Reincarnation of the magicless Pinoy!
From zero to hero
",No magic, No Problem!"
Encounter 29: Two sides of the same coin
The door to Conference Room Sigma was left slightly open, just enough to make someone curious—but not enough to feel welcoming.
Rolien pushed it open.
The light inside was soft, filtered through high, narrow windows. A tall man stood at the far end of the room, arms crossed behind his back. His gray cloak hung over his shoulders like it had weathered decades of field work. He didn't turn around right away.
> "Took you long enough," the man said, voice familiar and dry.
Rolien let the door close behind him. "Tch. Didn't know fossils could still move."
The man turned then, smiling. Crow's feet marked the corners of his eyes.
> "You've grown, my boy."
> "You got old, King Kong."
Ardan Grey chuckled, stepping forward to clap a strong hand on Rolien's shoulder.
> "Still calling me that, huh?"
> "You earned it. Still have that dumb scar from the time you wrestled a mana bear without armor?"
> "It was drunk. I was young."
> "Sure. That's what they all say."
---
They sat at the wide stone table. No guards. No distractions. Just blood and purpose.
Ardan pulled a rolled scroll from his satchel and laid it flat.
> "I came for help. Real help. This isn't military. This is survival."
Rolien scanned the blueprint. A large river basin stretched across the page, with markings showing where it was beginning to overflow into farmland and lower terrain.
> "The southern province," Rolien said. "This river's pushing outward."
> "Fast," Ardan added. "The last flood nearly washed out a small town. City planners tried enchantments. They're cracking already. They didn't plan for nature to outlast mana."
Rolien looked up. "So you need a dam."
> "Not just any dam," Ardan said. "We need something durable. Non-magical. And built with speed. I pulled favors to get you on-site for a week. I need your brain, your hands, and your nasty habit of fixing things people say can't be fixed."
Rolien exhaled through his nose and pulled a pencil out of his side pouch.
He flipped over the scroll and began sketching—clean, sharp lines forming a sweeping dam structure with layered barriers, angled spillways, and reinforced support walls that weren't drawn from magic—but from raw, practical experience.
> "We raise the dam here," he said, pointing. "Give it a slight bow—curved structure handles pressure better. Install sluice gates along the bottom. That'll allow flow regulation without relying on spell channels."
> "And energy?" Ardan asked.
> "Waterwheels. Converted to drive local power units. Storage facilities for dry season irrigation. It won't just hold the river back—it'll make the region thrive."
Ardan stared at the diagram as it formed. His mouth opened slightly.
> "Gods above… you just—did all that in two minutes."
Rolien didn't look up.
> "We did something like this once," he muttered.
---
Memory – Earth, Years Ago
A village somewhere in East Africa. The heat was heavy, and the river had swollen, creeping closer to the edges of the settlement each month.
Rowan—the man who would become Rolien—stood beside his special operations team, watching local men dig trenches by hand. There was no magic. No enchanted stone. Just bare hands, aching backs, and quiet desperation.
> "We used scrap metal and sandbags," Rolien said aloud in the present. "Stabilized the overflow with reinforced ribs. It wasn't pretty. But it held."
>"Hey, captain. Be sure you're gonna treat us a drink later!" Mike shouted while digging.
>"Yeah. I want a cold beer after this!" Tom added
"Yeah,yeah...it's on me" he replied and all of his squad cheer and shouted"your on!!!"
He stared at the sketch forming beneath his hand.
> "Sometimes all it takes is giving people a little time to breathe."
---
Ardan was quiet for a beat, watching his nephew not as a child—but as a man who'd lived more than one life.
> "Your father would be proud. Your mother too."
Rolien shrugged, finishing the outer layer of the blueprint.
> "They'd be yelling at me for doing government work unpaid."
Ardan laughed.
> "We'll leave tomorrow. I've got transport ready and a crew waiting. Just say the word."
Rolien rolled the blueprint up neatly.
> "I'll pack."
The sun was hot over the valley, casting long shadows across the half-built dam site.
Rolien crouched by the riverside, scribbling notes on a parchment nailed to a wooden board. His prosthetic clicked and adjusted as he marked measurements, murmuring to himself.
> "Raise the arch five degrees… Spillway's too tight. Push the slope eastward two meters."
The team worked like clockwork under Ardan's command, driving anchors, lifting framework, clearing debris. No mana. No enchantments. Just muscle and method.
And behind it all, Rolien's steady hand.
---
By afternoon, the structure was beginning to take shape. The skeleton of the dam's foundation stood defiant against the river, and even the senior engineers were starting to look at Rolien like he wasn't just some noble cadet—they were seeing the blueprint genius in action.
