As the crowd began to disperse, the robed man lifted his staff again, his voice carrying easily over the noise of shuffling footsteps and murmurs. “I will remain in the village center at the building known as the Guild Hall. Those seeking guidance or assistance should come there.” His gaze swept over the crowd one last time before he turned and walked toward the center of the village, his robes trailing behind him, the faint amber glow of his staff casting warm light over his path.
Kenji watched him go, a sense of purpose stirring inside him. He didn’t know what the Guild Hall was exactly, but if it was where the man would be, then it was where he needed to go. The man seemed to understand what was happening in this strange place—more than anyone else here, at least—and he might have the answers they needed. If Kenji was going to figure out how to find the rest of his family, he had to start there.
But before they could head over, Kenji caught sight of himself in a nearby window’s reflection, and his stomach twisted. His clothes were still stained with dried blood, and his face and hands bore dark smears that looked even worse under the village’s soft light. He grimaced. As much as he wanted to rush to the Guild Hall, he couldn’t ignore the state he was in. The last thing he needed was to terrify anyone else.
“Hey, look,” Ren said, nudging him and pointing down a nearby street. “That building over there looks like a bathhouse, doesn’t it? Old-style, like the ones in period dramas.”
Kenji followed his brother’s gaze to a wooden building with sloping eaves and large double doors, a faint trail of steam rising from inside. The characters painted above the entrance confirmed it—an onsen, or at least a replica of one. “Good eye,” Kenji said, relief washing over him. “Let’s go clean up first.”
They made their way to the bathhouse, its wooden doors creaking slightly as they pushed them open. Inside, there was no one at the counter—no workers, no attendants. Just a simple wooden counter with a small bell and a wooden sign above it listing the services offered. Bathing, laundering, and a clothing shop were all options, each listed with traditional-style wooden tokens as pricing markers.
As they approached the counter, a system screen flickered to life in front of them, hovering above the countertop. The screen showed a menu of services, each option listed with a brief description and a price in what seemed to be some kind of system currency. Kenji’s eyes moved from the menu to the screen, feeling the same strange wonder mixed with confusion. This was… new. A bathhouse that ran on the system’s interface?
He reached out to select the bathing option, but paused, realizing they hadn’t been given any currency to pay. He sighed, about to turn away, when another screen appeared, this one written in bright blue letters:
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System Notice
For the first month within the Tutorial Grounds, basic services—bathing, laundry, and hygiene—are free of charge. Clothing purchases will still require system currency.
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that’s convenient,” Ren said with a relieved grin.
Kenji nodded, selecting the bathing and laundering options. A soft chime echoed from the counter, and another screen prompted him to enter a bathing area on the left and leave his clothes in a basket for laundering. “Guess the system’s got us covered. Let’s get cleaned up before we head to the Guild Hall.”
They made their way into the bathhouse proper, the scent of warm steam and faint minerals in the air. Kenji left his bloodstained clothes in the basket as instructed and stepped into the hot water, sinking down with a long sigh. As the heat seeped into his aching muscles, he finally felt some of the tension ease away, the horrors of the fight slowly drifting from his mind, if only for a moment.
Ren settled in nearby, looking equally relieved. “It’s kind of surreal, isn’t it? Everything’s changed, and yet here we are, in a bathhouse, like nothing’s happened.”
“Yeah,” Kenji murmured, leaning back against the stone edge, letting the water wash away the grime and blood. “But it’s not the same. Not by a long shot.” His hand drifted to his side, where the broken katana he refused to part from rested just outside the water, the jagged edge still faintly pulsing with that eerie, dark energy. The void was with him now, something he’d carry no matter how hard he scrubbed his skin.
As Kenji stepped out of the bath, he found his clothes neatly folded on a nearby shelf, freshly washed and free of the blood and grime from earlier. But as he picked them up, he noticed that the holes and cuts remained—clear reminders of the fight, marring the worn fabric like battle scars.
