Volume 01, Chapter 01

  Welcome to Sylvestria [1]

  Everything is dark. An endless abyss stretches out in every direction, silent and cold. The void is oppressive, a heavy nothingness that seeps into every corner of my mind.

  But then, faintly at first, I catch something—an unexpected, soothing scent—vender.

  It’s subtle yet persistent, weaving through the emptiness.

  -Fwoosh!

  A warm breeze brushes against my skin, carrying the faintest hint of sunshine. The sensation is so vivid, so comforting, that it startles me.

  It’s the complete opposite of the cold, lonely abyss surrounding me.

  I cautiously open my eyes, expecting to see the aftermath of the accident—a mangled car, blood, and maybe even a hospital ceiling. Instead, I find myself lying in an unfamiliar bedroom, bathed in a soft, golden light.

  The room is quiet and elegant, with a soft, peaceful feel. The walls are painted cream and light blue, with old-fashioned trim adding a touch of history. I lie in a canopy bed with light, sheer curtains that gently sway. Across the room, a vintage writing desk stands near a rge window, covered with ce curtains.

  Outside, fields of vender stretch into the distance beneath a calm, sunny sky.

  The room is too perfect to be real, like something plucked from a dream—or a painting.

  “Am I… dreaming?” I murmur; my voice is hoarse and uncertain.

  The question hangs in the quiet air, unanswered.

  I should be dead—or at least in a hospital bed. My body should hurt, and my mind should be filled with fear and regret. But here, in this peaceful pce, I feel none of that.

  Before I can make sense of where I am, something even stranger happens.

  Info

  Name: Dominic E?eforteAge: 15Title: None

  Stats

  Strength: 20 (E-)Endurance: 19 (E-)Agility: 51 (E)Mana: 0 (F)Luck: 402 (C+)Instinct: 747 (A+)Charisma: 362 (C)

  A soft hum fills the air as a red holographic screen suddenly appears in front of me, glowing faintly. Letters and numbers flicker on its surface, pulsing like they’re alive.

  My breath catches, and my heart races as I stare at the screen. Glowing words float in the air—real, but I don’t understand them. What... is this?

  The name and stats aren’t mine. Dominic E?eforte? That’s not me. I’m Crk Williams. I work at a karaoke bar and I’m just trying to help my parents pay off debt.

  I scan the screen again, confused.

  “What does this even mean?” I mutter, my voice unsteady.

  Without thinking, I reach out and touch the screen. It glows brighter for a moment, then fades, like it responded to me.

  A strange thought creeps in. This isn’t a dream. It’s something else. Something real.

  I look around the room—and then I spot a mirror by the dresser.

  The person staring back isn’t me. Bck hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin… It’s a face that feels too perfect, too unreal.

  But somehow… I look kind of amazing?

  The thought slips into my mind before I can stop it, and I start to study the reflection more closely. The sharp jawline, smooth skin, and striking eyes—it’s a face that draws attention, almost too perfect to be real.

  But this isn’t the person I used to be.

  For all its beauty, the body feels… weak. Thin arms, narrow shoulders. It looks like it’s never trained, never had to fight or struggle. Like strength was never something it needed—or cared about.

  And yet, the reflection moves exactly as I do—every blink, every twitch, every uncertain touch—echoed perfectly. It’s real. Somehow, impossibly, I’m in this unfamiliar form now.

  I sit down on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking slightly beneath me. My fingers trail over the soft fabric of the bnket, grounding me in the moment. I gnce down at my legs—slim, pale, and unfamiliar.

  “Welp,” I mutter, “Dominic skipped leg day.”

  The moment of ughter fades quickly. As I try to stand up, a wave of pain and dizziness hits me like a crashing wave. My knees give out, and I fall to the floor.

  The room spins around me, everything blurring together. A sharp, pounding headache grips my head, each throb feeling like fire.

  “Haa… haa…”

  I gasp for air, my breathing uneven. Time seems to slow down—every second dragging on while the pain continues. Finally, like a storm passing, it starts to fade. I’m left lying on the cold floor, shaking and weak.

  After a few minutes, I gather the strength to get up.

  -Creaaak!

  The bedroom door opens, and a woman walks in. She has long bck hair that flows down her back, shining in the morning light. Her sky-blue eyes look just like the ones I saw earlier in the mirror, and her skin is pale and glowing.

  There’s no doubt—we look alike. She must be my mother in this world.

  She hurries over, worry written on her face. “Dominic, are you okay? I heard a loud noise from downstairs,” she says. Her voice is gentle and warm, but filled with concern.

  She kneels beside me and gently touches my forehead, like a mother checking for a fever. The simple act feels familiar—like something I’ve known all my life.

  “Dominic?” she says again, softly.

