By nature, every mortal—particularly those of the human race—awakens their Mana Core between the ages of eight and ten. Those who do are known as Fantasia. It is the age of wonder, a time when human children pass through the gates of the magical world and step into the possibilities of a future as Mages.
But for those who reach past the age of ten without awakening it... that hope vanishes. They are deemed Non-Fantasia—forever separated from the path of magic, fated to remain outsiders.
Adrian Nightwork had long since crossed that threshold. He was now twelve years old, and the dream of magic had been buried long ago. Or... at least, that was how it was supposed to be. Because what had happened today defied every known law of magic.
He now sat stiffly in a worn wooden chair inside The Bronze Tiara—a shop thick with the scents of dried herbs and faintly glowing reagents—feeling the invisible weight of the two adults standing before him: Franz Erlbaum—his broad-shouldered uncle—and Elma, the shop owner and one of the village's most respected Mages. Their gazes were sharp, and the silence made him more nervous than any scolding could.
'So this is what it feels like right before you get executed...' Adrian thought. His palms were cold, sweat trickled down his temples, and his body was as rigid as a statue.
"This is… impossible," said Elma, touching her chin thoughtfully. Her eyes were keen, but beneath them flickered curiosity. "There has never been a single record of anyone awakening a Mana Core past the age of ten."
"That's why I brought him here, Miss Elma," Franz responded calmly, though the calculating glint in his eyes gave away his concern.
Adrian could only sit there in silence. 'Am I going to be punished for ruining the river's ecosystem?' he thought anxiously, wiping a bead of cold sweat from his temple. He glanced over at Jerome, who sat way in the back, pretending to be utterly uninvolved.
'Help me, Jerome… at least look at me!'
But Jerome only turned away, examining a potion bottle with exaggerated interest.
'Jerome!!! I thought we were brothers-in-arms!'
If not for the dignity of manhood, Adrian might've cried right then and there.
"If I'm not mistaken, around eleven this morning, Adrian and Jerome came to this shop to buy magical materials," Elma began, glancing over her glasses at Franz.
Franz raised an eyebrow. "Magical materials?"
Elma nodded and listed calmly, "Northern Dragon's Blood and a Holy Crystal."
Franz slowly turned to look at Adrian, his stare cold enough to drop the room's temperature.
"What exactly were you doing this afternoon, Adrian?" Franz asked flatly. But to Adrian's ears, it echoed like a royal inquisitor's demand.
"I-I… nothing! Me and Jerome... We're just fishing!" Adrian lied quickly, hoping his excuse sounded even remotely plausible.
Forgive me, Jerome. If we're going down, we're going down together.
Jerome choked on air the moment his name was dragged in.
"Fishing? You were going to fish using a Holy Crystal and Dragon's Blood? Were you trying to summon the gods from the heavens!?" Franz growled, unintentionally releasing an aura strong enough to make a dire wolf roll over in fear.
Finally, Adrian cracked. He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright! I'll come clean! I followed a ritual to awaken my Mana Core from a book I found in the basement!"
"A book?" Franz and Elma exclaimed in unison.
Jerome stepped forward and handed over a worn, tattered book titled Basic Guide: How to Unlock Your Mana Core. Franz opened it to the first page… then the second… then the third…
Blank.
Every page was just plain parchment. Not a single letter.
"There's… nothing here," Franz narrowed his eyes. Elma leaned in over his shoulder. "Adrian, are you sure? This book is… empty."
"W-what?! No way!" Adrian jumped to his feet. He knew what he'd read. He knew what he'd done. Even Jerome had seen the writing!
Franz closed the book slowly. His face was serious—but not angry. "I don't know if you were hallucinating, or if something far greater is at play here. But one thing is certain—you've awakened your Mana Core, Adrian. As impossible as it is… it's real."
Elma let out a slow breath, drawing a star-shaped symbol across her chest. "Praise the Goddess… miracles like this are exceedingly rare."
Franz gave a final nod and said, "You can go home now and get some rest. After awakening a Mana Core, the body is completely drained. It'll take time for your system to adjust."
Adrian nodded quietly. Only now did he realize how exhausted he truly was. His legs were heavy, his muscles trembling. But there was still one question that had been bugging him from the start.
"Umm… am I… going to be punished?"
"Huh? Punished?" Franz tilted his head.
"For… damaging the Sanbrough River ecosystem?" Adrian mumbled, barely audible.
Silence.
Then, Elma burst out laughing. Loud and unrestrained, her icy demeanor was momentarily replaced by something far warmer and more alive.
Franz allowed a faint smile as he explained, "Adrian, you're not going to be punished. In fact, the villagers… are thankful. Thanks to your mana explosion, the fish thrown ashore will now become the main dish at the Aestas Festival."
