The trees around me were tall, the sunlight filtering through the canopy created beams of golden light that illuminated the otherwise drab forest floor to reveal an utter lack of animal life.

I pulled my white student’s robe tight around my body to help stave off the chilly autumn wind. It was the symbol that represented my enrollment into the imperial academy as a first year, and I was doing my best to keep it clean.

In spite of that, the recent rainfall had made the ground sufficiently muddy to cover my leather shoes and splatter tiny brown spots up to the knees of my dark slacks. Even the robe was beginning to accumulate patches of mud along the bottom.

The least I could do was keep the shirt I got for my birthday from getting too dirty…

I glanced around to collect my bearings.

Broken branches clung desperately to the lower portions of the nearby tree via hair thin strips of bark. The bushes and small plants along the ground were stained red with blood. And to top it all off, a noxious odor permeated the air; like someone lit a bucket of feces on fire and tried to put it out with an even larger bucket of puke.

I pulled out a crudely drawn map of the area and checked my location. I trusted the person who drew the map— okay, maybe trusted was a strong word. But I had some measure of faith that they were correct. They usually were.

There’d been rumors floating around Colsir’s adventurer’s guild about some new creature who’d moved into the forest near the Imperial Academy, and a request was issued to subdue or eliminate the beast.

The locals weren’t picky. So long as it posed no further threat to them or theirs, they didn’t care what happened to it or who turned in the mission.

Which suited me perfectly. I didn’t exactly want people knowing what I did as a hobby. I was perfectly happy allowing them to keep whatever image they had of me.

My name is Aren Ulvani, and my story is complicated, with a capital C. About a year ago, while I was on my way home from a friend’s house, I passed out. No idea where I landed, but I woke up… Not there.

I awoke in the body of a twelve-year-old.

Aren Ulvani was a character from one of my all-time favorite anime’s: God’s Favored Arcanist, an Isekai anime, following the teenager Masato Yamajita’s rise to power.

As you can probably tell from our different names, I did not wake up as the protagonist. Instead, I woke up in the body of Aren (the Devil’s Duke) Ulvani. The ugly, overweight, secondary antagonist of the first season of the anime.

And to make matters worse; if I didn’t do something to change my life for the better, I wouldn’t live to see nineteen in either of my lives. Which was more than enough motivation for me to work my ass off in the hopes for a better future.

I lost enough weight to feel healthy, I had friends, and I was on my way to becoming a mage. I also had plans for the future, plans that would hopefully see a brighter destiny for not only myself, but also the people I’ve come to care about.

I had to admit, so far, things were working out for me.

I felt the ground beneath my feet tremble. The branch I mentioned before finally gave up and fell from the tree, crashing into the ground hard enough to snap in two.

The trembling continued for another forty-five seconds before I located the cause.

A gray-skinned humanoid was lumbering towards me. Standing nine feet tall and lugging around an easy six hundred pounds of pure muscle, the troll was a creature of extreme strength and vitality.

It’s single eye stared blankly ahead, and it’s fists were dragging lazily through the autumn leaves. It was unconcerned with its surroundings, and for good reason. Trolls were a class E creature, and though weak in the grand scheme of the anime, they were more than enough to subjugate the creatures living in and around the Academy.

The beasts of God’s Favored Arcanist, or GFA for short, were classified by a letter system. The ranks were F, E, D, C, B, A, S, SS.

There was rumored to be something above SS class, but I never had the chance to see it in the anime.

Despite the academy’s proximity to the impenetrable Sukon mountains— the fifteen-hundred-mile-wide mountain range that served as the veritable “Hub” of monster activity in the anime— the appearance of a class E creature wasn’t something that happened every day.

Especially not when said creature was a troll.

Trolls were isolationists who preferred to live out their existence in a single cave, or series of connected tunnels. Most trolls would rather fight to the death than flee above ground.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

So why is this one here?

When the troll was only thirty or so feet away, it’s eye swiveled to look at me. Wrinkled lips pulled back to expose brutal fangs stained with the blood of its last meal.

I threw up a hand and waved at the man-eating monster.

“Hi, I’ve been looking for you—” My voice was drowned out by a deep roar erupting from the troll’s mouth. I winced as the volume and pitch caused my eardrums to vibrate. “Jesus; that was rude.”

Despite calling out a name that, for all intents and purposes, shouldn’t exist in this world, the troll didn’t react to my words. Of course, I hadn’t really expected it to. Trolls were infamously dumb for a humanoid race.

The troll pivoted its torso and swung its arms to build up momentum as it lumbered towards me. It covered fifteen feet in three seconds and was only getting faster as it fully devoted itself to running. Within moments, this behemoth would be bearing down on my much weaker thirteen-year-old body.

I wonder what the academy is serving for dinner. I hope it’s not fire crusted rainbow trout again. I hate getting the little bones stuck in my teeth.

