Chapter 1
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Translator: MJK
Chapter: 001
Chapter Title: 12-Year-Old Andy is an Orphan
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Twelve-year-old Andy was an orphan.
“Andy! Andy!! Get out here right now!”
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Heavy footsteps shook the cramped room under the stairs. Andy jumped to his feet in a panic and rushed outside.
“Did you call me, Gavory Aunt...?”
“Didn’t I tell you to wash the blankets from room three!”
At Gavory Aunt’s words, Andy realized his mistake. He hadn’t finished the chore she’d assigned him the day before.
“I take in a filthy orphan like you, feed you, give you a bed, and this is how you repay me—slacking off?”
“Auntie! I’m sorry...!”
Andy clasped his hands together, begging for mercy.
But before he could finish, her pot-lid-sized palm struck his cheek faster than he could plead.
Smack!
A sharp impact slammed into the twelve-year-old boy’s face.
His small frame couldn’t withstand it—he went flying.
With a crash, Andy tumbled across the wooden floor.
Gavory Aunt dropped the blankets on top of him as he lay there.
“Do it again, and I’ll throw you out for real!”
“...”
“Get it done by tonight!”
Gavory Aunt shrieked hysterically before stomping away with heavy steps. Andy curled up on the floor.
His eyelashes trembled in terror.
Andy couldn’t remember his mother or father.
All he knew was that one day, he’d been abandoned as an orphan in this remote village—and to avoid starving, he had to do anything to survive.
Andy helped out at Gavory Aunt’s inn, the only one in the village.
But “helping” wasn’t the right word—it was more like being worked like a slave.
No pay, just beatings and verbal abuse.
What he got from the work was hardly anything: a tiny room under the stairs barely big enough for a twelve-year-old to lie down in, one meal a day, and bruises and scars all over his body.
“Haaah.”
Andy sighed as he picked up the blankets and headed to the stream on the village outskirts.
It was early winter now. No snow yet, but the chill made his breath puff out in thick white clouds with every exhale.
At the stream, Andy soaked the blankets and started scrubbing them by hand.
‘Cold...!’
The icy water pierced between his finger joints like frozen needles.
Shivering violently, he still worked hard to scrub out the stains. Any visible spots would mean another beating from Gavory Aunt, so he moved his small hands furiously.
Splash, splash.
As the stains faded one by one, the cold grew fiercer. By the time he finished, Andy’s mind was hazy.
Splash!
Finally clean, he wrung out the water and hoisted the heavy blankets.
“Time to head back.”
Andy slung the soaked, heavy load over his shoulder and trudged onward.
Back to the inn to hang them up, then collapse in his room under the stairs—that would end his day.
But he couldn’t return smoothly.
“Hey! It’s Tom’s orphan!”
“Enemy spotted! Attack!”
“Waaah!”
The boys playing in the village square had spotted Andy trudging along with the blankets.
They charged, swinging sticks at him.
Thwack! Thwack!
“Ugh!”
The young boys’ blows weren’t that strong, but the rough bark on the sticks scraped his tender skin.
Andy swallowed the pain and curled into a ball.
Among his attackers, the cruelest was Tom, the son of the innkeeper where he worked.
“Strike down the Empire’s wicked dog! Brave Federation soldiers, charge!”
“Wahaha!”
Tom shouted as he whacked Andy’s body, and the other boys laughed.
It was vicious bullying, but to them, it was just play.
War games.
Tom and the others were always the righteous Federation, while Andy was the evil Empire soldier.
Of course, Andy wasn’t an Empire dog, wasn’t evil, and wasn’t a soldier—but he had no choice but to take it in silence.
He had no parents to protect him, no strength or size to fight back.
Luckily, their game didn’t last long.
“Chris! Monty! Time for dinner!”
“Coming, Mom!”
“What’s for dinner tonight?”
“Jude! You dirtied your clothes again!”
It was dinnertime—the parents had come to fetch them.
Andy uncurled slowly and looked up.
He saw the boys walking off hand-in-hand with their mothers.
Glance.
The mothers spared him only a brief look before heading home without a care.
That was the era they lived in.
Orphans weren’t treated like people, and no one cared if they were beaten or bullied.
Andy watched their retreating backs, feeling something stir.
Anger at the boys who tormented him?
Resentment toward the mothers who didn’t stop them?
Neither.
It was envy.
‘If only I had parents too.’
Andy wanted a family.
A family by his side.
Back in his space—the tiny room under the inn stairs—Andy lay down slowly.
He stretched out his legs and stared blankly at the ceiling.
The space, originally a small pantry for food storage, had a very low ceiling. Even at twelve, standing up meant his hair nearly brushed it.
Gazing at that close ceiling, Andy muttered.
“I want to die.”
Heavy words for a young boy, but Andy meant them.
No family, just abuse and grueling labor.
A prison-like closet of a room. Work too much for his small body.
And above all, soul-crushing loneliness with nowhere to turn.
Too harsh for a twelve-year-old. He wanted to give up everything.
“Mom! Stew again?”
“Eat it nicely.”
“I wanna eat meat.”
“You don’t eat meat anytime you want. Your birthday’s soon—I’ll make some then, so no whining.”
