"It's starting to get chilly, maybe I should have dressed more ..."Eizo Gigli, a young man about to turn twenty, said to himself during a solitary excursion to a wood in the Alps, on an August morning.He was dressed in ocher yellow shorts and a midnight blue gym jacket, with tall dark brown boots on his feet, thinking it wouldn't be so cold.He had come to Italy from the USA with his parents for the funeral of his paternal grandfather and to meet his grandmother whom he had not seen for many years.Eizo was in fact half American, on his mother's side, and half Italian, on his father's side. He was average tall, had curly black hair, dark brown eyes, and long eyebrows; in his life he has always played sports, inheriting his father's passion for football, and for this reason he had a sporty and agile physique.If you're wondering why his parents gave him a Japanese name, well, both his father and mother have always been passionate about Japanese culture, and it was on one of their tri

"I ... I'm not a hero!" I raised my voice, "Besides, why am I here? Soon there is my grandfather's funeral... send me back to my world! " I let all my emotions come out."Hihihi ... what an unoriginal reaction ..." the old woman said with a crazy smile on her face, both irritating and scaring me not a little, "You have no choice, you are the seventh hero of this world, and until you kill the Lord of the Plagues ... this will be your world! "I looked down again, I wanted to complain, but, what would have changed?"I, I can't be a hero, I have nothing special…" I raised my voice, then took a breath trying to calm down, "Probably ... you're wrong about me ...""Hihihi ... what humility…" She said wryly, "Khihihihi ... well, whether you want it or not, you ARE the seventh hero of this world, put your soul in peace. "I did not want to accept this, however, I realized that I could not make her change her mind in any way.'Me, a hero?' I thought ... 'the idea of ​​being some kind of hero,

'D-did I do it ?!' The sharpness of the sword shocked me.I turned towards the errant and saw a repulsive scene. I had indeed cut off the bear's head, however, not entirely, in fact, it was still attached to its body, but only for a small break of skin. The bear stood up on two legs, its head swayed during the movement until it stopped leaning against its chest.From the bear's head, precisely from the cut I had created, now came white threads that looked like alien worms. They seemed to be moving on their own. These stretched out until they reached the other part of the beast's body, lifting it slowly.I realized the wanderer was trying to reattach his head, so I sprinted at him."Oh, no!".I braced myself to hit it again with a side swipe to the neck, but the beast managed to keep me at a distance with a paw swipe to my right side.'Can you close a wound like that ?!'I had to kill it before its head was completely reattached, I knew that if the errant was back up and running at 100

He removed all of Marie's robes, even the cloth around the wound in her leg that I had put on, which made me look away from embarrassment. Then, the old man raised his walking stick and brought the metal knob towards the woman's body. Then he muttered something and the woman's body, previously dirty with mud, dust, and blood, was thoroughly cleansed. 'MAGIC!?' He too, like the old woman who had welcomed me into this world, was a magician. Well, maybe I shouldn't have reacted so surprised, after all, just before, he had opened a door out of nowhere. 'I still can't get used to the idea that magic exists in this world ...' Now that the woman was completely clean, I noticed how beautiful she was. The old man took out of the ampoule some of the healing ointment he had created and spread it over all the wounds, abounding in that on the woman's leg. "Good!" The old man said, "Now we have to let her rest for at least one night..." "Will she be cured?!" Asked the agitated innkeeper. "E

I followed Rivorio into another room in the house, small and gloomy. There was only a source of light that came from the ceiling through a circular oculus. This illuminated above all an open gilded casket, placed above a low column of white marble in the Corinthian style. "W-what is it?" I asked. The casket was not very large. This featured, on the front face, a bas-relief depicting a man plucking a heart-shaped fruit from an apple tree. "HEHe" He laughed smugly, "This is my greatest invention!" He said fiercely, "It's a magical crafting box, specializing in healing and buff potions ..." he smiled at me. Seeing me not entirely enthusiastic, he made a face and spoke again, "Tsk ... look ...". The old man turned to a shelf on his left. He picked up a glass bottle, a twig of something, and a blue leaf, and placed them inside the casket, closing it later. I watched the process and was confused by it. After all, when he told me we were going to make a potion, I imagined she was usin