The air of relief was thick as Kael and Ruden finally returned to the village. The hunt had been dangerous, but the spoils were worth it. After selling the parts they collected from the bat, they received a decent sum. The village, once tense and fearful, seemed to relax, their expressions lighter. Yet, amid the bustling marketplace, Kael felt something off.

  His palm tingled—the mark. It had grown. Not only that, but it was moving, circulating the M.P. around him and refining it into pure magic. That explained why he had suffered far less damage than Ruden during the battle. The mark was acting as a shield, purifying the chaotic energy before it could harm him.

  Curious, Kael withdrew to a quieter place and began analyzing the magic formula behind it. His eyes widened. A tenth-chain spell. That was already beyond what most high-tier mages could wield. Yet, something wasn’t right—it wasn’t behaving like a normal spell. Instead, it was sending signals—electromagnetic pulses radiating into the distance, as if reaching out.

  Somewhere far away, someone received the signal.

  A figure stood in the darkness, eyes narrowing as magical instruments hummed and flickered with the reception. A smirk formed on their lips.

  "So, we found you… Last Hero."

  Kael didn’t dwell on it. There was no immediate danger, and there were more pressing matters—such as his unexpected acceptance within the village. The elders, once dismissive, had changed their stance.

  The village chief, who had been cautious of Kael before, now saw him in a different light. After all, he had unknowingly prevented a catastrophic event for them. Even Ruden was being thanked—his bravery earned him a nomination as a candidate for the next village chief, though he now had to compete with the other chefs for the position.

  Kael, however, didn’t react to the gratitude. He never did. He always wore the same blank expression, his emotions buried deep. The only time he showed any sentiment was out of respect—toward people and even the creatures he hunted. But happiness? Sadness? Anger? They never surfaced. Even when he had been banished from the village, he had felt nothing.

  The sound of hooves and clanking metal broke the moment. A carriage, flanked by mages on horseback, rolled into the village. Their shields, embedded with magical artifacts, radiated energy—these were not ordinary weapons. They were specifically designed to circulate M.P., preventing the high magic density from affecting the carriage itself.

  Kael watched with interest. That was the very reason he had stayed in the village for so long. He never thought he could survive outside the high M.P. zones. Yet, despite the magical turbulence, his mark had allowed him to endure.

  A man dismounted.

  His blue hair was slightly unkempt, his black t-shirt torn at the edges. Despite his middle-aged appearance, his eyes were sharp, analyzing Kael with an amused smirk.

  He crossed his arms. “Hmm… not bad for a starter.”

  Kael’s Departure

  Their conversation was brief, but direct. Kael, as always, didn’t hesitate to ask questions. His curiosity was unfiltered—who were they? Why did they come? What did they want?

  The blue-haired man gave only vague answers. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  There was little time to argue. Kael turned to Ruden, offering him a short but meaningful nod. Ruden had been the closest thing to a friend he had in this village. They didn’t need words to understand the farewell.

  Then, Kael left with the mages.

  The journey was quiet at first, but Kael couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. The carriage, the mages, the secrecy—everything was suspicious. Yet, none of them seemed hostile. They weren’t treating him as an enemy. They were treating him as… something else.

  Arrival at the Gate

  When they reached the city gates, Kael finally saw something that made him pause.

  Golems.

  Towering, menacing constructs of metal and stone stood as guards. Unlike ordinary magic constructs, these were alive in a way. Their cores pulsed with ancient magic, their very presence radiating power.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  Kael’s instincts screamed at him—he couldn’t win against them.

  If the bat had been a challenge, these were on an entirely different level. He wasn’t arrogant. He knew he was still weak. But knowing it firsthand, witnessing such an undeniable gap in strength, made it real.

  The golems scanned them, detecting the magic fluctuations in their bodies. Then, after determining their identities, the massive stone gates groaned open, welcoming them inside.

  Kael stepped out of the carriage and was escorted by the man into a grand church

  The grand hall of the Holy Church of Uppretas was vast, its ceiling stretching impossibly high, adorned with golden murals depicting ancient battles between angels and demons. The air was thick with sacred energy, almost suffocating. Kael stood before the pope, alongside seven others.

  The pope, an aged man dressed in elaborate white and gold robes, watched them with an unreadable expression. His presence alone radiated authority, and the bishops, priests, and high-ranking mages surrounding him seemed to hang on his every word.

  Then, in a solemn tone, the pope spoke. "You are the last hero to be chosen."

  Kael remained expressionless.

  He traveled from village to village, but the title of ‘hero’ meant nothing to him. He had heard myths, of course, but none of them had ever seemed relevant to his life. What exactly was a hero supposed to be?

  A woman stepped forward—her very presence felt different. She was dressed in silver priestess robes, a sacred aura surrounding her. The Saint of Uppretas. She looked at Kael with a mixture of reverence and curiosity before speaking.

  "Let me explain"

  "One hundred and twenty-nine years ago, the world stood on the brink of destruction."

  The saint’s voice echoed through the grand chamber, her words carrying the weight of history.

  "Most people did not have magic, and the demon hordes attacked relentlessly. The world was on the verge of collapse—until the god Uppretas answered our prayers."

