When I opened my eyes, I was in an unfamiliar forest. Thin light filtered through the gaps in the trees. The rustling sound of leaves. The smell of damp earth. Everything was different from the world Reina had lived in until yesterday. "[scared]Where... am I?" She tried to stand, but stumbled. Her body felt incredibly heavy. Looking down, her clothes were the same as what she'd worn yesterday—an unbleached cotton dress. One of her school shoes was missing, she didn't know when she'd lost it. Her black hair, falling to her shoulders, clung to her cheek in the wind. Rubbing her slightly drooping brown eyes, Reina desperately searched her memory. The last thing she remembered was the usual train ride home from school. She'd been tired, sat down in a seat, and then suddenly felt overwhelmingly sleepy. *(My head's spinning...)* She placed her hands on the ground, about to try standing again. That was when she heard it—a rattling, shaking sound coming from the distance. The sound of carriage wheels. "[whispers]Someone's... there." Reina tried to raise her voice. But her throat was bone-dry, and all that came out was a faint, hoarse whisper. Still, it was enough. The carriage showed signs of stopping, and along with ragged breathing, a man's voice came down to her. "Hey, someone's collapsed here." Looking up, she saw a middle-aged man in fine clothes. Behind him were men who appeared to be guards, and an ornately decorated carriage. He glanced down at Reina for a moment, furrowing his brow, but quickly extended his hand. "What are you doing in a place like this? Are you lost?" Reina kept her head down and gave a small nod. "[cold]...Well, never mind. I'll take you to the manor." That was how she met Viscount Valtzer. --- The carriage swayed along the unpaved road. Reina gazed absently out the window. Spreading before her were endless grasslands and small houses dotted here and there. Perhaps wheat fields—a green carpet rippling in the wind. The sky was blue, clouds drifting slowly by. *(An isekai... or something?)* She couldn't believe something like a manga plot was happening to her. But this air, this scenery—this was definitely not Japan. The Viscount sat across from her, scrutinizing Reina intently. "You're not from around here. Where are you from?" "[quiet]...Japan." "A place I've never heard of. Well, no matter. In any case, you haven't had your baptism ceremony yet, have you? Show me your left hand." Reina timidly held out her left hand. The Viscount stared intently at her wrist, narrowing his eyes. "...No mana crest?" His voice carried unmistakable disgust. --- Reina was taken to a magnificent stone manor. High ceilings, golden candlesticks, large paintings hanging on the walls. The moment she stepped inside, she knew this was a place she didn't belong. Seated on a plush sofa in the parlor, Reina sat curled up small, just waiting for time to pass. She'd never been in such a luxurious place. The carpet was so fluffy that just walking on it made her feel apologetic. After a while, a thin man with cold eyes entered. He carried a metal toolbox in his hand. According to the Viscount, he was a "mana appraiser"—a specialist who had studied for three years at the Royal Academy and passed the national examination, the only kind of person qualified for appraisal. "Hold out your left hand. I will confirm the presence or absence of a crest." The appraiser roughly grabbed Reina's wrist and pressed a small plate from his toolbox against it. A cold sensation. Then, he dripped a single drop of some liquid onto it. They waited a few seconds. The plate showed no reaction whatsoever. "...Mana quantity: zero." The appraiser's voice carried the tone of someone looking at trash. The Viscount's expression changed instantly. The fake smile he'd worn until now vanished completely. "[cold]No crest, huh. Picked up a troublesome thing." "Follow the regulations. Brand her. Then throw her out immediately." "[scared]W-Wait, please. I haven't—" She had no time to protest. The guards pinned Reina down, and the appraiser pulled out an iron brand, glowing red-hot from the brazier. The moment it was pressed against her skin, there was a horrible sizzling sound, and the smell of burning flesh filled her nose. "—Nn, AAAAAHHH!!" It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. Reina screamed at the searing agony of her left wrist being scorched. The servants looked down at her with expressionless faces. No one said a word. That was when it happened. Along with the pain, memories she'd been trying to forget came flooding back all at once. *"Your big brother is so admirable. Reina, you need to try harder."* Her mother's voice. Always praising her brother, never seeing her. *"High school acceptance? ...Ah, I see. But it's not as impressive as when your brother got in."* Her father's reaction. The night she'd trembled, clutching her acceptance letter. *"You'll never match up to your brother."* The words she'd been told countless times looped in her head. Even when she achieved excellent results in club activities, even when she worked hard at her part-time job, no one saw her. *I'm worthless anyway.* *I have no value.* --- It was raining. Reina was thrown out of the manor, clutching only a few copper coins. On the scorched skin of her left wrist was a gray cross. The Brand of Incompetence—the mark stamped on humans with no mana. The rain grew stronger and stronger. Her hair clung to her face, her clothes became soaked and heavy. Her feet caught in the muddy path, and she fell again and again. The burn on her left wrist stung sharply as rainwater seeped into it. People passing by saw the fresh burn beneath the wet bandages and averted their eyes. No one called out to her. They pretended not to see. As if Reina had never existed in the first place. *(Someone... help me.)