"K…kh…"

The air was thick with a warm, medicinal scent as Julian lay on the cot, blinking against the harsh light above as his wounds itched. His body felt lighter, as if the weight of his wounds had dissipated with the flickering flames of the magic coming from the man sitting beside his cot.

One moment he was dying from his wounds, and now they were slowly closing.

The man was a Priest, currently healing the completely bloody Julian.

"How… the fuck is he even awake?" Marcus stood nearby, his brow knitted with shock and worry.

As for Julian, he just stared at the Priest—another Player from Earth—working diligently, his hands glowing with a soft, golden light as he mended the remnants of the fight that had nearly taken Julian's life.

"Hold on," the Priest squinted his eyes and stuck his tongue out in concentration, "Just… a bit longer."

For a moment, both the Priest and Marcus looked at Julian with disbelief. He had remained conscious the entire time, something that shouldn't really be possible unless Julian was a decorated soldier back on Earth.

Of course, Julian was in immense pain – and the only reason why he was not screaming or fainting there and then was the thought of being forced back to his blind original body.

"And… there we go," and finally, after what seemed like days of torture, the Priest stepped back as the last traces of pain faded from Julian's body,

"You're all set, tough guy. Marky, you owe me for this."

"Thank you," Julian immediately replied as he sat up, but the Priest just waved his hand and stepped out of the cabin.

"Newbie…" Marcus quickly approached, his relief evident. "You really fucking scared me, you know that? I'm going to be in big trouble if you actually fucking croaked."

"I'm… sorry," Julian could really only sigh, "I might have gotten carried away."

"Eh, that's common," Marcus handed Julian a fresh set of clothes, "What's not common is a total Newbie like you killing a pack of goblins… were you some sort of soldier back on Earth? You are an Earther, right?"

"No, and yes," Julian got up from the cot and just started undressing in front of Marcus.

"What the fuck?" Marcus just immediately turned around, "I know you're a good-looking fucking dude, but I don't swing that way, okay? Anyway… since you're already fine and all, we need to talk about the last test. I'm sure the guys above explained it to you?"

"Yes," Julian was done changing his clothes, "The mana test…?"

"Right," Marcus glanced at Julian before turning to him when he saw he was done changing, "We need to measure your mana and aptitude for magic. Unfortunately, the scientists who are tasked to test you are out hunting right now."

"Oh…"

"Yup," Marcus let out a very long and deep sigh, "But hey, why don't you explore Archon a bit while you wait? It's the town of newbies like you. There's plenty to see, there are veteran players here too, like the Priest who healed you."

"...Sure," Julian hummed.

"Just be careful, though," Marcus continued, his tone dropping to a whisper as he leaned closer to Julian, "Don't reveal that you're a Player to anyone. There are Hyums around and we all sort of automatically understand each other here, magic. What can I say? And please, don't stray too far like last time. Stay in the town."

"I got it, thank you."

"And one last thing," Marcus handed Julian a small pouch. "Here. This is your 'Newbie Package' – sponsored by Humanity Engineering."

"Thank… you," Julian opened the pouch and felt the inside. There were a few coins, a health potion, and a basic map.

"Uuh…" His brow furrowed as he examined the map, the unfamiliar symbols and writing only serving to confuse him further.

"I can't read this," Julian sighed.

"Not my problem. Go on," Marcus urged, giving him a gentle push. "You'll be fine. Just keep your head low and don't draw attention to yourself."

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"...Right. Thank you again, Marcus," and as soon as Julian stepped out of the small tent, the bustling life of Archon enveloped his untrained eyes. The streets were alive with colors and sounds, the air filled with laughter and chatter, and the occasional clink of coins exchanged for goods. His senses buzzed as he took it all in—the aroma of street food wafting through the air, and the intricate details of the market stalls.

"I really wish you were here, MEGAN," He felt an overwhelming urge to reach out, to touch the faces of those around him, to familiarize himself with the diversity of this new world.

But of course, he quickly reined in that impulse. Instead, he took a deep breath and allowed himself to wander through the throngs of people, slowly adapting to his newfound sight.