“Really, Mom?”
Lying there, staring blankly, Andy overheard Gavory Aunt and Tom talking.
Unlike how they treated him, their conversation was warm, like any normal family.
The savory smell of stew wafted over, teasing his nose.
-Grrrrr.
His stomach rumbled loudly.
“I’m hungry.”
Living on one meal a day, Andy was always starving.
Suddenly, he chuckled bitterly.
He’d just said he wanted to die, yet his appetite was alive and kicking.
Andy closed his eyes.
“Sleep. If I sleep, I won’t be hungry.”
The mantra he repeated every night, clutching his empty stomach.
Sleep, and the hunger fades.
‘What if I sleep forever? Would the hunger go away forever?’
That sounded appealing.
As he drifted off, entrusting himself to sleep—
-Creak. Step, step, step.
The inn door opened, and people entered.
“Welcome! Staying the night or just dining... Oh?”
“Mom! Aren’t those guys mages?!”
‘Mages?’
Intrigued by the word, Andy cracked his eyes open.
‘Mages!’
Gavory Aunt stared in shock at the three men entering the inn.
They were clearly Federation mages—or so she had to believe.
Their robes were made of fine material at a glance, their faces exuded nobility.
And above all, the blue emblem on their chests: a laurel wreath embracing a star within a book. The mark of a Federation mage.
Gavory Aunt hurried to greet them.
“What brings esteemed mages to our humble inn...”
The youngest mage said curtly, his face impassive.
“Three of your best rooms. We’ll eat separately—no need to prepare anything. Where’s the stable?”
“We’ll take care of the horses. Hey! Tom! Put the horses in the stable!”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I’ll prepare the rooms—please wait just a moment.”
Tom eyed the mages curiously as he passed and headed outside. Gavory Aunt fumbled to open the pantry door beside the kitchen stairs.
Creeeak.
The old wooden door creaked open, revealing Andy, the orphan they employed.
She whispered harshly to him, her face stern but voice low so the mages wouldn’t hear.
“These are mages. Important guests—clean thoroughly, and bring fresh blankets and pillows.”
“Yes, Auntie.”
“After cleaning, move their luggage too.”
Having assigned the tasks, Gavory Aunt scurried into the kitchen. She planned to offer some of her precious wine.
They’d said no meal, but serving nothing could spell trouble.
Mages were as fearsome as nobles—sometimes more so. Offending them could cost your life.
Andy emerged cautiously from his room and glanced at the mages standing in the corner of the inn.
‘So those are mages...’
It was his first time seeing one. Curiosity sparkled in his eyes.
‘Are they really as amazing as the mercenaries say?’
This village on the Federation outskirts was a waypoint to the battlefields, so he occasionally heard stories from mercenaries and war traders at the inn.
Andy recalled what they’d said about mages.
-Mages... they’re human weapons.
-A hundred battle mages wiped out an entire legion of over ten thousand soldiers, clean.
-If you ever see a mage, don’t upset them. They can kill with a flick of the wrist, and if they want, one could burn a backwater village like this to the ground.
-To mages, us commoners are less than bugs. If we annoy them, they squash us without hesitation.
-So be careful around mages. Life’s precious for everyone.
All the mercenaries and traders said the same: “Beware the mages.”
He’d thought it exaggerated. A hundred taking out ten thousand? Hard to believe.
But seeing Gavory Aunt more tense than if nobles had arrived... maybe it wasn’t total hype.
‘Amazing.’
Watching the woman who abused him scurry about in a panic made the mages’ prowess feel real to Andy.
A thought crossed his mind.
‘If I became a mage, I wouldn’t live like this, right?’
Of course, a pipe dream.
Mage talent was rare and hereditary. Almost all mages came from mage families.
A few commoner mages existed, but...
They usually turned out to be illegitimate children of mages. True commoner-born mages were virtually nonexistent.
‘I’m jealous.’
What would it feel like to be someone as incredible as a mage?
Andy took one last look before heading upstairs to clean.
As ordered, he was extra thorough—changed the pillows and blankets to fresh ones, even carried up the mages’ luggage.
Thud!
He set the heavy bag down on the guest room floor and wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
“Phew! That should do it.”
He’d worked more meticulously and quickly than usual. He turned to go tell Gavory Aunt the rooms were ready.
Then—
-Thud.
Something fell behind him.
Turning, he saw a book slipping from a tear in the mage’s bag.
A single volume, neatly bound in leather.
“Oh. It fell.”
Andy picked it up casually, intending to tuck it back in.
The moment his fingers touched it—
“...”
An intense desire overwhelmed him.
‘If I had this book... could I become a mage too?’
A moment’s calm thought would’ve dismissed it as nonsense.
Those without talent could never learn magic.
And he wasn’t even sure it was a magic book. Illiterate, he couldn’t read the title on the cover.
Yet somehow—
Andy felt certain this book alone could teach him magic.
‘What do I do...’
He stood frozen, book in hand, torn between desire and fear of consequences.
As his face hardened in conflict—
Bang!
“Andy! Rooms not ready yet?”
“Eek!”
Gavory Aunt burst in. Startled, Andy instinctively hid the book in his clothes.
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead.