So many stations. So many people.
He’d seen the room and its vast size and many stations before the Junior’s Advancement had begun. It had been busy then and bustling with people doing preparations. But it had been within estimation, if not a little lower.
The scale was different now. People crowded along every corner, looking at stations, engaging in conversations left and right. Though the heaters were not at full blast, the heat from the visitors made it warm inside of the building. Demund’s heart beat faster with every second, and he looked at other stations through his phone, wondering if he could manage to emerge first among so many competitors.
He put away his phone. There would be no problems—he needed more confidence. He was beginning to learn that now. Without confidence, he hadn’t been able to do what he’d wanted in the other world. He’d need it now to be selected.
The competition would last six days, with votes being cast at the end of each day. Contrary to his assumptions, only those who had been voted enough would be able to present at the front on the third day. Those who didn’t get enough votes would have to close and pack their stations at the end of the second day. He’d come here with a light heart, but being amongst those who wanted to prove themselves, his muscles tensed.
They did have a huge advantage, however. TISE High was a well-known school with past winners. Even though the Junior’s Advancement had just begun, people were crowding in front of them, so much that Demund had to take off his jacket. Most of them were marveling over Enariss’s station, and others were playing with the machines Edan had created on his table.
And him? People were glancing at his, but no one came to ask. He even saw some raise a few eyebrows after reading his poster.
Had it been a bad idea to name his station The Magic of SAP Manipulation? No, that couldn’t be it. People were asking him questions. It was just that conversations went like this:
Person: “This is interesting. What do you mean by ‘SAP is like programming’?”
Demund: “Like coding, you can code SAP to create a magic-like occurrence. Our world doesn’t have an advanced system, but I can create magic to a small extent.”
Person: “Isn’t that superpowers?”
And they would lose interest. Topics having to do with superpowers had never been winners of past competitions. He’d prepared so much for presenting at the front that he was doing bad at convincing people face-to-face. He’d never been good at dealing with people upfront in both worlds. It had caused him a lot of misery, and he hated it.
Lunch finally came. Maybe it showed in his expression, But Mr. Hothman encouraged him, saying that he’d get more visitors throughout the day.
“As long as you're with us, you’ll get plenty of attention,” he said. “I know your project is impressive. Don’t lose hope so soon.”
He was a good man. Gentle, kind, and supportive. Demund could see why he had been selected as their advisor.
“Do you have a social media account?” Enariss asked after they’d eaten. “Advertising is important, you know. People can vote for you online as long as they’re verified.”
“Advertising?” Demund gawked.
“Naturally. People can’t vote for your project if they don’t know it exists. Look—the school uploaded our projects on their account.”
It was true. On the school’s various accounts, their stations had been photographed and were getting likes. He’d never used social media aside from chatting with his friends, so it came as a shock to him.
“If you upload your project on your account, I can tag it,” Enariss offered. “I have quite a few followers.”
He did so, and he could see that she’d tagged Edan’s project already. Demund’s heart sank when the first comment he received was,
“They let you research superpowers? Wow, must have good connections…”
“Ignore them,” Enariss advised. “You’ll only be discouraged. Try not to argue, or you’ll fall into a deeper hole. I know your project will do great.”
Still, Demund knew he’d have to do something different. All of his preparations were inside of his presentation, and he couldn’t display it properly in this small station of his. Time ticked by, and each visitor that passed by after glancing at his station made him hurt inside. Around two hours after lunch had passed, he decided to change his approach.
Seven votes so far. Two of them from Riley and Rhyne, two from his parents, one from him, one from Mrs. Prater, his biology teacher, and the last one from a stranger whose name he didn’t know. Compared to Enariss’s thousands, he was failing miserably.
Only by presenting would he be able to be judged by the official examiners. Then votes by popularity wouldn’t matter as much. He just had to make it there somehow.
Demund created a large poster that read, ‘Try magic now! Anyone can do it!’ in front of his station, and soon enough, a kid came up to him. Demund smiled. Any and all votes would be important to him.
