I Wrote Trash Novels to Level Up, Now Everyone Thinks I'm the Hero

A windswept hilltop overlooked the grey, fog-shrouded valley of the borderlands.

Far in the distance, suspended between two towering granite cliff faces, hung a massive crescent-shaped rift in space, glowing with a faint, silvery light. Inside it, spires and ancient stone corridors floated in stillness within an eternal mist — completely inverted, ceilings pointed down, floors pointed skyward.

This was the entrance to the Inverted Spatial Relic — the Vael-Kharas Dungeon.

At the same moment, thousands of miles east, in the capital of the Solar Empire.

Inside a royal study filled with morning sunlight and the scent of white roses, First Princess Eleanor Sophia de Solaris sat behind a mother-of-pearl inlaid desk.

A gilded first-edition copy of Elegy of the Nameless Knight rested beside an urgent intelligence report from Oakhaven.

Eleanor read the report once.

Then again.

On the third pass, she stopped looking at the conclusion and began marking details in the margin.

Twenty-eight seconds. Twelve attackers neutralized. No confirmed kills. A hunted demihuman freed from a slave covenant and still traveling beside him voluntarily. No house crest displayed. No reward claimed.

Her gaze shifted to the gilded book beside her.

"Either someone in Oakhaven is deliberately imitating the Nameless Knight," Eleanor said, "or we've spent years calling a real man fictional."

Her handmaiden stared at her. "Your Highness..."

Eleanor closed the report.

"Get me the original witness statements. No tavern rumors. No heroic embellishment. I want facts."

She paused, fingertips resting on the cover of the book.

"And make sure whoever this is receives an invitation to the National Youth Selection Tournament."

Only after the handmaiden left did a faint smile touch Eleanor's lips.

"If you're real," she murmured, "I'll find out."

...

Cut back to reality.

On the windswept hilltop outside Oakhaven.

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Lucian sat on a moss-covered boulder, both hands working to break a stale piece of black bread in half.

Clack.

A dry, hollow sound rang out, like stone striking metal.

Lucian raised the bread to take a bite, and his teeth nearly chipped on the spot. He winced, rubbing his jaw, and grumbled at Sylvia standing beside him as he chewed.

"Sylvia, are you sure this thing's actually made from barley flour? I'm pretty sure it's dense enough to forge a crossbow bolt tip out of. Flour in Oakhaven's three times the price it is back home, and the quality's garbage. These border merchants have no professional ethics whatsoever."

Sylvia stood at attention beside him, both hands cradling her own half of the bread like a sacred relic.

She took a small bite, her sapphire eyes fixed on Lucian with an expression full of deep philosophical understanding.

"Master, I understand now. You're using this stale bread to teach me a lesson — that anyone who wishes to carry the burden of restoring lost knowledge must first taste the bitterness of true poverty, so wealth's luxury can never cloud their judgment. Isn't that right?"

Lucian gnawed through the rock-hard bread and let out a helpless sigh.

"No. I'm just cursing out the shameless bastard who sold it to us."

Sylvia smiled gently and nodded to herself. He's being modest again.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

A cascade of silvery, bell-like chimes suddenly exploded through Lucian's mind. The pale blue system panel flared to life, filling his entire field of vision with brilliant golden text.

[PHASE 1 SUMMARY: STEPPING INTO THE WIDER WORLD.]

[Milestones completed:]

- Foundational mastery of 3 Ancient Languages (High Elvish, Demon Tongue, Silver Dialect).

- First voluntary linguistic partnership established.

- First independent field expedition completed.

- Cross-language spell synthesis achieved.

[SYSTEM EVOLUTION SUCCESSFUL: UPGRADED TO VERSION 2.0!]

[PHASE 1 SPECIAL REWARD: 'Syntax Bank' unlocked.]

[Effect: Automatically stores, compresses, and compiles complex multilingual magic combinations. Reduces Stream B's processing time by 80%, enabling chained spatial and dark magic combos with zero delay!]

[Host status: Fully prepared for Tier 3 Dungeon.]

Lucian brushed the bread crumbs off his sleeve and stood, walking toward the edge of the cliff.

He had no idea that, far beyond Oakhaven, House Solaris's intelligence office had already opened a classified file stamped in deep red wax:

THE NAMELESS PHANTOM DOSSIER.

The Inquisition had begun collecting its own reports as well. But right now, in Lucian's head, only one calculation was running.

He turned and looked back at Sylvia, waiting behind him for orders.

"Gear check done?"

"Ready, Master," Sylvia said, one hand pressed to her chest, her silver ears raised with pride. "I have the complete spatial seal layout of Elder Vael's tomb fully memorized."

"Good."

Lucian pulled his hood low, half-shadowing his face, and activated 'Silent Step' and 'Blink.' The ten-year-old's frame drifted through the gap between the two cliffs, stepping across rippling waves of silver mana and straight into the heart of the massive spatial rift.

The corner of his mouth curved into a satisfied smile just before the dungeon gate sealed shut behind him.

"No tax collectors here. No Tax Bureau. And best of all — nobody's going to make me watch a melodramatic stage adaptation of my own garbage..."

"Now this is what I call a businessman's paradise."

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