The classroom buzzed with chatter—then suddenly, the bell rang.
**Ring ring ring**
"That's it for today, class. Don't forget, next Monday is your final exam for Anatomy," the professor called out as students started packing up.
A massive groan echoed through the classroom.
"Hey, hey! Are you free this weekend? Let's study together," said one of the energetic students.
"Yeah, let's study together like last time—we actually scored high on the test," I replied, barely able to keep my eyes open.
*Sigh.*
I collapsed back into my chair, eyes half-shut from back-to-back rotations at the hospital. Medical school was no joke. Endless studying, endless rounds, and somehow… I still felt unprepared.
Just one more week. One more week and I'd be free from this cursed life, I told myself.
As I stepped outside—*sigh*—it was raining again.
Phew. At least I had my umbrella. One small victory. But sleep? A real meal? Forget it. Just cheap ramen and overworked nerves.
I looked down at my phone, distracted—and that's when I heard it. Walking into the dawn-lit crosswalk, I didn't notice the out-of-control delivery truck barreling toward me—until it was too late.
**HOOOOONK**
Headlights. Screeching tires. A flash of white.
**Boom.**
But instead of pain or panic, I felt... warmth? A soft morning glow surrounded me, and a gentle voice.
"What's wrong, boy? You've been just staring at Bell absentmindedly. Is something bothering you?"
My eyes fluttered open to find myself staring into a pair of bright red eyes. Wide, curious. White hair. A young boy—no, a child, maybe five or six years old. But something was wrong… somehow, my vision was level with that red-eyed boy—as if I were a child too. No, that's impossible. I must be kneeling to talk to him, right?
Just to make sure, I looked down at my knees… but I didn't see knees. I was standing. Still on my two feet.
I glanced to the side. An old man in farmer's clothes stood nearby.
Wait a minute… looking closer, that red-eyed, white-haired boy looked familiar. And did that old man just say "Bell"? Then suddenly, pain struck my head—a rush of memories hitting all at once. Memories of being Bell Cranel's twin brother. I blacked out. The last thing I saw were the young boy and the old man running toward me in panic.
Then, like flickering lights in the void, the memories began again. I was lying in a bed, beside a white-haired, red-eyed boy—my twin. Bell. An old man was reading us stories about heroes and fairy tales. In the next second, that same old man—our grandpa—declared with dramatic flair, *"Peeping is a man's romance!"* Bell and I were about three back then, not knowing what it meant. We tilted our heads in confusion.
"What's peeping?" I asked.
"And what's a man's romance?" asked Bell.
Grandpa just nodded sagely, giving us the impression that he was deeply knowledgeable and reliable… only to be chased and beaten by angry women moments later.
So many memories followed. Warmth. Laughter. Bell's hand in mine as we walked together at sunset. Grandpa Zeus's terrible advice and loud, loving laugh. I went through nearly all of Eirion Cranel's memories. But then, I saw a white-haired, blue-eyed child in front of me. The real Eirion Cranel.
Looking at him made me wonder—am I Eirion Cranel? Or did I just steal his body?
But that boy just stood there silently, staring at me. And then it hit me.
I was both my past life and this one. I hadn't transmigrated. I hadn't stolen Eirion Cranel's life or body. My soul was still mine. My memories were still mine.
But now, I am Eirion Cranel—twin brother of Bell Cranel.
Suddenly, a soft morning glow surrounded me again. I awoke to see a young boy—my twin brother Bell—resting his head on the bed.
"Hey, Eirion. You're finally awake," said Grandpa.
I blinked a few times. The weight of two lives pressed against my chest.
I just nodded.
A few weeks later, after spending more time with Grandpa and Bell, I felt at peace. This life… was so much more relaxing compared to my last, which had been burdened with endless stress.
The warm glow from the flickering fire kept us safe and cozy in our small wooden cabin in the countryside. Grandpa—or the god, Zeus—was already passed out in his rocking chair, snoring like a hibernating bear.