“Don’t you mean superpowers?” the boy asked, crossing his arms. “It’s kind of outdated to call this magic. What’s this? Magic crystals? I’ve never seen them. They look pretty.”
“Can you use any powers?” Demund asked. He couldn’t believe how grateful he was towards a random child.
“No. My SAP level is good, but my power didn’t form yet. Okay, show me magic.”
“Alright. Take a look.”
He had a limited amount of crystals, and it pained him to use it this way, but he couldn’t ignore the boy. If children swarmed to his station wanting to try it out, he’d have to expend all of the precious crystals he’d created. Saving three, he’d use them all for the sake of gaining votes.
Demund raised a finger, casting a small flame on it. “See this? It’s magic.”
“You mean superpowers?”
“Maybe. Now, I can’t use it much because it takes a lot of energy, but if we use this crystal—here, show me your hand.”
Demund placed a rice-sized crystal on the boy’s palm. “Don’t worry, I’ll be using light magic.”
“You can create fire and light?”
“Yes, by learning them. Magic is like programming SAP.”
Demund placed a spark of light magic onto the crystal, which began to glow in white light. “I’m putting my hand away now,” Demund explained. “I’m not using any powers anymore.”
“But it’s still glowing!” the boy exclaimed.
“See? Magic. It lasts around forty seconds.”
That was the extent rats could make. Weeks and weeks of work for roughly forty seconds of light that wasn’t that bright. It pained him, but that was the best he could do.
“You could tell your friends—”
“This is cool!”
The boy dashed off into the crowd, which was now looser, but enough people existed to block the boy from view. Before Demund could tell him to come back with his precious crystal, he vanished.
One crystal gone. Just a few more remaining. Demund prayed that his hard work would be noticed.
But few came. No one had seen the boy use magic, and the light had been too weak to attract attention. His potential voter was gone now along with one of his precious resources.
When dinner approached, people began to leave. The Junior’s Advancement would last until ten at night, but most of the visitors would be at home by then. Demund had used two crystals so far, another one for another boy who’d given him his vote for showing him a cool ‘magic trick’. It was a vote, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly discouraged.
To Demund’s delight, the boy returned, this time with his father. Upon his request, Demund expended another crystal. He felt happy when the father filmed it, though it still hurt to use two crystals on the same person.
At least the boy enjoyed it a lot. That was nice, though Demund realized why he’d come back so late. Not a second had passed before the boy rushed to Edan’s station, which was now less crowded, to play with the machines, completely forgetting about Demund.
“Thank you,” the father said instead, giving him his vote. “Your magic was interesting. I’ve never seen fuel that expends itself completely. Does it turn into gas?”
“It returns to nothing,” Demund said. “Like superpowers.”
“I see. Well, thank you for the demonstration.”
The father went to accompany the boy, and soon, dinner arrived. Demund and everyone from his school ate packed meals outside, and after a little discussion, he discovered that he had the least votes out of all of them.
“I’ll put in my vote for you if you two don’t mind,” Ms. Clarn said, glancing at Enariss and Edan.
“I don’t mind,” Enariss nodded.
“Sure,” Edan replied.
Demund was happy he’d gotten another voter, though it felt slightly forced. He didn’t want to look at the rankings online. It would only make his spirit falter. After Mr. Hothman’s cheering, they returned to their stations once more to greet the last set of visitors.
“Make sure to stay alert,” Mr. Hothman warned. “Some of the examiners like to visit during this period to look for hidden gems.”
A little hope would be good for him. With his circulation, he could prevent himself from becoming sleepy, though he had to make sure not to overuse it. Enariss looked unfazed, though Edan looked bored. Demund wondered if anyone would come to visit them. It wouldn’t matter for the other two though because they had enough votes to make it through the first round. Edan was quite popular on social media—it was probably why Demund had recalled seeing him from somewhere.
Passing through popularity. It somehow didn’t feel fair. Just one round—if he just passed this, his presentation would do its job. He wished and wished, waiting for anyone to take notice of him.
Demund was surprised when one man did come, completely ignoring Enariss’s and Edan’s stations to come to his. Before Demund could say anything, he snatched the bottle of crystals from the table and examined it closely, eyes widening and narrowing as he exhaled deeply.
