Nirou Tetsugawa was a young man that could be said to have a personality unbefitting of his stature. Standing nearly 200 centimeters and 100 kilograms, he was often teased growing up by being told he should become a sumo wrestler. His tormenters naturally knew that the timid and cowardly Nirou would do no such thing. And so he spent all his youth as a remarkably large target.

His family held expectations that he struggled to meet. Failing to become a doctor like his father was a constant threat looming over him, one that eventually came to pass. While the theory was drilled into him perfectly adequately, when forced to apply any practical skills Nirou's stomach churned and extremities quivered. To put it bluntly, the boy was a bit of a wuss. The shame of his failings saw him becoming a shut-in and living a purposeless existence in his tiny, dark apartment. There was no telling how long it would be before his life simply faded away, were it not for a particular event.

"Haaah, I'm probably gonna have to find a job soon." Nirou groaned to himself as he opened his freshly boiled cup noodles. He continued to talk to himself to break the silence in his lonely abode as he ate while scrolling through pages of internet forums. "My parents won't be willing to support me much longer. I wonder if the convenience store would hire me."

Scarfing his noodles down in no time flat, Nirou throws away the container and turns to a look at a corner of the room. His eyes solemnly glance over a pile of books left strewn about. Medical textbooks, all but useless to him now that he's dropped out of medical school. Regardless of how much he studied, his queasiness at the sight of blood rendered him useless on a practical level. If he couldn't even draw blood, becoming a surgeon like his father was unthinkable. While options in the medical field existed that could keep Nirou from interacting with blood too much, his inadequacies from over the years eventually came to a head and caused his grades across the board to drop. Eventually he flunked out entirely.

It had been months since then, and the books remained in place. Something of a masochistic reminder to himself of how badly he had betrayed his parents' expectations. Every day without fail his vision would cross them, and he felt just as awful as the first instance. Today was no different in that regard, and Nirou leaned back in his chair to look at the ceiling to let the full measure of his guilt wash over him. He was lucky to have been supported this far, he thought. He had no one to blame but himself.

As the young man composed himself to return to his aimless web-surfing, a strange light other than the one from his computer screen began to light up the dark room. A circle of light, surrounding the chair Nirou was seated in. Alarmed, he jolted up far quicker than was usual for him and hopped aside and away from the chair. But the circle of light reoriented itself, moving below where he was standing. Before he could object any further by moving yet again, Nirou was completely engulfed in an otherworldly light emanating from the circle. A flash illuminated the entire apartment briefly, as the young man disappeared. The lonely apartment was left behind, illuminated only by the glow of the computer screen.

The very instant of his disappearance, Nirou reappeared elsewhere. In an unfamiliar room made of wooden planks, like the inside of a shack. There were jars and shelves lined up against the opposite wall, with a bed to the left and a table to the right. Not a fancy place by any means, but practical. All the details of his new location however immediately lessened in priority once he saw what was kneeling directly in front of him. A young woman, her blond hair reaching her shoulders, wearing a fancy dress that had seemingly subjected to some abuse. It was scuffed and torn in multiple places, as well as far dirtier than it was likely ever intended to be. As if she wore a ball gown on a hiking trip. But more than her outfit, or any of her features, Nirou was shocked to see her barely clinging on to consciousness.

Bleeding from her arm, struggling to keep her eyes open and her head up, the girl managed to say only a bit before passing out.

"What did I summon...?" she asked as she tried to make out the figure in her increasingly blurry vision. "A giant...?"

The girl can keep herself up no longer, and collapses. A faint ember of effort has her arm lift slightly in an attempt to break her fall, but it crumples immediately. The girl is left unconscious on the floor as Nirou's mind scrambles in confusion. He has no idea how or why he's been brought here, nor what to do about the bleeding passed out girl in front of him. Despite the distance his height puts between him and the blood dripping onto the floor, he's already become uneasy. His stomach is turning at the thought of having to do something about this. But in his mind, he knows he must. What kind of man is going to let a girl bleed out in front of him? Not any kind of man Nirou was willing to be. He'd rather be dead.

