Chapter 9: "The World They Now Stand Upon"

  The World They Now Stand UponThe second day began with a crisp stillness in the air.Sunlight poured gently through the towering stained-gss windows of the Grand Church cssroom, casting kaleidoscopic patterns over the polished marble floor. Rows of students sat quietly, murmuring among themselves, still adjusting to the rhythm of this new world. Some were wide-eyed with wonder, others weary with uncertainty.The ornate door creaked open with dignified ease.Priest Ira entered, his white robes trimmed with golden thread swaying softly as he stepped forward. In one hand, he held a long staff crowned with a symbol resembling twin wings enfolding a fme—an emblem of the Church of Radiance. The moment he crossed the threshold, a calm descended over the css.He walked slowly to the front, setting the staff aside and turning to face the students with the poise of a seasoned instructor. The golden quill on the bckboard behind him stirred to life, hovering in the air with a faint hum of magic.“Good morning, children,” he began, his voice firm yet kind. “I trust you rested well.”A few sleepy nods followed. Some students straightened in their seats, sensing that today’s lesson would be different.“Before we proceed with magic theory or combat fundamentals,” Ira continued, “it is vital that you understand the world you now stand upon. Knowledge is not only power—it is survival.”He allowed that to hang in the air for a moment.“Veltherion is unlike Earth. Its history, its people, even the flow of time and energy… all of it will shape your future. If you wish to enter the Holy Magic Academy—and succeed—you must understand the foundation of this realm. It will help you more than you can yet imagine.”The quill behind him began writing on its own, elegant script curling across the bckboard as he spoke.“This is not merely a geography lesson. This is the beginning of your real education.”And with that, he turned toward the board.“The name of this world… is Veltherion.”

  The name of the world was Veltherion—an ancient realm etched high in the celestial records of the heavens themselves. Older than most divine pnes, Veltherion was a world of vast continents, shifting ley-lines, and civilisations whose roots reached deeper than time. It was said that even gods from other realms kept a wary eye on Veltherion, for the rise and fall of its nations could shake the very order of the multiverse.

  The heroes learned of this during the second day of csses within the hallowed chambers of the Grand Church. While sunlight filtered through stained gss and holy chants echoed faintly through marble corridors, a golden quill scribbled on the bckboard behind the priest as he began to expin.

  “Veltherion is not merely a world. It is a cornerstone,” the priest had said, his silver hair glinting beneath the sunbeams. “And its heart lies within the continent of Alswin.”

  Alswin, the central continent and cradle of civilisation, was a marvel in itself. Shaped like a leaf with jagged veins of rivers and mountains, Alswin was home to five major powers, all encircling a sacred nd in the center like petals around a flower.

  At the very center of Alswin stood the Holy Land of Aerenthal, a sanctified territory governed by the High Church, neutral in all wars, and acting as the anchor of divine order. It was here that the heroes were summoned, and it was from here that their knowledge of the world would begin.

  Surrounding Aerenthal were four mighty empires—each one with its ancient traditions, elemental strengths, and ambitions. Between them y the Grand Divine Mountains, an unbroken range that acted as both protector and barrier. Trade, diplomacy, and war all had to pass through Aerenthal, making it a nd both sacred and strategic.

  Outside these core empires were lesser kingdoms scattered like stars—some peaceful, others rogue. One such kingdom, referred to in ancient scrolls only as the Kingdom of Aelvarin, sat far to the north, hugging the edge of Veltherion’s known boundaries. What made Kingdom X so enigmatic was not just its remote location, but its connection to another nd—a nd so feared that its name alone silenced taverns.

  To the north of Alswin, like a scar upon the world, stretched a second, darker ndmass connected to the main continent by a cursed isthmus of stone and mist. Here y the infamous Bck Demon Forest—a primordial region swallowed in eternal twilight. The trees there were said to whisper forgotten names, the ground poisoned by mana storms, and skies constantly veiled by bck clouds and crackling, violet lightning.

  Long ago—seven hundred years in the past—the Bck Demon Forest had been the seat of a powerful empire ruled by the Demon Lord Ashborn demon king of insanity. After his fall, the empire colpsed, and the entire region became a forbidden zone. Monsters unlike any seen elsewhere in the world prowled the ruins, and twisting magical phenomena distorted the very ws of nature within.

