Hikma De Darwin sank against a wall.

He didn’t believe anyone would come to find him. After what he had been through the last month, he couldn’t bring himself to believe he was worth anything. Now, sitting in the decrepit edge in the capital city Venistalis, he looked at the cloudy sky above the Grand Empire and reflected on how he ended up leaning on this godforsaken wall.

The rainfall helped masked his tears.

…

Like many, Hikma found himself lost a quarter of a year ago when Earth merged into Phantasia. Unlike many, he took to the situation admirably. After the initial bout of confusion, the young man gathered his bearing and found himself in the best place he could be--a ruin.

As a son of French Archeologist and an Egyptian Physician, Hikma was always fascinated by history. The ruin, the lore, the mystery; all of those colorful texts absorb him ever since he was a young boy. He dreamt of being a discoverer who adventured the world in a path to expand human knowledge. That was why the ruin fascinated him so much. He could spend lifetimes recording and speculating each letter, inscriptions, and illustrations.

Alas, he didn’t have many days.

“Hello, sir,” said the voice of a girl. “Are you lost during the world transition?”

Hikma turned to see an entourage staring at him like he was a madman.

A blonde girl in a white dress stood in front of the group with a half-hearted smile at the boy who was busily looking at the dreary old rock as if they were gold. Next to her, a woman in a military uniform looked eyed the boy like he was rotten fruit. Behind them all, a man in a sophisticated gear and glass looked at the Hikma with pity.

Hikma instantly distrusted the entourage, but he did trust the girl. Even with that half-heart smile, he could still feel his heart beating faster when she approached him. She was the most beautiful thing he ever saw.

“Princess Velnia of Starland,” she said. “I am here to collect you.”

…

The week after that first meeting was the best the boy ever had. Hikma never felt that happy. Not since his father died in a terrorist attack. Barring the company she kept, Velnia was an excellent host.

“Your father is an archeologist?” Velnia blinked. “So he studies ancient ruins?”

“Yes,” Hikma said enthusiastically. “He loved staying and studying the artifact. He said it was an honor to help humanity rediscovered their past.”

“loved?” Velnia asked. “Did he-“

“Yes,” Hikma looked down. “He died three years ago--a week after my birthday.”

“I am so sorry.”

Hikma sadly reflected on how his mother passed away from Cholera before his twelve-birthday. Lost was something natural to every human. It was what his father used to teach him. Through lost, people found a way to treasure what truly mattered. The scar from his sadness would never vanish, but because of it, he becomes much wiser.

“So how did he died,” a woman in a military uniform. “Trip over a staircase?”

“Mercia!”

“Come on, Princess,” the military woman, Mercia, said. “He is the son of paper-pushing ruin dweller. Those types of people are losers. What is the-“

“Explosion,” Hikma’s tone was cheerless. “A terrorist group blew up the street with a car bomb. My father rushed in to help get people to safety, but nobody realized they planted a second explosive.”

Mercia’s mouth hung open. Then she went silent.

“Mercia,” Velnia said. “You own Mr. Darwin an apology.”

Mercia twitched with rage.

“Dream on,” Mercia said through gritted teeth. “His father might have a gut, but I will never apologize to a paper-pushing weakling. Who in this world needs a bunch of old books and stories? What was the point of studying a painting of a caveman? I never understand those ignorant fools in Balperia, chasing and arguing about a historical discrepancy. Did history help win us a war? Did it help me become richer? Heh, more like a subject for an irredeemable weakling who had nothing else to do.”

Velnia tried to argue, but she closed her mouth as the fight went out of her.

Hikma turned silent.

“At least, histories teach me everyone loses in a war.”

“A weakling who never touches glory will say that,” Mercia smirked. “And there is no one weaker than you.”

Hikma did not argue that point. He still remembered what was on his Status ID.

…

Hikma De Darwin

Stat

Str: 22 [E]

End: 88 [E]

Mag: 105 [E]

Wis: 390 [C]

Dex: 80 [E]

Skill

Active

Decode [C]

Passive

Memoria Revision [N/A]

…

That night the sophisticated man called him into a room.

Velnia told him all he needed to know about this man. 

Albert Starling was the personal tutor of the Princess and one of the Starland king’s advisors. He rose quickly through the court with his fast growth in both power-level and political momentum. The man in front of him also had a spiderweb of followers under his faction, which firmly grasped a massive portion of Tengen’s continent politic. 

Albert was also known for his recruitment talent and vision to spot and nurture talent. Velnia had nothing but praises to say about that particular aspect of his.

That was why Hikma couldn’t help but felt a bit deflated that such visionary was looking at him as a beggar on the street.

“Do you know where we are heading, Hikma?” Albert said.

“Velnia said it is the capital of the Grand Empire.”

