《My Reincarnation as an Immortal》


 1. Death. Death. Death

    After my death, as the rules of the genre dictate, I was reborn into a new world.


    To my great disappointment, that was the first and last clich¨¦ I encountered.


    Not even a busty goddess greeted me, as usually happens in stories like this. A shame, of course, but there¡¯s a silver lining to everything, right? Instead of that, I found myself face-to-face with Death again. Though, to be honest, the novelty of the experience wore off almost immediately since I met it again¡­ and again¡­ and again, an endless cycle.


    Our dates continue to this day. Try as I might, I can¡¯t even estimate the number of reincarnations. There were just too many.


    Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn¡¯t it? If not for one small ¡°but¡±. Whenever I gain a new life, I lose it almost immediately. It is simply impossible for me to save myself, no matter what I do to try. For instance, yesterday, I reincarnated as an old man who accidentally swallowed a pill wrong and choked to death. I gained his body just as he was sprawled out on the floor, taking his final breath. And the day before that, my would-be mother decided to have an abortion, and my body was torn apart by metal hooks. This list goes on endlessly.


    What exactly I did to deserve this treatment isn¡¯t entirely clear. In my first life, I was a nobody. Yep, not the most impressive r¨¦sum¨¦ for a protagonist, I get it. But, apparently, Death had other opinions on the matter. It set its sights on me and dragged me into this endless loop of rebirths.


    I have only one theory, and it¡¯s a ridiculous one at that. Death didn¡¯t like the fact that I tricked it during our first meeting. How, you ask? Well¡­ A massive, fiery mushroom cloud was blooming before my eyes. I was destined to die in a nuclear blast, but my heart gave out first.


    Even if that¡¯s the reason, I¡¯ve more than repaid my debt. In the adventure it sent me on, I¡¯ve burned alive at least 700 times, if not more.


    The most frustrating part of this whole ordeal is that I can¡¯t even go insane to stop feeling the pain. I¡¯m essentially nothing more than a disembodied consciousness. Every new life is a unique experience. Pain always feels as sharp as the first time. No matter how much I wish I could develop a tolerance for it, it¡¯s just not possible.


    The situation becomes even worse when I end up in the body of something particularly sensitive. So, upon waking, the first thing I check is pain tolerance. If it¡¯s bad, I try to kill myself immediately to avoid prolonged suffering. But pulling that off isn¡¯t always possible. If I ranked my reincarnations based on frequency, humanoid forms would be at the bottom. How do you quickly and painlessly kill yourself as a cockroach? Or worse - a living tree? That¡¯s right; there are worlds where even that¡¯s possible.


    Anyway, enough about the past, because right now, I¡¯m heading into a new adventure. An invisible force rips my consciousness from nirvana and plunges it into a new body.


    I wonder how I¡¯ll die this time?


    ******


    Darkness quickly gave way to light, hitting my eyelids. A warm breeze lazily brushed against my face, rustling the surrounding grass. Above me stretched a boundless blue sky, painted with sparse, careless strokes of white clouds.


    Unfortunately, this time I couldn¡¯t test the body¡¯s sensitivity on my own. Thankfully, I had helpers.


    ¡°AAAAA!¡± I screamed, clutching loose earth in trembling hands and shredding my throat.


    At that very moment, a group of people was devouring me alive.


    Damn it! Damn it!


    I¡¯ve been in similar situations before, often ending up as the lowest link in the food chain. But I''ve never seen people devour their own kind. Though, to be fair, they didn¡¯t exactly look human.


    These were filthy, emaciated figures resembling medieval peasants, draped in tattered linen shirts and coarse, timeworn trousers. Their skin was sickly gray-green, uneven, and riddled with festering sores as if consumed by mold. Their bodies were stained with dirt that would never wash off. Worms wriggled in their decaying flesh; flies buzzed about. Their milky, dried-out eyes lay sunken under grim lids. Faces taut and pale, webbed with deep cracks and wrinkles, some sporting gaping wounds that exposed tendons and bone. Broken, blackened teeth jutted out from their mouths, and dark, nearly black saliva dribbled from cracked lips.


