The village square was unrecognizable.
Colorful banners hung between buildings, swaying in the breeze. Stalls lined every available space—food vendors, game booths, craftsmen selling wares. The smell of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air.
People were everywhere. Way more than Rye had ever seen in the village.
"Where did all these people even come from?"
"Travelers," Dad said, noticing Rye's expression. "Merchants, adventurers, people from neighboring villages. Harvest Festival brings everyone out."
Mari grabbed Rye's hand before he could get lost in the crowd. "Stay close. Mom will kill me if I lose you."
These past few weeks, he'd gotten a lot closer with Mari. Helping her with chores, learning mana, and playing with the kids she had befriended. Rye was on the sidelines for most of the time when they played – but he was there for moral support. He just trained drawings either way. Sketching Mari and the kids.
Dad laughed and ruffled Rye's hair. "Come on. Let's find a good spot for the demonstrations."
"Alright."
They pushed through the crowd toward the center of the square, where a large wooden platform had been set up. People were already gathering around it, chattering excitedly.
A man in official-looking robes stood on the platform, holding up his hands for quiet. "Welcome, everyone, to the Harvest Festival!"
Cheers erupted.
"Today we celebrate our hard work, our community, and of course—our pathway users!" More cheers. "We'll begin with demonstrations, followed by the competition. First prize: ten thousand crowns!"
The crowd went wild.
Rye blinked on the sidelines. Too many people to handle… he was a shut-in, for fuck's sake. Even if he got here two weeks ago and learned to communicate, the past still haunted him.
'I'd prefer to be home.'
Eirin suddenly appeared beside him, grinning. "There you are! I saved you a spot up front!"
"I can see fine from here." A sweat dropped down. No way he'd sit that close to the front.
"Nope. You're participating, remember? You need to see the competition." Eirin grabbed his other hand and dragged him forward.
Mari shot Rye a look that said 'good luck with that.'
They squeezed through to the front row. Tomas was there too, arms crossed, watching the platform. He nodded to the two and kept on watching.
"First up," the announcer called, "we have Gerald with the Fire Pathway!"
A middle-aged man climbed onto the platform. He held up his hands, and flames erupted from his palms. The crowd oohed.
He juggled the fireballs, tossing them higher and higher, then combined them into a massive fireball that he launched into the sky. It exploded like a firework.
Everyone clapped.
'Okay, that was actually cool.'
"Next, we have Helena with the Water Pathway!"
A woman stepped up. She pulled water from a nearby bucket, shaping it into a dragon that coiled through the air. It moved fluidly, almost alive, before she froze it solid mid-flight. The ice dragon hovered for a moment, then shattered into sparkling snow.
More applause.
"And now, Marcus with the Metal Pathway!"
A burly man took the stage. He manifested a sword from thin air—not Steel like Mari's, but raw iron. He shaped it while people watched, bending and twisting the metal like clay. Within seconds, he'd created an intricate statue of a bird.
"Show-off," Mari muttered.
Dad grinned. "You could do better."
"Obviously."
The demonstrations continued. A Plant Pathway user grew a tree in seconds. A Lightning user created a light show. A Gravity user made objects float.
Each one was impressive. Each one made Rye more nervous.
'I can't compete with this. They've been training for years. I've been doing this for like two weeks.'
Eirin nudged him. "You're up soon."
"I changed my mind."
"Too late. I already signed you up."
"You WHAT?!"
"Relax. You'll be great." Eirin smiled. "Just show them what you showed me. The drawings, the ink, that cool sword thing—"
"That fell apart in two seconds."
"They don't know that."
Before Rye could argue further, the announcer called out: "Next, we have a special entry! Rye Scarrow with the Creation Pathway!"
'Oh no.'
To be fair, he told Eirin the pathway was called "Creation" instead of Artist so he wouldn't die. They technically didn't discover it. But still—too close of a name!
The crowd murmured. "Creation Pathway?" "I've never heard of that one." " Is it rare?"
Rye's legs felt like lead. Eirin pushed him toward the platform. This damn kid… she may have given him ink and practiced drawing—but this was unacceptable. Social-anxiety inducing.
"Go! You got this!" Eirin smiled like this wasn't torture.
Rye climbed the steps slowly, heart pounding. The crowd stared at him—hundreds of eyes, all watching, all waiting.
His hands were shaking.
'Arghh! '
Then he spotted his family in the crowd. Mom, smiling encouragingly. Dad, giving him a thumbs up. Mari, surprisingly, smiling as well.
And Eirin, practically vibrating with excitement.
'Okay. Just... don't embarrass yourself.'
The announcer handed him a piece of chalk. "The stage is yours."
Rye knelt down and started drawing on the wooden platform. A simple design—a circle with gears inside.
Multi-layer manifestation.