Bell sat beside me, humming softly while flipping through one of Grandpa's old storybooks. His red eyes sparkled with wonder, just like they always did whenever the word *hero* appeared.
I watched him quietly, a small smile on my face.
Bell Cranel—the rabbit adventurer. The one who would one day charge through dungeons, face minotaurs, gods, and monsters. The one who would defy all odds… because of *her.*
Ais Wallenstein.
Their encounter in Orario would change everything. She would save him from a minotaur, and that single moment—of awe, of humiliation, of desperate hope—would awaken his skill: *Liaris Freese*. The ability to grow stronger at an absurd pace, fueled by his feelings for her.
I clenched my hands in my lap. I knew how this story went… and I wasn't supposed to be in it. In the original world, there was no Eirion Cranel. Just Bell. Just his lonely journey. Just his desperate dreams.
And yet, here I was—his twin. A ripple in the story.
Should I tell him?
No. Tell him that I remember another life? Knowing him, he *would* believe me—and there's no point in giving him an existential crisis over whether he's a fictional character or a real person. Should I tell him I know things no child should know? That the world we live in… was fiction to me?
Bell looked up and smiled. "Hey, Eirion, wanna read the next story with me?"
I nodded slowly.
"Yeah… I'd like that."
Because maybe, for now, the best thing I could do wasn't to change the story… but to be in it. With him. To walk beside him. To grow beside him. Not behind him. Not as his shadow.
But as his equal.
"Eirion?" Bell said, voice soft.
"Yeah?"
"Do you… ever think about going to Orario?"
I turned slightly, watching his expression. His red eyes were distant. Thoughtful. A little scared.
"All the time," I said truthfully.
Bell's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Of course. That's where adventurers go. That's where the gods are. That's where the dungeon is." I paused. "That's where people become heroes."
He nodded slowly, voice quieter now.
"I wanna go… I wanna be like the heroes in Grandpa's stories. I want to protect people. Make them proud."
He glanced at me, fidgeting.
"Do you… wanna be a hero too?"
I looked up at the stars, choosing my words carefully.
"I want to walk my own path. I don't know if I'll be a hero, but I want to get stronger. I want to become a battlemage. Not just for me… but for you too."
Bell blinked. "For me?"
"You always dream big," I said with a smile. "I just want to make sure you don't fall alone."
He looked away, biting his lip—then smiled softly.
"Then let's go together," he said.
"To Orario?"
"To Orario," he confirmed, holding out his pinky.
I stared at it, a small grin pulling at my lips, then hooked my pinky with his.
"Deal."
But there's someone else I trust—someone I can tell about my reincarnation. Grandpa Zeus.
There are a few reasons I want to share the truth about who I am and what I know of the future.
Not only can he help me create a strategy and train me in dungeon survival, magic, and learn about everything else in this world...
I know that both from my past life and this life the Zeus is truth worth person to know about my secret.
The stars blinked lazily across the night sky, their silver light spilling through the window. Bell had long since fallen asleep beside me, curled up with a blanket half-draped over his head like a hooded rabbit.
I, however, was wide awake.
My heart thudded in my chest as I tiptoed out of the bedroom and stepped onto the porch.
Grandpa Zeus was still up—rocking slowly in his old wooden chair, staring up at the moon like it was an old friend.
"You couldn't sleep either, huh?" he asked without turning his head.
I didn't answer right away. I stood there for a moment, letting the cool night air settle the chaos in my mind.
Then I sat down beside him.
"Grandpa…" I began slowly. "I know who you really are."
He chuckled softly. "Oh? Do you now? Enlighten this wrinkled old man."
"You're not just some eccentric farmer who tells us bedtime stories about gods and heroes," I said, looking him straight in the eye. "You're Zeus God of the sky and lightning."
For the first time I'd ever seen, Grandpa Zeus went still. The chair stopped rocking. His gaze shifted from the stars to me—serious now, sharp, calculating, like he was trying to figure out if this was a trap.