    To the tune of their maddening chewing and my agonized screams, I died.


    ******


    And once again, I wandered through the void. Admittedly, it was faster than usual¡­


    But then¡­


    Light hit my eyelids once more. Only now, the breeze carried the scent of rotting flesh, and the blue sky was tinged red by the blood dripping into my eyes.


    Looking down, I saw the same scene as before - only this time, there were even more zombies. One was slurping up my intestines like giant spaghetti bolognese. Another, gnawed at my right leg, with fetishistic propensity, crunching on the toes. Wait a second¡­ I didn¡¯t even have legs last time.


    A creepy zombie woman leaned in, aiming to leave a love bite, but accidentally tore out my throat instead. I choked on my blood before I could even scream.


    Why was I reborn twice into the same body?! That had never happened before¡­


    And once again, light.


    The same sky.


    The same dinner menu.


    ¡°AAAAA!¡± I screamed in panic.


    No! Don¡¯t touch me! Enough! But all that came out of my mouth were incoherent sounds. Not that I expected my pleas to change their undead minds.


    I tried to fend them off, but all that was left of my arms were gnawed bones. My legs met the same fate. My flesh spilled from their torn cheeks, but it didn¡¯t deter them. More zombies piled onto my body with every passing second¡­This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Stop! I beg you!


    Death. Rebirth. Pain.


    Death.


    I¡¯m used to this cycle, but not in the same body. What¡¯s happening now is too much, even for me. Why are my limbs regrowing? No, why do I keep waking up? It¡¯s not just regeneration.


    Could it be that this new body is immortal?


    ******


    Their teeth sink into my flesh, tearing deep. The pain is sharp, piercing, ripping me apart. Without eyes, I can¡¯t even see whose hand is clawing at my side, but I feel the skin being ripped away, exposing ribs. I scream, but from my parched throat comes only a rasp.


    When I take on a body, my entire nervous system becomes part of me, bound to my consciousness. This means my mind is no longer impartial. I scream, writhe, sob, and wail like any ordinary person.


    The unbearable pain couldn¡¯t break my psyche before, as death itself seemed to prevent that. But if this body is truly immortal, everything changes. Sooner or later, my mind will snap. If the psyche dies, then consciousness will vanish. The cycle of suffering will finally end!


    I just have to endure.


    Just endure¡­


    ¡°AAAAA!¡± But this body - or what¡¯s left of it - doesn¡¯t share my plan, instinctively continuing to struggle.


    Of course, it¡¯s all useless against a dozen undead corpses¡­


    ******


    It¡¯s been three days since I first woke up in this body. I still haven¡¯t lost my mind, and it seems I never will. All this time, I¡¯ve been teetering on the edge, but something keeps pulling me back. It¡¯s not just about the fact that I keep dying, even if temporarily. It seems to be tied to how this body¡¯s regeneration works.


    I¡¯ve come to a conclusion: it doesn¡¯t merely rebuild missing parts; it turns back time, returning the body to its original state. The same goes for the brain and emotions. After all, emotions are just a biochemical deviation from a baseline state. Each new ¡°deviation¡± accelerates the restoration process. In the future, I might reach a point where I don¡¯t die at all. But in the meantime, all emotions will likely become foreign to me.


    Since I have no clue about the nature of this immortality, I can only speculate, but to me, this explanation seems the most logical.


    If I can¡¯t die, I¡¯ll have to find another way out of this mess. I need to kill these creatures at any cost.


    Why didn¡¯t I think of this sooner? Why did I surrender at the first real opportunity to change something?


    Probably because I had given up hope¡­ I even forgot the word existed.


    Nevertheless, fate has thrown me a chance.


    And I¡¯m going to grab it with both hands - or teeth, if necessary. It¡¯s the only way to change anything!


    With the last of my strength, I managed to lift my body and headbutted one particularly bold zombie right in the chest, breaking it. The impact nearly knocked me out, but I pressed on. Opening my mouth wide, I bit into its heart, though even that didn¡¯t stop it.


