Chapter 19: Fate

“No, wait, hold on, it might not be him… no, it’s definitely him, who else goes around dressed like that? A kid? Dressed like that? In a guild?”

John’s eyes were dancing as he struggled to contain his excitement. Prota was utterly confused. Who was that boy who’d just come in? Why was John so excited? No words had been exchanged. He’d never seen his face. And yet, he was acting as if he were in the presence of a celebrity. There was no way John knew of someone Prota didn’t, he didn’t know enough about this world for that to happen.

Just who was that boy to John?

“John?”

“Mm?”

“Someone you know?”

John looked at Prota. “Huh?”

“That boy. Someone John knows?”

John shook his head. “I’ll explain later.”

Prota nodded, but she couldn’t help but take another look at the boy named Fate. Who was he that John was so interested in him? Even Jinae, the former leader of the demon cult, wasn’t someone he’d bothered to talk to all that much.

So why was he so interested in some random kid?

They quickly returned to their inn, where John took out the forms he’d received from Catherine and began filling them out. Prota hovered around like a satellite, patiently waiting for an answer. She wouldn’t say anything, but it was evident that she wanted to hear something. Eventually, John sighed and put the pen down.

“Remember what I said about stories earlier?” John said.

Prota was about to poke the back of John’s head with her staff, but he saved himself from a bonk by speaking up.

“Prota, if this world is a story, then there’s a main character, right? That’s something that usually exists.”

Prota nodded again.

“We need to meet that main character, no matter what. Prota, this is essential if we want to win.”

Prota cocked her head to the side. What? Why?

“Prota, think.” John turned around and looked at her.

If nothing else, the time he’d spent with her was definitely helping him understand what she was trying to say without saying anything. They were hard to notice, but the small changes in her eyes, the minute twitches of her face, they all conveyed something as valuable as words.

“The main character can’t lose. They’re someone who has to win. Because the [Story] can’t exist without them.”

John frowned, then shrugged his shoulders and sighed. This would be complicated, but, well, what the hell. That hadn’t stopped him from explaining things in the past.

“In this world, or any [Story], there’s something known as [Character Inertia]. Basically, a bunch of people in this world have a higher or lower chance of winning in a fight, regardless of how strong or weak they are.”

“But… the stronger person wins. Because they’re… stronger?”

Prota was confused. That was just common sense, right? If you were stronger, then you should win. That was how fights went.

John shook his head.

“Normally, yes, that would make sense. The stronger person wins. But this isn’t a normal world. This is the [Story]. Everywhere else, everyone else, they’d just fight as normal. The stronger one wins, the weaker one loses.”

John was acknowledging it. That was how things were meant to be. Then what was the catch?

“But think about your fairy tales. The the knight dies before saving the princess, then where would the story be? Nowhere. The [Protagonist] can’t lose- well, I suppose there’s some exceptions, but…”

Prota slowly nodded her head. She hadn’t been told enough stories to get what John was saying, but something most children knew from stories was that the good guys would win, and the bad guys would lose. That was just how stories went.

“You, me, everyone. We’re all [Characters]. None of this is real. We’re fake, Prota. We’re figments of someone’s imagination. Our existence… we exist for the entertainment of others. Do you understand? This is a [Story], Prota.”

She was starting to get it. She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like she could do anything about it. All she could do was accept it and keep going.

“Is it too much? We can stop if you want.”

“Nn… I’m ok,” Prota muttered as she held her head.

“...ok.”

John sighed and let his hand rest on her head. Idle thoughts ran through his head. Her hair had gotten softer over the months now that she was taking care of it. It wasn’t nearly as tangled and messy as it’d been the first day he’d met her.

Still, he couldn’t help but regret it. It would’ve been better if she’d left him the day he’d died. She would’ve been able to live a normal life, but… no, now wasn’t the time for regrets. The decision had been made. Once the door was opened, it couldn’t be closed. They both had to keep going down the path that they’d chosen. If she was going to stay with him, she needed to know.