"…Well, well. That funny joke Eirion I can this old man be a god."
"That's not something a six-year-old should know," he said quietly. "Where did you hear that name?"
I took a deep breath.
"I didn't hear it," I said. "I remembered it."
And then, I told him everything. About my past life. About the world I came from—a world where this one was just an anime, a story called Danmachi.
I told him how Bell was the main character. How he'd one day be saved by Ais Wallenstein and awaken a skill called Liaris Freese—a broken ability that would let him level up faster than anyone in history, just so he could catch up to the girl he loved.
Then I told him more. About my aunt Alfia and Zald. About how they'd gone to Orario, and how their deaths brought ruin—plunging the world into a dark age. About how the Astrea Familia, one of the last lights of that era, would be massacred by a monster called the Juggernaut.
And finally, I told him that I wasn't supposed to exist in that story.
"I was a medical student. A healer in term of this world," I said, voice trembling. "I died… and I woke up here. As Eirion Cranel. Bell's twin. And I remember everything."
Zeus was silent for a long while. No laughter. No teasing.
Then finally, he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his belly.
He started to chuckle. "As expected of my grandson, picking up girls left and right in the dungeon," he said at last.
My eye twitched.
Sigh.
This old pervert.
"Fate's a funny thing."
"So you believe me, Grandpa?" I asked cautiously.
"I'm a god, boy. I can tell if someone's lying. Besides, I've seen stranger things than reincarnation. Even if you're from another world, no matter who and how old you were in your past you're still a children to us gods." He paused for a few seconds, then gave me a head pat. "Remember this that now you're Eirion Cranel, don't deny the past but move on you were given this second chance. So no need to worry about your past life you should enjoy your new life."
As I thought—he didn't care that I was a reincarnated person with memories. And I was right to trust him.
"Then can I ask… why did you tell me? Why now?" He looked at me with curiosity.
"To be honest… I want to become stronger. To help Bell. And the people I'll meet in the future. I want to save the Astrea Familia from getting massacred by the Juggernaut. I want to get a cute girlfriend. I want to keep up with Bell—not hold him back. I want to stand beside him as his brother. I know that unlike Bell, I don't have a cheat skill. So I'm wondering... can you help me learn about the dungeon? Train me? I want to become a battlemage and learn everything I can about this world."
Zeus raised an eyebrow. "Battlemage? That's quite the goal."
"Well…" I fidgeted with my fingers in embarrassment. "There's this Elven girl named—Ryu Lion. I admire her. She can use magic. She can wield a sword. She can even heal. She almost perfect adventurers someone who I want be like."
Zeus smiled, but there was no mockery in it.
"Then you better train harder than any hero ever has, Eirion Cranel. Because fate doesn't like being rewritten. And you, my boy… you're already changing the story. I'm sure you'll save your elf girlfriend and her friends. Heh… maybe even add them to your harem."
"WHAT!? She's not my girlfriend! She's just someone I admire!" I protested, blushing furiously.
The Next Day
The sun had barely risen when Zeus dragged me out of bed.
"Up, up! Heroes don't sleep in, boy!" he whispered loudly, trying not to wake Bell.
"I'm six, and I'm not a hero," I groaned, barely able to keep my eyes open.
"No excuses! Did someone not just say they wanted to be strong to pick up girls in the Dungeon?"
"What? I never said that!" I protested, but Grandpa just ignored me.
So, in the stillness of dawn, while mist still clung to the hills, my training began.
"If I remember right," Zeus muttered, "you wanted to learn swordsmanship. So—what kind of sword are you picking?"
I blinked sleepily. "A rapier… or maybe a saber."
He nodded, and we got to work.
At first, it was just simple exercises—basics. Stances. Footwork. How to hold a wooden sword without it flying out of my tiny hands. Zeus was surprisingly strict—no lecherous old man jokes, no stories. Just silence, repetition, correction.
"Balance is everything," he barked, tapping my knees with his cane. "A swordsman with poor footing is just a corpse with a blade."