  A magic circle, immense and radiant, had appeared in the sky—a conduit connecting the god to his believers. As it descended, a blinding light engulfed the land. From within the light, a small idol emerged.

  Kael’s eyes narrowed. A toy?

  At first glance, the idol was no more than a figurine—an angel wrapped entirely in cloth, as if concealing something beneath. But its significance was far greater.

  "This idol contained the genetic blueprint of an angel," the saint continued. "It was capable of reconstructing every cell of a human, turning them into something beyond mortal comprehension."

  The first Angel of Humanity was born.

  With powers unknown to both demons and humans, the angel ended the war single-handedly. Yet, upon realizing his own death was inevitable, he made a deal with Riovana, the God of Destiny.

  "From that day forward, eight heroes were destined to rise… the ones who would defeat the Demon King."

  The room was silent. The weight of the prophecy hung over them all.

  But something gnawed at Kael.

  A blond-haired young man stepped forward, a royal insignia shining on his ornate armor. His gaze was sharp, his posture regal.

  Prince Adalric.

  A natural-born leader, his very presence commanded attention. He was arrogant, but not reckless. He turned to the pope and asked, "So what does this mean for us?"

  The pope’s voice was unwavering.

  "You are not heroes yet."

  A murmur spread among the candidates.

  "You will face many obstacles before you can be recognized as true heroes. And even then… there is no guarantee all eight of you will make it."

  Kael listened in silence, then finally spoke.

  "Even if we kill the Demon King, what happens next?"

  The room froze.

  Kael continued, his tone as blank as ever.

  "The demon army doesn’t die with him. They can just elect a new king. And if a battle of that scale happens, the sheer amount of M.P. released could turn an entire continent upside down."

  The hall fell into an unsettling silence. Not a single bishop, priest, or high-ranking mage had an answer.

  Even the saint seemed at a loss for words.

  Finally, the pope’s expression darkened. His fingers curled around his staff, and his voice carried a dangerous edge.

  "You dare doubt the prophecy?"

  Kael’s blank expression didn’t waver.

  "This can be considered treason," the pope declared. "If you ever question the prophecy again, you will be labeled a demon’s pawn."

  Kael said nothing. But in his mind, he made a mental note to never forget this

  The tension passed as the pope moved on. "Until you become true heroes, you will be separated. Each of you must face your challenges alone."

  A glowing magic circle appeared above them.

  "As a gift from our god, the Hero’s Mark will grant you your first skill."

  The mark engraved on their palms reacted, glowing with divine power. These were passive skills, never turning off, each crafted by the M.C. (Magic Circle) to adapt to its user

  One by one, the heroes stepped forward, receiving their Hero’s Mark—a passive skill that would never turn off, crafted by the M.C. (Magic Circle) based on their magic fluctuations.

  As each candidate received their mark, something unexpected happened. For the first time in history, the Hero’s Marks didn’t remain in one place.

  Instead, each Hero’s Mark shifted, relocating to different parts of their bodies, as if symbolizing their unique abilities—a sign that the magic crafted for them was personal, a manifestation of their individual potential.

  Finally, Kael’s turn arrived.

  He raised his palm. The Hero’s Mark flickered, and then it shifted, crawling up his arm and spiraling upward like a living thing.

  Then, the mark shifted once more—it moved into his eyes.

  A sharp, burning sensation rippled through his head. His vision wavered.

  Then, he saw it.

  Chains—thick, ethereal, metallic strands—extended from every person in the room, reaching out toward something beyond his perception.

  The others didn't seem to notice, but Kael’s instincts told him that this was significant.

  For the first time since he’d arrived at the church, Kael found himself overwhelmed with questions. Questions that no one seemed prepared to answer.

  ...

  M.p or magic pollution is the disordered atoms and elements that are in a place this m.p is dangerous because one when someone casts a spell their organized elements can collide with the disorganized elements causing unpredictable outcomes.second when disorganized elements get too dense they may cause a spell to occure naturally but since the magic formula is set at random the naturally occurring spell could be a natural disaster or it could attract monsters.third it hurts your magic core being in an area with a lot of disorganized elements can affect your magic core leading you ton pass out or even death

  ...

  Magic cores are an organ in your body that is not made up of flesh but magic the core has an storing effect and organizing effect .the core is located just below the brain allowing nerve signals to reach it faster essentially making your sixth sense sharper than the others as it reacts the fastest magic cores have an organizing effect which is used to single out elements for spell use.after it gets organized it gets stored for later use .the longer disorganized elements are kept in the magic core the more organized it gets but since the magic gets circulated quickly the only way to keep it longer is by crating a maze the harder the maze the more time it spends in the magic core the more organized it is.so generally magic cores are divided into four

  0 dimension magic core-it means you literally don't have a magic core and can't use magic

  1 dimension magic core-a straight line that only circulates for a second leading to repetitive circulation making it harder to use magic.

  2 dimensional magic core-your core now has width allowing for complex magic cores for better circulation.

  3 dimension magic core-now having length your options have skyrocketed this is also the peak of mortal power

  4 dimension magic core-a well let's save this for the gods