“Where did you get this?” the man demanded, not placing the bottle down.
“I created it. The steps are on the poster,” Demund said.
“Yes, but is that possible?” he went on. “How can you control SAP in such a way? Is it part of your power? Simply injecting an animal with SAP should not form crystals within its body, as the wavelengths of energy and the capacity to form would be mismatched.”
Demund gaped.
He’d hit the jackpot. This was someone who knew about SAP.
“I’ve learned how to do it with constant repetition,” Demund explained. “My ability allows me to live another life in a world where magic exists. I’ve learned the feelings from there to recreate it in this world. When you create crystals in animals, you need to condense their SAP, but not only in one position. If you let it saturate over a long time, the animal will naturally form a crystal itself. No, wait—there is a certain feeling involved, but I can’t explain it. It’s like a squeeze and a mush.”
The man pursed his lips. “Your ability allows you to live in another world. I have never heard of such a power. Perhaps it is a dream or a hyper-realistic hallucination?”
“Maybe, but I can replicate magic from there in this world.”
“So no one has provided you with these crystals. You made them yourself.”
“Yes.”
“Give me a demonstration on its use. I am interested in how you use this as fuel. Something other than light, if you can.”
He was very quick-paced, and his words were like machine-gun bullets ramming into Demund. But he knew he couldn’t falter.
“Is fire good?”
“Yes, it will do.”
Demund pinched a crystal between tweezers and summoned a flame on his finger. He then willed the magic to spread onto the crystal and stopped—the fire on the crystal kept burning. Unlike the light, however, it vanished after a few seconds.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“I can’t create high-energy crystals,” Demund told the man. “I don’t have enough SAP, and it takes a very long time to create one. These are from rats. I have a few with algae, which are easier to energize, but they are far weaker.”
“How would you use these energy sources in the future? What inventions existed in the other world?”
“Lots. From household appliances to automatic doors, telekinesis, magic, stealth, teleportation, explosions, and more. The possibilities are endless. But I can’t replicate them all. To use magic efficiently, you need a magic language, similar to a programming language. And to create that, you would need the power of a god.”
For magic to be used around the world, it would need a limitless source of mana flying throughout the planet, like the one at the Great Library in Saiton. A dragon took care of things there, but here, Demund didn’t know where to begin.
The man asked a few more questions, all of which Shaden was able to answer. Then the questions became off-topic.
“Do you have anyone you are in contact with at the Preliminary Islands? Perhaps they told you about something.”
“I have a friend, but his letters were censored in some parts.”
And the like, mostly about if he had any connections to people in the Islands. But the more he answered, the more puzzled the man became. Out of the intensity of the moment, Demund found himself telling many things about his life, how he’d grown up, how his parents were average workers, how he was at TISE High with a scholarship. He’d been desperate for questions, and he answered them all.
“When I saw your project, I knew I had to see it in person,” the man said. “I am Manis Folar, and I must know that you are not lying to me. Are the things you have said the absolute truth?”
“Yes, Mr. Folar.”
“You can call me Doctor Folar.”
Demund took the extended hand that the man offered and shook it. The man’s grip was firm.
“I hope you remember me,” the man told him. “I would like to discuss more things. Here is my contact. I’d like it if you gave me yours.”
“Of course.”
Demund was surprised to see that the man was labeled as a doctor from the Preliminary Islands. Perhaps he was a famous person, someone significant. The doctor gave Demund his vote, took one crystal for examination, and said goodbye. Demund could feel hope rising in him. If the man had a lot of influence, he would be able to boost the number of votes he had to let him pass.
When they were done, Mr. Hothman congratulated him after he told him what had happened.
“A doctor from the Islands!” he applauded. “It’s like grasping for the stars to be a researcher at the Islands. They’re very confidential. Demund, by building this connection, you’ve opened a new path for yourself. You could find a career at the Islands as a researcher.”
Demund didn’t particularly want to become a researcher. He wasn’t sure of what he wanted to become. But it was good to hear that something had worked out for him.