“There are other classifications of people as well. For example, those bandits we encountered earlier. They’re [Extras]. They kind of exist to get beat up, like metaphorical sandbags. I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea, right?”

Prota nodded.

“So you understand why we would want the [Protagonist] on our side?”

Prota nodded again. She didn’t like it. Subconsciously, it felt like she was being replaced, but she also understood the merit of strong comrades.

“What was the point of all this again? Oh, right!”

John's lips curved into a small smile.

“That boy we met earlier is probably the [Protagonist].”

Prota’s eyes widened. That small boy? What did that mean? Prota imagined a protagonist to be some knight in shining armour, an SSS class mage, or even the hero from the prophecies, but…

Wasn’t that just a tiny boy?

“Come on, black mask, cloak, fox on his shoulder… that’s prime main character material. Unless- well, maybe he’s not? I had my doubts, but it’s possible that’s just someone else…”

John was suddenly lost in thought until Zero came out and pointed at John.

“If you’re going to determine who the protagonist is based on looks, aren’t you also a prime candidate?”

Black hair. Red eye. Scarf.

“You’re just a generic fantasy protagonist or something. That’s literally what you are.”

John glared at Zero. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“It’s the truth!”

“Don’t-”

Prota went to sit on her bed. Her head was spinning. In terms of words alone, it wasn’t all that confusing, but it was just that… how could anyone accept something like this? She looked at her hands, and to her surprise, they were trembling.