  Even now, no empire dared send its armies into the ruins, and no adventurer returned sane from its edge. Only the Kingdom of Aelvarin, isoted and strange, maintained contact with the shadowed forest, its people rumored to be descendants of something not entirely human.

  “The Holy Land keeps vigil on the Demon Forest even now,” the priest had said quietly, fingers steepled. “For though the Demon Lord has long since vanished, the power that once crowned him king… still breathes in the dark.”

  The students, many of whom had once seen the world as a game or fantasy, fell silent. Shouta Izumi could feel it in the air—an unshakable weight. Veltherion was no pyground.

  It was real. It was dangerous. And it had never once stopped watching them.

  The Powers That Shape the World

  The cssroom had grown quiet. A hush filled the air as if even the stone walls were listening.

  The priest stepped back from the map drawn with magic upon the bckboard—lines glowing faint gold, shifting to illustrate terrain, borders, and fgs. His voice echoed with practiced calm, the cadence of one who had taught countless generations of summoned heroes.

  “To understand Veltherion… you must understand its five pilrs of power. These nations are not mere countries. They are ancient forces—each born of a distinct ideal, a different strength, and a unique destiny.”

  The Holy Kingdom of AerenthalAt the heart of Alswin lies Aerenthal, the Holy Kingdom and spiritual center of the known world. A realm governed not by bloodlines, but by faith.

  Ruled by the Pontifex-Queen and the High Council of Cardinals, Aerenthal’s authority transcends borders. The kingdom’s holy magic is revered across all nations, and their padins—knights cd in enchanted white silver—are seen as living miracles.

  Here, the Grand Church of radiances' stands like a beacon of divinity, and it is within its sacred walls that the heroes now dwell. Aerenthal does not conquer through sword or gold, but through belief. It is the guiding star of the continent, and yet... the chains of prophecy and burden run deep within its foundations.

  The Arcane Federation of ArevalTo the west, nestled in a nd of floating towers, crystalline spires, and cities powered by pure mana, lies the Federation of Areval—a collective of powerful mage cns and arcane academies.

  Areval is ruled not by a monarch, but by a rotating Council of Grand Arcanists, the most powerful magic users in the realm. It is a pce where knowledge is power, and the pursuit of truth comes before all else. Magic saturates the nd itself—ley-lines pulse beneath the cities, and even the air hums with tent mana.

  But Areval is not without shadows. Forbidden research, weaponized spells, and ancient pacts are whispered behind its marble walls. To many, it is the most dangerous power, precisely because it seeks to understand everything—even the unspeakable.

  The Free Beasthin Tribes of VashkarSouth of the Holy Land sprawls the vast wildnds of Vashkar, a nd of dense jungles, golden pins, and rolling thunderclouds. It is home to the Beasthin—beastkin tribes who value strength, honor, and freedom above all.

  There is no single ruler in Vashkar. Instead, war-chiefs, shamans, and pride leaders govern their cns, occasionally uniting under a single Warchief during times of war or prophecy.

  Vashkar is ancient in its own right, said to be the first nd where the earth spoke and spirits danced freely. The beastkin are said to possess a raw connection to primal forces—spiritual strength, ancestral memory, and divine bloodlines.

  To challenge them on their nd is to invite nature itself to rise in defiance.

  The Forgotten NorthndBeyond the snow-capped Kvaldir Mountains, in the upper reaches of Alswin, lies a realm spoken of only in low voices: the Forgotten Northnd.

  No empire ys cim to it. No map dares to chart its true boundaries.

  It is a nd of ancient ruins, frozen tundras, and strange lights that dance in the sky. Stories tell of immortal warriors buried beneath the ice, of giants, lost gods, and machines older than the world itself.

  The Church calls it cursed. The Federation calls it a myth. But every few decades, something walks south from the snow—and the world remembers.

  The Bck Demon ForestAnd finally… to the far north, across the narrow nd-bridge of Varn, lies the Bck Demon Forest.

  It is not a nation. It is not a kingdom. It is a scar—alive and breathing.

  Once the seat of the Demon Lord of insanity, the forest is now a cursed realm where reality falters. Bck clouds swirl above its canopy. Lightning howls without pause. Time flows strangely, and magic warps unpredictably.