    Damn it, I need to aim for the brain!


    I died. They devoured me again. Their stomachs had long since burst, spilling their contents across the area. More specifically, my flesh painted the entire village crimson. It¡¯s strange, though. I can¡¯t quite understand where the energy for my regeneration comes from. Then again, I don¡¯t know this world¡¯s laws or how immortality itself works.


    ******


    Every time I wake up, I try to inflict as much damage on them as possible. Most of the time, lacking limbs, I resort to biting. So you could say I¡¯m eating them back. If my observations are correct, though, these bastards will meet their end without my help. Their bodies continue to decay; their movements grow sluggish. Some have lost all their tendons and ligaments. That bastard who loved munching on my toes lost his lower jaw yesterday.


    Serves you right, you prick!


    ******


    With every new awakening, I find more intact pieces of my body. By the seventh day of torment, only 30 out of 95 zombies were left, and even they couldn¡¯t do much to me. These pathetic creatures could barely crawl over the rotting pile of flesh that kept falling out of their bloated stomachs. A disgusting sight.


    For the first time, I stood on my feet and started kicking their heads like I was playing soccer. Though, the ¡°ball¡± burst quickly, spilling brain matter everywhere. Thinking about all the pain I endured these past few days, I let myself get consumed by hatred for these abominations. With no regard for my own body, I kicked them with all my might. By the time I got to the last one, I had broken my leg 17 times.


    Breathing a sigh of relief after the final one had died, I had taken my first breath free of any shackles¡­ and had promptly vomited. All the zombie scraps lingering in my stomach had finally come out. Flies had immediately swarmed the mess. Judging by their appearance, the flies might also have been zombies, ridiculous as it had sounded. I remembered that on the fourth day, a mangy zombie dog, covered in boils and protruding bones, had joined the horde.


    Some dark magic must have cursed this place, killing absolutely everything. All the crops and plants had rotted away. The materials of the villagers¡¯ homes had decayed and cracked. You could argue the houses were already in bad shape, but I doubt anyone would¡¯ve tolerated roofs made of moldy straw.


    Entering one of the huts, I tried to find clothes, since I wasn¡¯t keen on wandering around naked. No luck, though. One touch was enough to reduce the fabric to dust. Stumbling upon a blacksmith¡¯s workshop, I hoped to find chain mail, but it, too, had rusted beyond use.


    It looks like I¡¯ll be parading around with nothing to hide. Not that I¡¯m embarrassed, but it¡¯s better to stick to social norms to avoid awkward situations.


    ¡°Time to hit the road.¡±


    Where am I headed? How should I know? But that¡¯s the beauty of it, isn¡¯t it? My existence is no longer predictable.


    By the way, I should try to stop talking to myself. Pretending to be the main character got me through tough times, but there¡¯s no point in it now.


    ******


    A few hours of walking along ¡°dead¡± hills and meadows brought me to a beach.


    To my amazement, grass was growing near the shoreline.


    Not rotting, growing. Finally!


    Tears welled in my eyes as I dashed toward it, eager to bask in its warm embrace. The bumblebees perched on the flowers weren¡¯t as thrilled and immediately took flight. Among them was one particularly aggressive bee that decided to stick around. It was slightly larger than usual, with a bright purple fuzz. As I failed at it, the insect managed to sting me twice - once in the hand and once on the cheek. Compared to what I¡¯d been through, this was nothing.


    ¡°Buzz off, you furry bastard,¡± I muttered, finally swatting it away and collapsing into the grass.


    Spreading my arms wide, I let myself relax under the sun, staring up at the clouds. It had rained for the past few days, but today was perfect. Gentle ocean waves lapped at the shore, leaving behind thin trails of foam.