She closed her eyes and fell backwards, listening to the familiar sound of John and Zero fighting. Slowly, her heart calmed down. Had she known had to smile, she would’ve. She didn’t need to worry about the world. Today was better than yesterday. As long as that was the case, then story or not, she didn’t need to worry.

~~~

“Thank you,” Katheryne said as John handed in the forms. “Are you sure you don’t want to take the test yourself?”

John shrugged. “Is it possible for a manaless person to become an adventurer?”

“M-manaless? Well, technically speaking yes, however-”

“Is there any good reason for me to become an adventurer?”

“Well, you can’t sell any beasts you hunt, and you won’t be able to accept quests…”

Katheryne went on and on while naming various benefits John wouldn’t be able to use, but the one that intrigued him the most was something about dungeons.

“Dungeons? I can’t enter them?”

“Oh, yes. They’re always watched by guards, so you need an adventurer’s licence to enter one, on top of other requirements.”

John rubbed his chin. “Is there any other way to get in?”

“No.”

“Mm…”

John was reluctant to leave a trail of information behind, but he also couldn’t afford to let Prota go into a dungeon all by herself. He’d be able to tell if she died and could just reset after, but at that point, if he was going to treat her like that, he might as well not keep her around at all.

“Mm… fine. I’ll take the test, too.”

“Very well! Just fill out these forms.”

“Is there a reason you’re pressing me so hard on this?” John said, busily filling out the papers.

“Ah, well, you see… the admissions test takes place only once a month, and the test is today, so…”

“Ah. Thank you,” John said. She was just trying to help. It was good thing that he’d listened.

An hour or so later, John and Prota were in a small room filled with people and a glowing orb at the front. The most noticeable of them were a rough looking man, a woman who appeared to be a mage, and Fate.

John cast a quick peek at the silver haired boy, who seemed to be paying no attention to him. Well, it made sense. It wasn’t as if there was anything to notice about him. In a town with hundreds of people, he was just another one of them.

“Everyone! May I get your attention?”

A thin, pale man with long ears and long blonde hair stood at the front. He was almost feminine in appearance, but he was most definitely male.

“Hello, everyone. My name is Elfin. Your registration process will now begin. Please, step up and place your hand on the orb when I call your name.”

John raised his eyebrows. The mana core system.

It was standard to most fantasy stories. D to SSS class, with SSS classes being a level above everyone else. The man had a C rank core, while the woman had an B rank core.

“Fate,” Elfin called out, and the masked boy stepped forwards. Placing his hand on the orb, it started off glowing brown, then blue, then green, which was impressive enough for what appeared to be a child, but then it kept going. Yellow, orange, then red. Elfin’s eyes shot wide open.

“A- A rank core?”

There was an audible gasp in the room, but John looked bored.

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“He’s the protagonist. What did you expect?” he muttered to himself. “He should be an S class if anything.”

“I- I’ve never seen an A rank core for someone your age,” Elfin stammered.

“Thank you,” Fate said. His voice was masked and muffled, making it unidentifiable.

Elfin nodded, quickly regaining his composure. “I Understand.”

“Prota Char!”

Prota looked at John nervously, but he just nodded. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen.”

From what John knew, cores were judged on how much mana they could hold and not anything else. If he was correct, then Prota’s unique ability shouldn’t affect the test. She still had a finite capacity to how much mana she could store at a time; the only unique aspect was that mana was taken from other living beings rather than the environment.

She put her hand on the ball, trembling, but it lit up brown, then blue, then it stopped.

“D rank,” Elfin announced, writing it down on his noteboard. “Finally… John Quarta?”

John stood up and walked over to the orb. He was visibly bored, as if this whole charade was a waste of time.

“Can’t I just identify myself as coreless and move on?” he grumbled.

“Coreless or not, we need to verify it,” Elfin explained calmly.

“Fine.”

He put his hand on the orb, ignoring the whispering behind him. He wasn’t here to gain prestige, and he didn’t care about developing a good reputation. There were other ways to convince the [Protagonist], and if they were a fame hungry hog, John had no intention of working with them in the first place.

The only partner he’d ever truly need was Prota.

“You may take your hand off,” Elfin told John.

The orb was still black.

“What did I say?” John shrugged but walked back to Prota, who looked at him with curious eyes.

“No mana?” she whispered.

“What, did you think I’d be an S class mage or something?”

“Mm…”

John just stared at her. Did he need to drill the lesson into her head? She seemed to see him as some kind of almighty warrior, which was definitely not a good thing. The longer she believed he could fight, the less she’d feel the need to win for both of them. And he really, really needed her to win for both of them.

The rest of the participants went up without any further issues. It seemed that today would be rather uneventful.

“Everyone, follow me. We’ll be heading over to the testing grounds now.”

The group stood up in unison and followed the elf out of the room to a large open field. The ground was barren, still scorched with a few blast marks here and there. A cool breeze blew as everyone stared at their next task, a mock battle.

Suddenly, a man ran out, heading towards Elfin. “Sir…”

There was some furious whispering, followed by a frown, then a nod.

“Hm. I see. Well, if that’s the case, then there is nothing we can do.” Elfin cleared his throat and turned to the crowd. “Everyone, we will be joined by another participant. This will in no way affect your standing, so there is no need for concern. I just ask that you wait a little while.”

Everyone frowned and looked back and forth. Another participant? This late in the process?

“Watch,” John grumbled. “It’s gonna be some rich brat that can’t keep their mouth shut. I was really hoping we wouldn’t have to deal with this…”

His voice sounded truly pained, as if someone had physically assaulted him. Prota looked up at him. What?

“Don’t worry about it,” John sighed as he sat down. “Just wait.”

Soon, a boy with blond hair and blue eyes came out of the room they’d just been in, wearing a green cloak with gold clasps and expensive-looking battle gear. Prota looked at John. It did appear that the kid was rich, but…

“Everyone, this is Draco Wynton. He will be joining us for the combat assessment.”

He nodded, but the look in his eyes was that of superiority. He snorted and tossed his head as he sat down, clearly distancing himself from everyone else. There were two attendants next to him: a woman who appeared to be a mage and a man who seemed to be a swordsman of some sort.

“Wonderful,” John grumbled to himself. “What a clever and original character design.”

Prota looked away. It seemed that he was set on something about this boy, but…

“The test will commence!”

