"Fuyu! Are you awake yet? Breakfast is ready!"
The quiet of a two-story concrete house in a forgotten corner of the Kingdom of Ovalen was shattered by the voice of an old woman shouting from downstairs. It was home to just two people—one of whom was currently buried under a blanket upstairs in the cushy bed, refusing to acknowledge the sun streaming through the window.
"Hmmmm~ Five more minutes… mmmph," came the groggy reply.
"If you don' t get up, you' ll be late for school again! It' s already 7:55 a.m.!"
That line hit him like lightning.
"Se-seven wha—"
Fuyu shot upright—but too fast. He hadn't noticed he was lying at the edge of the bed, and the sudden movement sent him tumbling off with a solid thud as his head smacked the floor.
"Owwww…" he groaned, sitting up and rubbing the sore spot on his head.
The sunlight revealed a boy with messy, vaguely spiky brown hair and soft, rounded eyes. He looked youthful—still in that awkward space between child and teen—his cartoon pajamas doing him no favors.
His name is "Yoshitsuna Fuyu"
His gaze snapped to the glowing wall-mounted clock.
"AHHHH!!! I' M GOING TO BE LATE!"
He began frantically grabbing his uniform, hopping on one foot as he rushed to the door, only to trip over his own legs and fall again—this time landing squarely on his left knee.
"Ow! That' s gonna bruise—BUT I' M LATE!"
The boy scrambled to his feet and flung the door open.
Thud Thud Thud… Creak.
The sounds echoed as he tore down the wooden stairs like a stampede. He didn' t care that the steps were old or creaky. All he could think about was the mandatory morning ceremony and how everyone would be laughing at him again.
"Fufu… still as energetic as ever, Fuyu," came the amused voice of the old woman from the kitchen.
Fuyu barely glanced her way as he rushed toward the bathroom. She had dyed-black hair streaked with grey, thick glasses that magnified her eyes, and a hunched back from years of work. Her arms were folded calmly behind her. A broom swept the floor nearby, guided by Makra energy, moving gently on its own.
"Grandma! Why didn't you wake me up earlier!?" he called as he ducked into the bathroom.
"I did, Fuyu-chan! Since 7 a.m., in fact. But you kept mumbling 'five more minutes' —about ten times."
"Hey! Don' t call me Fuyu-chan!" came the muffled protest through the bathroom door.
"Hoho~ My little Fuyu-chan is really growing up. I still remember when you' d hug me on cold mornings and tell me how much you loved your old grandma…" She dabbed her eyes dramatically—but on closer inspection, she was clearly using eye drops.
"What?! I don' t remember that!" Fuyu shouted from inside. "And that was way long ago!"
Inside the bathroom, he used a plastic bucket to scoop cold water from the old-fashioned tank, even though the modern shower stood untouched beside it. He couldn't use it—it required Makra to function. The water from the tank was still warm due to his grandma help.
His grandma sighed when she heard the bucket splash instead of the shower hiss.
"So… your Makra still hasn' t awakened, huh?"
The question struck a nerve. Fuyu stopped mid-scoop, frozen in place. His fingers clenched the bucket. His gaze fell. The silence grew heavy.
But the old woman' s voice quickly turned upbeat again.
"That doesn't mean this old lady will stop loving you, Fuyu-chan! You' re only thirteen! Sure, most kids awaken their Makra between ages zero and six, but the holy scriptures never said it couldn' t happen later! Maybe you' re just… special. Maybe you' re the gifted one mentioned in the prophecy!"
She laughed, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
But Fuyu didn't laugh.
'The gifted one? I can't even outrun a stray dog, he thought bitterly. I can' t ride a Makra-fueled bike. I can' t do chores without Grandma' s help. I can' t even boil water on my own.'
He sank further into his own thought.
'Maybe… if I had Makra, even just a little, I wouldn't get laughed at so much.'
'Maybe Grandma wouldn't have to carry all the weight.'
'Maybe if I hadn't been adopted, she' d have an easier life.'
"Fuyu~!" her voice called, snapping him out of his spiral. "You' ll miss school if you soak in there much longer. It' s already 8:05! Or is today a day off? Hmm, but I didn' t hear anything on the news."
"UWAAAAAH!!!" came the scream of being late realization.
"Hoho~ Judging by that voice, don' t forget your lunchbox."
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Fuyu rushed out of the bathroom fully dressed in his school uniform—a crisp white mandarin-collared shirt with a silver-stitched emblem of a phoenix coiled with a serpent, and dark tailored trousers. His tie was missing, still clutched in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Grandma! I'll eat when I get back, I promise! Just store it in the fridge for me!"
"Hoho~ As always," she replied, clearly used to this routine. The fridge, like most things in the house, required Makra—so she'd have to activate it for him.
He grabbed a slice of toast in his mouth, another in his hand, his satchel from the sofa, and was just about to bolt out the door when—
"Fuyu~! Don't forget your pink ribbon!"
He froze. Turned.
She approached, warm smile on her face, one hand still behind her back, the other holding out a small, faded pink ribbon. It looked ordinary. Non-magical. Fragile.