    Oh, how I¡¯d missed moments like these¡­


    Suddenly, a tiny aquamarine butterfly landed on my sweat-damp nose. Its delicate wings fluttered lightly in the breeze. I closed one eye to better examine it, but my thoughts drifted far beyond the beach, straight to the clouds. From those clouds emerged a floating fortress, crafted entirely of gold. Its massive walls sparkled in the sunlight, blinding if you stared too long.


    Around the fortress, giant manta-ray-like creatures danced in the air.


    The sight took my breath away.


    My hand instinctively reached toward the sky, as if trying to touch them.


    That¡¯s when I noticed the skin on my fingers was missing, with liquid flesh sliding off the bones and dripping onto my face.


    Next, my breath disappeared. Struggling, I propped myself up on my elbows. Blood and a viscous mixture of gums, teeth, and tongue spilled from my mouth. Vomiting, I died again.


    All that¡­ from a single bumblebee.


    What the hell awaits me next?

 2. Stomachache

    As soon as I opened my eyes, the world exploded in painful light. No sky, no clouds - just a pale, pulsating glow filtering through a fleshy membrane. The air, or whatever it was, scorched my lungs. Every breath felt like acid pouring into me, making me cough involuntarily.


    Around me were nothing but slick, mucus-coated walls, folded like the insides of a living creature. They were so soft that my fingers sank into them when I touched them. The walls pulsed, expanding and contracting as if alive - pushing me out, or maybe pulling me deeper. Raising a hand to wipe my damp face, I felt a searing pain; my fingers were streaked with crimson, as if dipped in acid.


    Ah, this sensation. Familiar. But there was no time for reminiscence. I thought.


    In the center of the ¡°ceiling¡±, something glowed brightly. The temperature spiked, and a sulfuric aroma assaulted my nose. It was an organ resembling a colossal lantern, crisscrossed with pulsating blood vessels.


    Thanks to its light, I saw what lay beneath my feet: bodies submerged in a bubbling, semi-transparent liquid. Not one, not two - dozens. Or maybe hundreds? It was hard to tell. Some were nearly dissolved, pathetic remnants of skulls clinging to their form, covered in slime. Others looked fresh, as if they''d just screamed and fought for life moments ago. Their skin peeled off like wet paper, exposing bones jutting out of a grotesque mess.


    I made the mistake of stepping back. Staying still would¡¯ve kept me from slipping and plunging into the thick, scalding mixture. The liquid rushed into my mouth and nose, and I started choking. It burned me from the inside out, and all I could do was thrash around, grabbing at the remains floating near me.


    The pain intensified with every second. The skin on my arms and legs blistered and peeled away, exposing raw flesh.


    Death simply found a new way to play with me, and that is the real answer to why I was given an immortal body.


    What next? Will the creature whose stomach I¡¯m trapped in digest me? Even if I regenerate from that, I will die again, no matter what. How? A sword to the heart? A beheading? Oh, no - it has to be slow and agonizing, like every other time.


    Alright, fine! I¡¯ll play by these stupid rules! I wanted to scream it out loud, but the acid had eaten away at my throat.


    Fueled by adrenaline, I bit into the fleshy surface with my teeth, desperate to stay on ¡°shore¡±. Underwater, my hand found a sharp bone, which I used like an ice axe.


    The creature didn¡¯t even flinch.


    Shouldn¡¯t a little bleeding make it react somehow?


    My body wouldn¡¯t recover from this kind of damage fast enough, so I¡¯d die again anyway. My only hope is not to wake up in the acid.


    ******


    After dying, as usual, I sink into nirvana.


    It¡¯s always so peaceful here - the perfect place to plan my escape.


    First off, what exactly swallowed me? Judging by the structure of the stomach, it isn¡¯t humanoid. Probably a fish. Or a bird. Hopefully the latter. Maybe it was one of those manta ray things? Wait, manta rays aren¡¯t birds - they¡¯re fish. But in this world, they gracefully glide through the skies.


    Never mind. The escape plan is what matters now.


    There are only two ways out of this situation, and both suck. Crawling through intestines? Hell no. That leaves climbing up to the esophagus, even though it¡¯s three meters up and the walls are slick.


