Keiran Graywood saw himself as an ordinary guy. He wasn't the type to stand out in a crowd, nor did he think he was special in any way. But at just 19 years old, he was already one of the most popular RPG gamers in the country.
He lived alone, earning a comfortable income by streaming his gameplay to thousands of viewers. His setup was the envy of many—a top-tier PC, a high-resolution monitor, and a chair that felt like sitting on a cloud.
Life was good. But deep down, Keiran often dreamed of something more. He wanted to experience the worlds he played in, to be the hero he controlled on the screen. To live a life of adventure, danger, and glory.
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Keiran realized he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. His fridge was empty, as usual.
Cooking wasn't his thing—he barely had time for it between streaming sessions and grinding in his favorite RPGs. So, he threw on his red tracksuit, grabbed his wallet, and headed out to the convenience store down the street.
Keiran was tall and lean, standing at 6 feet with a skinny frame that made him look older than he was.
His black hair was messy, and his dark eyes always seemed to carry a bored expression, no matter what he was feeling.
Known to his fans as the Nonchalant Hero, he remained unfazed no matter the chaos unfolding on-screen—his expression unreadable, his voice effortlessly monotone.
It was this calm indifference that set him apart, drawing viewers in with a mix of admiration and amusement.
Whether facing impossible odds or achieving stunning victories, he never wavered, his detached demeanor making even the most intense moments feel strangely surreal.
He walked into the store. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as he made his way to the instant noodle aisle. He picked up a cup of noodles, paid the cashier, and stepped back outside.
But as he pushed open the glass door, something strange happened. The world around him shifted. The convenience store, the streetlights, the cars—everything vanished in an instant.
Keiran blinked, and suddenly, he was no longer holding the door handle. Instead, he stood in an open space bathed in a soft, golden light.
The ground beneath his feet was smooth and glowing, like polished marble. In front of him, a grand throne sat atop a set of wide, stone steps. The throne was ornate, carved with intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer in the light.
Keiran looked around, his expression calm despite the surreal situation. His eyes, always half-lidded and unreadable, scanned the area.
He wasn't panicking—he was more curious than anything. Before he could process what was happening, a deep, resonant voice echoed through the space.
"Welcome, Keiran Graywood."
Keiran turned his gaze upward to the throne. Sitting there was an old man dressed in a flowing white robe. His long white hair and beard gave him a wise, almost mythical appearance. The man's eyes were kind but carried an air of authority. He introduced himself with a gentle smile.
"I am Bequeathal, the God of Power and the ruler of the world of Eteria."
Keiran nodded slowly. "Okay," he said simply, his voice calm and even.
Bequeathal raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Keiran's lack of reaction. He cleared his throat and continued.
"You are here because I have summoned you for a great task. The world of Eteria is in grave danger. A demon king is rising to power, the Dark Dragon stirs from its slumber, and the Malevolent Witch has been reincarnated. These threats could bring about the end of everything."
Keiran tilted his head slightly. "Why me?" he asked, his tone casual, as if they were discussing the weather.
Bequeathal leaned forward, his expression serious. "I chose you because your soul is strong enough to withstand the journey to another world. You have the potential to wield the power I will grant you. I will give you four blessings—abilities that will allow you to grow stronger faster than anyone else. You will be able to absorb, upgrade, create, and transfer skills. In essence, you will become a living weapon, capable of saving Eteria from destruction."
For the first time, a flicker of interest crossed Keiran's face. His bored eyes seemed to sharpen slightly as he processed the god's words.
Bequeathal took this as a sign to continue. He stood from his throne, his white robes flowing around him like a cascade of light, and began his speech.
"Keiran Graywood, the world of Eteria is a land of beauty and wonder, but it is also a land on the brink of ruin. For centuries, the balance of power has held firm, but now, darkness stirs. The Demon King, once sealed away, gathers his strength in the shadows. The Dark Dragon, a beast of unimaginable destruction, awakens from its ancient slumber. And the Malevolent Witch, whose very name strikes fear into the hearts of mortals, has returned from the void. These forces threaten to tear Eteria apart, to plunge it into an age of endless night."
Bequeathal's voice grew louder, echoing through the vast, glowing space. "But you, Keiran, have been chosen to stand against this tide of darkness. You will be the beacon of hope, the shield that protects the innocent, and the sword that strikes down evil. With the powers I grant you, you will rise above all others. You will become a legend, a hero whose name will be sung for generations to come."
He paused, his piercing gaze locking onto Keiran's. "This will not be an easy path. You will face trials that will test your strength, your courage, and your resolve. But know this: you do not walk alone. The people of Eteria will look to you for guidance, and I will watch over you as you fulfill your destiny. The fate of an entire world rests in your hands. Will you take on this mantle and become the hero Eteria needs?"
Keiran listened quietly, his hands still in his pockets. When Bequeathal finished, there was a moment of silence. Then Keiran shrugged. "Okay."
Bequeathal blinked, taken aback by the simplicity of Keiran's response. "You agree just like that? No questions, no doubts?"
Keiran shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his tracksuit. "Going to another world to be a powerful hero is something I've always dreamed of. Now it's coming true. Why wouldn't I say yes?"
Bequeathal stared at him for a moment, then chuckled softly. "You are an interesting one, Keiran Graywood." With a wave of his hand, a swirling portal appeared beside the throne. The portal shimmered with hues of blue and gold, its edges crackling with energy. "This will take you to Eteria. Remember, the fate of the world rests in your hands. Grow stronger, face the challenges ahead, and stop the destruction that looms on the horizon."
Keiran stepped toward the portal without hesitation. As he reached the edge, he glanced back at Bequeathal.
"I'll save the world," he said simply, his voice steady. Then he stepped through.
The world around him shifted again. The golden light faded, replaced by the cool, dim glow of a forest. Keiran found himself standing on a dirt path surrounded by towering trees. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of pine and earth. The forest was eerily quiet, as if holding its breath.
The first thing Keiran noticed was a floating, almost transparent screen in front of him. It looked like a status board from one of his RPG games.
•••••
NAME: Keiran Graywood
CLASS: Skillmancer
LEVEL: 1
HP: 10
MP: 10
SP: 10
[STATS]
CONSTITUTION: 1
INTELLIGENCE: 1
STRENGTH: 1
DEXTERITY: 1
AGILITY: 1
AVAILABLE STAT POINTS: 12
[SKILLS]
DIVINE BLESSINGS: Divine Inheritance, Sacred Elevation, Arcane Creation, Blessing of Bequeathal.
COMMON: Iron Fist, Quick Step, Enduring Spirit.
•••••
Keiran reached out, his fingers brushing against the screen. It felt solid yet weightless, like touching glass.
He scanned the information, his eyes lingering on the four blessings Bequeathal had mentioned.
A small smile tugged at the corner of Keiran's lips. "This is going to be fun," he murmured to himself.