"WHAT?!"
Adrian's eyes bulged in disbelief. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or utterly humiliated.
He turned toward Jerome. "You knew this all along, didn't you?!"
Jerome grinned innocently. "Sorry, Adrian. I just wanted to see you panic a little. They say stress helps you adapt to your Mana Core faster."
Adrian clenched his fists. "Are you really my best friend… or some tiny demon in disguise…?"
***
The footsteps of Adrian and Jerome faded away from the doorway of The Bronze Tiara, leaving behind a silence that was peaceful, yet heavy with meaning. Elma let out a relieved sigh, allowing the air in the room to settle once more after the tense and unexpected interrogation.
But when her eyes drifted toward Franz, she found the man still standing motionless. His gaze was distant, fixed on an unseen space, as if his thoughts had wandered somewhere far... and dark.
"Sir Erlbaum?" Elma called softly, ensuring he was still present in this world.
"Hm? Yes?" Franz blinked twice, abruptly snapping back to reality.
"You seem... uneasy. What is it? Does it have something to do with Adrian's Mana Core awakening?" Elma leaned in, her voice laced with genuine concern. She knew Franz wasn't a man who faltered easily—if he looked burdened, there had to be something much deeper beneath the surface.
Franz tapped the center of his forehead twice with his index finger—a long-time habit whenever he was deep in thought. "It does... but there's nothing to worry about," he said, though the words sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself than answering Elma.
Elma crossed her arms. "If it's about that boy, I see no reason to worry. Even if his awakening defies all known magical laws, this might just be… a blessing from the Eternal Light Goddess. Sometimes, miracles come from the most unexpected places."
Franz nodded slowly. "Yes... perhaps I am overthinking it. Thank you, Miss Elma."
A warm smile spread across Elma's face. "Oh, and one more thing. I believe we should report this incident to the Aterra Magic Association as soon as possible. This will shake the entire kingdom. The Mages won't stay silent once word gets out that someone awakened a Mana Core at the age of twelve."
Franz let out a long sigh. He knew Elma was right. If they didn't report it, the information would spread through unofficial channels—and that would be far more dangerous. "Perhaps that's for the best. Very well, I'll begin drafting the report tonight."
He gave a courteous bow. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Elma. There's still much to prepare for the festival."
Leaving the shop, Franz walked along the cobblestone path of Rockville Village. The evening breeze swept across his face, carrying with it the scent of earth, wood, and the fading warmth of day. The setting sun bathed rooftops in a soft golden hue. Children laughed in the distance, and villagers were still busy erecting tents and lanterns for the Aestas Festival, which was just a week away.
But amidst all that peaceful bustle, Franz's heart remained restless.
He lowered his head slightly, staring at his elongated shadow stretched across the path. A quiet voice echoed inside his thoughts.
'It can't be… that seal… couldn't have broken on its own. I sealed his Mana Core when he was just a toddler. And it wasn't ordinary magic—it was high-level sealing magic, meant to hide his existence from their eyes…'
Franz narrowed his eyes. That organization. Ghosts of the past that had never truly vanished. He clenched his jaw as the memory of the night he sealed Adrian's Dormant Core crept back into his mind.
'Maybe his Mana was too dense… too immense. A Core that's been absorbing energy since childhood with no outlet… of course it would erupt like a time bomb once awakened…'
He tightened the glove on his right hand, his expression hardening. Franz didn't yet realize that Adrian's Mana Core hadn't awakened on its own like a bomb—it was the ritual Adrian performed that triggered it.
'Could this be... the potential of Leonantus' Descendants?'
The thought made his skin crawl. He had never forgotten who Adrian's real father was—a name that must never be spoken aloud, not even in prayer.
'A large Mana Core… rich with Mana like this… could be a blessing, or a curse.'
Franz looked up at the sky, now tinged orange. The evening breeze blew gently as if reminding him that time moves forward, and danger could strike at any moment.
'If that organization learns of his existence... if they discover that Adrian is still alive… I must protect that boy. Even if it means facing them again.'
He came to a halt, his gaze distant.
'Should I contact His Majesty Vaeril… now?'
The question hung in the air, unanswered. But one thing was certain—Franz would not allow history to repeat its wounds.
Taking a deep breath, he resumed his walk toward the village square, where townsfolk continued preparing the stage, lanterns, and tents.
The time was five in the evening. The sky burned deeper orange, and the villagers' shadows stretched long. Though the scene appeared calm, Franz knew… the storm had already begun to gather far beyond the horizon.
***
Night had gently blanketed the village of Rockville in its dark embrace. Yet instead of silence, the village streets were still alive with the cheerful bustle of villagers in the town center—setting up tents and hanging lanterns in preparation for the Aestas Festival, now only days away.
