Chapter 262: News of the Hero

Nathan woke to sunlight streaming through the inn’s thin curtains.

He lay still for a moment, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. The wooden beams were rough-hewn, the plaster cracked, the whole room smelling faintly of old hay and candle wax. It wasn’t the cramped studio apartment he’d shared with Lucy, nor was it the Celestial Peak guild hall. It was just another reminder that he was far from home.

He pushed himself up and reached for Moonlight. The bow was leaning against the wall, exactly where he’d left it. Its familiar weight was a small comfort.

’Good morning, Master,’ Mirko’s voice came through the link, warm and steady. ’You slept well.’

"Did I?"

’You did not thrash or mutter. That is progress.’

Nathan almost smiled. "I’ll take it."

He dressed quickly—simple clothes today, nothing that would draw attention—and headed downstairs. The innkeeper, a plump woman with flour on her apron, handed him a roll of bread and a cup of watered wine.

"Going to the guild again?" she asked.

"Just a walk," Nathan said.

She nodded and returned to her work.

---

The streets of Marriet were busy with morning traffic. Merchants hauled their goods to market. Children ran between the legs of adults, laughing and shouting. A blacksmith hammered at his anvil, the ring of steel against steel echoing off the stone walls.

Nathan walked without a destination, letting the city’s rhythm wash over him. He needed to think. He needed a plan.

He had been in this world for nearly two weeks now. In that time, he had:

· Registered as an F-Rank adventurer

· Secured a temp instructor position at the academy

· Trained Mira, Dax, and Ren

· Cleared his first dungeon with the teens

· Researched dimensional travel in the academy library

· Learned about "ethereal threads" and "world gates"

The research had been promising but incomplete. The books mentioned that the Demon King possessed knowledge of the threads, but seeking him out was probably suicide, he could not guage the threat level of this world yet. The other options—saints, oracles, ancient artifacts—were either too distant, too rare, or too vague to be actionable.

He needed something concrete. Something he could chase.

As he passed a group of merchants unloading crates, he caught fragments of their conversation.

"...demon king’s army... breached the eastern..."

"...they say the royal family has..."

"...a summon... a hero..."

Nathan stopped walking.

Hero. Summon.

The words hit him like a physical blow. He turned toward the merchants, his heart pounding.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice sharper than he intended. "What did you just say?"

The merchants looked at him, a middle-aged man with a scarred face, a younger woman with ink-stained fingers, an old man leaning on a cane. They exchanged glances.

"You mean about the hero?" the scarred man asked.

"Yes. What hero?"

The old man leaned forward, his eyes bright with the eagerness of someone who loved to share news. "It’s all over the kingdom. The royal family of Albion, King Aldric himself tasked Ten archmages to perform a summoning ritual three days ago. They called forth a hero from another world to help fight the Demon King."

Nathan’s blood ran cold.

A hero. From another world.

"Is that... possible?" he asked, keeping his voice steady. "Summoning someone from another world?"

"It’s rare," the scarred man said. "The last something like this was mentioned was over a thousand years ago. But the Head royal archmage, lady Seraphina—she’s the most powerful mage in the kingdom. If anyone could do it, it’s her."

"She pulled it off," the old man added. "They say the hero appeared in a flash of light in the middle of the royal courtyard. Everyone’s talking about it."

Nathan’s mind raced.

If one world could summon a hero, then maybe—just maybe—there was a way back to his own world. The ritual, the magic, the connection between worlds—it was all connected. The ethereal threads. The world gates. The summoning ritual might use the same principles.

He needed to get to the capital. He needed to speak with this archmage. He needed to understand how the summoning worked.

"Thank you," he said, already turning away.

"Wait!" the old man called. "You’re not from around here, are you? You’ve got the look of someone who’s been traveling."

"I am," Nathan said. "And I need to keep traveling."

He hurried toward the Adventurer’s Guild.

---

The guild hall was busy, but Nathan pushed through the crowd to the reception desk. The same receptionist was there, her sharp eyes finding him immediately.

"Back again, F-Rank?"

"I need a map," Nathan said. "A map of the kingdom. All of it."

The receptionist raised an eyebrow. "Planning a trip?"

"Something like that."

She pulled a rolled parchment from beneath the counter and spread it out. It was a detailed map of Albion—cities, roads, forests, mountains. Nathan’s eyes found the capital immediately, marked with a crowned lion symbol.

"The capital is here," the receptionist said, tapping the symbol. "Five days by carriage. Three if you push the horses. The road is safe enough—patrolled by the kingdom’s guards—but with the Demon King’s forces moving, I’d advise caution."

