In a cemetery of Ryuma village , a group of three people is attacking a fifteen-year-old kid.
Blood drips from his tousled dark violet hair, but his purple eyes are filled with not backing down.
"Oy, kid, we only want a dead body."
"What's the fuzz over it?"
"Step aside, kid, you'll get hurt even more."
His body trembles, his steps falter.
No, I cannot. This is the place most important person of my life buried.
I cannot let you do this to her.
"He doesn't even have magic."
"A trash boy."
"Nah, let's show this trash what magic is."
The three men exchanged looks, and three colorful grimoires appeared beside each of them.
"Water Magic: Water Bullet."
Three water bullets formed in their hands and shot toward the young man.
The kid didn't even have a chance to defend as the spells hit him, throwing him back to the ground.
He landed beside the grave he was protecting.
I came to this beautiful fantasy world.
No, this cursed world. I thought I was special, that I would enjoy this world unlike my previous one.
But fate is a bitch.
I was cursed with paralysis at the age of ten.
My mother, the only good thing that happened to an orphan like me who has no family on Earth.
But now, I was cursed with paralysis.
We were already in poverty, living in slums and forsaken village realms. I was a burden to my mother.
But she didn't care at all.
She loved me as if I were the most precious thing in this world.
That pure love kept me sane in this despair.
She didn't accept my inability to move. I knew she felt bad for me, but what could I do? I could only say, "Don't worry."
She spent years searching for any magic or remedy that could cure me.
And she found it. She found the cure. I should be happy, right?
No. Fate is a bitch again. She made a deal with the devils, the most evil creatures.
Those bastards did cure my paralysis, but they took my magic. It should have been okay—I could have accepted that.
But those bastards, those damn bitches and pussies, took my mother's life.
Damn it.
I am here, not even protecting her final resting place.
No, I must. Damn it.
He stood up before the grave, blood dripping from his mouth, his torn clothes soaked in blood.
"No, I cannot let you take her, you grave robbers!"
His roar was low, but the intensity behind it was fierce.
"Tch, this bastard trash is still moving."
"Let's kill this trash and sell those dead bodies for money in the black market bro Oji"
"Yah."
The three men raised their hands.
"Water Magic: Water Barrel."
Three water streams from their hands combined into a massive water barrel in the air, swirling with intense force.
"Die, you trash!"
The barrel launched at the young man.
So, this is how it ends. I, Marcus, lost.
Lost to a bunch of robbers.
Lost to a devil.
Lost to a group of grave robbers—no, I lost to fate.
He turned his head and looked at the grave.
Something clicked within him.
"Marcus, promise me you will become a great person before you die."
His mother last words.
"NO!!!"
Maybe fate took pity on him, or his will shattered it.
A miracle happened to him, to the one whom luck had forsaken.
The water barrel smashed into something—two large bone hands emerged from the ground.
They are in the positon like presenting an object to Marcus.
The bones and the surrounding aura sending eerie chills.
A grimoire in the middle of the hands. The ominous aura it emitted suppressed the robbers.
"Oi, what the heck is that?"
"I've never seen anything like that, bro Oji."
"Yikes."
Marcus slowly but steadily opened his fist, and the grimoire stationed on the bone leapt into his hands.
It had a cover with a red star shape, unlike the traditional clover shape of a grimoire.
As soon as Marcus touched the grimoire, something happened in his body—he is connected to it.
His wounds are all healed, an unkonwn energy filled his body.
The grimoire floated in midair, its pages flipping on their own.
"Necro Magic: Icy Wind."
Marcus raised his hands, and magic surged—a chilled wind formed.
The wind slowly froze everything. The ground beneath Marcus turned to ice, and the air grew colder.
It was not an ordinary chill; it was the chill of death.
The wind engulfed the robbers, freezing the ground beneath them before they could react.
Their legs froze in ice, and it spread to their upper bodies.
"Oy, oy, oy, what the hell is happening here?"
"Bro Oji, we're freezing! This is all that trash's fault!"
"Yeah, I'm so cold—so very very very cold!"
The three men turned into frozen statues.
"Huh," Marcus gasped.
He glanced at the three frozen figures and then at the book in his hands.
The grimoire had a blood-red star in the center,
with a black background and intricate red designs at the four corners, the star shape is encircled by a gold circle.
The commotion settled, and Marcus collapsed near the grave from exhaustion.
After some time, he awoke from his exhausted sleep, and the robbers had partially melted from the ice. This time, the tables had turned, and the robbers were now afraid of Marcus.
"Scram and leave the valuables."
The robbers ran away.
He was exhausted and couldn't fight any longer in that condition, but at least he got their money purses.
Marcus placed purple flowers—his mother's favorite—on the grave.
The grave didn't even have a tombstone. Marcus raised his hand, and the ice condensed before him as the icy wind slowly formed an ice tombstone on the grave.
The tombstone was beautiful, made of ice, with a name slowly sculpting on it in large letters.
"Mother, I am lonely without you."
"You made me promise that I would become a great person before I die."
"I do not know why?"
"Not only will I become the greatest, but I will also be the strongest. Everyone will know my name."
"I got my magic back, and an unknown grimoire is connected to me."
The name is sculpted on the tomb.
Vivienne Kira.
Marcus bowed to the tomb.
"Please watch over me."