A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! — Chapter 0: Prologue

Chapter 0: Prologue

The⁠⁠‌ sky was yellow.‌

No,‌‍‍ the sky was⁠ blue. But to his eyes, it‍‌ didn’t look blue‌ at all.

“It’s‌ been a while,‍ sir.”

A shadow fell over‌ him.

His‍⁠‌ whole body ached. But more than⁠‍ his body, his⁠ heart hurt.

Thud.⁠‌‍

Something fell in front of him. It⁠ was an expulsion⁠⁠ letter. Personally issued⁠ by the head⁠‌‍ of the Pellenberg‍ family.

With⁠⁠ trembling hands, he⁠‍ picked up the⁠ letter. Its contents‍ were exactly as‌⁠ the other had‌ said.

And⁠‌‌ the seal at‍‌‌ the bottom was⁠‌ unmistakably that of⁠‌ the head of the Pellenberg family.

“Why…⁠ why would Dad⁠‌ do this to‌ me…?”

“You‌⁠ crossed too many⁠⁠ lines. You became‌‍ a dog of‌‍ the demons and⁠⁠‌ aided the wicked.”⁠⁠⁠

“That’s⁠‍ slander! I never‌‍ did such a thing!”

“With⁠‍ such clear evidence,⁠‍⁠ you still call‌⁠ it slander? Stop‌ this before it‍‌ becomes even more‌ disgraceful, sir.”

Cold‌‍ blue eyes stared⁠ at him.

A chill brushed his throat. It was a sword.

“I⁠ have an agreement‌‍‌ with the head⁠‍ of House Pellenberg,‍ so I won’t‌‌ kill you. But⁠ from today on,‌‍‍ I consider you⁠‌ dead.”

However,‌⁠⁠ the other soon⁠ withdrew the sword.⁠

“Don’t⁠ ever show yourself‍ before me again,‌ or before anyone,‍ in fact. It’s‌‍‌ the last courtesy I can offer‌ you, elder.”

“Then…⁠ what about my⁠ money…?”

At⁠‌ this, the other⁠⁠ burst out laughing.‍

“Ah,⁠ sorry. I didn’t‌‌⁠ mean to mock you. Mmm… Should⁠‌ I say this‌ is so like⁠⁠‍ you to the end, or that⁠‍ your greed is‌ just too much?”‌‌

His‌ expression turned icy.‌

“Of course, you can’t‍‌ take anything earned‍ under the name⁠ of Pellenberg. It’s‍‌ ridiculous that I even have to‍‌ say it out‌ loud.”

“Th-that’s‍‌ absurd…!”

“No!⁠ Just kill me‌ instead!”

***‌⁠

Fernan⁠ woke up. He‍ calmed his ragged⁠ breathing, relieved by⁠⁠ the familiar ceiling,‍⁠‍ and took a sip of cold⁠⁠‌ water.

Running‌ a hand through‍ his irritated hair,‍ he cursed.

“…Damn⁠⁠ it.”

That⁠‌⁠ dream again.

Could‌ it really just‌ be called a dream?

It⁠ was the future.⁠

A prophetic power he‍ had acquired by‌‍ chance.

“Normally, a prophecy would be an incredible⁠⁠ blessing for a merchant like me…”‍‍⁠

But‍⁠⁠ for Fernan, it‌ wasn’t. Because the‌‍ future it showed‍ was his downfall—a‍‍ future where he‍ would be expelled‌⁠ from his family‍‍ and lose all‌ his wealth.

“Do‌‍ they think I’m‍ going to let⁠‍ that happen? No‍ way! Not a chance!”

As‌⁠ Fernan made his⁠ vow with bloodshot⁠ eyes, he sensed movement outside.

Knock,‍ knock.

“Young⁠ Master, are you‍ awake?”

“…Just‍⁠ a moment.”

Once⁠ he had straightened his rumpled clothes‍‍ and face, the⁠‍‌ attendant came in.‍

“When⁠ did you wake‍⁠‍ up?”

“Not‌ long ago.”

“Would‌⁠⁠ you like to‍‌ eat first?”