    No way I can do it alone. I¡¯ll have to make the damned beast vomit me out.


    ******


    The moment my heart started beating again, I scanned the stomach¡¯s contents. The scratch I¡¯d made with the bone earlier had no effect, so I needed a real weapon. When I fell into the acid, I¡¯d accidentally brushed against something metallic at the bottom.


    Could it be a soldier''s armor? If so, there might be weapons too. At least, the odds seemed decent.


    The thought of diving back into the acid made my legs tremble. But as they say, ¡°Feel the fear and do it anyway¡±. I gulped nervously and jumped in to avoid overthinking it. This time, I preemptively covered my airways to keep the acid out.


    Navigation was purely by touch, but the pain made it hard to distinguish objects. When I reached my limit, I grabbed the first thing my hands found and surfaced. Staying in the acid much longer would turn me into literal crap.


    My eyelids had melted, and my eyeballs felt boiled, so I couldn¡¯t even see if I¡¯d struck the jackpot. Gasping hoarsely, I lay on the ¡°shore¡±, waiting for my body to recover.


    ******


    Turns out it was just a helmet. So, I dove again. And again. And again¡­ I lost count. Finally, on what must¡¯ve been the eighth attempt, I surfaced with a dagger.


    Enough.


    Gripping the hilt until my knuckles turned white, I cursed under my breath and delivered the first stab. The blade sunk in with difficulty, as if piercing thick fabric. Hot liquid sprayed my hand, splashing onto my face.


    Suddenly, everything came alive. The walls contracted, trying to crush me. My body was flung around, but I anchored myself by shoving my free hand into the wound. Then I struck again. And again. Each blow was met with a deep, resonating rumble. The creature roared. I felt it in my bones - a low, vibrating sound that made the walls tremble.


    Blood gushed from the wounds, mixing with the acid. The liquid bubbled and rose higher. I was standing knee-deep in this mess.


    The beast''s heart raced.


    I screamed, shredding my throat. It fueled my strikes. The vibrations grew stronger; the surrounding space convulsed chaotically. The beast was panicking.


    Suddenly, the liquid surged like a raging river, sweeping me along. Everything shook, and my head spun. I clung to my dagger, my last shred of hope.


    I kept slashing. One blow, then another¡­ until I was violently expelled.


    Light. Cold. Air. That¡¯s when I saw my captor - a horned black dragon spewing out its stomach¡¯s contents mid-flight. Its agonized roar was deafening.


    Smiling with grim satisfaction, I spread my arms wide, ready to embrace death. However, by an ironic twist of fate, I didn¡¯t die. Giant branches of a tree, resembling a sequoia, broke my fall.


    And so I found myself on solid ground. Every bone in my body was broken, leaving me immobile. Honestly, I¡¯d rather have died than feel my skeleton painfully realign itself.


    ******


    I feel a bit guilty about how I treated the dragon. Sure, it devoured me, but who knows how long it would¡¯ve taken me to cross the sea otherwise? From what I could tell, the zombie village was on an island, meaning there was no other way off it. There was a good chance sea monsters would¡¯ve eaten me during the crossing. And if I escaped from their stomachs, I¡¯d probably end up crushed by water pressure. Without a famous Logitech controller to guide me, that¡¯d be game over.


    Enough dwelling on what could¡¯ve been. What matters is that the worst is behind me. At least, I hope it is.


    My body didn¡¯t fully recover until nightfall, so I had no clue where I was headed. The towering sequoias barely let the moonlight filter through their canopy, leaving the grove shrouded in darkness.


    Danger could lurk around any corner.