Along the cobbled path lit by the warm glow of house lanterns, two teenage silhouettes walked side by side, strolling leisurely on their way home.
Jerome broke the silence, his voice casual but tinged with amusement. "I honestly didn't think the ritual would actually work, you know. I figured... well, you'd probably die doing it."
Adrian shot him an annoyed look. "And you say that so casually..."
Jerome shrugged as if innocent. "Hey, you're the one who said, 'If we don't try, how will we ever know?'" He mimicked Adrian's voice and expression from earlier that morning with impressive accuracy.
Adrian let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. My bad."
Even so, he still found it hard to believe that the ritual had truly succeeded. He had lived for twelve years on Earth, and only now could he feel the genuine pulse of magic flowing through his body since he arrived in this world. The sensation was... incredible, surging like a powerful current through his veins.
But one thing continued to puzzle him—the book. Basic Guide: How to Unlock Your Mana Core. At first, it had been filled with complex instructions and magical diagrams, but when he showed it to Franz and Elma... it was blank. Empty, as if it had never contained anything at all. Why was it that only he and Jerome could read it?
Adrian shook his head slightly, trying to dispel the questions spinning in his mind.
At that moment, Jerome looked up at the night sky. Stars were scattered like shards of glass across the dark canvas, while the lanterns hanging from the houses bathed the village in a warm glow.
"Nights like this remind me of a nursery rhyme..." he said softly.
Adrian glanced at him. "A nursery rhyme?"
Jerome nodded slowly. "Back when I was little, a nun at the orphanage used to sing it to us. To scare us into going to sleep. And... it worked."
He gave a wry smile. Like Adrian, Jerome was also an orphan. The difference was, that Jerome had been abandoned as a baby and raised by nuns in the Church of the Eternal Light Goddess. That nursery rhyme had become a part of his hazy yet enduring childhood memories.
"It was called Don't Say the Crow's Name."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "What kind of title is that? Sounds... weird."
"Are you serious? You've never heard of it? That nursery rhyme's been around since the Third Age, and now we're in the Fifth. It's pretty well known, you know." Jerome looked at him, puzzled.
'Of course, I don't know it. I'm not from this world,' Adrian muttered inwardly, though he kept silent.
"So how does it go?"
Jerome looked to the sky before slowly beginning to recite the nursery rhyme. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, yet each word carried an invisible chill.
"Close the windows, snuff the flame,In silent night they softly came.Their robes are black, their steps are still,Nox Crows dance beneath the chill."
Adrian frowned. "That's... a strange verse."
But Jerome continued as if pulled into the nursery rhyme's haunting rhythm from his childhood.
"Speak not their name aloud,Don't answer whispers in the cloud.Or the crow on your rooftop perchWill summon death to end your search."
"Your head will fall, your soul will flee,For naughty kids make shadow's feast.So sleep, my dear, close both your eyes,Before the clock strikes midnight."
As he finished the final stanza, Jerome let out a long breath. "And that's it."
Adrian stared at him, stunned, then chuckled softly. "No wonder the kids went to sleep right away. That's not a nursery rhyme—that's a veiled curse. Brutal."
Jerome laughed too, though a faint trace of unease lingered in his voice. "Yeah, imagine hearing that every night before bed, for years."
Adrian smirked. "Sounds like your real problem is just being a scaredy-cat."
Jerome turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Then let me ask you this... did you ever feel afraid when you were little?"
That question brought Adrian's steps to a brief halt. He lowered his gaze, eyes distant.
'Did I ever feel afraid as a child...? But... that wasn't me. That was the real Adrian. And I—'
He raised his head and smiled, hiding the slight tremor that had stirred inside him. "Of course. I'm human too, you know."
Jerome didn't respond, only offering a faint smile as he continued walking beside him.
The two of them resumed their walk home, letting the night once again embrace them in the whispers of wind and the glow of lanterns. Amid the laughter and casual banter, Adrian quietly realized—there was something about that poem, disguised as a simple childhood lullaby, that hinted at something darker. Maybe even something real.
But for now, he didn't care to dwell on it. The world called Aterra was already far stranger than anything he had known on Earth.
***
Adrian and Jerome finally arrived in front of the modest wooden house where Adrian lived with Franz. Under the dim glow of the village lanterns, they exchanged a brief farewell before Jerome disappeared into the night, leaving Adrian alone in front of the darkened home.
Franz, who had been busy since morning, hadn't returned to light the oil lamps and lanterns. The house looked empty, cold, and dim—almost as if it were waiting for its occupant to come home.
With some effort, Adrian lit each lamp and lantern one by one. Slowly, the warm light crept into the corners of the house, chasing away the darkness that had settled.
