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Merchant God
Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The young teen, an outsider to this strange gathering, felt a sense of awe as he stood before the immense medieval gate. He watched as a sea of teenagers, all dressed identically, flowed towards the castle's entrance. The outfit they wore was unlike anything he had seen before—a uniform of sorts, with a unique emblem embroidered on the chest. As he followed the crowd, he felt a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

What was this place, and why were so many gathered here? Stepping through the gate, the teen found himself in a vast courtyard, surrounded by towering walls and intricate architecture. The castle, it seemed, was a labyrinth of stone corridors and grand halls. The teenagers moved with purpose, they approach the guards with their identity emblem and is immediately allow in through the huge door. The teen noticed that the emblem on the students' uniforms varied slightly, possibly indicating different houses or factions within this mysterious academy.

A retinue of liveried servants, butlers and maids predominantly, trailed some of the adolescents, burdened with their considerable baggage. He felt a sense of intrigue as he imagined the secrets and skills that lay within these ancient walls.

As the young teen followed the crowd, he became aware of a peculiar sensation. He felt as if he were shrinking, his eyes drawn to the tall figures of the other teenagers. It was then that he realized his own attire had transformed. He, too, now wore the unique uniform, the emblem on his chest matching those of the others. It was an extraordinary feeling, as if he had suddenly become a part of this mysterious gathering. The teen's curiosity grew as he noticed the slight variations in the emblems, indicating a complex system of houses or factions within this ancient academy. He wondered which house he belonged to.

His final recollection was the express bus hurtling him homeward from his day's labor. A customary catnap had been his intention, instead a jarring translocation to an alien plane of existence seized him, thrusting him into another's life. A frantic hand plunged into his pockets yielded only a stark, metallic identity tag – a chillingly inadequate marker in this bewildering new reality.

Name - Husayn

Birth - Common

A sudden uproar erupted beyond the gates, the rhythmic clatter of approaching carriages abruptly ceasing. As the adolescents alighted, their forms emerging from the opulent vehicles, a chilling certainty washed over him. The precise location of his unexpected displacement solidified in his mind.

From the carriage descended Cecilia Randall, a vision of striking beauty, long, raven hair framing a face that bespoke both grace and power. The Duke's daughter, she is a heroine of this realm, her very presence commanding attention. Aloof and disdainful, she maintains a frigid distance from her classmates, her gaze condescendingly fixed upon those she deems feeble and timid. Within four years of leaving the academy, her mastery over glacial magic would transform her into a formidable archmage, a devastating force on the battlefield, unleashing deadly ice storms.

From a gleaming chariot of gold emerged Aella Burton, princess of Sladour, a vision of blonde beauty. Her radiant smile and graceful wave instantly captivated the assembled students. Her hair, the color of spun moonlight, cascaded down her back, catching the light in a waterfall of shimmering gold. A gasp rippled through the crowd – a sound like wind whispering through tall grass. Her smile, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips, revealed teeth as flawlessly white as seashells. It wasn't just a smile. It was a sunrise, chasing away the shadows. With a gesture, fluid and elegant as a dancer's, she raised a hand. The heavy rings on her fingers, each a miniature work of art, winked in the sunlight.

A student, emboldened by her captivating presence, blurted out, "Your Highness… it’s… it's truly an honor.”

Aella's response was a soft, melodic chuckle that seemed to carry on the warm breeze. "The honor, I assure you, is all mine."

Her eyes, the clear blue of a summer sky, held a hint of amusement, then shifted to a thoughtful gaze, sweeping across the expectant faces before her. Another heroine of this realm, she is a future formidable warrior, absorbing blows with unwavering resilience while unleashing devastating melee attacks. Her incandescent blade, a beacon of pure power, effortlessly cleaves through almost any defense.

Finally, a striking young man with fiery red hair emerged from the carriage. Disregarding the crowd, he advanced directly to Cecilia, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. This was Artemis Greyhound, the singular heir to the dukedom, the only son, destined to inherit his father's vast power upon completing his studies. A formidable opponent, he stands as an insurmountable barrier to any romantic pursuit of either Cecilia or Aella. This adolescent pyromancer, a prodigy of apocalyptic potential, wields the power to obliterate entire battlefields with devastating firestorms. His insufferable arrogance and burning pride fuel an unyielding hatred of defeat.

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Unfazed, Aella permitted Artemis's approach. Following their passage past Husayn, a wave of stunned silence rippled through the previously bustling student body, instantly erupting into a cacophony of excitement. Overwhelmed with elation, several students wept openly, overcome by the sheer joy of a fleeting glance from the trio.

Suddenly, a pivotal memory surfaced in Husayn's mind. The name of the role-playing game he'd immersed himself in before his inexplicable arrival in this strange reality. "Heroes of Sladour" – a title that resonated with chilling familiarity. The game demanded strategic investment in character development, demanding players diligently cultivate both attributes and vital alliances within the academy's rigorous environment. Each unfolding chapter brought with it a brutal assault on the academy, its catastrophic aftermath inextricably linked to the player's critical choices and decisive actions.