“Yes,” Albert nodded. “Venistalis. The capital of civilization in this continent. But let me follow this with another question: do you know why we are going there?”

Silence.

“No, sir,” Hikma finally said.

“I will be honest with you here, boy,” Albert said. “Velna is going to meet her fiancé.”

Inside Hikma’s chest, a particular first crush got smashed under an anvil.

“Fiancé?” Hikma replied a bit louder. “Velnia couldn’t be more than fifteen.”

“Do you know anything about Starland, boy,” Albert coldly asked.

Again, Hikma turned silent.

“Starland is a country residing in another continent. We are ancient and powerful enough to be a part of the Seven Continental Alliance. Velnia is our Crown Princess. I will be kind to you, Hikma,” Albert squinted. “I notice how you look at the Princess, but I recommend that you forget about that puppy love of yours.” Albert reproachfully looked at him. “You two have a different status. The Princess will be betrothed to royalty or one of the 33 stars. A talentless weakling like you who believe that you have a chance is ridiculously insulting. I won’t take offense for your earlier transgression, but the guard outside the door certainly would. Do you understand me?”

Hikma gritted his teeth.

“I understand, sir.”

“Good,” Albert clasped his hand together. “Now, don’t feel down. You might be a talentless weakling with a meager power level that even more pathetic than most humans, but I believe you have a use. Strangely enough, the Princess like you.”

Hikma felt a little bit more hopeful, but Albert following sentence crushed that hope further.

“There are not many people the Princess opens her heart too,” Albert said. “This makes convincing her to marry a certain candidate incredibly difficultly. You see, Hikma. Starland needed powerful allies, and this marriage will sweeten many contracts I plan to make. The fact that you are so worthless is also a good point. No one will possibly take you seriously.”

“You want me to manipulate Velnia for you,” Hikma couldn’t help but feel a tad disgusted at the thought.

“Yes,” Albert said. “I know you only arrive on Phantasia, and your commoner background meant you have difficulties adjusting, so I will let you have some time to think. Oh, don’t try to tell Velna about this. You only have a value of a replaceable pawn, Hikma. I have a hundred similar plans that ensured success. You are getting this offer because I pity your useless purpose. If one word of this conversation leak to Mercia or the Princess, I will know, and you will end up where all the worthless pieces eventually go. Do you understand, Mr. Darwin.”

“I understand, sir.”

…

Alas Hikma didn’t even get a chance to answer.

It all happened when he arrived at the capital. Albert took the Princess out to talk to her fiancé, leaving Hikma alone with Mercia. The woman looked at him pitifully and left with a nasty smile on her face. 

Hikma should have known better from that smile alone, but by the time he realized what happened, it was too late.

A bunch of guards approached him by surprise. And with the speed and reflex beyond human-level, they dragged the boy into the nearby alley. Hikma didn’t realize that Mercia chose where the entourage stayed. He never recognized the fact that the nearby dark alley would be a perfect place to get a jump on him. 

The naïve boy never realized how often this happened and how little people cared about a random boy getting a beating in the alley.

“Oof!”

A punch slammed into Hikma’s stomach. The boy fell flat on the floor, and a kick in the face slammed his head in the wall.

“Filthy. Sand. Dweller,” A guard emphasized each point with a kick in the stomach. “A filthy orphan from Elybit like you chatting up with the Princess. Just seeing you together with her makes me want to puke.”

“He is not from Elybit, Jones,” one of the guards corrected. “He is from Earth.”

“Oh, you mean the fresh meat that just joins Phantasia,” one of the guards sneered. “That place is even worse. It is practically in the countryside.”

Another guard lifted the beaten Hikma by the neck and punched him in the face.

“A country bumpkin with a power-level lower than 700,” a guard sneered. “I heard your main stat is wisdom. Heh!” He spat on Hikma. “Get a look, wise-guy. Wisdom doesn’t help your ass right now.”

Hikma coughed, and another kick slammed into his head. Blood dripped from the cut in his forehead as he struggled to get up, but a mild shove from a foot sent him sprawling back on the floor.

“No magic attribute,” a new guard slammed a kick that lifted Hikma from the ground. “Barely any passive skill.” A man delivered another kick. “The reason you are still alive this past month because you are hiding behind the Princess’s skirt.”

“Boss, I heard he want to be one of those ruin dwelling scholars.”

“Oh,” the guard stepped on Hikma’s head. “You want to study some ruin. Are you a sissy who thinks this world is a nice place, little miss. Here, let me teach you how to man up.”

A guard tossed his sword in front of the bruised Hikma.

“Okay, weakling, show me what you got,” the man said. “Pick the sword up and take a swing. I will even let you have a feel shot at me. I won’t even dodge. Come on!”