  Only the mysterious Kingdom of Aelvarin, nestled near its southern edge, maintains a connection with the forest. Whether by bloodline, pact, or madness… none can say.

  None who enter the Bck Demon Forest return unchanged. And yet, whispers cim something still dwells within the ruins—something ancient and watching.

  “These five forces,” the priest concluded, “will shape your destiny. Some will test you. Others may try to control you. But all of them… are waiting.”

  The sun filtered in softly through the tall arched windows, bathing the cssroom in golden light. Ira Cudius stood at the front, his long silver hair glinting faintly under the illumination. With a calm yet commanding presence, he lifted a thin wooden pointer and turned toward the grand chalkboard behind him. His tone was steady, as if each word he spoke had been rehearsed through generations.

  "Now that you understand the world you stand upon—Veltherion," he began, "you must understand its people, for your journey ahead will not be walked alone."

  He tapped once on a hand-drawn map affixed to the board. "Humans," he said, “are the most widespread. They form the backbone of four major powers: the Holy Kingdom of Aerenthal at the continent’s center, the Arcane Federation of Areval in the west, the Free Beastkin Tribes of Vashkar in the south, and the distant Forgotten Northnds, veiled in storms and silence."

  He gestured across the southern regions. “There are also humans who dwell in the southern continent, a warmer nd across the Azure Sea. Their customs are foreign, yet they are still our kin.”

  Then, his pointer moved toward the east. “To the far east live the Elves and Spirits—together in peaceful harmony. Elves are caretakers of nature and revered users of Spirit Magic. Their lives span centuries, and they hold wisdom beyond the reach of mortal years. The Spirits… are not easily understood, but their presence is felt throughout the living forests.”

  He turned slightly, pausing to let the weight of his next words sink in.

  “Beastkin, fierce and proud, roam the southern wildernesses. Their strength is unnatural—some can tear through steel with their bare hands. Warriors, hunters, and survivors... they are the embodiment of instinct and tradition. Like elves, they too enjoy long lifespans, though not as enduring.”

  He slowly lowered the pointer.

  “And then…” he said with a subtle change in tone, “there are the Dragons. Legends to some, monsters to others. They are ancient, elusive, and supremely powerful. Hidden deep within the folds of this world, no one knows where they slumber—or if they watch us even now.”

  A hushed silence fell in the cssroom. But the final word was yet to be spoken.

  “And across the eastern continent, shrouded in mystery, reside the Demons. What you know of them is likely from the tale of the Demon Lord. But I warn you, do not mistake the entire race for their king’s wrath. Like all others, they live, fight, and die for reasons their own.”

  Then he tapped a new chart on the board, shifting the topic with a schor's grace. “Let’s speak of hierarchy.”

  He wrote in firm, clean strokes:

  Royalty → Dukes → Lords → Knights → Commoners

  "This is the standard order in most human kingdoms. The nobles rule, the knights serve, and the commoners toil. Elves and beastkin have their systems—but hierarchy always exists, even if shaped by different ideals."

  "And across the nd," he added, “are guilds. These institutions hold power independent of kingdoms. The Adventurer’s Guild, the Merchant’s Guild, the Magus Consortium, the Assassin’s Net—each provides a way for those born without titles to rise through strength or cunning."

  He cpped his hands lightly together.

  "Your physical training will begin next week. Until then, you must learn to understand this world not as visitors, but as those who may shape its future."

  He bowed lightly and closed the ledger in front of him.

  "Css dismissed."

  “…Can a human live for more than 150 years?” Kasumi’s voice was soft, just barely loud enough to reach the girl sitting beside her.

  Haruka turned toward her, lips curved into a small thoughtful smile. “There were humans on Earth, too, you know. Some people have lived past 120, and with medical advancements, it’s not that strange to imagine people living longer.”

  Kasumi leaned back in her chair, resting her chin on her hand. “Yeah, but living till 150? Wouldn’t that make them like… super old grandpas and grandmas? Like living corpses or something?” She wrinkled her nose dramatically.

  Behind them, a boy flinched as he stifled a cough. “Maybe they’ve got superpowers. You know… like in anime or manga—where old people still look twenty?” Shouta’s words escaped his mouth before he realized he was speaking out loud.