    What¡¯s the plan? First - a bath. Second - find clothes. Third - food. I¡¯m not particularly hungry, but after all the crap that¡¯s been in my mouth, I want to savor a proper meal. Plus, there¡¯s alcohol to consider! I can drink as much as I want without getting drunk. In my first life, I wasn¡¯t legally allowed to drink due to my age, so it¡¯s high time I made up for lost opportunities.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    On a more practical note, it wouldn¡¯t hurt to learn this world¡¯s laws. And I¡¯m not just talking about state regulations - I mean the rules governing magic and other forces here. But I have a feeling it won¡¯t be easy. The real world isn''t filled with convenient clich¨¦s like in those books I used to read after school. A random peasant living in the middle of nowhere probably won¡¯t be able to explain how everything works, given their lives revolve around fields and forests. I¡¯ll have to gather information bit by bit from those who know the subject.


    The problem is, I¡¯m not entirely sure how to go about it. I understand the local language, but I¡¯m still struggling to speak it properly.


    By the way, the fact that I know the language is a result of the synchronization of my consciousness with the body¡¯s brain. The previous owner¡¯s memories become mine. But this time, there¡¯s something odd - I didn¡¯t get any memories at all. In previous lives, I¡¯d recall the body¡¯s backstory within a few hours. Assuming I survived that long, of course.


    A strong gust of wind blew, and huge pinecones fell from the branches. I wondered if one would kill me if it fell on my head, but I decided not to test it. Covering my head with my hands, I climbed into a hollow to wait out the storm.


    ******


    Three days of wandering finally brought me to a road. Fresh tracks of hooves and wagon wheels were still visible in the wet dirt. Following them, I eventually left the forest, and before me unfolded a new landscape: a sea of smooth fescue grass stretching to the horizon. Waves of golden hues rippled with every gust of wind. In the distance, nestled among the hills, stood a slender pagoda, much of it hidden in the morning mist. The sky, painted in somber gray tones, hung heavy like a harbinger of a storm.


    Lately, the rain has hardly stopped, and it seems today will be no exception. That might explain why I¡¯d encountered so few animals. The only ones in sight were small rodents, which immediately hid as soon as they saw me. Or maybe it¡¯s because of the hunters? Along the way, I occasionally came across their huts, but never found anyone at home. But that''s just as well, since they probably wouldn''t have appreciated how treacherously I broke in, searching for something to wear.


    Yes, yes. I¡¯m no longer naked! The risk of awkward situations is behind me.


    ******


    When I reached a bridge spanning a river, I checked off my second goal. Jumping into freshwater wasn¡¯t as exciting as plunging into acid, but it would do. After the rain stopped and the ripples on the river¡¯s surface settled, I finally saw my reflection. A teenager stared back: fair-skinned, with short black hair and gray eyes.


    The face of the most average protagonist from a third-rate isekai. If that¡¯s the case, shouldn¡¯t the beginning of my journey have been equally generic? I wouldn¡¯t have minded being a noble with a leveling system and a harem of beauties inexplicably chasing after me. Trite, but still better than the way I started.


    However, it would be a sin to complain, considering that I''ve just set a new record - three whole days without a date with Death. And on top of that, I''m knocking off tasks one after another.


    That leaves only food, and then I can start thinking about new objectives. But a proper meal doesn¡¯t come free. Time to learn about local currency and how to earn it.


    ******


    According to a signpost, the village I stumbled upon was called Apelfaund. It was nestled along the river I¡¯d just bathed in. Cheerful girls and women were washing bedding and clothes, splashing each other with soapy water. A little farther downstream, ducks floated lazily, and on a wooden pier, a fisherman dozed with his rod in hand. Clearly, the fish weren¡¯t biting.


    Children darted through the streets, followed by wagging-tailed dogs. A well-trodden road cut through the village, suggesting it saw its fair share of traders and travelers. Wagons loaded with goods and tied-up horses by the stable confirmed this.


    There should be a resting spot somewhere.


    This place seemed peaceful. At least I didn¡¯t encounter any hostility from the locals. Most smiled or nodded slightly when our eyes met.


    I¡¯m unlikely to get killed here, though again, I won¡¯t make any predictions.


    The small houses, which seemed to have grown straight from the earth, remind me of a zombie village. The walls, made of yellow logs, had already darkened with the passage of time. Thin tendrils of smoke lazily rose from the clay chimneys protruding from the straw roofs. Simple carvings adorned the beams, their patterns modest yet charming. The windows were tiny, with curtains that looked like they had been made from burlap sacks.