Hikma’s hand reached for the blade. Indignation coursed to his artery, but before he could unsheathe the weapon, a memory surfaced in his mind. He remembered what his mother said to him when she wasted away on her deathbed.

You are a gentle child, Hikma, His dying mother said. Promise me you will always be kind.

Hikma looked at the sword in his hand and his tormentor. He closed his eyes and cast away the weapon of a killer.

The goading man looked at the boy with disgusted. He knew the boy was angry, but at the last moment, he tossed the weapon aside instead of lashing out. Somehow that very act brought a feeling he never felt before.

Shame. However, anger quickly replaced it.

“You damned brat!” The man picked the sword from the ground and took a swing at the waiting Hikma. Surprisingly, the rest of his comrade panicked and leaped in to stop him.

“Stop it, Walter!” One of the guards yelled. “Mercia never told us anything about killing him.”

“Yes, Commander Mercia might convince the Princess that he got his injury from a training slip-up, but there will be no excuse for us if he ends up dead!”

Finally, the man calmed down.

“Okay, boy,” he glowed at Hikma. “You got beaten up during training. If the Princess and Lord Albert mention anything differently, you are dead, understand!”

Hikma nodded.

“And stay well away from the Princess,” the barked venomously. “A weakling like you will never be worthy of her.”

The man spat on the boy one more time and left with his cronies.

As for Hikma, he had enough. He picked himself up and staggered away from that alley, and the entourage of pain, as far as he could.

He walked, blood dripping from his wound. He kept putting on foot forward another in the street where no one came to help him.

Hikma didn’t know where he got stranded up. The capital city was so large, and despite the people sociably mingling, no one paid attention to the half-dead child stumbling his way across the street. Hikma’s eyes blurred. He wanted to curse this new world and blame the uncaring people in this city, the cruel evil that hurt him, but he knew that was wrong.

 The gentle boy knew two wrong would never make right.

 The sky was darkening to make things worse.

Exhausted beyond believe, Hikma gave up and looked for a place to rest. Strangely enough, he saw a faint multicolor ray of light—a brightness that reminded him of his love for adventure—guiding him into a section of a wall.

He crawled that spot and dozed off. A voice of an angel echoed in his ear.

“Rest Hikma, the heart of my knights. You are home now. Don’t let the word of the unworthy ant trouble you, my child. You are a hundred times the man they ever are. Sleep. You have much to do, Chronicler.”

Hikma cried among the rain and dozed off from his pain.

…

Hikma woke up to the comfortable green light. He noticed someone was holding an umbrella over him, shielding him from the rain.

He pried his eyes opened to see two women: black-hair girl with a long pointy ear holding an umbrella with a murderous look on her face and a petite homely looking blonde who was shining a comfortable green light on his battered body.

“Who are you, people?” Hikma said, trying to get up. However, the blonde girl pressed him to the ground with a warning.

“Don’t move!” She cried. “You broke several ribs. And your arm is fractured. I have several medical supplies with me, so hold still while I fix you up.”

“More importantly, tell me who did this to you,” The pointy ears girl growled. “I will tie them up and sent them to Rem for some quality time.”

“Hold on, Lux,” the goddess panicked. “Phantasia doesn’t have an insane asylum. We don’t want more people going insane as Port did!”

“Who are you, people?” Hikma repeated. It was the first time in this new strange world someone other than Velnia treated like a fellow human.

The blonde girl offered her hand.

“Err,” she cringed. “My name is Cytortia, and this is Luxinna. We are part of an up and coming organization arranged by an all-powerful goddess of good as a final barricade to save the world. Think of us as-“

Cytortia turned toward Luxinna, who finished the girl sentence for her lost friend.

“Think of us as a bunch of Superman emulator. My friend calls it Superheroes. Our boss said that the fifth member on her recruitment list would be—and I quote—a young Archeologist with the gentlest heart who certainly doesn’t deserve the deal he got. She says we will find that person lying here. 

Hikma managed a laugh.

“Well, you find him.”

The girls looked at each other.

“Okay, so will you join us?” Cytortia asked with an awkward smile.

Hikma reflected at what happened to him today and what was waiting for him at the entourage. He took a second to compare that deal to the offer made by these two strange girls who seemed to care about him. Moreover, the gentle voice he heard before his sleep helped ease his decision along.

“Yeah, it couldn’t be worse than what I went through today, so are you fine with having a weakling in your little gang.”

“Dude,” Luxinna said. “I am going to quote my friend here: there is no weakling, only a weak leader.”

After hearing that, Hikma knew he made the right choice.

…

That was the story of how the King of Sorcery joined the Horizon Dawn’s Premier. It was the most unforgivable mark of Starland, leading to one important lesson: always be kind to a stranger.