---
That Night – Academy Grounds
Mira and Leto strolled across the inner courtyard, just stretching their legs after study hours.
> "Did you finish that mana manipulation report?" Leto asked, hands behind his head.
> "Barely. I think my brain bled a little."
They both laughed, taking the eastern wing corridor without thinking. The hall was quiet, most students already in their dorms.
Then—Leto stopped.
Ahead of them, a figure in a dark cloak moved swiftly toward the far stairwell, unlocking a sealed hatch they hadn't noticed before.
> "...Did you see that?" Leto asked.
> "Where the hell is he going?"
The door shut behind the cloaked figure with a soft metallic thud.
> "Was that a professor?"
> "I don't think so."
They exchanged a glance. Not panicked—just curious. But they didn't follow.
> "Weird," Mira murmured. "Let's just... remember this."
---
The Next Morning – Dam Site, Day Two
Rolien leaned against a crate of tools, sipping something black and bitter from a dented tin mug. His coat was dusty, and there was ink on his jaw where he'd rested his head against his drafting hand while working through the night.
Behind him, engineers moved equipment into position.
> "We'll start the pour at midday," Ardan said. "River's cooperating so far."
Rolien nodded. "For now."
Not long after, a few site workers murmured among themselves near the transport platform.
> "Hey—mana readings back at the academy flared up last night."
> "Spiked hard. They said it was centered right under the spire."
> "Faculty ran a full inspection. Came up with nothing."
Rolien's eyes narrowed faintly at that. But he said nothing.
---
Academy Grounds – Afternoon
Mira and Leto sat under a shaded stone arch near the gardens, lunch trays between them.
> "So... mana readings spiked last night, huh?" Mira said, picking at her bread.
> "Yeah. Right around the time that guy went underground."
> "Think it's connected?"
> "Probably. But you know how it is—if we tell a professor, they'll just say it's an enchantment echo or some nonsense."
Mira smirked. "You want to call him?"
> "You do it."
> "You."
> "You."
> "...Fine."
She pulled out her comm crystal and tapped into the relay frequency.
---
Dam Site – Temporary Command Tent
Rolien's wrist blinked softly.
> [Incoming Call – Mira Reigan]
He accepted the call with one hand, sipping from his mug with the other.
> "Yo."
> "Hey! Just checking in. Princess told us to say hi."
> "She with you?"
> "Pretending not to listen," Mira said with a smirk.
> "Figures."
> "Anyway... How's the dam?"
> "Tall. Heavy. Wet. You?"
> "Tired. Bored. Slightly cursed."
Rolien arched a brow. "That last one's new."
Leto chimed in, leaning toward the crystal.
> "Big mana spike last night. Centered at the academy's heart."
> "And we might've seen a cloaked guy sneaking into a sealed stairwell before it happened."
> "No ID?" Rolien asked.
> "Too fast. But it's not random."
> "You want me back?"
> "Nah," Mira said. "We're just keeping tabs. You focus on your big-boy dam."
> "...Right."
He ended the call and stood in silence, eyes drifting toward the far-off horizon.
The dam was almost half done.
But something beneath the school was just starting to crack open.
Location: Unknown Room Beneath the Academy
The walls of the hidden chamber were cold and wet, untouched by light or time. Ancient runes long deactivated lined the stone, and mana crystals flickered weakly from the ceiling like dying stars.
Luke Arcadia stood before the man in the gray cloak—older, composed, a sharp grin tucked under his trimmed beard. He held no rank in the academy. No title. But Luke had long stopped asking who he was.
Because power didn't need names.
The man handed him a familiar ring—dark metal with a red core humming faintly.
> "You hesitate," the man said calmly.
> "I'm not," Luke muttered, taking the ring.
> "Good. That pride will serve you. Or destroy you."
Luke slid the ring on. The weight of it sank into his bones like ice.
---
> "I was supposed to be the top," Luke muttered. "Not... him."
The man's grin returned, slow and sharp.
> "The boy with one arm. No magic. And yet... he's the one everyone whispers about now."
Luke's jaw clenched.
He remembered the numbers on the leaderboard during the incursion—Rolien Grey, first place, solo kills, squad coordination, field tactics.
He remembered the moment his professor whispered in shock:
> "That's... impossible. He's a first-year."
> "And he's not even using mana..."
It wasn't just anger.
It wasn't just jealousy.
It was something deeper.
A hatred Luke couldn't explain.
Something that burned whenever he saw Rolien walk by—calm, confident, untouched by the same pressure that clung to Luke like chains.