"Oh—! Right. Thanks, Grandma."
He hesitated only for a moment before taking it. He didn't remember when he started carrying it. Didn't know where it came from. But when it was in his hand, it just… felt comfortable to have it,
It somehow calmed him. Reminded him that he wasn't entirely alone.
He tucked it into his pocket like a treasure.
Then he turned to leave. "Bye, Grandma! I'll be home soon!"
"Don't get chased by any more corgis!" she called cheerfully.
The streets were strangely empty.
Fuyu ran through the village, heart pounding, the toast in his mouth slowly dwindling with each bite. There were no farmers outside, no vendors calling, no children loitering on corners.
Must be because of the monster warning, he thought. He remembered the Makra-powered news from the night before. They said it wasn't dangerous. Just "classified wilderness creatures under control."
Still, the silence was unsettling.
"Whatever, it not like it's my problem anyway." He shrugged to himself.
Not that he had time to care. Other students sped past him on glowing bikes, Makra-powered skateboards, and even floating one-wheelers. He for a moment sulked about not possessing any of it again, but once he squeezed the pick ribbon.
His frustration eased. Just a little.
Makra.
The invisible force that powered... well, everything.
As he ran, he passed a squad of Ovalen soldiers marching down a distant street. Their weapons glowed faintly with sealed energy. On the other side, a farmer was guiding a bulky tractor with one hand—its engine moving like it was alive, fully controlled by his Makra.
Makra could build cities, run machines, even knock down mountains. Most people used it like it was second nature.
But not Fuyu.
It was like a language his body never learned. He clenched his fists and kept running.
As his thoughts were running, he passed by a local adventurer guild. At the sight of it, he remembered that he had originally planned not to continue studying due to the traumatic experiences he had in middle school. Instead, he considered enrolling in an adventurer guild.
But since he had no Makra elements, he intended to stay at the lowest rank, imagining himself doing very insignificant but heartwarming quests—like delivering items or rescuing cats or dogs stuck in trees.
But as soon as he pictured himself helping a dog, his mind instinctively flashed back to being chased by the neighbor's corgi—a dog that had gotten loose from its leash and was already furious from his earlier taunting. He had had a bad day at school back then and took it out on the corgi, provoking it relentlessly. And the rest was... well, history.
"Just thinking about it made my butt hurt," Fuyu thought to himself as the image of being bitten on the butt flashed through his memory.
After a while of running, he finally reached the main gate of his school—Saint Mori School—known for its iconic emblem of a phoenix coiled by a serpent.
It was famed as one of the best schools in the countryside of the Ovalen Kingdom, even securing a respectable spot in last year's Church School Rankings: 1987th out of 10,000 registered schools.
The church's influence over Saint Mori was limited and modest compared to other schools, but its shadow still loomed. Due to the autonomy the church had conceded, high-ranking officials were still sent every year to inspect the school.
Why the church loosened its grip on Saint Mori in the first place remained a mystery.
Saint Mori offered a broad curriculum, covering all aspects of Makra Elements—engineering, weapon blacksmithing, Makra flow (for weapons and accessories), Makra-based combat, alchemy—and even subjects unrelated to Makra, such as martial arts and traditional weapon fighting.
There were many more, but Fuyu wasn't particularly interested. Since he had no Makra, he chose Engineering.
Fuyu didn't even know how he ended up enrolled in this top rural school in the first place. He couldn't remember when—or even how—he had applied.
In fact, he couldn't remember anything before he was adopted by his grandmother at the age of eight. She never told him anything about his past.
One day, Grandma just handed him an envelope and said, "It's yours. You're meant for this."
Today was Fuyu's first day at Saint Mori School as a high school student.
Now he stood in front of the main entrance gate, hesitating about whether to go in.
He had no clue what time it was (though he was pretty sure he was late), since he didn't have a watch—and even if he did, he probably wouldn't be able to use it anyway. So instead, he took a moment to observe the school's appearance and decorations.
As Fuyu peered through the main gate, he saw dozens of buildings—but two in particular stood out. One was a large gray structure that looked like a dormitory or perhaps a facility for physical education or other activity-based classes. The second was far more striking: an enormous building, the largest he had ever seen outside of television. Its sheer size rivaled that of the Ovalen Duke's castle.
Judging by its scale and grandeur, Fuyu guessed it was the main building—likely housing the central hall and most of the classrooms. Its design followed a bright white theme, constructed entirely of polished marble that gleamed so intensely under the sun that it was hard to look at directly.
"Phew! Here I come, new life. I just hope this school isn't too racist about being Makra-less," he muttered as he stepped through the school gate—completely forgetting that he was already late.
"Yoshitsuna-san."
The voice was icy.
He turned slowly.
A tall teacher stood before him, arms crossed, a clipboard in hand. Behind her, the morning ceremony was already underway.
"You are late," she said coldly. "As such, you will run ten laps around the campus… and deliver a formal apology in front of your peers."
Fuyu's face drained of color.
"EHHHHHH?!"
----------------To be continue--------------------