Hailed as a hero, the player receives unwavering support from his newly forged ally in their quest to vanquish the demonic sovereign. United, they embark on a relentless campaign, systematically dismantling the nearby labyrinthine fortresses, one formidable dungeon at a time. Triumphantly vanquishing the demonic sovereign concluded the player's arduous journey. The subsequent epilogue, however, branched into profoundly divergent paths, shaped entirely by his preceding choices. He might claim the hands of both enchanting schoolmates in a union of unprecedented bliss or perhaps settle for a single cherished companion. Alternatively, a return to his ancestral village offered a chance at a simpler, yet equally poignant destiny – reuniting with his childhood sweetheart, provided fate had spared her life.

The full, agonizing reality of the varied uniforms finally dawned on Husayn. His namelessness, his lack of a patrimonial lineage, branded him a commoner in this stratified society. Yet, his identification proved authentic, a passport to passage, allowing him unimpeded entry. Trailing the students, Husayn entered a breathtaking, cavernous dome. Rows of unoccupied seats stretched before him, a silent invitation to choose. Opting for a strategic position near the exit, he settled into a seat, prepared for a swift departure.

During the wait, a young woman settled beside him. Introducing herself as Elara, she radiated an almost palpable joy. Her acceptance into the world's preeminent academy, she confided, felt like a stroke of unparalleled luck. A gifted practitioner of magic arts, she expressed unwavering confidence in her upcoming assessment, anticipating a triumphant outcome. His chat with Elara left Husayn with a stark realization. He possessed no aptitude, neither for the physical nor the magic arts. The grim prospect of expulsion from the academy now loomed large. A hushed utterance, a clandestine attempt at communication, escaped Husayn's lips.

A diaphanous azure pane materialized before him, a shimmering display of his vital essence. His identity, years lived, inherent capabilities, unallocated potential, and learned skills were laid bare within its ethereal glow.

Strength - 7

Dexterity - 5

Intelligence - 6

Endurance - 4

Talents - Central Market and Inventory

Central Market - Allows user to purchase anything with the use of gold coins within the market. The gold used will be replenish back to the land.

Inventory - Allow users to store non-living items in another dimension. The time won’t flow within the dimension.

Silence descended as the last student found their place. From the wings emerged Dean Corvus Grant, a figure of arresting presence who commanded the center of the auditorium. His arrival stilled the restless energy of the assembled youth. Handsome, yes, but beneath that youthful facade lurked a soul of immense age—four centuries etched into his very being. He was one of the eight remaining archmages, a testament to an enduring power in a world increasingly devoid of magic.

Commencing the address, Corvus lauded the assembled students for their triumph in the preliminary trials. A grave shadow then fell upon his words; he painted a stark picture of imminent global peril, imploring this generation to forge the champions needed to vanquish the looming threats. While the pronouncement largely washed over his classmates, Husayn felt a chilling certainty. the demonic sovereign's resurgence loomed, a mere three years hence, casting the specter of relentless warfare across their third and fourth years of study.

Corvus extended a prestigious invitation to Cecilia, appointing her as the freshman class representative. Overwhelmed by this distinguished honor, Cecilia expressed her profound gratitude to the academy and offered a warm welcome to the newly admitted students. With graceful assurance, she then announced the upcoming assignment, the crucial task of classroom allocation. Reassuringly, she emphasized the familiar nature of the process, explaining that the students would undergo a reiteration of their initial aptitude assessments—physical or magical, depending on their inherent capabilities.

A cold sweat slicked Husayn's skin, this was his deepest, darkest fear realized. The utter void where his past should have been – a terrifying blankness encompassing all actions taken by this vessel before this day – paralyzed him. He agonized over the crucial decision. Should he bravely confront the physical trials or risk the unpredictable, magic mysteries of the magical assessment?

Faced with the daunting physical assessment, Husayn had no alternative. His lack of magical prowess left him with a single, desperate strategy. He would attempt to demonstrate unwavering commitment, striving for excellence by relentlessly attacking the training dummy with his blade. Success hinged on the academy recognizing his ferocious effort.

Seconds ticked by, then remorse gnawed at him. He'd foolishly dismissed the physical challenge; the colossal rock hurtling past was stark testament to his error. The projectile's source. A seemingly diminutive girl, radiating self-satisfaction with a triumphant smirk. The students around her erupted in thunderous applause, a testament to her astounding strength.

The examiner permits each student to uniquely demonstrate their exceptional physical aptitudes. Following each student presentation, Husayn's anxiety intensified; he yearned for his opportunity to decisively conclude this agonizing ordeal. Examining Husayn's student identification and the photograph therein, a crease of doubt furrowed his brow. He then posed the query with weighty implication.

"Do you genuinely intend to participate in the physical assessment?"

With a tremor in his hands, Husayn selected a weighty metal chisel from the rack. He approached his chosen crag, a monumental block of granite, his resolve hardening. He struck it with a ferocious blow, the full force of his body behind the swing. Yet, the unyielding stone proved too powerful. The chisel, jarring violently against the rock's implacable surface, ripped free from his grasp, hurtling dangerously close to the patiently waiting students.

Ignoring Husayn's near miss, the examiner barked, "Next!" A chorus of indignant whispers from fellow students followed, rebuking him for his reckless proximity. Husayn understood their disdain. A paltry strength score of seven was utterly unimpressive, a far cry from the awe-inspiring power he yearned to command. Gazing heavenward, Husayn yearned for continued enrollment in the academy, clinging to the fervent wish that his life wouldn't conclude anonymously.

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