He shook out his jeans, the dark blue fabric faded almost to black, with patches that had been stitched and restitched over the years from his work on the farm. His old work boots, scuffed and sturdy, still bore a few faint stains despite the cleaning, and he could feel the cracks in the leather where they had split from heavy use. He pulled on his shirt, plain and white, though the edges were frayed and a fresh tear at the shoulder reminded him of one of the goblin’s slashes. Finally, he slipped on his plaid jacket, soft but worn, with loose threads and a few new rips from the encounter.
“Torn, but at least they’re clean,” he murmured to himself, glancing down at the familiar clothes. It was strange—a part of him felt comforted by the familiar weight of his old clothes, but another part felt the disconnect between the worn fabric and the strange, new reality he found himself in. He adjusted the broken katana, tucking it awkwardly back into his belt, the hilt pressing against his side.
Ren, dressed in his own patched clothes, gave him a nod. “Ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Kenji replied, squaring his shoulders. They stepped out of the bathhouse, the warm evening air hitting them as they made their way toward the Guild Hall.
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Kenji and Ren stepped up to the entrance of the Guild Hall, their eyes tracing the edges of the building. It was an old Japanese structure, expansive and intricate, with broad, sweeping eaves and sliding wooden doors that hinted at layers of rooms within. Warm lights flickered inside, casting the hall in a welcoming glow. The place felt simultaneously like an inn, a bustling office, and a dining area all merged into one, as if it were a hub for everything that kept the village running.
As they stepped inside, they were greeted by a wave of sound—laughter, voices overlapping, the clinking of dishes. People were scattered around long wooden tables, eating from plates that appeared out of thin air, materializing just in front of them. As each person finished their meal, the plates vanished just as swiftly, leaving no mess behind. The smell of hot food lingered in the air, filling the room with an aroma that was both foreign and comforting.
Along one of the walls was an area that looked like it was meant for job postings, but the board itself was empty. Kenji could only imagine what kind of jobs might eventually be displayed there. Nearby, there was a queue of people lined up along another section of the room, leading to a door at the far end. The line moved slowly, each person waiting their turn, as if they were all in a busy business center, each person with an urgent purpose. Conversations buzzed around them as people discussed what they’d heard from others or asked questions about the mysterious tasks that awaited them.
Kenji’s attention was drawn to a man standing by the door, dressed in robes similar to the one worn by the man who had addressed the crowd outside. He appeared to be an attendant of sorts, his posture formal but welcoming, his gaze focused and calm.
As Kenji and Ren approached, the robed man by the door looked up, giving them a polite nod. “Greetings, travelers,” he said, his voice smooth and steady. “My name is Eloran, Guild Assistant for this village’s hall. How can I assist you?”
Kenji cleared his throat, glancing quickly at Ren before addressing Eloran. “Is this… the Guild Hall?”
Eloran inclined his head slightly. “Yes, this is the Guild Hall. Here, you can pick up contracts, join guild-organized events, and meet with officials,” he explained, his voice calm as if he’d answered this question many times before.
Ren tilted his head. “Contracts?”
A patient smile spread across Eloran’s face. “Yes. A guild is an organization permitted by the System to manage tasks in a local area. Guilds gather people into what are known as parties—small groups that complete missions, handle dangerous creatures, and perform various duties for citizens or nobility. These tasks are often called contracts, and they vary widely in difficulty and purpose. Some are as simple as assisting with harvests, while others may involve battling creatures or exploring unknown areas.”
“So… it’s like an organization for adventurers?” Kenji asked, trying to piece together the concept.
“Precisely,” Eloran replied. “You could say guilds manage the adventurers within a territory, helping them find work, strengthen their abilities, and build their reputations.”
Kenji exchanged a look with Ren, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension at the thought of joining something like that. But he had a more urgent question. “Is the man from outside—the one who spoke to everyone—in here? We’d like to talk to him.”
Eloran gestured toward the line of people waiting by the sliding door. “He’s inside, yes, but to meet with him, you’ll need to wait in line with the others. Many seek his guidance, so I’m afraid it may take some time.”