> "He took everything," Luke muttered. "And I don't even know why I hate him."
The man stepped closer, voice lowering like a blade unsheathing.
> "Hate doesn't need a reason. Sometimes, it's born across lives."
Luke looked up sharply.
The man smirked.
> "You don't remember. Not yet. But you will. That ring you wear—it will stir the truth. Just as he begins to remember, too."
> "He?"
> "Your enemy. The one you've always fought. The one who always stood in your way."
The man placed a hand on Luke's shoulder.
> "You were not born to lose, Luke Arcadia. The world just forgot who you were. It's time to remind them."
Luke's fingers tightened into fists.
> "You said you had a plan."
> "I do," the man nodded. "The headmaster—he's not who he pretends to be. He's part of the reason your birthright was buried. And when the time comes, we'll rip this place from its foundations."
> "Starting with the school?"
> "Starting with them. The students. The symbols. The heart of this place. You'll make it fall."
Luke nodded slowly, his face grim.
> "Let them admire that crippled prodigy for now."
> "Because when the dust settles," he whispered, "I'll bury them all."
---
Unknown to Luke...
The man in gray stepped back into the shadows after Luke left, touching the cold ring on his own hand.
The same hand that had once unleashed Groteus four years ago—before it spiraled out of control and vanished beyond the veil of worlds.
> "Soon," he muttered. "The cycle begins again."
> Two old rival blades born to cross again."
Academy Grounds – Day Two
What began as quiet murmurs was now spreading like wildfire.
The mana concentration under the academy had spiked again.
Not a ripple. Not a flicker.
A pulse.
And this time, everyone felt it.
During sparring, students fumbled. In meditation class, crystals cracked. A simple enchantment exploded in someone's hand—no injuries, but enough to send half the classroom scrambling.
> "Was that another mana surge?!"
> "Third one in two days!"
> "Professor! Something's wrong!"
No official announcement came from the faculty. But that only made things worse.
The older students began digging through restricted tomes. First-years whispered about forbidden rituals and sealed beasts. A few even packed small bags "just in case."
No one said it out loud—but it was becoming obvious:
Something was wrong beneath the academy.
---
Training Field – Late Afternoon
Squad 12—Sophia, Mira, and Leto—gathered at their usual tree, but this time they weren't eating or joking.
They were watching.
Watching as students glanced nervously toward the main tower.
Watching as professors walked faster through corridors, whispering among themselves.
> "They're trying to downplay it," Mira said, arms crossed. "But this isn't normal."
> "I felt it during sword drills," Leto muttered. "The mana literally pushed me off balance. Like... pressure building."
Sophia tapped her fingers on her knee. Quietly.
> "They're scared," she said. "Everyone is. Even the professors are rattled."
> "Think it's that cloaked guy we saw?" Mira asked.
> "No way it's a coincidence," Leto said. "Mana surges started right after he disappeared underground."
> "But why now?" Sophia said. "And why here?"
No one answered.
The tree above them rustled in the wind, but even the breeze felt... tense.
---
Inner Courtyard – Later
A crowd had gathered near the stone terrace facing the spire tower. Students from different classes. Different ranks. Different houses. All murmuring.
> "Did someone trigger an ancient seal?"
> "I heard it's a cursed chamber that the headmaster sealed off decades ago."
> "My brother's a fourth-year. He said the magical grid under the school's core lit up on his scrying crystal last night. Bright red."
> "Bright red?! That's danger level six!"
> "Should we report it? Should we leave?!"
> "They won't let us."
Panic was creeping in. Quiet, but growing.
---
Faculty Hall – Behind Closed Doors
Professors stood over a magical map of the academy. Threads of mana drifted from the surface to the deep sublayers.
One node was glowing.
Bright. Unstable.
> "It's building again."
> "Containment runes haven't responded."
> "We searched those sectors already—nothing was there!"
> "Then something is slipping past us."
No one said it, but everyone was thinking it:
If the spike kept rising, there wouldn't be a school left to protect.
Location: Academy – Upper Administration Floor
The tension was thick even at the highest level of the academy.
Within the walls of the marble-clad Principal's Office, Grandmaster Head Principal Veylor Thorne stared at the arcane readouts hovering before him. Dozens of sigil lines traced the underground ley channels like veins. At the center: a bright, flickering knot of mana, pulsing erratically.
> "Seal stability... 38%," his aide reported, pale. "It dropped another twelve percent overnight."
> "No triggering spell?" Thorne asked.
> "No external magic. But it's like something's... pushing from the inside."
He said nothing.
The principal's gaze dropped to the sealed folder on his desk. It was labeled 'Emergency Protocol: Blackgate Archive'—a file that hadn't been touched in nearly forty years.