Ignoring the churning of his stomach, he quickly picked the girl up and placed her on the bed nearby. He grabbed a piece of cloth from a shelf nearby, and looked it over. Deciding it seemed clean enough for a rush job, he tied it tightly around the wound on the girl's arm. He continued to put pressure on it as he breathed deeply, trying to get over his own issues without passing out himself. The blood was out of sight now so things should be fine, he thought. As he kept calming himself, he moved on. Placing his fingers on the girl's neck, he checked her pulse. It was fairly low, though remaining stable. Looking around the room, Nirou expected to see more blood from her, but there was only a bit on the floor.

With how pale the girl was, and how low her blood pressure, Nirou was sure she was creeping close to anemic shock. It was quite strange that there wasn't more blood around. But that didn't really matter, the lost blood could just be outside for all he knew. The important thing was to treat this girl. Though in truth, he was a bit relieved that he didn't have to do so in a room splattered in blood.

Grabbing another piece of cloth, Nirou tied a loose piece of wood over the already covered wound to keep the pressure on while he got up. He positioned the arm on top of the girl as she laid on her back, in order to keep the wound somewhat elevated. Treating the wound was all well and good, but what the girl really needed was to replenish the blood she'd lost. It's not like he could do a transfusion, for a number of reasons. So the only choice was to get her food and water to do it. Though he had no idea where the shack they were in might be, the place fortunately seemed to be somewhat stocked already.

Nirou looked over the shelves and found baskets of some strange fruits he had never seen before. They were purple, yet the size and texture of a lemon. Citrus would be particularly good for this situation, so he held out hope that his comparison was legitimate. He had no way of knowing for sure that this new fruit was safe to eat, but the rest of the shelf was full of what seemed like obvious food. Cured meats and fish in particular stood out as safe and useful. Nirou decided that he would trust the whole stock was proper food, since he doubted he had any other option right now.

Checking the jars, the young man was greeted by a smell that he was sure was tea. He couldn't tell how long it had been sitting, nor even make a guess as to what kind of tea it could possibly be given the unknown fruit already tripped him up, but as long as it was safe to drink it didn't matter. Nirou carefully and nervously tested all of them himself for safety: Sipping a tiny bit of tea, nibbling a tiny bit of meat, and extremely hesitantly just barely touching his tongue to the flesh of the strange fruit. They all tasted just fine, and seemed to indeed be standard food and drink. Just as well, since he didn't have time to spare finding anything else.

Nirou contemplated his next action. Trying to get an unconscious person to drink could be seriously risky. But there was the chance that just waiting for her to wake up wasn't an option. Rather than regret doing nothing, he turned the girl on her side and poured a bit of tea in her mouth to see how she would react. After a second or two she swallowed, then started coughing. Her eyes creaked slightly open, and she tried to lean up on her elbow.

"Just give me that." the girl demanded in-between two fits of coughing, as she took the tea. With a huge swig, she downed the whole thing as soon as her cough lightened up. "Bleh. I don't even like this Southern tea."

Despite his many questions, Nirou patiently waited for the girl to finish eating and drinking the meat, fruit, and tea he had picked out. She wasn't hesitant about consuming any of it, so it seems he was right about it all being standard food and nothing to worry about. After the girl was finished, she cleared her throat and put on a serious face while addressing the young man.

"Thank you for your help." she began. "My name is Laskadia Zysc Voldbend, daughter and heir of Count Leonear Zysc Voldbend, ruler of the county of Voldbend, southeastern-most territory of the great Western Empire, Dragunasia."

She proudly rattled off long names and titles that meant absolutely nothing to Nirou, but at least she was feeling alright now.

"Are you going to be okay?" Nirou asked, still concerned about the girl's condition more than anything. "It seemed like you lost a lot of blood, what happened?"