His stomach suddenly growled, reminding him of one important fact—he hadn't eaten anything since morning. He sighed and headed to the kitchen, checking the pantry. A few simple ingredients remained: potatoes, carrots, a bit of meat, and some local spices.
"Curry doesn't sound too bad."
With practiced ease—thanks to memories from his past life on Earth—Adrian began cooking. The scent of sautéed spices filled the air, bringing a kind of warmth that lantern light could never offer. He smiled faintly after tasting the result—it was good enough to satisfy his hunger.
He set aside half of the curry, leaving it in the pot with a tight lid. Franz would likely return late, and at the very least, a warm meal would be waiting for him.
Afterward, Adrian climbed the stairs to the second floor. His steps were slow and heavy as if his body knew that the bed was the only refuge where he could finally rest.
The simple room greeted him with silence. He dropped onto the bed, stared at the wooden ceiling, and let his thoughts drift away.
Just a few days ago, he had still been Rafael—a regular young man from Earth, worn out by the monotony of modern life. He remembered falling asleep from sheer exhaustion, only to wake up as Adrian Nightwork, the protagonist of that novel.
'What happened to my body back on Earth...? Am I presumed dead? Missing?'
His thoughts shifted to what had happened earlier that day—about the book Basic Guide: How to Unlock Your Mana Core. He clearly remembered it containing twenty full pages… Yet when Franz and Elma examined it, all the pages were blank. As if… the book had hidden itself from them.
With a growing sense of curiosity, Adrian got up from the bed and walked to the wardrobe where he kept the book. His hand reached for the dark-covered tome and opened it.
"Still blank... but..."
His eyes widened. "Three pages...? That's impossible. It had twenty full pages this morning!"
He frowned. A strange feeling crept into his chest. Was the book alive? Or was something—or someone—assisting it?
'Is this... the work of an entity?'
That question was like a trigger.
Suddenly, the world around him began to tremble, and a sharp dizziness slammed into his head. He tried to resist, but an unknown force dragged him out of reality.
A blinding white light exploded around him, replacing the small bedroom with a vast, boundless expanse filled with radiant light from no apparent source. There was no floor, no sky—just glowing emptiness.
Adrian gasped. 'What is this...? Did the entity bring me here?'
A voice echoed, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once, yet somehow intimately close.
"Exactly."
Adrian spun around quickly.
There stood a mysterious figure—tall, cloaked in a shimmering, bluish-purple robe that glowed softly under the light. The hood concealed their face, forming a silhouette with no identity. But what was most unsettling was the gentle smile—not threatening, but not entirely comforting either.
"Who are you!?" Adrian demanded sharply.
"I... am no one," the voice answered calmly. "But you may call me... Agoris."
Agoris stepped forward with movements as smooth as mist. "And yes, you're right. I was the one who brought you to this world. To Aterra."
Adrian clenched his fists. "Send me back to Earth!"
Agoris looked at him, though its face remained hidden. "Do you truly wish to return...?"
Adrian fell silent. The question echoed inside him. But he nodded. "Yes."
"I'm afraid you cannot," Agoris replied lightly. "Because your fate... is now bound to this world."
"What do you mean?"
Agoris slowly raised a hand, and from the empty air appeared strands of light—threads of fate—that wrapped around Adrian's body.
"This world—Aterra—is not just fiction. It is a real world. I merely rewrote its story into a novel, a vessel titled Soul Fantasy, and sent it to your world... to Earth."
Adrian began piecing things together in his mind.
"So... you're the one who made me buy the novel? You wrote it? All of this... was your plan?"
"Correct," Agoris answered. "I wrote the story to draw you in, to make you buy it without realizing... and eventually merge with the original Adrian Nightwork's body."
His heart pounded. So everything had been orchestrated from the beginning. The entity known as Agoris had written and designed his fate perfectly—guiding Rafael from Earth to replace Adrian Nightwork in Aterra.
But one major question still remained...
"Why? Why did you do all this!?"
Agoris only smiled.
"That question... is not for you to know yet."
Suddenly, the light around them began to crack like a mirror struck by a hammer. A soft, high-pitched hum accompanied the fracturing of the white space.
"Our time is up."
"Wait! I'm not done yet!" Adrian shouted.
"We'll meet again, Adrian Nightwork. When the time is right."
And in an instant, everything vanished.
Adrian awoke, now on the floor. His breath was ragged, as though he had just escaped a nightmare he couldn't explain. But he knew—it wasn't a dream.
His hand was still holding the now-blank book. His body felt light, but his mind was racing.
'Agoris... Fate... This world is real...'
There were no answers behind doors or under blankets. But Adrian knew one thing had changed—he was no longer Rafael lost inside a novel's plot.
He was Adrian Nightwork.
And his destiny... had only just begun.