He didn't open it.
Not yet.
---
The office doors opened.
A small delegation entered—dressed in clean, travel-worn uniforms. Their badges were civilian-adjacent, but bore the seal of the Empire's Civil Works Division.
> "Apologies for the delay, Headmaster," the man in front said, bowing slightly. "We were informed you requested additional consultation regarding the underground structure?"
Principal Thorne nodded, standing slowly.
> "Yes. We've encountered... irregularities. And your team's expertise was vouched for by Duke arcadia himself."
The man smiled politely.
Behind him were two more aides, quietly observing the room.
And just outside the door—leaning against the wall like a shadow—stood Luke Arcadia.
---
Luke – Outside the Office
He didn't speak.
Didn't pace.
He just stood there, arms folded, hood low, staring at the floor like he wasn't listening in.
But he was.
> So this is the core office, he thought. This is where they buried it all.
Through the crack in the door, he heard the man in gray speaking to the principal—his tone perfect, professional, warm.
But Luke knew better.
That man had once destroyed a city's mana grid with a single forged sigil.
He'd created Groteus, after all.
This entire "consultation" was just the first phase.
They weren't here to stabilize the school.
They were here to undo it.
---
Inside the Office
> "We'll need full access to the academy's substructure," the gray-haired man said. "Tunnels, crystal networks, even the sealed floors. We'll deploy our teams quietly. No disruption to student activity."
Principal Thorne hesitated.
> "And you're certain this isn't tied to external manipulation?"
The man smiled faintly.
> "Our job is to find out. That's why we're here."
Thorne glanced again at the red sigil map on his wall.
It flickered. Dimmed. Then flared brighter.
For just a heartbeat... it pulsed like something alive.
He closed his eyes.
> "You'll get what you need."
> "Excellent," the man replied smoothly.
---
Outside, Luke turned his head toward the stairwell, eyes narrowing.
From deep below, something was... calling.
Something old.
Something waiting.
Location: Sublevel 3 – Abandoned Maintenance Chamber
The flickering crystal lights gave the wide chamber a sickly glow. Dust coated the ancient stone walls, and thick cables—long since deactivated—hung from cracked conduits. It had once been part of the academy's first expansion project, meant to house arcane batteries and emergency reserves.
Now it served another purpose.
Metal. Wire. Pressure seals. Copper coils.
And a thick black cylinder the size of a water drum.
Luke crouched beside the device, tightening a bolt. His fingers moved with military precision—not magical, but mechanical. No spells. No runes.
Just pure design.
> "This isn't local tech," he muttered.
> "Of course it isn't," said the man behind him.
The man in the gray cloak stepped forward, calm and methodical. His voice echoed faintly as he set another crate down.
> "What you're building didn't come from this world. I brought the blueprints myself."
Luke looked up. "So this is from Earth."
The man smirked. "Modified. But yes."
> "And what's it do again?"
The man approached the black device and tapped the reinforced casing. "This is our backup plan. In case the principal doesn't comply and refuses to unseal the lower archive."
> "So we blow it up?"
> "Not the whole school," the man said. "Just... enough. A detonation below the foundation will cause structural collapse. Mana will destabilize. Panic will rise."
He looked at Luke, eyes cold.
> "And that's when he comes running."
Luke didn't say his name. He didn't need to.
Everyone in the group already knew who they meant.
> "You're sure?" Luke asked.
> "Our intel says he doesn't let people die. Not if he can stop it. It's in his blood. He'll come."
Luke leaned back, cracking his knuckles slowly.
> "Heh. The one-armed freak... always playing hero."
> "Let him," the man said. "Because once he shows himself... we'll know for sure."
Luke's grip on the wrench tightened.
> If I can't beat him face-to-face... then I'll tear down everything he tries to protect.
---
Location: Nearby – Supply Room
The rest of the team worked quietly. Some were adjusting mana-dampeners. Others prepped stealth glyphs to hide the device's energy signature. One silently unpacked a coiled rope and metal detonator—primed with both flint and internal crystal.
Everything was silent.
Efficient.
Purposeful.
These weren't simple saboteurs.
They were operators.
---
Back in the Chamber
The device hissed as the final coil settled into place.
Luke stood.
> "There. All done. Timer works. Trigger crystal's on standby."
The man in gray handed him a sleek, black ring-shaped controller—linked to the detonator.
> "Congratulations. You just built the first earth-style warhead this world has ever seen."
Luke slid it onto his hand, eyes sharp.
> "Let's see if the academy holds up... or burns down."
To be continued...