Kenji and Ren looked at the queue, which had only grown longer as more people filed in. With a resigned sigh, Kenji nodded and joined the line, Ren falling in beside him. As they waited, they took in the sights and sounds of the Guild Hall around them. For all its strange rules and mystique, there was something oddly comforting about the place, a sense that here, at least, there were people who understood the chaos they’d all been thrown into.
As the line inched forward at a glacial pace, Kenji glanced at Ren. “You might as well get something to eat while we wait,” he said, nodding toward the dining area. “No sense in both of us standing here if it’s going to take this long.”
Ren’s stomach gave a grumble, and he gave a sheepish grin. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, slipping out of the line and heading toward the dining hall.
Kenji watched his brother weave through the tables, then turned his attention back to the queue, which seemed to be barely moving. With a resigned sigh, he adjusted his worn shirt and jacket, eyes tracing the ancient beams of the Guild Hall’s ceiling as he waited, feeling the minutes stretch on. It was almost fifteen minutes later by the time Ren finally returned, carrying a tray of food that sent an unfamiliar, savory aroma wafting through the air.
“Smells good,” Kenji said, eyeing the plate as Ren stepped back into line beside him. The food looked… alien, but in an oddly appetizing way. The plate held a slice of some unknown meat, glistening with a dark sauce, a mix of strange-looking vegetables with colors he didn’t quite recognize, and a heap of rice that was distinctly blue.
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Ren grinned, clearly pleased with his choice. “Yeah, it was kind of weird at first. There was no one serving anything, just tables with empty plates. But as soon as I sat down, a menu screen popped up. Everything was listed there, and I just had to pick what I wanted.”
Kenji raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And it just… appeared?”
Ren nodded, his eyes lighting up with a hint of excitement. “Yup. One second, empty plate—next second, it’s loaded with food. And once I was done, the plate just vanished. Clean as if it had never been there.” He picked up a piece of the blue rice with his fingers, holding it out to Kenji. “Want to try?”
Kenji hesitated, staring at the unusual rice, then shrugged and popped it into his mouth. The flavor was surprisingly familiar, tasting vaguely of herbs and a hint of sweetness, though the texture was softer than he’d expected. “Huh. Not bad,” he admitted. “Did the whole disappearing plate thing freak you out?”
“A little,” Ren said with a grin. “But I could get used to it. Saves us from doing the dishes, right?”
Kenji chuckled, then glanced back at the line, which had finally moved up by a few people. They were getting closer, slowly but surely. The savory scent of Ren’s meal lingered around them, a strange reminder that while everything else about this place was foreign, some things—like sharing a meal—still held a comforting sense of normalcy.
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Kenji and Ren took a deep breath as they finally reached the front of the line. The attendant slid open the door, gesturing for them to step inside. As they entered, they found themselves in a traditional Japanese meeting room, the kind Kenji had only seen in history books or on TV. The floor was covered in soft tatami mats, and at the center of the room was a low wooden table, set with a delicate tea set and small plates of food.
Sitting cross-legged behind the table was the man from the square, the one who had addressed the crowd. He looked up as they entered, a warm smile spreading across his face, and gestured for them to sit across from him. “Welcome,” he said, his voice calm and inviting. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
Kenji and Ren exchanged a quick glance before taking their seats on the floor across from the man. Up close, he seemed even more otherworldly; his features were refined, yet there was something about his eyes—something ancient and knowing, as though he’d seen more lifetimes than any mortal should. His gaze rested on Kenji, his eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.
“My name is Aranath,” he introduced himself, his voice soft yet resonant. The name felt foreign, unearthly, as if it didn’t quite belong in this world or any world Kenji knew. “I understand you have questions, and I will do my best to provide answers. But first…” He turned his piercing gaze directly on Kenji, his smile fading. “Tell me—what creatures did you kill before you came to the village?”
Kenji’s pulse quickened. He hadn’t expected the man to know about that. Clearing his throat, he nodded. “There were these creatures… goblins, I think. They attacked my brother, and I—I had to fight them to protect him.” He hesitated before continuing, then reached down and placed the broken katana on the table between them. “I… I also used this power, something called a ‘void bolt.’ I don’t know how I unlocked it, but it just… happened.”
Aranath’s face drained of color as he looked down at the jagged blade, his eyes narrowing as if seeing something far beyond its physical form. A range of emotions flickered across his face—fear, pity, and something else that looked like envy. He sat silently for a moment, his expression hardening as he studied Kenji.
Finally, he took a deep, resigned breath and looked back up at him. “You wield a power that no man should wield,” he said quietly, a note of sorrow in his voice. “The essence of the void is… rare beyond measure. Not only should it be impossible for you to possess an essence and ability so soon, but you’ve been granted one of the most dangerous essences there is. The void is a force of annihilation, a power that corrupts as much as it destroys.”
He glanced down at the broken katana, his gaze distant. “The void essence is not meant for mortals. Those who wield it… they die terrible deaths, often consumed by the very power they try to control. This essence has a way of overpowering those who bear it, turning on them until there’s nothing left. And you… you already bear it in its rawest form.”
Aranath’s eyes softened, and he offered Kenji a sad smile. “I am sorry to tell you this, but it is very likely that you will die a terrible death—and, more likely than not, in very short order. The void… it does not lend itself to peace. It is a harbinger of chaos and suffering.”
Kenji felt the words sink into him like lead, a cold fear clutching at his chest. His hand drifted to the broken blade, its jagged edge now feeling like a weight he could never put down. He wanted to speak, to deny what he’d just heard, but the certainty in Aranath’s gaze left him silent, the reality settling in like a dark cloud.
Ren, pale and speechless, looked from Aranath to his brother, his face reflecting the shock and worry that Kenji was too numb to feel. The world around him blurred, Aranath’s words echoing in his mind—a terrible death, the void consuming him, a power he could barely control.
Why? Why had that sword chosen to give him this terrible fate?
And yet, despite the fear, a flicker of determination stirred within him. Whatever this power was, whatever fate the void had in store, he wasn’t going to let it drag him down until he at least found his family.
Aranath’s gaze softened further, his curiosity tempered with concern. “Tell me, Kenji… how did you come to gain such an essence? What events led you to acquire the void?”
Kenji hesitated, his mind flicking back to that day at the family shrine, to the prayers whispered at the foot of his ancestor’s name. “I was… praying. At a family shrine. I was asking for guidance, for help with… with everything that’s happened.” He paused, glancing down at the broken blade. “And then, this mist appeared—purple, like it was alive.”
He barely got the words out when something flickered in the corner of his vision. His breath caught as a system message appeared, glitching and hazy, its letters shifting from strange, glowing hieroglyphs to clear words, all in the same deep purple as the mist he’d just described.
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System Message:
The Void Walker is hereby prohibited from sharing his position and events leading to it with any but his closest friends and family.
Note: Be warned and cautious if sharing any details of Void Essence/Powers and Broken Annihilation Blade. Unforeseen dangers could await.
----------------------------------------
The words hovered there, lingering ominously before fading back into the strange symbols, then disappearing entirely. Kenji felt his mouth go dry, the message’s warning heavy in his mind. He stuttered, thrown off balance by the sudden restriction.
Aranath leaned forward, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Kenji? Are you alright?”
Kenji forced himself to refocus, blinking hard. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, his voice steadier than he felt. He chose his words carefully, feeling the weight of the message’s warning pressing against his thoughts. “The mist… it surrounded me. And then, a screen appeared, and it told me I had unlocked the void essence. That’s how I got the void bolt ability as well.”
Aranath seems lost in thought after hearing the story, silent for a minute.
Ren looked puzzled as Kenji left out the experience he had told him about. Kenji looked to the boy smiling but also pointedly. Ren simply nodded.
Aranath then turned watched him intently, his expression unreadable as he processed Kenji’s answer. Kenji wondered if he sensed the unspoken parts of the story, the secrets that the system itself seemed determined to keep hidden. But whatever Aranath knew or suspected, he kept to himself, simply nodding, though the hint of fear still lingered in his eyes.
“Then it seems,” Aranath said, his voice low and thoughtful, “that you were chosen, in some way, by forces beyond even the System. The void… it is not a power that reveals itself easily. Whatever purpose it has in you, Kenji, it is one that will demand every ounce of courage and resolve you possess.” He glanced again at the broken blade, his face shadowed. “For your sake, I hope you find a way to wield it… before it wields you.”
Kenji took a deep breath, nodding.
Aranath cleared his throat, breaking the somber silence that had settled over the room. “But let’s shift back to the matter at hand,” he said, his tone gentler now, bringing them back to the purpose of their visit. “What was it that you originally sought me out to ask?”
Kenji glanced at Ren, then leaned forward. “We wanted to ask if you knew anything about… well, our family. We were separated when we ended up here, and we don’t know if they’re safe or where they might be.”
Aranath nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. With a focused expression, he extended his hand, his fingers moving through the air as if scrolling on an invisible tablet. His gaze unfocused, his attention drifting to something neither Kenji nor Ren could see. “Tell me their names,” he requested, his voice almost distracted.
Kenji and Ren began listing their family members: their parents, Aiko and Emily; their sisters; and their youngest brother. Aranath’s fingers continued their silent motions as he scanned through the invisible information. After a moment, he stopped, set his hand down, and looked at them with a hint of regret in his eyes.
“Unfortunately,” he said, his voice steady, “your family has been placed in different tutorial zones. With the influx of new residents from Earth, multiple zones were created to help guides like myself manage newcomers without overwhelming numbers. This allows each zone to function effectively, ensuring each person gets the attention they need during the integration process.”
Kenji’s heart sank, but he forced himself to stay focused. “So, how do we get to the zone where they are?” he asked, his voice tinged with a determination that refused to waver.
Aranath looked at him, his expression softening slightly. “Once a tutorial zone’s ‘boss’ is defeated, it will unlock access to the wider tutorial grounds—a neutral meeting area where individuals from all zones can gather and connect. You’ll be able to meet up with your family there.”
Kenji frowned. “A… boss?”
Aranath nodded, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Yes, but to properly explain this… I must delve into a topic much earlier than I would normally share, given your current progress. I must also ask that you keep this information between the two of you for now.”
Kenji and Ren exchanged a glance before nodding, curiosity mingling with apprehension as they turned their attention back to Aranath. The man leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharpening, as he prepared to reveal a truth he had planned to share soon enough.
Aranath took a deep breath, settling into an instructive tone. “To understand this world and the powers that come with it, you must first understand what we call Essence Theory and the process of cultivation.”
He leaned forward, his eyes glinting as he chose his words carefully. “Essences are, at their core, the distilled concepts or elements of the universe. They are the heart of powers that individuals can wield—be it fire, earth, shadow, light, and so on. When a being truly understands a concept—say, the nature of fire or the essence of earth—they can acquire that essence, tapping into it to draw forth specific abilities. For example, someone with a fire essence may, over time, gain the power to create flames or manipulate heat. Each ability is a form of expression of the essence itself.”
Kenji nodded slowly, absorbing the information, while Ren’s brow furrowed as he tried to keep up.
Aranath’s gaze shifted to Kenji, his eyes lingering on him for a moment before continuing. “The void, however, operates differently. It doesn’t follow the usual rules of Essence Theory. Unlike other essences, which require understanding and an active process of cultivation, the void… chooses. It is selective, deciding who may bear its essence and abilities. It is a force separate from the natural elements, with its own will and purpose.”
Kenji’s heart beat faster at that, a sense of foreboding rising in him.
“A being may only hold up to three essences,” Aranath continued, “but each essence can grant a range of abilities, depending on the individual’s growth and mastery. Like how you, Kenji, can tap into the void to produce bolts of energy—your ‘Void Bolt’ ability. The more you deepen your understanding of the void, the stronger this and other void-based abilities will become.”
Aranath nodded to himself, settling into the explanation further, his tone reflective and thoughtful. “Essences are more than simply learning or understanding a concept though. They are about embodying that concept—internalizing what it means on the deepest, most intrinsic level. An essence is not something you merely wield; it’s something that must resonate within you, become a part of who you are. To gain a water essence, for instance, one must not only understand the nature of water, but also embrace its fluidity, adaptability, and grace. Someone who is inherently rigid or unyielding in spirit would find it exceedingly difficult to wield such an essence because they lack that natural flexibility within themselves.”
He looked at Kenji, his eyes sharp with emphasis. “The essence must ring true to the core of your being. It is not enough to desire power—you must embody the principles of that power. Only then will the essence allow itself to be claimed. This is why so many find themselves limited to certain elements or concepts that naturally align with their dispositions and character.”
Aranath paused, then continued, his tone shifting as he delved into the more complex aspects of essence wielding. “However, essences can be accessed in ways that reflect an individual’s unique perspective, sometimes resulting in abilities or power sets that seem unusual. Take, for example, the essence of death. Those who wield it often view it as a natural end, a force of closure or transformation. But a necromancer who seeks to raise the dead would also need to tap into life essence. Despite the apparent contradiction, they do this by perceiving undeath not as mere reanimation, but as a twisted form of life. They view the presence of undead as an extension of life, a kind of continuation, rather than an opposition to it.”
Kenji’s mind buzzed with the implications. “So… opposites can coexist?”
“Indeed,” Aranath replied, nodding thoughtfully. “While gaining opposing essences is more difficult, it is not impossible. The being in question must develop a perspective that allows both concepts to coexist harmoniously within them. For example, a necromancer with both life and death essences walks a line between preservation and destruction, viewing one as an extension of the other. They understand life’s delicate balance with death and wield both in a way that reflects their unique understanding.”
He paused to let the information so far sink in, and then leaned back slightly, his gaze distant as he moved to the next part of the explanation. “This brings us to cultivation. Cultivation is the ongoing process by which an individual deepens their understanding of their own essences, unlocking greater strength and refining their abilities. By cultivating, you can surpass mortal limitations—eventually reaching the point where even basic needs, such as breathing or eating, are no longer required. Your power grows as your connection to these essences strengthens, allowing you to tap into the concept on a grander scale.”
“So… it’s a way of developing the powers we have?” Ren asked, glancing at Kenji as he tried to comprehend the process.
“Yes,” Aranath confirmed while leaning back, his gaze distant as he spoke. “Essence cultivation is as much about growth and discovery within oneself as it is about wielding power. It is not simply a journey of gathering strength; it is a journey of understanding, of becoming one with the forces that drive existence. Only when a concept rings true to the soul can it be truly embraced, and only then can it manifest as an essence. This is why essence wielding is so deeply personal, and why no two paths are the same.”
He sipped at the tea he had before him and then continued on to finish the explanation
“And, along the path of cultivation, there will come a point where you can attempt a ‘confluence’—a merging of your essences. This requires at least two essences, though three can also be combined, if you have acquired that many. When done correctly, a confluence creates something entirely new, an evolved power unique to the individual. For example, a person who has both fire and earth essences may be able to combine them into a lava confluence, unlocking new abilities and possibilities that neither essence could grant alone.”
Kenji felt a flicker of understanding, though the concept still felt vast and strange. “So… combining essences can make us stronger?”
Aranath nodded. “Yes. But remember, confluence requires more than just possessing the essences—it demands true mastery. Only when you have cultivated both essences deeply, learning their nature and their nuances, will you be able to merge them successfully. Until then, each essence will remain separate, limited to its own abilities.”
Aranath paused, letting the silence hang for a moment as his words settled over them. Finally, he met their eyes, a hint of encouragement in his expression. “Ah sorry Essence Theory has always been a passion of mine. Which is why I was chosen for the early stages of this tutorial. Does the theory make sense so far?”