* She murmured in a voice that couldn't become sound. But another part of herself whispered back. *You're not even worth that.* How long had she walked? Her consciousness grew hazy from hunger and exhaustion, and finally, just before a small village, Reina collapsed into the mud. --- The rain had stopped. Reina woke up on a soft futon. An unfamiliar ceiling. A small room with exposed wooden beams. It didn't smell musty—it smelled like hay. "[gentle]You awake, dearie?" Turning her head, she saw a small old woman with a gray-streaked bun, her gentle brown eyes crinkling as she peered at Reina. She was shorter than Reina, maybe around 150 centimeters. Her wrinkled hands held a damp cloth. "Ah, um..." "[gentle]It's alright, you don't have to say anything. First, eat this." So saying, she held out a steaming wooden bowl to Reina. It was simple fare—just white porridge with a few wild vegetables. Reina gripped the spoon with trembling hands. She brought one spoonful to her mouth. It was warm. Just that simple thing, yet somehow, tears spilled over. Another spoonful. More tears. *(So warm.)* Being asked nothing. Just being given something. Reina never knew that such a thing could melt the hardened parts deep inside her heart like this. "[crying]...Nn... uu..." Her voice leaked out, and once it started, she couldn't stop. Clutching the spoon, she broke down crying aloud. A warm hand gently rubbed her back. "[gentle]It's okay for you to be here." --- The next morning, Reina went shopping with Alma at the square of Col Village. From what Alma had told her again last night, this was a small village near the Dragonbone Mountains, at the northernmost edge of the Kingdom of Valdeen. The population was just over a hundred. Everyone scraped by with farming and livestock. As they walked the village path, the villagers they passed called out "Good morning." Even to Reina, who should have been a stranger, they gave warm greetings with just a slight tilt of their heads. The square had only one small general store and a few peddlers' stalls. Even so, Alma would start a long chat with the shopkeeper every time she bought a single vegetable. Beside her, Reina kept asking herself over and over in her heart whether she really had the right to be here. *(If the brand on my left wrist is discovered, I'll definitely cause trouble.)* But then she remembered the warmth of last night's porridge. Alma's hands. When she recalled those things, she couldn't help wanting to stay here just a little longer. Just then, a wobbly old man approached. He had short, graying hair and a scruffy beard. His small, deep-set eyes looked a little intimidating at first glance. He was a bit taller than Reina, with a slightly hunched back. Without a word, he held out a pair of leather shoes to her. "Huh...?" "[quiet]...Put 'em on. Can't walk barefoot, can ya?" A brusque way of speaking. But his hands gently offered the carefully stitched shoes, and his small, deep-set eyes were smiling just a tiny bit. "Th-thank you very much." When Reina took them, he turned to leave without another word. But then, as if suddenly remembering, he looked back and added just one thing. "[quiet]...Come to the shed later. I'll teach ya how to use the farming tools." While Alma browsed dried meat at a peddler's stall, Reina just gazed absently around the square. Then, from the next stall over, she heard the voice of a man who seemed to be a traveling merchant. Apparently, he was sharing rumors. "...I hear that long ago, even if you had no mana inside your body, there was a technique to manipulate the mana around you." "Huh, magic like that?" "Yeah. They called it mana manipulation or something. But it was a pretty advanced technique, and the story goes it died out hundreds of years ago." Reina felt a small pang in her chest at those words. But she didn't know what it meant. It was just a rumor. It had nothing to do with her. --- When they returned home, Georg was waiting in front of the shed. He silently handed her a hoe and pointed to the small field next to it. Every time Reina swung the hoe down, he silently demonstrated the proper way, occasionally just saying "...Wrong," and correcting the angle of her wrist. *(He's way too quiet.)* But it didn't feel unpleasant. Rather, the way he taught her properly without saying much felt somehow refreshing. In the evening, Alma changed the bandages on Reina's left wrist in her room. When the bandages came off, the gray cross was laid bare. "[sad]...That must've hurt." Alma asked nothing. She just gently traced the brand with her wrinkled fingers. "I was poor too, when I was young, you know. Georg and I, we started from nothing, just the two of us. This village is small and inconvenient, but everyone calls each other by name, and we all live helping each other out. That's the kind of place this is." For the first time, Reina felt like someone was simply listening to her. But at the same time, she thought: *(I mustn't cause trouble for these people. I really do have to leave here someday.)* The night grew late. In the shed out back, Reina lay wrapped in a single blanket. Moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the floor in a long, narrow strip. She recalled the events of the day. The warm porridge. Alma's hands. Georg's silent way of teaching. *(Maybe... I could find something here.)* A faint hope. But every time the brand on her left wrist throbbed with pain, that hope seemed about to be snuffed out. This world showed no mercy to humans without mana. That was the reality branded into her with that searing iron. From the distant mountains, she thought she heard the low, rumbling roar of a beast. It might have just been her imagination. But deep in Reina's heart, something new was beginning to sprout—she had a definite premonition of it.