    There was a church, too. It lacked a distinctive symbol like a cross, but its stained glass marked it as a place of worship. Besides, it stood a humble bell tower, and the bell rang out just as I passed, marking the hour. Judging by the occasional appearance of the sun, it must¡¯ve been around eight in the morning. But for such an early hour, the streets were unusually lively. A crowd had gathered nearby, and I wondered what the commotion was about.


    As I approached, a strange scene unfolded before me. Two men stood in the middle of a circle - one an elderly man in his seventies, the other a grimy drunkard who, judging by his state, had likely slipped on the steps outside the tavern across the way.


    Are they about to fight? Both were barely standing, spitting curses at each other.


    Among the onlookers were some enterprising villagers collecting bets. Instead of coins, the gamblers handed over colorful stones.


    Is that their currency?


    ¡°What¡¯s the problem here?¡± I asked one of the spectators.


    My earlier practice talking to myself was paying off. If I repeated a sentence in my mind enough times, I could finally speak it aloud.


    ¡°Old Petar didn¡¯t like his son-in-law badmouthing our prince,¡± the man replied. Then he turned to look at me. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re not from around here.¡±


    Do I stand out that much? Or does he just know everyone in this village? The latter seems more plausible.


    ¡°Does this kind of ¡®fun¡¯ often happen?¡± I inquired.


    ¡°Nope. Just lucky a wandering musician showed up. Petar¡¯s an old-school guy. He wants to teach that freeloader a lesson the traditional way.¡±


    ¡°I''m not quite catching the connection,¡± I said, scratching the back of my head while glancing back at the fighters.


    That''s when I noticed a young, pretty girl standing nearby. Her chestnut hair was neatly gathered into a high bun, decorated with a ribbon and floral hairpins. The girl was petite, wearing a short brown jacket with wide sleeves, the edges of which were adorned with crimson petal patterns. Under the jacket, a layered skirt made of light fabric peeked out. She wore high leather boots with metal accents, and in her hands was a violin, with a delicate flute fastened to her belt and a lute case hanging over her back.


    ¡°In Velisatia, it¡¯s an old tradition to settle disputes with fists, but only during duels. It¡¯s different where you¡¯re from, huh?¡± the man continued.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that the Deorites, those bastard sons of whores, beat their wives every day for no reason,¡± chimed in another villager.


    Big Land? Deorites? It seemed my ignorance of their customs made them conclude I was a foreigner.


    ¡°What does the musician have to do with this?¡± I deflected the question and posed my own.


    The man squinted at me like I was an idiot. ¡°A duel without music is like a battle between pigs stuck knee-deep in their own shit.¡±


    I nodded as if I understood.


    Earlier, he¡¯d practically admitted that this was an outdated tradition, so clearly not everyone in this country adhered to it. But when it comes to a duel, the musical accompaniment is a must. Ah, I hoped that this applied to any kind of violence, and that when I encountered bandits, I could simply refuse to duel, and they¡¯d let me go without any fuss.


    ¡°By the way, if you¡¯re planning to place a bet, go with the old man,¡± the man said, spitting on the ground before continuing. ¡°He used to serve in the Fourteenth Division under the late Prince Tuali-¡± But my companion didn¡¯t get to finish his sentence, interrupted by a drunken man standing in the circle.


    "And then they disbanded them and tossed them out onto the streets like decrepit, hic... stray dogs!"


    ¡°Shut your filthy mouth!¡± Petar growled, glaring at him from under his brows.


    ¡°And what, am I wrong, Daddy? Hic¡­ His Highness wiped his¡­¡± holding back vomit, he continued, ¡°He wiped his ass with every Velisatian, hic¡­ and here you are, still worshiping him,¡± the drunk slurred, gesturing wildly as he spoke.