A skill he leveled up at level 25, which he practiced with father once he revealed his 'Creation' pathway. A skill that lets him connect multiple drawing parts together of different materials, and have a lot more dimensions in the manifestation.
He poured mana into it.
The drawing glowed bright orange. The crowd gasped.
BOOM.
A wooden gear system rose from the platform—three interlocking gears that actually turned. They clicked together smoothly, rotating in perfect sync. Something Rye thought of to maybe… make cars in the future and get rich.
The crowd went silent.
Then someone started clapping. Then another. Then everyone.
Rye stood up. "I can do more."
"Please do!" the announcer said, clearly impressed.
Rye drew faster this time. A platform with wheels—something three-dimensional.
A small, book-sized, wooden cart materialized. Functional and mobile with working spheres as wheels. Though, they were all wood.
More applause.
Emboldened, Rye drew one more thing. A complex design—a bird with articulated wings. He wasn't sure it would even work.
He pushed mana into it.
The bird manifested. Its wings spread. And then—
It fell down. Wait – "Life Creation" was locked at level 100. There was no way he could've bringed life to that bird.
But at least he made something that resembled a bird. His eyes widened ,, throat clutching up. Hell nahh, he'd lost completely…
But the crowd erupted.
Rye stood, stunned.
[LEVELED UP! 27 → 28 → 29]
The announcer was grinning. "Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have our winner!"
The rest of the demonstrations were a blur. A few more people went up, but Rye had clearly stolen the show.
When the judges announced the results, Rye won first place by a small lead. A 4-point vote difference between him and the water-woman who made an ice dragon. To be fair he prefered her tricks and the fire guy's, but he won the money.
Rye couldn't complain.
Ten thousand crowns. It was valued at about 10,000 pesos (1 crown -> 1 peso) in his old hometown. He calculated this based on Tomas' work while he helped out in selling stuff.
He stared at the pouch of coins in his hands.
"You did it!" Eirin crashed into him with a hug. "That was amazing!"
"I told you you'd win!"
Dad appeared, clapping Rye on the shoulder. "Proud of you, son. That was incredible."
Mari smirked. "Not bad. For a beginner."
"Thanks. I think.'
Tomas walked over, grinning. "Creation Pathway, huh? No wonder you've been so useful at the stall. You've been holding out on me, kid."
Rye laughed. "I wasn't trying to hide it."
"Relax. I'm not mad. Actually, I'm impressed." Tomas pulled out a small pouch. "Here. Consider your debt paid in full. Plus a bonus for the entertainment."
Rye's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Really. Now go enjoy the festival. You earned it."
The feast started as the sun began to set.
Long tables were set up in the square, piled high with food. Roasted meats, fresh bread, vegetables, fruits, desserts—everything.
Rye's family claimed a table near the center. Mom had brought the adobo Rye cooked in the morning (he tried making filo dish to celebrate and share) and it disappeared within minutes.
"This is amazing!" someone said.
"Who made this?"
"The adventurer's son."
Rye felt his face heat up as people complimented the dish. He wasn't used to this kind of attention. Well, Filipino food was superior. Hah. Proud pinoy. He'd be sure to share more of their culture.
Dad raised a mug. "To my son! The festival champion!" Everyone at the table cheered and clinked their mugs together.
Rye took a sip of his watered-down ale and grimaced. He wasn't in the age of consent to drink… this body OR his real body.
'How do people drink this?'
Mari laughed at his expression. "You'll get used to it." And began gulping her own cup. Wasn't she like 12?
As the feast continued, musicians started playing. People danced, laughed, and told stories. Some even traded and showed off their pathway skills. A few kids played in the background… parents talking about their lives.
Eirin sat beside Rye, munching on bread. "See? Wasn't that worth it?"
"Yeah," Rye admitted. "It was."
"And now you have ten thousand crowns! You can buy so much parchment!"
"And ink. And proper tools." Rye grinned. "I can actually practice art now. Real art."
"Will you still teach me?"
"Of course. You made me win this prize."
Eirin chomped on the bread while smiling.
As the night went on, Rye found himself actually enjoying the festival. The food, the music, the people.
For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt... at peace.
Like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.
***
Later, as the crowd began to thin and people started heading home, Rye noticed two men standing at the edge of the square.
They weren't celebrating. Just watching.
One of them wore a dark cloak. The other had a scar across his face.
Rye's stomach twisted.
'Who are they?'
Before he could think too much about it, Dad called out. "Rye! Come on, we're heading home!"
Rye glanced back at the men.
They were gone.
'Weird.'
He shook it off and followed his family home, the pouch of coins heavy in his pocket.
Behind him, hidden in the shadows, the two men watched.
"That's him," the scarred one said. "A system user. Confirmed."
"The boss will pay well for this one."
"We move tonight."