“Something‌ simple. I don’t⁠ have much of‍ an appetite.”

“Yes,⁠ sir.”

Shortly⁠‍ after, they brought‌ him some plain bread and soup.‌ After finishing his meal, Fernan checked⁠ the time and⁠ headed to the⁠ meeting room.

“The⁠⁠ branch manager is entering.”

“Welcome,‌ Branch Manager.”

When⁠ he walked in,‌⁠ everyone in the‌ room stood up.⁠⁠

Fernan‌ casually returned their‌ greetings and sat⁠ at the head‌ of the table.‌⁠

“Let’s‍‌ begin the meeting.”⁠‌

He⁠‌ spread out the⁠⁠‍ reports in front⁠‌‌ of him.

“Yes,⁠ we will now‍⁠ begin the regular meeting of February⁠ 11.”

“I⁠‌ will begin the⁠⁠‌ report. Yesterday, February⁠ 10, the entrance‍ exams for prospective‌ new students were⁠‍ held.”

Throughout‌ the exam day,⁠‌ not only students⁠‌ and their parents⁠⁠ but also their‌ companions and servants⁠⁠ used the merchants’‌‌ guild shops. Sales‍ increased significantly.

Professor⁠‌ Alton from the‌ Alchemy Department requested‍‍⁠ certain magical reagents.‌ The specific reagents‌‌⁠ were…

In‌⁠ addition, Professor Vendal⁠ requested mana stones⁠ to create golem⁠‌ cores. The reports‍⁠‍ went on one‌⁠ after another, but⁠ none of it⁠‌‍ registered in Fernan’s⁠ mind.

It‌‍ was always like‌‍ this on the‍‍ days he had‍‌⁠ that dream. His‍‍⁠ mind went blank, and he couldn’t⁠ concentrate.

In‌‍⁠ a way, it was natural.

It‍‍‍ was a prophecy‌ of the worst possible future, approaching in real time;⁠⁠ no sane person‍‍ could stay unaffected‍ after seeing something‌ like that.

“That’s⁠⁠ enough. Let’s end‍‌ the morning meeting‌‍ here. We’ll take⁠‌‌ care of the‌ rest tomorrow.”

“Yes,‍⁠ understood.”

“Yes,⁠‌ sir!”

Fernan‍ left the meeting⁠ room and headed to the terrace‌‌ outside his office.⁠‍

He‍ let out a deep sigh as‍ he sipped some coffee.

“Is⁠ something bothering you?”‌

“Something?‌‍‌ No, nothing.”

There‍‌ was, but he‌ couldn’t talk about‍‍ that dream with‍‍ anyone.

“You‌‍‌ seem more preoccupied⁠‌ with scattered thoughts lately.”

“Do⁠ I? Since when?”

“About‍ half a year‌ ago?”

“Well,⁠ that’s not exactly‍ recent.”

But⁠ the timing was‌ spot on.

“Are‍ you still feeling⁠ the aftereffects of‍‍ that day?”

“No.”⁠

But⁠‌ it’s strange. Since‍‌ then, you’ve often‌ seemed distracted and made puzzling decisions.‍‌

Of‍ course, those decisions⁠‍ ended up being‍ beneficial. By staying‌ ahead of events,⁠‍ Fernan significantly increased‌‍ the merchant guild’s‍ profits.

“In‌ the end, they‌ were the right⁠ decisions.”

But⁠‍ they didn’t follow‍ your usual approach.‍ You always prioritized‍ thorough research and‌ verification. Suddenly, you‍⁠ started acting like⁠⁠ you were possessed‌‌‌ by some god.‌

From‌‍‍ the outside, I suppose that’s how⁠ it seemed. But‍ at that moment,⁠ there was no‍⁠ other choice.

“Do⁠ you have another‍ source of information?”‌⁠

“And‍ if I told‍‌ you I did,‌ would you believe⁠‌ me?”

“Yes,‍‍ I would. A source of information‌ more valuable than‌‌‍ any other that could be obtained‍ anywhere.”

Fernan remembered what happened⁠⁠ back then.