And then, all of a sudden, a sound sliced through the chaos—a familiar, rhythmic clanging of steel against iron whispering into Julian's ears.

"...No way," Julian's heart raced as he followed the sound, his instincts guiding him through the maze of vendors and curious onlookers; his hand, very gently pushing them away so he could feel his path.

He turned a corner and there, before him, stood a weapons shop, the sign hanging above it creaking slightly in the gentle breeze. The entrance was framed with glimmering blades, and he could hear shadows dancing in the back of the shop—the unmistakable sound of blacksmiths hard at work.

The rush of excitement surged through Julian, igniting a spark that had been dormant for far too long. He stepped inside, the hot air of the smithy washing over him like a gentle tide.

"So… many swords," his fingers twitched with anticipation as he approached the nearest display, gazing at the meticulously crafted swords and weapons that glinted in the low light. And of course…

…he had to touch them.

"Hey! Hands off!" a gruff voice barked from behind the counter, waking Julian from his paradise.

"I—" Julian was interrupted by the shop owner, a stocky man with a beard that seemed to twitch with irritation.

"Don't touch anything unless you're buying!" the owner interrupted, crossing his thick arms.

"I can pay for this." Ignoring the scolding, Julian reached out again, his fingers grazing the hilt of a sword. The cool metal sent shivers of exhilaration through him that made him smile.

"Th–"

"And can I use your smithy?" he blurted, barely containing his enthusiasm.

"What?" The shop owner's eyebrows shot up, "You think you can just waltz in here and use my equipment? It doesn't work like that, kid."

And Julian's response was to pull out a handful of coins, their glint catching the owner's eye. Instantly, the man's demeanor shifted.

"Alright, kid. Follow me."

The owner waved him toward the back of the shop, where the forge blazed with a vibrant, inviting fire.

"That's… fire?" As Julian stepped into the smithy, his heart raced. The heat from the forge enveloped him, and he could hear the hammers striking metal, the rhythmic dance of creation echoing in the space. The other blacksmiths paused their work, their eyes narrowing as they looked at Julian with disdain.

Julian was completely oblivious to their stares, however, he just glanced at the various tools hanging from the walls—hammers, tongs, and molds, each one felt like they were whispering to him.

"What the!?"

And without hesitation, he grabbed a hammer and set to work. The other blacksmiths could not help but just look at each other as Julian did not even greet or look at them.

"Why'd the owner let someone this rude in!?"

"I saw him paying the owner."

"Tch."

Julian was not even hearing the other people, his hands were just moving with a purpose that felt both instinctual and exhilarating. He shaped the glowing metal with precision, feeling the rhythm of the forge sync with his heartbeat. The world around him completely faded, and all that mattered was the weapon taking shape before him…

…nothing else matters.

And now that he could actually see each of the little details, each of the sparks… it felt like his connection with the metal grew by several folds. He was missing this his entire life, and now it was here.

He poured every ounce of his emotions into the blade, recalling the weight of the swords he had held, the way they felt in his hands, and the power they wielded. Each strike was a… release—a surge of energy that flowed from his heart into the steel.

And in less than 30 minutes, he had crafted a sword – the blade gleaming with a brilliance that made Julian shiver there and then.

"What!? He's already done!?"

"It's… it's so beautiful," And then, tears started trailing down his cheeks as he relished in his creation – seeing his reflection on it for the very first time. It truly made him feel like he was one with the sword.

For the very first time in his life filled with nothing but darkness, he sees himself. His true self.

"W…pft!"

And as the other blacksmiths saw Julian crying and extremely impressed with his work, they could not help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

"You… you think you actually made something good!?"

"Brat, if you want to pretend, at least put more effort! You really think half an hour is enough to craft a sword!? Pft!"

Julian completely ignored them, however, as he carefully placed the sword on the nearby empty table; almost treating it like a baby with how gentle he was with it.

"Tch… I'm throwing that trash!" The lead blacksmith of the shop rushed to get Julian's sword, but as soon as he grabbed the weapon, any mockery vanished from his face, replaced by complete and utter shock.

"Wait a minute…" he murmured; his hands trembling as he examined the sword closely, "This is…

…this is a [Rare] weapon!"

"W… what!?"

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