Sweat poured down my face. My arms trembled after minutes of practice. I wasn't built for this. I studied medicine in my past life—I learned how to heal a body, not destroy one. But still, I kept swinging until my hands ached and the sun was high.
Sigh.
"All right, that's enough for today. Let's go back in and begin your magic lessons," said Grandpa.
"Tell me now, Eirion—how much do you know about magic? What are the two types of magic, and how can one manifest it?"
I thought for a moment. "There's the concept of the mind—or mind zero if it gets too low. Hmm… two types of magic: congenital and acquired. Congenital is based on one's ability and race. This type of magic can manifest through hard work, long chants, and has a high risk of Ignis Fatuus. It's generally weaker than acquired magic.
Acquired magic is based on the falna given by the gods and goddesses. It's much stronger and safer to use. It can be gained either naturally or forcibly through a grimoire. The power of magic is usually linked to the length of its chant—though congenital factors also influence it. But there are exceptions, like my aunt Alfia or Ais, whose magic chants are just a single word.
There are techniques too—like concurrent chanting, where you fight while casting. And some mages, like Princess Riveria, can use a technique called chant connection to bypass the usual three-magic limit."
I looked at Grandpa. "That's all I know about magic in this world. Did I miss anything?"
"Not bad. You know more than most brats your age. But knowledge and experience are two different things. Let's figure out what kind of magic you have."
"Then how do we find out what my magic is?" I asked curiously.
"Lineage and life experience influence natural affinity, but there's a way to draw it out." He handed me a vial filled with a cloudy liquid. "Drink this. Then meditate."
Without hesitation, I swallowed the potion. It tasted like old herbs soaked in melted snow—bitter and cold. The moment it hit my stomach, a strange sensation bloomed through my veins—like my blood had been swapped with icy water and starlight.
"Now, sit," Zeus said. I sat cross-legged in the soft grass of the training grove, the morning sun cutting golden lines through the leaves. My eyes fluttered shut.
"Breathe in… and out," Zeus instructed. "Don't think. Just feel. Let your soul speak."
At first, I felt nothing. Just the wind. The birds. The ache in my arms from training.
Then it hit me.
Suddenly, in my mind's eye, three figures appeared—each one was me, each showing me something vital. The first formed a snowflake from thin air, shaping it as he pleased. The second bent space itself, linking two points through a shimmering portal. The third knelt beside a wounded creature, radiating warmth and light as it healed.
I opened my eyes, gasping for air. Zeus was already kneeling beside me, asking if I was all right.
I nodded, still gasping. "Ice, space, and healing. I saw them. Felt them. Clear as day."
"WHAT?!" Zeus blinked. "All three? You're definitely Alfia's blood. Her magical talent runs strong in you."
Zeus explained that there are only three magic slots, and each one is progressively harder to fill. It's a common problem among high-level mages, especially sorcerers. Most have powerful "seeds" within them, and whether they acquired magic naturally or through a grimoire, the third slot is usually the hardest. If I were to get my falna now, all my magic slots would be filled.
"Now, mind telling me about your magic?" asked Grandpa.
My ice magic is called Glacies Spina.
My space magic is called Aetheris Rift.
My healing magic is called Sanctum Lumen.
I started explaining my magic to Grandpa. He mostly focused on how each could be used.
"Hmmm. For space magic, you can use it both as storage and transportation. Ice magic works for both offense and defense. And there's no need to explain the use of healing magic."
He looked at me and nodded. "So, what are the chants for your spells?"
Glacies Spina: "Pierce with winter's fang—Glacies Spina!"
Aetheris Rift: "Rift."
Sanctum Lumen:
"O Radiant One, whose crown shines beyond the firmament,
Keeper of the flame that warms without burning,
I call upon thee—voice of dawn, hands of mercy,
Shelter this soul beneath thy unshattered light.
When the stars fall and the earth weeps,
When all that is pure is silenced by steel,
Let thy grace pour forth upon the broken.
Let thy name be sung in the stillness of despair.
