most things become simpler when you stop pretending you already know the answer.”
She stared at him. “That was annoyingly wise.”
“It wasn't.”
“It was.”
“No.”
Footsteps entered the courtyard.
A palace attendant bowed. “Kurogane-sama.”
Renjiro turned. “Yes?”
“His Imperial Majesty requests your presence.”
Reina looked at him.
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
The attendant hesitated. “Yes.”
Interesting.
“Where?”
“The western audience chamber.”
Renjiro moved away from the railing.
Reina's eyes narrowed. “They're calling you alone.”
“Apparently.”
“That's suspicious.”
“I noticed.”
She looked directly at him. “Try not to antagonize the Emperor.”
Renjiro considered that. “I wasn't planning to.”
Reina blinked. “That was much better than what I expected.”
“I can be reasonable.”
“Sometimes.”
He followed the attendant.
✦ ✦ ✦
The western audience chamber was smaller than the Imperial throne hall.
Private.
No nobles. No students. No audience.
Emperor Aldric sat behind a broad wooden desk.
Malakor stood near one window.
Aurelia sat to her father's right.
Three people.
Renjiro entered.
The door closed behind him.
He noted it.
Aldric gestured toward a chair. “Renjiro Kurogane. Please sit.”
Renjiro sat.
He offered the degree of courtesy expected of someone speaking to a foreign ruler.
Nothing more.
Aldric noticed.
He did not comment.
“Have you been treated well?”
“Yes.”
“The room?”
“Fine.”
“The food?”
“Good.”
“The attendants?”
“Polite.”
A faint smile touched Aldric's face. “You are concise.”
“I've been told.”
Aurelia appeared mildly amused.
Malakor did not.
The Grand Vizier placed several papers on the desk.
Renjiro recognized the top document.
Yesterday's native crystal result.
Malakor spoke. “We tested the Status Crystal repeatedly after your examination.”
Renjiro waited.
“It is functioning correctly.”
“Good.”
Malakor frowned. “You are not surprised.”
“Should I be?”
“Twenty-nine students display foreign divine structures.”
Renjiro said nothing.
“Your teacher displays one as well.”
Still nothing.
“You do not.”
Renjiro looked at him. “You told me that yesterday.”
Aurelia covered a small smile with one hand.
Malakor's expression tightened.
Aldric intervened. “Grand Vizier.”
Malakor stepped back.
The Emperor folded his hands. “We are determining what support should be offered to each summoned individual.”
Support.
Interesting word.
“Those whose foreign designations and demonstrated abilities appear suited to combat will be offered military and magical instruction if they choose to accept it.”
Renjiro nodded.
“Those with healing, defensive or other specialized abilities will receive appropriate education.”
Another nod.
“Your situation is different.”
There it was.
Aldric glanced at the crystal report. “Valentia cannot train abilities our instruments cannot detect and you have not demonstrated.”
“Understandable.”
“However, we can offer another path.”
Renjiro looked at him.
Aurelia spoke. “Land.”
His eyes shifted toward her.
“A small agricultural holding outside Aureum.”
Malakor continued. “Basic tools. Seed. Appropriate instruction.”
Aldric finished. “Housing and an allowance sufficient for initial living expenses would also be considered.”
Renjiro stared at them.
They were offering him a farm.
Actually offering him a farm.
The absurdity almost broke through his expression.
Almost.
Aurelia noticed enough. “You seem surprised.”
“A little.”
“Does the proposal offend you?”
“No.”
That answer seemed to surprise all three of them in different ways.
Malakor frowned. “You understand this would separate you from the principal training program.”
“Yes.”
“You would receive no specialized military instruction.”
“Yes.”
“Restricted magical resources would not be made available to you.”
“Yes.”
“You would effectively live as an ordinary civilian resident of Valentia.”
Renjiro looked at him. “And?”
Malakor stopped.
Aldric's eyes sharpened.
There.
They had expected something else.
Humiliation. Anger. Begging. A demand for another test. Perhaps resentment toward Daiki and the others.
Instead, they had spent several minutes describing a future containing fewer palace officials.
It sounded increasingly attractive.
Aurelia tilted her head. “You truly do not mind?”
“No.”
“Your classmates may become celebrated Heroes.”
“They can.”
“Wealthy.”
“Good for them.”
“Influential.”
“Fine.”
“Admired.”
“That's their business.”
Aurelia studied him.
Her expression remained pleasant.
Her curiosity did not.
Aldric spoke. “You ask for nothing?”
Renjiro looked at the Emperor. “I didn't ask to be summoned.”
Silence.
Malakor's face hardened.
Aurelia's smile disappeared for a fraction of a second.
Aldric laughed once.