They returned to their rooms after they’d finished. Mr. Hothman had prepared some fried chicken for the guys to eat, and trying not to be awkward, Demund ate his fill, talked a little with Edan, took a shower first (since he was the youngest), and went to bed after browsing his phone for a while. His votes had increased by then. He was now in the thirties range.
Enariss had passed ten thousand, and it was their first day when people were still deciding who to vote for. Considering that one person could only vote once, it was an amazing number.
He eventually fell asleep, nervous and excited for the events that would happen the next day.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“What in the world?”
When they woke up for breakfast, Demund was surprised to see that his post had suddenly amassed a large number of comments from strangers he didn’t know. His joy went down slightly when he noticed that the comments were mostly from a few people discussing amongst themselves, but it was a huge morale booster for the day. He’d even received a friend request from the man from the day before.
Yet—his vote count hadn’t increased significantly. It had doubled and was close to tripling, but that still wasn’t a hundred. He shut off his device, determined to get through the day—but what could he do? He’d use all of his crystals at this point.
Demund sighed, his happiness short-lived.
The building was packed like the day before, perhaps even more so, and countless new faces passed them, all attracted to Enariss’s project. Edan was still as popular as ever with children and tech-savvy people. There was even a group of important-looking suited men who engaged in an extended conversation with Enariss, looking very interested in what she had to offer.
And him?
It was worse than yesterday. News had spread, but not for him. Because of the crowds of visitors who’d come to see Enariss’s project and Edan’s (the guy was much more popular than he’d thought), his was overshadowed. He could only try to keep smiling, hoping that one of the people who were waiting for their turn would ask him about his project, but they all seemed preoccupied. A few of them did ask, but the result was the same—his project was related to superpowers, and that wasn’t interesting.
However, he was happy to find out during lunch that his voter count had increased, and more people had begun to take notice of the post he had created. A few enthusiasts of the supernatural, no doubt, judging by their words, and other researchers from the Islands. So far, he was doing better than yesterday.
But would it be enough to make him pass? There were those with fewer votes than him, and many with more. He couldn’t afford to look at all of the participants of the Junior’s Islands, but at a glance, he was performing slightly below average. It wouldn’t be enough, but there was nothing more he could do.
Well, Mr. Hothman had been right. He’d earned something from this event. Connections and experience. While he wasn’t doing superb, it felt nice to have someone care about his hard work.
Though, he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t disappointed. Compared to the hours he’d put into his project, the results were mediocre. This was his extent. He was from a normal family, surrounded by the rich and powerful. He didn’t blame them. He’d done his best, and they’d done the same. They’d done their research, he’d copied things off from a library.
He could accept it. There was no point in being bitter. As heavy as his heart had become, he’d endured worse. Compared to the stress he’d felt stuck in the middle of military men, this was much more relaxing. Maybe he had grown a little, though he still thought that the training had been pointless.
He became lost in his thoughts, feelings of regret forming from the depths of his heart. Had he wasted too much time as Shaden? Should he have done his project on something else? There had been other options, but they’d all required lots of mana and precise tools—all of which he didn’t have. He’d gone with the options that had been available. Maybe he should have put himself at risk to replicate the more advanced experiments or searched for magic that would allow him to create precise tools that he’d be able to use. But no—he’d gone with the flow. He’d been too lax as Shaden, thinking that his efforts as Demund would be enough.
“Um, hello? Are you operating?” a voice piped up.
Demund blinked, returning to the present. There was a girl before him with dazzling blue hair. She was stylishly clothed and had a small drone filming her behind her.
“Are you interested?” Demund asked, feeling hopeful again.
“Yes!” the girl exclaimed. “You can create magic, right?”
She looked to be older than him, though her youth had been masterfully preserved. Light makeup, but she was very attractive.
“I can.”
“Looks like we’ve found our source, everyone!” she happily said towards her drone. “But whether or not this will be real, we’ll have to find out.”
Demund saw passersby throw her glances. Some were even taking their phones out to film her. Even the children, who’d been arguing in front of Edan’s station over who’d go next, stopped to stare.