  So many feelings crash over me—confusion, fear, and curiosity. But the kindness in her eyes calms me. I know I can’t tell her the truth yet. She’d never believe it.

  “…Yes, Mum. I’m okay,” I say at st. The words feel strange in my mouth, but they fit somehow.

  She looks at me closely, searching my face. For a moment, I think she knows something’s wrong. But then she rexes and smiles a little.

  “Be careful, dear. If something’s wrong, promise me you’ll tell me. You can always talk to me, okay?”

  I nod, forcing a small smile. “I will, Mum. It was just a bit of dizziness—nothing serious.”

  She looks relieved, smiling warmly—there’s love in that smile, the kind that feels comforting but also a little sad.“All right, then. Breakfast will be ready soon. Don’t take too long, or you’ll be te for school,” she says as she stands up, smoothing out her dress with practiced ease.

  She gives me one st affectionate gnce before walking out. The soft click of the door closing leaves me alone again in the quiet room.

  I take a deep breath.

  Dominic E?eforte. That’s who I am now.

  Her mention of school sticks in my head. I don’t know what to expect. What kind of life does Dominic live? What kind of world is this? And what exactly is waiting for me?

  Dominic’s mother seems kind, like someone I could trust. She's my only anchor right now in all this confusion. But her presence also makes it clear—this isn't just a dream. I’m not just visiting his body. I’m supposed to live as him.

  I let out another deep breath, steadier this time, and stand up. I have to start figuring things out—who Dominic is, what his life looks like, and how to get through the day.

  First step: school. It might hold the answers I need.

  I turn to the mirror again, staring into Dominic’s face.

  “All right, Dominic E?eforte,” I whisper. “Let’s find out who you really are.”

  Curious, I begin exploring the room.

  On the desk, a framed photo catches my eye. I pick it up. In the picture, Dominic’s mom stands beside a strong, handsome man with sharp eyes and brown hair. He looks confident, like someone who could walk into any room and own it.

  “If that’s Dad,” I mutter, smirking a little, “I hope I end up looking like him.”

  I set the photo down and look at the rest of the desk—textbooks, a school schedule, and three gold medals neatly arranged. The book titles jump out at me: Advanced Mana Theory, Elemental Magic.

  “…Wait. Am I in a world with magic?” I whisper.

  Heart pounding, I move to the nearby bookshelf. My eyes scan the titles until one makes me stop cold: History of Sylvestria.

  My jaw drops.

  No way.

  This world—it’s not random. It’s Sylvestria. The world from ‘A Magician’s Path.’

  This can't be a coincidence.

  Am I here because I loved the story? Is this real? Or some kind of dream I’ll wake up from?

  Still reeling, I flip through the history book. The pages talk about Camille Rousseau, the war against demons, and the rise of magic—everything I knew from the story. Only now, it’s presented like real history.

  I gnce back at the other textbooks. This is my life now—mana theory, magic spells, and a world I only thought existed in fiction.

  And somehow… I’m part of it.

  “Wait… if I’m in Sylvestria…”

  The words trail off as my chest tightens. I remember the dangers looming over this world.

  The Umbrascourge—the remnants of demonic forces—pns to unleash chaos across Sylvestria. If the timeline matches the novel, this peaceful moment is the calm before the storm.

  Turning to the glowing stats screen still hovering in the air, I reexamine Dominic’s information:

  Info

  Name: Dominic E?eforteAge: 15Title: None

  Stats

  Strength: 20 (E-)Endurance: 19 (E-)Agility: 51 (E)Mana: 0 (F)Luck: 402 (C+)Instinct: 747 (A+)Charisma: 362 (C)

  I sighed deeply as the truth hit me—I’m one of the Manaless in Sylvestria, a world where magic decided everything.

  Here, people fall into three groups:

  Magicians are born with magic.Manaficials gain magic through advanced technology.Manaless, like me, have no magic at all—and are treated like we don’t matter.Camille tried to make magic avaible to everyone, but it didn’t work out. Technology can turn the Manaless into Manaficials, but it costs a fortune in Camilliums, a currency named after Camille Rousseau herself.

  But I know a secret. A Magician’s Path mentions a hidden way to become a Manaficial without needing all that money. Path that most people don’t know exist.

  I gnce at the calendar: March 9th, 2120.

  “One year until the story begins…”

  I still have time. Time to get stronger, learn the world, and use my knowledge to stay ahead—and maybe even change how things unfold.

  “Dominic, breakfast is ready!”

  My mother’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

  “Coming, Mum!” I answer.

  The future can wait a little. Right now, I’m just a 15-year-old boy in a new world. I don’t even know what school looks like here, or what kind of challenges I’ll face.

  But I’m ready to find out.

  With a deep breath, I head toward the door, ready to take on the day.