The beginning of “The Starlit Tale.”
It was a resonance of magical power strong enough to shake the land.
No, to be precise, it was not magical power, but “demonic poison.”
The word “magical power” did not yet exist in this era.
The “demonic poison” filling the world trembled, and the creaking of buildings echoed throughout the world.
Cracks began to form in the walls of a certain enormous castle.
The name of that castle was “Fuziaze Castle.”
It was a castle that the small country of Fuziaze, located on the fringes of a certain continent, was proud of.
Surrounded by mountains and forests on all four sides, it had become a natural fortress, and it had been protecting the authority of Fuziaze for nearly a hundred years. One of the reasons Fuziaze, a country not blessed with resources like mineral veins, was able to survive to this day was likely the castle’s unusual sturdiness.
Therefore, everyone who lived in Fuziaze felt pride in Fuziaze Castle. The castle was the symbol of the country and the pride held in their hearts.
However, if asked by other countries, they might simply say it was a barren land not worth taking.
To be blunt, the country of Fuziaze was left to its own devices by surrounding countries.
The poverty problem was so severe that some countries believed it would simply fade away if left unattended. In fact, their calculations were correct.
If another disaster had occurred, they would have been easily destroyed. Without any positive external factors, they would have truly vanished naturally.
–However, Fuziaze would survive. It would survive for over a thousand years to come.
There was a positive external factor. And the external factor that visited Fuziaze was something utterly outside the norm.
It was a calamity and a miracle that could overturn the calculations of neighboring countries.
The name of that extraordinary phenomenon was “Apostle.”
There were three Apostles. Their arrival in this country would change the fate of this small nation.
“Diplacula,” the Apostle who governed wisdom and moderation.
“Shis,” the Apostle who governed love and justice.
“Legacy,” the Apostle who governed power and chaos.
These Apostles would further increase the number of extraordinary beings in the country of Fuziaze where they settled.
The next calamity was named “Foreigner.”
The name of the first Foreigner was “Aikawa Hidaki.”
And on this day – the second Foreigner was about to be summoned in Fuziaze.
The resonance of “demonic poison” from before was the aftershock of the Foreigner’s summoning.
And after the aftershock, under this night sky – it was nighttime, considering the time, though the continent was covered in black fog – many soldiers were rushing about in the castle’s large garden.
These were men clad in imposing armor that made metallic scraping sounds.
In an era before convenient magic, the equipment for those in military service was generally heavy. And unlike a thousand years later, the gender ratio was ten to zero. The selection criteria for soldiers emphasized physique and health, so all of them were muscular giants without exception.
Giant men in full plate armor, wielding enormous spears, voiced their irritation.
“Where has the summoned Foreigner gone!?”
“Just a moment’s lapse of attention! They are incredibly swift!!”
“Capture them and bring them here without fail! That person is the one the Apostles spoke of with hope!”
“This Foreigner is wearing peculiar clothes, with black hair and black eyes! Don’t mistake them!!”
The men called him “Foreigner” one after another.
It was easy to infer from their conversation that they were desperately searching for that “Foreigner.”
Furthermore, if one understood the content of their conversation, one could also infer that they intended to treat the person they were searching for with utmost care.
However, reality, sadly, was not that simple.
In the garden where the soldiers were running about, one of the trees at the edge.
A boy with black hair and black eyes, hidden behind the tree, murmured fearfully.
“Wh-what is this…? What is this…?”
The boy did not yet understand the language of this world.
The “Otherworld Language,” which resembled neither English nor Japanese, was as difficult to understand as if it had been ground in a millstone.
Naturally, seeing the giants furrowing their brows and muttering what sounded like incantations, the boy felt nothing but fear.
He didn’t know what would happen if he were caught.
It would be better if it were just death.
He might face something even more terrifying.
It was understandable that he felt this way.
First, the boy was summoned onto a magic circle in a basement that, by his modern sensibilities, seemed utterly insane. It was in a dimly lit place illuminated only by candles, surrounded by suspicious figures in robes. Moreover, among those figures were monsters that were clearly not of this world. Some had appearances akin to the “elves” and “beastmen” that frequently appeared in stories.
It was only natural that he fled immediately.