  Kasumi spun halfway in her seat, eyebrows raised, an amused glint in her eyes. “You might be onto something there. Maybe we’ll see beautiful elves with silky silver hair and beastkin girls with twitchy ears and fluffy tails—just like in manga.”

  Shouta ughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Haha… y-yeah. That would be… something.”

  Haruka gnced at them from the side, her expression unreadable. She watched Shouta’s awkward smile, how his gaze lingered a little longer on Kasumi’s enthusiastic grin. A brief thought floated into her mind—Could it be that Shouta… likes Kasumi?

  She blinked and looked away. No, that’s silly. It’s too early to be thinking about things like that…

  “Haruka?” Kasumi’s voice brought her back.

  She turned her head to meet Kasumi’s curious eyes. “Huh? Ah, it’s nothing. Just thinking…”

  Kasumi tilted her head. “Thinking about what?”

  “To be honest… demons,” Haruka said, shifting the conversation. “They mentioned demons live on the eastern continent. That probably means we’ll be facing terrifying monsters someday.”

  Kasumi nodded, her pyful demeanor slightly fading. “Yeah. The kind of monsters that kill people. Not like in games where you just respawn.”

  “W-well!” Shouta raised his hand half-heartedly, trying to sound brave. “We’ve got powers now, right? Blessings from the goddess. Maybe… maybe we’re supposed to use them to protect the people who can’t protect themselves…”

  There was a moment of silence.

  Shouta’s face turned red as he realized the words he’d said were way too embarrassing to say out loud in a cssroom full of teenagers.

  A loud snort came from the back. “Whoa, what was that? Some superhero speech?” Makabe Jin ughed, smacking his desk. “You? An E-Rank Hero with low lightning affinity? Man, you’ll get fried by your sparks before a demon even sees you.”

  “Hah, agreed.” Ririka Kanzaki added with a mocking smile. “If a low-level demon shows up, you’ll probably be the first to die.”

  Shouta’s shoulders tensed, and his head lowered.

  “That’s enough.” A gentle but firm voice cut through the snickering.

  Miss Aiko, sitting at the side of the css, had finally spoken up. Her eyes were calm but serious as she looked around. “There’s no need to mock someone else’s gift. Every one of you has a role to py. That’s what the Pope himself said.”

  The room fell into silence again.

  The priest-teacher Ira Cudius cleared his throat from the front. “Indeed. Even an affinity, no matter how small, is a blessing. If one trains diligently, masters the sword, and learns hand-to-hand combat, they can stand on equal footing with those blessed with overwhelming power. Strength is not the only deciding factor in battle.”

  His voice echoed in the chamber, firm and resolute.

  “There are strategies, terrain, timing, teamwork, and above all… will. In the coming weeks, you’ll learn more than just magic. Your physical training begins next week. Be prepared.”

  The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was filled with thought, tension, and just a tinge of anticipation.

  The silence didn’t st long.

  Ira Cudius gave a final nod, his expression softening as he looked around at the students. “That will be all for today. Now then—head to the Grand Hall. Lunch has been prepared. Eat well and rest. The days ahead will not be easy.”

  The moment those words left his mouth, chairs scraped softly against the floor as the students stood, stretching and gathering in small groups.

  “Thank you, Teacher,” several voices chimed in as they began to filter out of the room.

  “Man, I’m starving…” someone muttered.

  “I hope they have real meat this time.”

  “Can’t believe we’re gonna learn sword fighting next week!”

  The room filled with low chatter, ughs, and casual remarks. Shouta stood a little slower, eyes flickering toward the floor—but when Kasumi turned to him with a friendly smile and said, “Let’s go, Shouta,” he smiled back, just a little.

  Haruka followed behind them in silence, her eyes trailing to the sunlight streaming through the high stained-gss windows. The atmosphere had shifted—lighter now, but not without weight. Something lingered beneath their ughter and chatter.

  Hope. Fear. Curiosity. Maybe even something like destiny.

  They didn’t know it yet, but lunch would be the calm before the storm of training, trials, and tangled bonds.

  As the st students left the chamber, the heavy wooden doors creaked closed behind them.

  And thus, their FOURTH morning in another world came to an end.