He who walks through shadows shall not fall,
She who bleeds shall not be lost,
For thy light burns eternal in the cradle of hope.
Return breath to the dying.
Stitch the flesh, mend the spirit, and banish the curse—Sanctum Lumen!"
I told him both my ice and space magic have super short chants, while my healing magic has an extremely long one.
"Pierce with winter's fang—Glacies Spina!" I chanted, forming small ice crystals while focusing my mind to avoid any weird reactions.
"Hm. Amazing, Eirion. It seems your talent is just like your aunt's. No wonder you're related to her—you managed to use magic on your first try."
Weeks passed as I trained under Grandpa Zeus. One thing became clear: while he was usually a lecherous old man—always peeking at women and cracking crude jokes—during training, he turned into a completely different person. He was strict, focused, and relentless in pushing me past my limits.
I began to notice things about myself. I had a natural talent for magic. Practical spells came easily; I could cast without worrying about Ignis Fatuus most of the time. In fact, I only experienced it twice, both while using Aetheris Rift. Despite its short chant, it has a massive mind cost and is incredibly complex to control.
On the other hand, swordsmanship didn't come as naturally. I could handle the basics, but I struggled beyond that. I realized I'd need serious effort to improve. That stung. I wanted to be a proper battlemage—not just a mage swinging a sword for looks. But even so, I'm not the type to give up.
That night, I collapsed into bed, sore but proud. Bell was already asleep… or so I thought.
"Eirion," he whispered. "Where do you go every morning?"
I froze.
He wasn't asleep.
"I… just walk around. Helps me wake up."
A pause.
"I saw you swing a sword yesterday," he said quietly. "And today, there was light. Magic light. You're training, aren't you?"
I turned toward him in the dark. "I just… want to get stronger."
Another silence. Then:
"Next time… can I come too?"
I stared at the ceiling, heart thudding.
"…Maybe."
The next morning, I woke to rustling beside me.
Bell was fumbling with his boots, still half-asleep but determined. "I want to come too," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I want to train."
I blinked. "You sure?"
He nodded, shaky but firm. "If you're getting stronger, I should too. We're twins, right?"
Zeus laughed from the doorway. "Finally grew a spine, have you? Good. Get moving, Bell. Heroes don't wait for invitations."
We made our way to the grove where I usually trained alone. The grass was wet with morning dew, and the mist clung to the trees like a secret. Zeus tossed Bell two wooden daggers. He barely caught one; the other fell into the grass with a dull thud.
Bell flushed. "Oops."
I glanced at Grandpa, expecting a joke. But Zeus didn't laugh. His voice was firm. "Pick it up. Again."
Bell bent down, grabbed the dagger, and reset his stance. It was awkward—his legs too stiff, grip too tight—but his eyes were serious.
"Okay," Zeus said. "Let's begin with movement."
The first thirty minutes were rough.
Bell tripped over his feet. Swung too wide. Forgot to breathe. I saw frustration building, but not once did he ask to stop.
"You're not good at this," Zeus said bluntly, "but you've got spirit. Keep that. Everything else can be taught."
Bell grinned, panting. "I don't care if I suck right now. I just want to get better."
That's Bell for you. No natural talent, maybe—but heart? More than anyone.
After a break, Zeus brought out a training dummy.
Bell charged in, daggers flailing. It was clumsy. Wild. He nearly dropped one again. But even as Zeus corrected him or barked orders, Bell never lost that fire in his eyes.
"Again!"
"Again!"
"AGAIN!"
Bell stumbled. Fell. Got back up.
Something swelled in my chest. Not pity. Not worry.
Admiration.
As I thought—Bell is a fast learner. He may not be as naturally gifted as me, but his learning speed is amazing. It's just a pity that without his skill Liaris Freese, he's not putting that growth to full use. I remember in the anime, even Ais praised his learning rate and how quickly he could apply what he learned.
During training, we found out that Bell doesn't have congenital magic like me. But I know he can forcibly acquire magic through a grimoire.