And the fleeing boy hid behind the trees, holding his breath.
He moved so as not to be discovered by the soldiers.
As he walked, he began to realize that he was in a place like a fortress. This was also a place that deviated greatly from his modern sensibilities. He had no idea why he was in such a place.
His confusion only grew.
Without even being able to calmly organize his thoughts, the boy simply walked.
It was likely that, no matter how many times he was summoned, this boy would react in the same way.
However, despite not understanding anything, the boy understood one thing about the situation. As he moved, panting for breath, he felt something.
“Haa, haa, haa—! —!?”
“The air is unusually delicious.”
He could tell the difference from city air with just one breath.
The air was exceedingly rich, fresh, and sweet.
And his body felt light.
He didn’t think it was due to the air, but he was undoubtedly in better condition than usual. He could even say that he managed to escape from the soldiers thanks to this improved condition.
The boy, offering thanks for this stroke of luck amidst his misfortune, looked around.
“Where, where is there a place to hide—!”
He said this in a panic where there were no soldiers searching.
He knew there was no point in hiding. The best thing would be to escape this fortress. But first, the boy wanted a place where he could calm down.
A place to buy himself time to compose himself from this confusion—
Just then.
“––––, ––––”
“Eh?”
From afar, a clear singing voice could be heard.
Was it singing? It must be.
It was like clear spring water welling up from deep within nature—a voice far more beautiful than any of the men who had been running around just moments before.
Mesmerized by the song, the boy stopped in his tracks.
Although it still sounded like unintelligible incantations to him, it was a strangely charming song.
While it wasn’t perfectly skillful, there was a sense of security that made him want to listen forever.
From the pitch of the voice, he deduced that it was a young woman.
And as if under a spell, the boy walked in the direction of the singing. Perhaps it was because he had been chased by the deep, rough voices of the men, but he was drawn to the high, soft voice.
There were multiple towers within the castle.
Towers for observation, towers for storing supplies. Towers with various roles stood side by side.
–Truly varied.
One of those towers.
A stone tower, built quietly in a corner of the castle grounds.
This was the most peculiar domain among the towers of Fuziaze Castle.
The boy approached the stone tower, holding his breath.
After confirming that there were no soldiers around, he walked across the great garden and reached the door of the tower. Without hesitation, he slowly opened the door.
Fortunately, it was not locked. However, it made a louder “creak” than expected, so he hurriedly entered and closed the door.
The door was shut, and the boy was confined within the tower.
Inside the tower was even simpler than its exterior.
There were no unnecessary items; only a stone spiral staircase snaking up the wall. Glancing up, he could see a single room on the top floor.
As he entered the tower, the singing voice grew louder.
The boy started walking inside the tower.
Whether the boy was still confused, or truly under a spell–he didn’t know, but he proceeded as if guided.
He climbed the stone stairs one step at a time.
There were quite a few steps, but he managed to climb them without much difficulty.
At the end of the stairs was a door.
It was an old wooden door like those seen in Western movies, with a single rusted chain lock. Thinking it might have been a wasted effort, the boy touched the lock.
Then, with a heavy sound, the lock fell onto the stairs.
It wasn’t that it had rotted from old age. The chain lock had never served its purpose as a lock from the beginning; it was merely loosely wrapped around the door handle.
Rather than being surprised, the boy thought it was careless.
Assuming it was a simple oversight of not locking it, he turned the door handle without hesitation.
And, just like the tower door, with another loud “creak,” the door opened.
The moment he opened the door, a cold night breeze blew against the boy’s body.
His eyes closed against the wind. But the boy did not close them.
He could not close his eyes to the sight before him. While the tower stairs were simple, the room on the top floor was the opposite, filled with a lively and eclectic collection of items.
A dark brown carpet covered the floor, leaving no stone visible. It was filled with ornate wooden furniture. In the center was a table. Next to it was a rocking chair, and shelves lined the walls. And on all of this furniture were numerous items that appeared to be books–bound parchment. They filled the table, books swayed on the rocking chair as if a person were there, and the shelves, top and sides–everything was books.
There was one window in the room.
And right beside the window, which reflected the pitch-black sky, was a wooden bed
