MARVEL-THE MULTIVERSE TRADER

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📢 MASS RELEASE! 📢

I'm releasing 5 new chapters tonight! That brings the total chapter count up, so there's plenty more for you to enjoy. If you've been waiting for more content before diving in, now's a great time to start binging.

If you're enjoying the story so far, I'd really appreciate it if you could drop a Power Stone, leave a comment, and add the novel to your collections — it helps this fanfic reach more readers and grow faster.

Thanks for reading, and enjoy the new chapters! 🔥✨

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MASS RELEASE CHAPTER→1

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A few days later, Nova stopped and looked at the church infront of him.

The building was old, its stone walls cracked with age and overgrown with creeping ivy. A faded wooden cross hung above the entrance, swaying gently in the wind. Its once-bright paint had long since peeled away, leaving behind sun-bleached wood. Stained-glass windows, dulled by time and dust, depicted worn images of ancient mages and the three-leaf clover symbol — the sacred emblem of the kingdom's faith.

The churchyard was modest, a few crooked gravestones scattered around an old oak tree whose roots had begun to swallow some of them. The air was still, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and burning firewood from nearby homes.

Nova took a slow breath, his sharp eyes narrowing as he scanned the surroundings.

"So this is where it all started in the story… the orphanage where Asta and Yuno grew up," he thought.

After collecting every single magic book, scroll, and ancient record from the hidden archive beneath the crumbling Ashbourne estate, Nova stored them inside a magically expanded bag — another valuable legacy item he'd stumbled upon in the family's vault.

The bag was deceptively plain, made of faded leather and stitched with silver thread, but it contained an vast space within, easily accommodating the dozens of tomes and relics he'd secured.

Some of the books were ancient, their titles faded and their pages brittle, while others were detailed grimoires on elemental theory, forbidden rituals, and combat magic.

Once his collection was safely secured, Nova made his way toward a small, unassuming village on the kingdom's outskirts: Hage Village.

He came here to pinpoint exactly where in the story's timeline he had arrived. By knowing the exact age of the Asta and Yuno or when they left, he can infer the exact timeline of events.

Adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, Nova glanced up at the modest church ahead, its worn stone walls and ancient stained-glass windows standing quietly against the afternoon sun. The faint sound of children's laughter drifted from somewhere nearby.

With that, he made his way toward the church doors.

As Nova stepped through the modest churchyard, the air was filled with the soft sounds of children laughing and playing. The old oak tree in the corner cast wide shadows across the yard, and a simple clothesline stretched between two wooden poles, fluttering gently in the breeze.

A group of young children, no older than seven or eight, chased each other around, kicking a worn leather ball across the patchy grass. Their simple, homespun clothes and cheerful faces made the scene feel almost untouched by the harshness of the world beyond these village borders.

His attention settled on a boy standing near a clothesline, helping a young woman hang freshly washed clothes. The boy was around fourteen, tall for his age, with sharp features and unruly dark-green hair. What caught Nova's eye wasn't the boy's appearance — it was the thing he was doing.

Soft gusts of wind swirled in precise patterns, lifting damp clothes and snapping them dry in seconds.

Nova's eyes narrowed. Wind magic. That wind magic… this has to be Yuno.

He wasn't sure, of course. This was his first time seeing any of these people in person. But the combination of the boy's age, appearance, and refined wind magic made the conclusion obvious. There wouldn't be two wind-prodigies of this exact description in a backwater village like this.

The young woman beside the boy, dressed in a simple pale-blue habit, worked with practiced ease. She radiated a gentle, maternal air. Nova guessed she was likely sister Lily, that charmed Asta.

Then, a loud, determined voice snapped his attention toward the old oak tree.

"Fifty-eight! Fifty-nine! Sixty!!"

A boy, roughly the same age as the wind-user, was on the ground hammering out push-ups. But what made Nova raise a brow wasn't the exercise — it was the two small children laughing on his back, treating him like a human ride. The boy's spiky, ash-blond hair, wiry build, and loud, headstrong demeanor made him stand out instantly.

He didn't need to know names to recognize what this meant.

"And this one… has to be Asta."

Even without magic, the kid was overflowing with raw, tireless energy. The way his body moved — trained, determined, relentless — spoke of someone who refused to be outdone.

A grin tugged at Nova's lips.

"Two brats, one with wind magic, the other training his body like his life depends on it. No one else it could be."

It wasn't much, but it was enough to place his footing in the timeline. If they were fourteen, the grimoire ceremony would be coming soon. That meant there's still an year before the plot begins, enough time for him to build connections and influence.

"And who might you be?"

The sudden voice, weathered yet firm, broke Nova from his thoughts. He turned, his gaze settling on an old man standing a few paces away near the church doors.

The man was elderly, with a bald head and a neatly kept white beard that framed a face lined by years of hard work and quiet wisdom. His simple brown robes marked him as a priest of humble standing, and though age had stooped his shoulders, his eyes were steady — calm and observant.

For a fleeting second, Nova studied him in silence.

This must be Father Orsi, he reasoned. The caretaker of the Hage Church and the one who raised both Asta and Yuno.

Nova offered a polite smile. "Nova Ashbourne," he introduced, adjusting the strap of his bag. "Just a traveler passing through."

The old man chuckled warmly. "Not every day we get strangers in Hage. I'm Father Orsi Orfai, caretaker of this church and these little troublemakers."

As if on cue, a small group of children came dashing over, curiosity gleaming in their eyes.

A blonde-haired boy skidded to a stop in front of Nova, grinning ear to ear. "I'm Rekka!" he shouted proudly.

"I'm Hollo!" declared a dark-haired boy, right beside him.

"I'm Aruru!" chirped a lively little girl with bright eyes.

A quieter girl peeked from behind her, speaking softly. "I'm Rowse..."

They stared up at Nova, wide-eyed and fascinated by the stranger in their yard. Nova smirked slightly and gave them a small wave.

Before he could say anything, a slightly older boy, maybe ten or eleven, strolled up behind the group, arms crossed, an unimpressed look on his face. His dark hair hung loosely over his brow, and there was a familiar smugness in his tone.

"I'm Nash," he said flatly, eyeing Nova with a hint of suspicion. "Are you a Magic Knight or something?"

Rekka's eyes lit up. "Yeah! Are you?!"

Hollo joined in eagerly. "You gotta be, right?!"

Nova let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Not a Magic Knight."

The younger kids sagged a little in disappointment — except Nash, who smirked like he'd expected it.

But Nova crouched down slightly, a sly glint in his eye. "But… I do have a really powerful magic. Wanna see?"

Instantly, the younger ones' faces lit up with excitement.

"Really?!" Rekka practically bounced in place.

"Is it fire? Lightning?!" Aruru asked, eyes sparkling.

Nova smirked, raising a hand as a soft, multicolored glow shimmered at his fingertips. "Even better. I can grant wishes."