"Worry not, I will be quite alright. Thanks to your quick treatment and this amulet of mine." Laskadia claims as she pulls something hanging from her neck out from her blouse. It looks like a disc made of jade, with a simple symbol of some kind adorning the front. Though it was not one Nirou had ever seen. "This rare gift is an amulet of fortitude. It allows me to bear great pain and stress. Though I cannot say for sure that it alone would have been enough to save me, so I give you due credit for your efforts."

"As for how it happened, it's entirely my own doing." the girl goes on. "I've been put in quite a desperate situation, I loathe to admit. After a single tribute I was little better equipped, so I made a hasty decision to make a second tribute in immediate succession. It might have proven the death of me, but all is yet well. In any case, I don't intend to repeat the process in the future."

"But enough of my explanations." Laskadia says, completely ignoring the fact that most of it went entirely over her audience's head. "You've yet to even introduce yourself! You may be my benefactor, but I don't appreciate rudeness."

"Uh, right. Sorry." Nirou's meek apology was little more than a mumble. He put aside his desire for further explanation and did as he was told. "I'm Nirou Tetsugawa. I'm studying... I was studying to be a doctor, so it's just luck that I knew enough first aid to help out. Also, I was just sitting in my room alone a bit ago. What happened there? Why am I here all of a sudden?"

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"Neero what? It's like you switched to an entirely different language just long enough to say your name. This side effect of the summoning spell is quite interesting." Laskadia laughs slightly to herself before even attempting to explain anything. "A doctor in training is quite welcome, particularly one at your size. You should make a fine bodyguard."

"It was I who summoned you here from your world." the girl finally admits, putting her hand to her chest and making a big show out of it. "In exchange for my second tribute, the gift I received was a Summon Otherworlder spell. I cast it as soon as I could, and you were chosen at random to come here. I'm sorry if you've been inconvenienced, but I need your help."

"My help? Help with what?" Nirou was naturally shocked by the claim that he was in another world, but somehow stayed calm regardless. Was it because he didn't really have anything to lose? Or maybe it was just because this was no different from how he had been pulled around all his life anyway.

"My home and parents are no more." Laskadia tells the man, visibly wincing at the acknowledgement. Though it seems she's past the point of crying, the wound is still fresh. "One night about a moon ago, our manor was set upon by a band of ruffians. Normally this would be nothing for a noble to worry about, but this was no ordinary band. They were led by the Bandit King of the Steppes, Temat. In recent years he's grown strong thanks to one of the results of his tribute. The mythical Sword of Ruin, which turns anything it cuts to dust. By sheer luck, a criminal has been blessed with the power to destroy as he pleases. It's like a divine jest. There is no telling just how many lives he's ruined since then."

"Yet that is not the whole of it." she continues. "In my haste to escape, I heard them mention that their payment for the raid on my family's manor would be in addition to whatever they looted. The Bandit King was hired to kill my parents, and surely me as well. My father had those in the Empire who hated him, I have no doubt one of them is the culprit. I intend to find out who it was, and get my revenge. As well as wiping out the Bandit King and his band along the way. The continent will be better off for it."

From the determined way Laskadia stated it, it was as if it was meant to be taken as a given fact. Nirou felt smaller just hearing it. Had he ever held any kind of conviction for anything? Obviously when considering the actual scope of what she wanted to do, calling her optimistic was being nice. But some people did in fact go on to do great things. It's not like Nirou could really pretend to know one when he saw one. Success was as foreign to him as this alternate world had been just an hour ago.

"I see..." the young man responds, knowing that he didn't have it in him to meet her determination in any reply he could give. "I don't know if I'm exactly the guy you want for this, though. I can't fight or anything. There's just no way. I may be big, but I'm pretty weak. I'm the guy who always got picked on in school, you know how it is. It really would have been better if you'd summoned someone other than me."

