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When Steel Meets Sorcery

Suzuki03
7
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Synopsis
Akira was just an ordinary high school student in Aozora City, with no dreams of grandeur. That is, until he and his class, 3-B from Seishin High School, were summoned to the medieval world of Elyndra. Chosen by a mysterious goddess as “Heroes,” Akira was given a seemingly useless ability: Creation. A skill that could manifest basic weapons and tools — swords, shields, armor — but nothing that could rival the powerful magic and abilities his classmates wielded. Mocked. Abandoned. Betrayed. After giving everything to protect his classmates from monsters and death, Akira was left behind on the battlefield, bleeding and broken. His kindness was his weakness, and they left him to die. Now, Akira’s kindness is gone, replaced by a cold, unrelenting thirst for revenge. Armed with only his "Creation" ability, he will forge weapons of destruction from the very world that betrayed him. No longer a hero, but a villain, Akira’s only goal is to make them pay — one weapon at a time. They thought his power was weak, that he was useless. They’ll soon learn the truth: Akira is the weapon they can never defeat.
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Chapter 1 - Prologue

"Do you believe in gods?

Me?

I never did.

Not without proof.

Until the day everything was stolen from me."

Aozora City — the city under the endless blue sky.

A place where dreams floated lazily across the glass towers, where every sunrise painted hope onto the horizon.

Seishin High School — stood tall in the heart of it all.

A prestigious academy where the future leaders of Japan gathered, laughed, cried, and lived.

Where Class 3-B — just another ordinary group of teenagers — spent their days chasing exams, chasing love, chasing a tomorrow they thought would always be there.

I was one of them.

A face in the crowd.

Nothing special.

Nothing heroic.

My name is Akira.

And everything changed without warning.

It happened during lunch break.

The sun was high, the sky blindingly blue — then suddenly, it cracked.

A blinding light swallowed the classroom whole.

There was no time to scream.

No time to run.

The ground vanished.

The ceiling melted into stars.

In the next heartbeat, we found ourselves somewhere else.

An endless field of silver grass under an alien sky.

Twin moons stared down at us like ghostly eyes.

The air was thick with power, the scent of magic sharp enough to taste.

A woman floated above us — no, something more than a woman.

Wreathed in celestial robes, her voice was music and command all at once.

"I welcome you, Heroes of Another World," she said, smiling like a goddess out of myth.

"You have been chosen to save Elyndra — a world on the brink of ruin."

The students around me gasped, shouted, whispered excitedly.

Me?

I stood silent.

Doubt clawed at my heart.

Heroes? Save the world? Gods?

It sounded like something out of a cheap fantasy novel.

And yet... the chill on my skin, the weight in the air — it was all too real.

We were led to a grand white temple.

There, a strange ritual revealed our "gifts" — the powers we had been granted to fulfill our roles.

The others cheered as brilliant abilities manifested:

Flames roared in one boy's hand.

Arrows of light spun around another.

Shields of magic blossomed like flowers.

One after another, my classmates bathed in applause and admiration.

And then it was my turn.

A quiet light gathered in my hands.

No fire.

No lightning.

No roar of power.

Just a simple message burned into the air:

Skill: Creation

Laughter echoed across the temple.

"That's it?"

"Man, that's useless!"

"Maybe you can build us a house, Akira!"

I clenched my fists, hiding the trembling.

Creation.

A power that let me materialize objects — but only if I knew them completely.

Their structure. Their design.

Every bolt, every blade, every piece.

Without complete knowledge, the creation would fail.

A sword?

A shield?

Maybe a bow, if I concentrated hard enough.

But no dragonslaying magic.

No legendary strength.

Just... tools.

In a world of magic and monsters, what use was a blacksmith without a forge?

Still, I fought.

When the beasts of Elyndra came for us, I stood at the front.

I memorized swords, shields, armor — created them from nothing — and defended the ones who mocked me.

I bled for them.

Protected them.

Believed in them.

Until the day they left me behind.

Broken.

Bleeding.

Alone.

Abandoned by the very people I called friends.

Betrayed in the land of gods and monsters.

And that was when I changed.

When kindness shattered into something colder.

Sharper.

Deadlier.

They called me useless.

They called me a burden.

They forgot that a "Creator" — even a simple one — could build not only swords...

But vengeance itself.