Quietly.
“No.”
He leaned back. “You did not.”
Renjiro waited.
“We will not make a final decision today.”
There.
Not expulsion.
Not yet.
Evaluation.
“We wanted to understand your disposition before determining whether such an arrangement would be appropriate.”
Renjiro understood what that actually meant.
They wanted to know whether the useless summoned student would become inconvenient.
Apparently he was failing to provide the emotional response they expected.
“For now,” Aldric said, “remain with your classmates.”
“Understood.”
“Attend the orientation.”
“Yes.”
“Observe their training if you wish.”
“Yes.”
“And consider the agricultural proposal.”
“I will.”
Malakor frowned again. “You have not even heard the proposed location.”
“I'll consider it after I do.”
Aldric smiled faintly. “Reasonable.”
Renjiro stood.
He turned toward the door.
“Kurogane-sama.”
Aurelia.
He stopped. “Yes?”
“Most people would resent being left behind.”
Renjiro considered the statement.
Then answered.
“Only if they wanted to follow.”
For the first time during the meeting, Aurelia's expression became difficult to read.
Renjiro opened the door and left.
✦ ✦ ✦
The western audience chamber remained silent after Renjiro disappeared.
Aurelia watched the closed door.
Grand Vizier Malakor was the first to speak. “He is useless.”
Perhaps.
Yesterday's crystal certainly supported that conclusion.
No recognized foreign divine structure. No exceptional native Job. No Skills. Almost no Mana. A civilian profile so weak that Malakor had tested the artifact again afterward.
Aurelia rested one finger against the arm of her chair.
“His result is clear,” Malakor continued.
“Yes.”
“Then why are you looking at the door?”
Aurelia turned her eyes toward him. “Because results and behaviour are different things.”
Aldric leaned back. “Explain.”
“He does not behave like someone who believes he has lost something.”
“That is hardly suspicious,” Aldric said.
“No.” Aurelia agreed. “It is unusual.”
Malakor shook his head. “A personality quirk.”
“Possibly.”
Aldric looked down at the status report. “Can he be useful?”
“Not as a Hero,” Malakor answered immediately.
“Politically?”
Aurelia considered it. “Very little.”
“Socially?”
“He keeps distance from most of the class.”
“Influence?”
“Minimal.”
Aurelia paused. “Takahashi-sama cares about him because he is her student. Shirakawa Reina observes him more than she does most of the others.”
Aldric caught the wording. “Observes?”
“Curiosity.”
Malakor's irritation increased. “Why does any of this matter?”
“Because removing someone from a group changes the group.”
The Grand Vizier went quiet.
Aurelia looked toward the papers.
If Kurogane were simply thrown outside the palace because Valentia considered him worthless, Takahashi Shizuka would oppose it immediately. Perhaps several students would as well.
That served no purpose.
“If Kurogane-sama is eventually separated from the others,” Aurelia said, “it should feel natural.”
Aldric understood. “No resentment.”
“Preferably gratitude.”
Malakor looked at the proposal. “A farm.”
“A generous civilian solution for an unfortunate young man unsuited to the role Valentia originally hoped he might fill.”
“And if Takahashi-sama objects?” Aldric asked.
“We assure her he has housing.”
“If the students ask?”
“Land.”
“Money.”
“Support.”
Malakor slowly understood. “And he leaves the Hero training program without Valentia appearing to abandon one of the summoned students.”
Aurelia smiled.
The same gentle expression she had worn before Class 3-B.
“Why would we abandon him?”
Aldric watched his daughter for several seconds.
Then nodded. “Proceed carefully.”
“Of course, Father.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Renjiro walked through the palace corridor.
He had not heard the discussion behind the closed doors.
He did not need to.
The offer itself was enough.
Agricultural land. Housing. An allowance. Outside the capital. Away from the Hero training program. No military schedule. No reason to remain attached to Valentia's plans.
If the Empire intended to discard him politely, that might save him the trouble of forcing distance himself.
Renjiro's pace remained unchanged.
There was no reason to celebrate before anything was finalized.
Valentia had already demonstrated that pleasant words and actual intentions were different things.
He would wait.
Observe.
Verify.
Then decide.
His thoughts moved toward something considerably more interesting.
The Adventurer Guild.
Ranks. Quests. Monster materials. Ruins. Labyrinths. Independent registration.
A real fantasy-world Guild operating somewhere beyond the palace walls.
Renjiro looked toward a tall window at the end of the corridor.
Aureum stretched beyond it beneath the morning sun.
For the first time since arriving in Asteria, Renjiro Kurogane had something resembling a plan.
First, let Valentia decide he was worthless.
Then—
get out.
End of Chapter 9