“So, please explain,” she said, turning to him. “Oh, crystals! Is this related to magic?”
“Yes. They’re a fuel source,” Demund replied.
“Wow, just like in books! You know, I’ve always thought that if superpowers exist, then magic should too. But we haven’t seen any spirits or ghosts or monsters around. How tragic is that? Do you agree with me, Mr. Potential-Proof-Of-Magic?”
“It’s Demund.
“Mr. Demund?”
“No, Demund is my name.”
“I’m Aia,” the girl said, reaching out her hand. “Aia Laia, your daily dose of the occult and supernatural! Thank you for the donation, GoofyLion, and yes, this might be the real deal.”
A streamer? He hadn’t watched those in a long time. He took the hand and shook it briefly.
“You can call it magic, but it has similar roots as superpowers,” Demund explained. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel nervous. His desperation for votes was changing him, and his circulation was reinforcing it. “Supernatural Acclimatization Particles. By using these as building blocks, you can create magic, similar to coding electrical devices. But because our world doesn’t have a set SAP language, I can only replicate simple spells. Think of it as creating a program with only ones and zeroes.”
“That sounds scientific, but I like it,” Aia nodded. “Can you use curses or blessings?”
“Those would be too complicated.”
“That’s what he says, everyone.”
“But it’s not impossible. You can’t create an advanced application in a day. It’s the same with magic.”
“Oh, oh, now I’m excited. What spells can you use?”
His project was supposed to be on utilizing SAP, not on magic itself, but he’d forgotten about that now.
“Fire, light, water, earth is a little hard, wind is simple enough.”
“Could we see it all?” Aia asked expectantly. “Another donation! Proof that this isn’t a superpower? Hmm, we’ll have to see.”
“Anyone can use magic, unlike superpowers,” Demund told her, glancing at the drone. “First, this is magic.”
He raised a finger, creating a small flame. Aia clapped her hands softly. Demund turned the flame into light—a glowing orb the size of a marble. Next, he pointed his finger at the girl, and her hair began to wave gently behind her.
“Earth magic is very similar to telekinesis,” Demund said. “I’m not very good at it.”
It used too much mana too. He didn’t want to exhaust himself.
“Wow, I’ve never seen someone with so much variety!” Aia giggled. “But this doesn’t prove anything yet. Do you have proof?”
“I do.”
Demund fished out the largest crystal he had and displayed it before her. “This is an SAP crystal. You can harvest it from animals by condensing your SAP into them, but apparently, it’s very difficult.”
“It must be because I’ve never heard of people creating them.”
Demund nodded. “Could I see your hand for a second?”
“Oh, go ahead. Don’t be shy.”
What an energetic person, Demund thought. He placed the crystal on her palm, and she blinked at it.
“Now?”
“Now, I put a magical spark on it,” Demund told her. “Fire or light? Light lasts longer.”
“Light, please!”
Demund allowed the threads of mana to interact with the crystal, and immediately, the magic took hold, glowing softly.
“Now, I’m not using any powers right now,” Demund said, raising his hands. “The crystal is glowing on its own. When the magic uses all of the energy of the crystal, it will return to nothing.”
The drone zoomed into her hand, and smiling mischievously, the girl clasped her hands around the crystal, turning around, hiding it from Demund’s sight.
“It’s still glowing,” she observed.
Demund shrugged. A minute passed by quickly, and she turned to him, her eyes full of expectation.
“It’s completely gone,” she observed, feeling her palm.
“That’s what magic is like,” Demund agreed.
“Can I have a crystal?” she asked.
Demund glanced at his bottle. He had a little under ten now. He looked at the drone. How many people would be viewing him?
“It takes a long time to make,” Demund said, “but if you vote for me, I could give you one.”
“The law of equivalent exchange,” the girl frowned. “I can do that.”
She quickly tapped on her phone, and another vote registered itself. Demund handed her the crystal, and she looked at it, smiling from ear to ear.
“It looks pretty. Will it vanish if I use my power on it?”
“I have no idea. I never tried it out.”
“Maybe I could have another one to test it?”
Demund shook his head. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she nodded.
