The food is not as bland as I expected. The soup is made with some kind of meat and vegetables. I don't recognize the meat, but the potatoes are unmistakable. Interesting. This feels like medieval Europe, yet it has potatoes. I wonder what the lore behind that is?

I quickly finish the last bits of soup with the crude wooden spoon they gave me. Surprisingly, it's more comfortable than a metal one since it doesn't conduct heat as much.

The bedroom is small, likely intended for an apprentice priest rather than a great hero from another world. It has a bed, a small window, a desk, and a chair, where I'm currently sitting.

With nothing better to do, I open the desk drawer and find a small book inside. It's worn, with a black cover and rough edges. A religious book, perhaps?

I open it, expecting fantastical myths of the world's creation or some religious babble, only to be predictably disappointed. It's all gibberish; none of these words resemble any language I know. Which reminds me...

I can understand these people perfectly well, but neither of us is speaking English or Lithuanian. It's hard to explain—it's like having a real-time translator in my brain. I just understand what I hear and instinctively know what words to say. Weird. I need to test this further.

A knock on the door startles me. "Come in!" I stand up to greet the small figure entering the room. Another one of these priests. Time to ask some questions.

The priest removes their hood, revealing a beautiful woman about my age. She's petite, the top of her head reaching the middle of my chest, with a freckled nose and green eyes. Her brunette hair is tied in a neat bun at her nape. She looks at me demurely.

"I'm Laura. I was assigned to be your guide." Her eyes dart around the room—clearly a newbie, anxious and shy.

"I'm Steponas," I say, extending my hand. She recoils slightly, giving me a puzzled look. Great job, Steponas. Your first interaction in this world, and you've already messed it up.

"It's a handshake, a common way to greet someone in my world," I explain. She coughs, gathering herself before replying. "I understand; it's not unique to your world, it's just..." She pauses. "...boorish."

Of course. I never really understood or learned proper etiquette in my own world either. This is going to be a pain. "Please, forgive my rudeness," I say, trying to sound as refined as possible.

She giggles, covering her mouth. "It's fine. It's just... ever since I was little, I wondered what kind of person the great hero would be. We've been trying to summon you for decades with no success, but now... Now you're here, and you're just a regular person. Though, a bit on the bigger side," she adds with a smile.

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Expectations. How tired I am of them. I guess this world is more similar to mine than I thought. At least she understands—though I doubt others will.

"Sorry to disappoint," I jest. "I never expected to bear such responsibility. Back home, I was just a regular person, and little was expected of me. Honestly, I preferred it that way." Her smile fades slightly. "I understand," she says.

"You mentioned being a guide—would you mind answering a few questions?" She gathers herself once more before replying, "Of course, ask away."

I sit back in the chair and gesture toward the bed, urging her to sit. "So, where are we right now?"

"We are in the Hero's Cathedral, which will likely be renamed Steponas' Cathedral. It’s located in Laumbark, the capital city of the Kingdom of Aintvar." She sits on the bed, resting her hands on her lap.

I guess I'm a bigger deal than I thought. A whole cathedral named after me, huh? I’ll need some time to memorize these names. Better not bombard her with questions all at once.

"And what date is it? Autumn?" I ask.

"Correct. It’s September 20th, Year 1."

Time to confirm my suspicions. "And what’s the seventh month of the year?"

"It's July. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, forget about it." There it is. I doubt Julius Caesar exists in this world. While September might also have Roman origins, I know for sure July does. Better not delve into the semantics of this world and focus on something else. There’s one more thing that’s caught my interest.

"Year 1?" I ask.

"Yes, Year 1 of the Hero's Era," she replies enthusiastically.

"Wow..." I mutter, stunned. I can’t believe it… I’m essentially their version of Jesus Christ. This kind of honor surely brings immense expectations. I’m not sure I want to—or even can—be the hero they hope for. Anything less than perfection from me will likely lead to disappointment.

"So, what's next for me?" I ask.

"Up next is the Blue Flame Ceremony. You’ll be left alone in a chamber to commune with the Goddess. There, you will be granted a gift that will surely save this world!" She gestures with her hands, radiating enthusiasm.

More expectations. But somehow, my heart feels a little lighter. At least I’m not expected to save the world as I am now. I have no powers—I’m just an out-of-shape software engineer. Maybe, with this gift she speaks of, I can become something more.

"This gift you speak of—do you know what it is?" I ask.

She ponders for a moment. "Well... the scriptures don’t specify what the gift is, but scholars believe it’s the gift to wield magic." She pauses, then looks at me again. "But they’re unsure."

Of course there’s magic. People don’t just appear from another world without it. The ones who summoned me—these priests—are mages.

"Are you a mage? How does it work?" I ask.

"I am..." She glances away. "But..."

A knock on the door startles us both.