~~~

Half an hour had passed, and John was growing bored. Prota was napping on his lap, and his legs were starting to fall asleep. He was glad to see that she was comfortable with him now, but his legs were starting to buzz with that feeling when one’s limbs fell asleep.

“We are done here,” John heard from the field. The woman looked a bit beat up, but Elfin looked as refreshed as ever. “Prota Char.”

John shook Prota awake, and she blinked sleepily before looking around.

“Your turn,” John said. “Don’t overdo it, ok?”

He looked at her, and a little message appeared in her system. She froze, but she couldn’t get surprised every time something like this happened. She forced herself to calm down and read. It’d come from John. Well, that was to be expected. He was the only person who could send a message. But why use the system? Why not just say whatever he had to say?

[Just fire. No ice magic.]

Prota looked back at John. No ice magic? Why not?

[Just trust me, ok? No ice. Not here.]

Well, she supposed something like that warranted secrecy. Prota nodded, got up, and trotted over to the field where Elfin stood. As she took her place, the elf observed her with a mix of curiosity and pity.

“You do realize that I cannot take it any easier on you just because of your age, correct?”

Prota nodded.

“Very well then. The test shall commence.”

Elfin unsheathed his sword and stood, waiting for Prota’s first move. However, she didn’t attack. Instead, her eyes were focused on his chest, where she could see a glowing white orb. The energy inside felt turbulent, wild, yet calm at the same time.

Closing her eyes, she reached out her tendrils and took as much mana as her core could hold. Thankfully, Elfin didn’t notice anything was off, and it didn’t seem that anyone in the audience had noticed anything either.

She paused for a moment to concentrate, forming a fireball and compressing it, repeating the process repeatedly until she had a fireball with five times as much energy as usual. Drained of mana, she immediately drew some more from Elfin, who, once again, didn’t notice anything.

“Ha!”

Prota grunted as she threw the fireball forward, then immediately formed another one, throwing it down to create a smokescreen. If there was anything she’d learned from fighting the bandits, it was that she held the advantage in an area with impaired visibility. She could see Elfin’s core, but he couldn’t see her.

“Ah!”

Prota gasped as she barely dodged the thin blade that seemed to come out of nowhere. She lept back, making distance for herself, then launched a couple of fireballs, hoping to do some damage. However, as the dust cleared, Elfin remained unharmed. Apparently, that assumption was no longer true.

“For a child, you’re quite experienced. It’s almost as if you’ve fought in real combat before. And your spells are incredible. To have mastered chantless casting for low level spells… who taught you?”

He rushed back in, blade flashing, and Prota barely had time to process what was happening before leaping back again just in time to avoid another cut. Her spells were limited to fireballs, and the compressed fireball was a spell that took a lot of time for her to create.

“You’ve done well so far. I’ll step it up a notch.”

Elfin’s speed increased as wind began swirling around his feet. If she’d been able to keep up at all before, she was definitely struggling now, trying frantically to hit this blur of a target.

As she dodged the various attacks coming her way, she racked her brain for a way to win, but without ice magic, it seemed impossible. She cursed her lack of knowledge. All she could really do was throw fireballs around, and there was a limit to how effective that could be.

Besides that, she was starting to think her opponent might’ve been a sword master or something of the sort, which was definitely an opponent she couldn’t deal with. She threw another fireball, but her chest was tight as she drew in another breath. She was nearing her limit. Was this really it?

Elfin seemed to notice this as well, and posed for a final attack. His sword started to glow, wind gathering at the tip.

“...?” John frowned. Wasn’t that a bit too much magic for someone like Prota?

“Too much. That’s overkill,” he heard Fate say.

Elfin’s attack could really hurt Prota.

“Here I come!” he exclaimed, rushing forwards with incredible speed.