A few seconds passed without anyone saying anything. Demund wondered why she wasn’t leaving.
“Do...you want a photo?” the girl eventually asked, clearly confused.
“Uh, sure?”
Though a little awkward, Demund stepped out and stood next to her while the drone focused on them. She did a victory pose and put on the brightest smile.
“Could you use some light magic for the photo?” she asked. “I can create light too.”
“Oh, that’s cool.”
They took the photo, Demund holding a small orb of light while the girl made a heart out of sparkling particles of various colors. It was like a hologram, but it reminded Demund of smoke, kind of like an aurora. After they were done, the girl did a cute bow, waved to him, and left, the drone following behind her.
Only then did Demund realize the crowd that had been watching. Curious eyes looked his way, and within minutes, people had begun approaching him.
By dinner, he had two crystals left. Every visitor afterwards had wanted to see the crystals themselves, some offering their votes, and he had had to apologize, saying that he only had a limited amount. There were recordings online, so they could take a look at them. People had lessened after he’d taken down his makeshift sign, but compared to the day before, it was a colossal improvement.
“Please, please, please, please—”
Holding his breath, he peeked at the voter count. When he saw three—no, four digits, he couldn’t help but burst into a cry of joy, causing Enariss to look at him funnily.
“I think I’ll pass,” he told her, and she grinned.
“I didn’t expect you to go out so easily anyway,” she shrugged.
Whoever that Aia Laia person had been, she’d boosted his vote count massively. When he saw her friend request pop up, he immediately accepted it. Out of curiosity, he clicked on her profile and looked at her page.
His eyes almost popped out of his eyes.
“A few…...million?”
That was the number of followers she had. He laughed weakly. He’d thought of her as an eccentric steamer, but it appeared to him that her interest in the supernatural was just a hobby. She was a musical artist—a celebrity, coming out in online searches just by her name.
Had he lived under a rock? He’d never paid attention to famous people, nor did he listen to much music. No wonder she’d waited for him to ask for pictures.
Compared to the millions she had, a thousand votes seemed small. But he was the happiest he’d ever been in a long time, happy enough to jump up and down for hours. Taking in a deep breath, he calmed himself.
It wasn’t over yet. He couldn’t be happy for striking lucky once. No; now was when he had to prove himself in front of the masses.
The number of visitors decreased significantly at night, and at nine, the qualifiers were announced. Demund threw a victorious fist in the air after seeing that he’d passed, and Mr. Hothman clapped for him, making him a little embarrassed.
“I knew you could do it,” the man said. Demund could only nod his head.
The disqualifiers began to pack and leave, and looking at the different students consoling each other, some even crying, he felt slightly guilty for being lucky, for having access to another world’s knowledge. But he’d move on. He’d done his best. A bit of luck had pushed him forward.
He’d go on.
He’d aim for the top.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
Shaden aimed his blast rod. A surge of power, smooth and masterfully controlled. When he released the explosion, the bullet blasted forward, striking a target a kilometer away.
“On the head, again,” Pillen whistled. “You’re the best marksman I’ve ever seen.”
Shaden loaded another bullet, sending it flying again. Pillen squinted, covering the sun with his hand.
“Perfect shot, again,” he said. “I have nothing left to teach you.”
“You were a great teacher.”
Shaden got up, dusting his knees. It was all too simple for him who had boundless magic.
“It would be good if you were able to join us during the Winter Trials,” Pillen sighed, rubbing his hands. “What will you do now?”
Shaden turned around, looking at the man. They were on good terms now, though the squadron still treated him like an invisible person. However, Patran had told him many things about life at Fort Avagal. Their customs, manners, likes and dislikes, what they approved of, and what they didn’t…
He didn’t want to become like them. But he couldn’t leave. They were living in the same fortress, and he couldn’t let this experience hinder him.
He didn’t want to be a loser when he had everything. The more he’d looked back on his past decisions in this world, the more pathetic he’d seemed.
No—it was time to be confident. At least now, Pillen knew of his capabilities. All of the Nieuts did.
He knew enough now. He was prepared.
It was time to tackle everything over again.