Nirou couldn't speak well of himself if his life depended on it. Self-depreciation was like second nature to him, and any opportunity to put himself down, he met it. Unlike other people's expectations. Let alone being of any use back in his own world, he couldn't imagine even attempting to be useful here. Not after hearing about bandit kings and swords that turn things to dust. He would rather just let her down now than later, when it might really count. But the girl wasn't having it. Kneeling up on the bed, wobbling just a bit, she leaned towards Nirou and grabbed his shirt in her fist. She pulled on it with what meager strength her exhausted body could muster and looked up to the young man's face. It was still a good two heads higher than her own, but she wasn't disparaged in the slightest.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this." she began, her narrowed brows not exactly befitting of an apology. The fact that she saw fit to open with that made Nirou wince in expectation of a verbal thrashing. "I know you probably didn't want to leave your nice cushy world that is so peaceful as to let you build up an equally cushy body. I would have chosen someone else just as well, and left you to your devices. But I didn't have a choice. You were chosen for me. And now I need your help. You're the only person there is for me to depend on. I'm not going to try to move you with a platitude about destiny guiding you here by my summon and revealing a true purpose for you. I don't have any idea how they think back in the world you're from. What kind of morals you have. But you did save me. I pushed myself to the brink of death in desperation, and you treated me as the natural course of action. So the only thing I can do is appeal to that part of you I know exists. With or without you, the only path I have to take now is to find the truth and get revenge. And it may very well lead to my death. I'm asking you to keep helping me stay alive. By the end of it all, if you want to find a way home or be rewarded with riches, I'll make it up to you. But right now I have nothing, and I can only beg you. Please, help me."

Nirou worked up the nerve to look Laskadia in the eye. They were filled with quite the fire for someone begging for help. What was he supposed to do, say no? It's not like he had any better of a chance of surviving here on his own. Plus really, how was this any different from how he had been dragged about by his parents his whole life? He was the same pushover as he ever was, so why not live up to it? Then again, in the case of his parents they just told him what to do and didn't bother asking. This girl may have been asking him to risk his life, but she was at least polite about it. It seemed Nirou had been thinking to himself for a bit too long, as the girl's grip on his shirt grew tighter and she started shaking her fist.

"Wait, wait. I never said I wouldn't do it." the young man finally responded. "I just had to warn you, you may be disappointed. But I'll still try."

The anger faded from the girl's face, and she let go of Nirou's shirt. She then fell back onto the bed, seemingly having expended more energy than she could afford.

"Well. Good then." she sighed. "Nirou, thank you for your help. I'll be counting on you. You can call me Laska. I hope we can get along."

"Right. Nice to meet you." Nirou awkwardly gave the belated formality as he breathed his own sigh of relief. "So, uh... How exactly did you summon me here, again? Can you like, use magic? How do things work here?"

Laska had closed her eyes at this point, but they shot open as she realized she had forgotten to go over one of the most important things of all.

"Of course! Yes! Naturally you want know that, I was going to bring it up." she tries to save face. "I mentioned tributes before. I realize now that you probably didn't have the context to know what I was talking about, I apologize. In our world, magic is something you can only be granted from God. You offer your blood to Him, and He rewards you with a gift. It can be an item like a weapon, a spell that can be used only once, or a blessing that will stay with you for life and enhance your capabilities. You just have to loose your own blood, draw the ritual sigil on a flat surface, and make the invocation. The resulting gift can be nothing special, or it could be greater than anything you've ever known. It's all down to the whim of God. Greater gifts are rarer, and lesser gifts are more common. You can tell what level of rarity your gift is during the ritual. When your sigil of blood disappears, it will coalesce into a number of star-shaped lights. If it becomes but one, you are due for a gift of the lowest tier of rarity. The number of stars can increase up to seven, a tier of rarity we call 'mythical'. Anyone who manages to receive a mythical gift will change the course of history without fail."