Prota’s soul jumped, but she kept it under control, her brain working furiously. There was no way fire magic would get her out of this. She was starting to panic. There was no way she could dodge this either. Maybe if she used ice…

Suddenly, the mana she’d absorbed from Elfin jumped up in her core, flowing through her body. The feeling of a restless storm wrapped it as a smooth breeze blew through it. Her body felt lighter, quicker, better than before.

John had never told her to use only fire magic, only that she couldn’t use ice magic. If she was going to get stronger, then she would use everything she had. She was still losing, still weak. She wasn’t exactly strong in spells, but she could make up for quality with quantity.

More. She needed more.

A gust formed in her hand, and a burst of wind pushed her away just in time to dodge Elfin’s attack. Her eyes flashed as another gust of wind pushed her up, and she formed a fireball overhead.

“Haah!” she yelled, and the fireball crashed down.

A massive cloud of dust rose as it connected with Elfin.

“What the-”

John choked out, waving the dust away. When he could finally see again, Prota was flat on the floor, Elfin standing over her with an impressed look. No way. That fireball had just hit the examiner full on, and the elf was barely scratched. Just how powerful was this enemy?

“Very impressive. I’ll be sure to remember this.”

John ran over to Prota. To his relief, she was fine, just fatigued, so he picked her up without a second look at Elfin. He held worriedly, but seeing her health bar in his system, she appeared to be fine. Injured and life threatening were two different things. He carried her back to the sidelines, where he propped her up against a wall.

“Good job, Prota,” he said, putting his hand on her head. “You did really good.”

Her eyes shone as John complimented her. Still shining, she closed them and fell asleep, her stamina spent.

However, John couldn’t ignore the whispers behind him.

“A dual elementalist?”

“No way.”

“But you saw the fire, right? And the wind? How do you explain that? I thought children only ever started off with one element…”

He grimaced. He’d asked Prota to avoid using ice magic for this very reason, but he hadn’t considered that she’d use a new ability. This confirmed it. Wielding two elements was… rare? He’d have to look into it. Speaking of which, where exactly had that wind magic come from?

“John Quarta. You’re up.”

John got up and stretched. It was something he’d have to think about later. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out pair of gloves and slipped them on. They weren’t gauntlets, but rather gloves to protect his knuckles when he punched. It was a weapon of sorts. He didn’t use them very often, but what did he have to lose?

He wasn’t going to win. It was simply a matter of how long he could hold out.

“Hey, Elfin,” John called out. “You wouldn’t be open to giving me a handicap or anything, right?”

He heard Draco snicker behind him, but he ignored it. The opinion of a stereotypical noble wasn’t going to upset him. At least, not this early on.

“I’m afraid not. This test is to see whether or not you would survive in the wild. I don’t think a wild beast would stop to give you a handicap, although if you managed that, I’d love to hear the story.”

John shrugged. “Damn. It was worth a try.”

He wasn’t going to win. He just needed to survive for a bit, lose, then go back to his seat. That was all he needed to do. But then why was his heart beating? He could feel his body warming up, blood pumping through his veins, the pistons in his brain pumping once again, dusting off the engine that hadn’t been used in so long.

…why now? Since when was he excited for fights? John looked at his hands, and to his surprise, they were shaking. Not in fear, but anticipation.

He was going to lose. It was unavoidable. There was nothing he could do about it. Even the [Protagonist] was likely to lose here. But despite knowing all that, despite knowing that he was incredibly outclassed, he wanted to win.

Why?

He didn’t know.

At the very least, John had one thing going for him. He was no master of martial arts. He was no sword master, no archmage, but his thousands of years of experience couldn’t be entirely useless, right? There was still something ingrained in his body. Still a primal urge to fight.

John’s body settled into a relaxed combat stance, his arms out and ready.

“No weapon? Not even a sword?”

“Nah. No point.”

“...very well then,” Elfin nodded. It was a strange decision, but ultimately, it was up to the candidate.

“The test shall commence.”