***‌‍⁠

It⁠ had been a normal day. None‍⁠ of the proposals‌ convinced him. None‍ seemed even remotely effective.

A typical morning meeting.⁠ A day like‍ any other when‍ he scolded those⁠ who didn’t meet‌‍ his expectations.

They‍ say misfortune and fortune always strike⁠‍‌ without warning. That‍⁠ day was exactly‍ that kind of‍⁠ day for Fernan—a day when misfortune‌ hit for no‌‍ apparent reason.

“Even‌‌ so, things have‍‌ gotten much better,‍‍ haven’t they?”

They’re⁠⁠ much better than‍ at the beginning,⁠ sure. But even so—

───!

Without⁠‌ warning or sign,⁠‍‍ Fernan’s world was‌‍ suddenly engulfed in‌ white.

Rumble!‌‍

A moment later, a thunderous roar split the sky.

“Gaaaahhh!”‍‍

He‌ realized too late‌ that it had⁠⁠ been lightning, but‍ the impact was⁠‌ so intense it‌‌ knocked the breath⁠⁠ out of him,⁠ leaving him stunned⁠ and disoriented.

In‍ that moment of weakness, something forced⁠‍ its way in.⁠

— W-what is this?‍

A soul.

Possession? It began spewing‌ incomprehensible words and‌ tearing Fernan’s mind‍ apart.

‘What⁠ the hell are‌‌‌ you…?!’

It⁠‍‌ was painful, overwhelming,‍ but Fernan instinctively‍‍ gathered the mana‍ in his heart.⁠‌

He‍‍ could feel it—the⁠‌‌ intruder was trying‍⁠ to take over‍ his body.

Even‌‍ the weak traces‍‍ of mana he‍⁠ had left began⁠‍ attacking the invader.‍⁠‍

— What—?!

Gurgle.‌‌‌

As‌ mana pierced his‍ insides, blood and‌ white foam spilled⁠‍ from Fernan’s mouth,‍⁠ and tears of⁠⁠‌ blood streamed from‍ his bloodshot eyes.⁠‌⁠

But‍‍‌ the invader didn’t‍ escape unscathed.

— Aagh! It hurts!⁠ Let go of‍‍ me!

Unlike⁠‌ its dramatic entrance,⁠‍‌ the soul was‌ pathetically torn into‌ dozens of fragments.‌‌

Some‍⁠ fled. Others were‌⁠ absorbed by Fernan.‍⁠

“What…‌⁠ the hell is‌ this…?”

And⁠⁠ at that moment,‍‌ unknown memories flooded‌ Fernan’s mind.

A massive torrent of‍⁠ knowledge, too vast for him to handle.

Most⁠‍ of it passed by, like acquaintances‌‌ you greet in‍‌ passing and then⁠‍ forget.

As⁠ if they had⁠ sunk deep into⁠‍ his subconscious, waiting‍‍‍ for the day⁠ they’d resurface.

Maybe that’s why only⁠⁠ a few memories‍⁠ remained, like fragments of a forgotten‌ dream.

“…The⁠ demons… are moving⁠ again?”

But‍ above all, one⁠‌ thing remained vividly‍ clear. It was⁠‍ a prophecy of‍ the grim end‍ of this world.‍

Am⁠ I going to‍⁠ lose all my‍‍ money and end‍ up a beggar?⁠‍ What the hell…?!‍

A vision of a future worse than‌‍‍ death itself.

That‌⁠ was where Fernan’s‌ memory of that‌ day ended. After⁠ waking from a three-day coma, he‍⁠‍ began using seemingly⁠‌‍ minor pieces of‍⁠ information (details that‍ turned out to‌ be incredibly useful⁠ for the merchant‍ guild) to grow⁠ his market share.⁠

“They say fortune and‌⁠‍ misfortune go hand‌ in hand.”

The⁠‌ fortune of knowing‍ the future and‍‌ the misfortune of‌⁠⁠ that future being near-certain ruin.

That’s‌ what suddenly visited⁠⁠ Fernan on that‌ fateful day.