"How much?"

"Three silver."

Nathan paid. The receptionist handed him the map, her expression curious.

"You’re leaving Marriet?"

"I have to."

She nodded slowly. "The academy will miss you. Instructor Harrow doesn’t say much, but he’s been impressed with your students."

Nathan felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t told Mira, Dax, and Ren yet. He hadn’t even told Harrow.

"I’ll..." He paused. "...be back... if I can."

The receptionist didn’t look convinced. "Safe travels, F-Rank."

---

Nathan found the teens at their usual training spot outside the city walls.

Mira was practicing her magic, sending bolts of blue energy at a scarecrow target. Dax was running through dagger drills, his movements sharp and precise. Ren was working on his shield stance, his feet planted firmly in the dirt.

They stopped when they saw him.

"You’re late," Dax called. "We’ve been waiting for—" He stopped, noticing Nathan’s expression. "What’s wrong?"

Nathan took a breath. "I’m leaving."

Silence.

"Leaving?" Mira asked, her voice small. "Leaving Marriet?"

"Yes."

"Where are you going?"

"The capital. There’s something I need to do."

Dax stepped forward, his jaw tight. "You’re just going to leave? After everything?"

"I have to."

"Why?"

Nathan met his eyes. "Because I’m not from this kingdom. I’m not even from... this world. I was... brought here against my will. And I’ve been trying to find a way back ever since I arrived."

The teens stared at him.

"Huh? Another world?" Ren whispered.

"Yes."

Mira’s expression shifted—confusion, then understanding, then something like acceptance. "That’s why you didn’t know anything. Why you asked about Albion. Why you were so... lost."

"Yes."

She nodded slowly. "And the hero? The one the royal family summoned? You think they can help you?"

"I don’t know. But I have to try."

Dax looked away, his fists clenched. "So that’s it? You train us for a few weeks and then just... leave?"

"I didn’t plan this. I didn’t know about the summoning until today. But this is my only lead. My only chance to get home."

Dax didn’t respond.

Ren spoke up, his voice quiet but steady. "You saved my life in the dungeon. You taught me to be better. I... I don’t want you to go. But I understand."

Mira stepped forward and extended her hand. "Thank you. For everything."

Nathan shook it. "You’re going to be great adventurers. All of you. Keep training. Keep pushing. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not good enough."

Dax finally turned back, his eyes wet but his jaw set. "You better come back. I still owe you a rematch."

Nathan almost smiled. "I’ll hold you to that."

---

The carriage was old and rickety, its wheels groaning with every bump in the road.

Nathan sat near the window, watching the Marred Forest pass by. Inside the carriage were six other passengers: a mother and her young son, a bard with a lute and a feathered cap, and two rough-looking men who kept to themselves.

The mother was trying to soothe her son, who was crying about the bumpy ride. The bard was tuning his lute, humming softly. The rough men were sharpening their knives.

Nathan ignored them all. His mind was on the capital. On the archmage. On the hero.

’Master,’ Kuro’s voice came through the link. ’You are thinking too much.’

"Can you blame me?"

’No. But you should rest. The road is long.’

"I’ll rest when I get there."

’That is not how rest works.’

Nathan almost smiled. "Since when did you become the expert on human biology?"

’Since I observed you nearly collapse from exhaustion in the void. You push yourself too hard.’

"I have to."

’No. You choose to.’

Nathan didn’t respond.

The carriage continued through the countryside. Fields of wheat and barley stretched to the horizon. Villages dotted the landscape, small clusters of houses with smoke rising from their chimneys. It was peaceful. Idyllic.

Then they passed the village.

Nathan didn’t notice it at first. He was staring out the window without really seeing, his mind still on the capital. But something made him look. Something made him focus.

The village was empty.

No smoke. No people. No animals.

Then a smell hit him a moment later. Blood. Fresh blood. A lot of it.

"Stop the carriage," he said.

The driver didn’t hear him.

"Stop the carriage!"

The carriage lurched to a halt. The other passengers looked at him, confused.

"What’s wrong?" the mother asked.

Nathan didn’t answer. He pushed open the door and stepped out, his eyes fixed on the village.

It was a small place—maybe twenty houses, a well, a chapel. The kind of village you’d pass through without a second thought. But it was wrong. The doors were open. The windows were broken. And the smell—the smell was overwhelming.

’Master,’ Mirko’s voice was sharp. ’Something terrible happened here.’

Nathan walked toward the village. His [Hunter’s Insight] flickered to life, scanning for threats. Nothing. No mana signatures. No movement.

He reached the first house and looked inside.

The bodies were still there.