The moment the troll came within ten feet of me, something heavy slammed into its side and carried it to the ground with its jaws sunk into the tender flesh of the troll’s jugular.

The troll let out a bone chilling scream as it collapsed. It flailed wildly- meaty fists slamming into its attacker’s side. The trolls oppressive strength broke bones with every hit and disfigured the body of the beast holding it… But it wasn’t doing it any good.

I let out a sigh and scratched at the back of my head while I walked over to stand in front of the troll and the creature.

The creature was one of mine: a ghoul— a class D abomination that only vaguely resembled the human it once was. The grizzly bear-sized undead could move with nigh unmatched lupine grace, in spite of its misshapen body.

It’s hairless blackish-blue skin was pulled taut over a misshapen skeleton that bulged at odd angles and even pierced through in a few places. It’s jaws were too large for its skull and filled with sharp teeth capable of piercing chain mail. Its arms and legs were both enlarged and sported wickedly sharp claws capable of rending flesh and shattering stone with ease.

That was the major difference between my current life and the one Aren lived in the anime.

Aren was the son of one of the most powerful Arcanists to ever set foot in Ziral— The country I/We call home. Aren practically worshiped his father and wanted to be just like him. But he lacked the talent to be an Arcanist, and in this world, trying to learn magic without talent is a good way to cripple yourself.

It’s what happened to Aren.

The Mana Core was both a mage’s strongest weapon, and their greatest weakness— especially when they’re young and their core is still in its developmental stage.

Mages can only learn from the magic schools they possess talent for. Unlike back on earth— where talent could be cultivated or even replaced by hard work— here, talent was something that could be quantified by a machine designed by the Archmage.

In this world, “talent” was a force of nature. Not something that could be increased just because you worked harder than your peers.

It was only during season two that a beaten-down Aren learned which school he possessed talent for. No matter how hard he tried, with an Arcanist talent level of zero Aren would never be able to follow in his father’s footsteps… Because he was— I am a Summoner.

I really need to break my habit of talking about Aren in the third person. One of these days someone is going to hear me and think I’m absolutely insane.

I mentally gave the command for the ghoul to finish it— But the troll reacted in a show of surprising quickness. Grabbing the ghoul around the waist and pulling it free- seemingly unconcerned for the damage it’d just done to itself.

The troll brought a massive fist to bear and slammed it down on the Ghoul’s head, splattering it like an overripe watermelon.

“That wasn’t very nice.” I sighed and whistled a short tune, signaling for the reinforcements I knew would be nearby.

Two more ghouls fell from the trees above the troll’s head. They landed on its back with heavy thuds and sunk their rotten teeth into its shoulders - their combined weight was just enough to cause the bleeding creature to collapse to its knees.

Trolls were notoriously fast healers. They could regrow limbs, organs, even their brain if given enough time. So, it was no surprise to see the wound on its neck beginning to close… Nor was it a surprise to see the first ghoul climbing to its feet.

Because there was only one creature in the lower ranks that could heal faster than a troll. And that was the ghoul.

Its face was still slightly off from being reduced to mush, but if that bothered it, the ghoul didn’t show it.

It trotted over to the troll’s side without any expression on is malformed face, stood onto its hind legs and brought one of its bone covered fists down onto the troll’s head.

I winced at what I can only described as the sound of an egg being cracked— I

had to quickly block my face to stop a fountain of blood from reaching it as the two ghouls on its back ripped their jaws free, taking large chunks of the troll’s neck with them.

Blood gushed free from the open wounds. Flooding the ground and spraying everything in a six-foot line in front of the troll.

I was lucky enough to avoid most of the blood…Unfortunately, my robes weren’t so lucky. The white fabric was splattered with viscera, which immediately stained it red. “Son of a… Dammit.” I cursed while staring at the stain.

I glared at the ghouls, who returned my glare with a bit of mindless drooling.

My anger evaporated at the sight. I knew it wasn’t their fault, it was mine. The ghouls were only following the orders I’d given them, I was the dumbass standing in front of troll.

“It’s okay, you didn’t mean it.” The ghouls gave me dull looks and let out a quiet groans in what I could only assume was meant to be gratitude... “You know what, never mind. Can you move it on your own or do I need to summon more help—” The first ghoul sunk its fangs into troll’s arm and with a mighty yank, began dragging it towards me.

The sight somewhat reminded me of a golden retriever carrying a dead duck, only much more morbid… Especially when the troll began to struggle feebly. It’s only free hand grasping at the thin roots and grasses rising from the soil.

All of which were pulled from the ground without effort.

To avoid damaging the forest any further, I mentally commanded one of the other ghouls to grab the other arm- while I hopped onto the third ghouls back.

I winced as a bone jutted into my rear and was, once again, reminded why I needed to purchase a saddle.