A whole year passed.
"You want to improve right?" Zeus said, standing at the edge of the overgrown cave entrance. "Then prove it. by Come out alive."
Before either of us could protest, he shoved us forward.
I stumbled, nearly falling face-first into the damp cavern floor. Bell grabbed my arm to steady me—but we were already inside. Behind us, the cave mouth sealed with a dull thud of rock sliding into place.
"He's insane," I whispered.
Bell's voice trembled slightly. "Was that… was that a goblin nest!?"
Screeches echoed in the distance.
"Yes," I muttered, drawing my wooden sword.
Bell unsheathed his practice daggers. "This isn't fair. you can use both magic and swords. I'm not ready for this
I glanced at him. His hands were shaking, but he stood his ground.
"Then we survive together," I said. "Back-to-back."
The screeching got louder—closer.
First came the smell: mold, rot, and blood.
Then came the goblins—at least six of them, scuttling from the shadows with crude knives and hungry eyes.
I raised my hand, heart pounding.
"Pierce with winter's fang—Glacies Spina!"
A line of icy thorns erupted from the ground, skewering the first goblin through the chest. It writhed, then fell limp. But the others didn't stop. Two more rushed me—fast.
I blocked the first with my sword. The blow rattled up my arms, nearly making me drop it. The second goblin dove in low, slashing at my leg.
"Damn—!"
A flash of white moved past me.
Bell.
He darted in like lightning, jabbing one goblin in the side. It shrieked, clawing at him. He ducked under its swipe, rolled, and stabbed upward—right into its neck.
Blood sprayed. Bell blinked, shocked—but he didn't freeze.
"I got one!" he shouted, wild grin on his face.
I barely had time to respond before another goblin jumped me from the side.
I threw up my arm—too slow.
Claws tore across my shoulder.
"Rift!" I shouted, instinct taking over.
Space shimmered. The goblin vanished—sucked into a rift that opened and closed in less than a second. I collapsed to one knee, gasping. My vision blurred from the mind cost.
"Eirion!"
Bell was back at my side in an instant, daggers up, covering me as two more goblins circled.
"I'll handle them—catch your breath!"
The first one lunged. Bell sidestepped, nicking its leg. The second swung wildly; Bell ducked under it and slashed across its chest in one smooth, desperate move.
I was forced take a mind potion.
"O Radiant One, whose crown shines beyo no… too long," I panted. "Can't chant Sanctum Lumen in time to heal us both."
I gritted my teeth and raised my sword instead, even though my arms ached and my shoulder throbbed. One goblin left.
We charged it together—Bell low, me high.
He slashed its legs. I brought the sword down, slower than I wanted—but hard enough.
It crumpled.
Silence.
Heavy breathing. My blood pounding in my ears.
Bell leaned against the cave wall, soaked in sweat, panting like a dying animal. "We lived. We actually lived."
I gave a shaky laugh. "Barely."
The cave wall slid open.
Zeus stood there, grinning like he'd just watched a comedy show. "Not bad," he said. "A bit messy. But not bad."
"You could've killed us!" Bell yelled, voice cracking.
"Could've. Didn't," Zeus replied, waving us out. "Lesson one: fear keeps you sharp. Lesson two: teamwork keeps you alive. Lesson three—" He winked. "Real monsters don't wait for permission."
Bell and I looked at each other.
We didn't feel stronger.
But we felt like survivors.
And that was enough for today.
"grampa I want learn concurrent chanting" I said in resolute tone.
AUTHOR NOTE:
Hey, guy this is first time write a fanfic If any of you guy have idea help improve my writing feel free to comment. Also what do you think about current plot If you are wonder I plan making the mc go to Orario few months before the massacre of astrea familia and I am sure the everyone know that the mc admire Ryu lion a lot. So five year before main timeline. I plan on MC join the loki familia. And yes the main love interest is Lefiya Viridis. My question is should they join familia then or wait for few more year it the main timeline and join familia?