Wait a minute. Nirou had gotten a familiar feeling as the explanation went on, but the stars and tiers of rarity sealed it. This was just like the gacha games he had played on his smartphone. But instead of paying money, you pay in your own blood. He couldn't help but imagine how hardcore this world's equivalent of whales must be.

"You can have this." Laska says as she tosses a sheathed shortsword she had unfastened from around her leg. "I already have another weapon. That is a one-star gift, a 'common' sword. It's the gift I received from the tribute I made just before receiving the summoning spell. I had briefly considered leaving my efforts at that and setting out, but the desperation proved too great. I could not help but tribute again. The second time was when I was gifted the Summon Otherworlder spell. It specified that the one I summoned would be instantly attuned to the first language they heard, so I had to summon you right away while I could still speak. That spell was four stars, the 'very rare' tier."

During Laska's explanation, Nirou slowly started to realize something. He could feel the sweat building up on his forehead, and he backed away from the bed very slightly. This was not unnoticed by his companion.

"Oh no you don't!" the girl lunged forward and grabbed Nirou's shirt again. This time she pulled out a knife. "You're making a tribute, too! Now we have twice as many chances for a breakthrough!"

With a swift slash, the girl nicked Nirou's arm just enough to draw blood. The huge young man's face contorted as he tried desperately to keep himself from blubbering pathetically.

"Don't be such a child. I've been drawing my blood for this since I was ten years old." Laska chides him, squeezing the arm to get more blood out. "You're far bigger than me, you can afford to lose this much with little issue. I'll even draw the sigil for you this time. I'll have to teach it to you later."

Once Laska had squeezed out enough blood, she tied cloth around it just as Nirou had done for her. She then put her fingers right into the blood and began forming the sigil as if she was finger painting. Nirou was more than a bit unsettled.

"I have a brush for my own rituals, but it's got my blood on it, so I can't use it to make a sigil for you." the girl explains. She finishes drawing, and the full sigil is complete. It reminded Nirou of something from a certain anime. "Now you have to make the invocation. Place your hand just outside the sigil and repeat this exact phrase, don't change it at all. 'O God, I beseech You! I offer this, my own blood! I will accept whatever You see fit to give me in return! I beg of You, O God!' Just like that."

"So it has to be that? Nothing else works?" Nirou asks without hesitation, a reflex of curiosity.

"That exact phrase." Laska reiterates. "This ritual was discovered over a thousand years ago, and the invocation has remained the same. Language has even become mostly standardized across the continent purely because of this invocation."

Well that was interesting. Nirou had more he wanted to ask, but this ritual business seemed like the highest priority at the moment. Steeling his nerves in order to be able to place his hand near his own blood, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"O God, I beseech You! I offer this, my own blood! I will accept whatever You see fit to give me in return! I beg of You, O God!"

At that, Nirou creaked his eyes open to watch his blood disappear into nothingness from the floor right before his eyes. In its place, a star of light appeared. Then another. And another. And two more yet after that. Five stars of light in total appeared where his sigil of blood had been, before fading away.

"Nothing's appearing, so you must have gotten a blessing or a spell." Laska interjects. "Let's check."

Wasting no time, the girl grabs Nirou's arm and looks at the inside. Sure enough, some strange symbols fade into view on the young man's skin.

"You can actually look at this any time you want just by thinking about it, it's pretty convenient." Laksa says, before catching a glimpse of Nirou's confused look. "Oh, I guess you can't read it. I suppose the summoning spell only accounted for spoken language. Well I'll do it, just give me a second."

The girl turned around to view his arm from the other side, getting a better view of the runes. Her brows raised as she read, seemingly intrigued by their contents.

"Bloodshape." she stated. "Now that is a boon. A blessing that allows you to manipulate blood. This could be quite the stroke of luck."

Nirou could see the gears turning in Laska's head. She had a grin plastered on her face told him she just got a huge shot of confidence.

As for his part, Nirou couldn't help but groan again. Blood. Of course it had to be blood.