    Not knowing the full picture, it¡¯s hard to tell who¡¯s in the right. But I definitely wouldn¡¯t bet on the old man. Even though the drunk can barely stand, the odds are still against the elder. Their weight and age categories are just too different.


    ¡°A parasite has no right to criticize the actions of his superiors!¡± the older man got worked up and started coughing.


    ¡°Exactly what I thought. A lapdog through and through,¡± Petar¡¯s son-in-law said with a playful grin, casting a glance at the bard before giving her a wink. He clearly has no clue what¡¯s going on.


    ¡°Girl, play your music,¡± the old man muttered, as he tightened his grip on a wooden club.


    His opponent stepped forward, fists bare.


    Suddenly, the air was sliced by the unexpectedly pure notes of a violin. The melody was so delicate and out of place in this setting that I froze, doubting my ears. I don¡¯t have many weaknesses, but music is definitely one of them. In the past, it often saved me in tough times, brightening the dullest of days.


    And, as it turned out, music could even save this absurd brawl.


    Or maybe it couldn¡¯t.


    The son-in-law slipped and face-planted into the mud. The old man seized the opportunity, dropping to his knees and beating his opponent mercilessly. It was hard to believe those frail hands could still hold so much strength.


    The younger men pulled the swearing elder away just in time. Despite the gaping, bleeding wound on his head, the loser was still breathing.


    ¡°I told you, the Fourteenth Division is no joke,¡± someone muttered from the crowd.


    The audience didn¡¯t seem too thrilled with the outcome. I couldn¡¯t tell if they were upset about the drunk¡¯s loss or the fact that he survived.


    But honestly, I didn¡¯t care about them. My attention was on the girl, who was now pocketing her payment and stashing her violin back in its case.


    ¡°Hi,¡± I said confidently, stepping toward her.


    She shot me a look of indifference before walking off.


    ¡°I really liked your playing. I¡¯d love to hear more.¡±


    Without breaking stride, she held out her open hand, silently demanding payment for a private performance.


    ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t have any money.¡±


    At that, whatever sliver of interest she had vanished, and she quickened her pace.


    She told me to fuck off without saying a single word. Well, it is what it is. I¡¯m not the kind of guy who chases after women. Especially not ones who couldn¡¯t care less about me.

 3. Anomaly

    Walking through Apelfaund, I decided to visit the church. The building was tiny. The ceiling and walls were adorned with frescoes that told a story I couldn¡¯t fully understand. A recurring figure, a character wearing a sun-shaped mask, stood out. His stone-carved likeness was prominently displayed at the center of the room.


    I dare to assume he is their god. Worshiping the sun doesn¡¯t surprise me at all.


    ******


    Amid apple trees, their fruit already littered the ground, stood a pagoda with mint-green and black walls. The roofs showed signs of age - moss in some places, missing tiles in others.


    Nearby, a woman in a white blouse embroidered with green patterns on the chest and sleeves gently plucked fruit from the lower branches, placing them in a basket. A bit farther away, a young man in a straw hat wielded a long pole.


    ¡°What¡¯s a pagoda doing here?¡± I muttered under my breath, craning my neck. ¡°This structure doesn¡¯t fit the village¡¯s aesthetic at all.¡±


    As I approached, a dull flute melody floated from within.


    Visiting the temple wasn¡¯t part of my plans, but the bard¡¯s presence changed everything. I wouldn¡¯t disturb them; I just wanted to listen to the melody until the end.


    The moment I stepped over the threshold, the massive doors shut behind me. Inside, it seemed empty, yet not lifeless. Soft light streamed from above, accentuating the height of the room. Following the example of two other visitors, I removed my muddy boots before stepping onto the polished floor.


    Next to the wandering musician sat a meditating monk in a gray robe adorned with feathers at the shoulders, cuffs, and hem. A large, sun-shaped amulet hung from his neck.


    With his eyes closed, the man hummed loudly, ruining the melody.


    Sitting at a distance from the pair, I noticed a massive statue of a five-tailed fox behind them. Its body was carved from wood veined with black streaks, and its eyes were made of smooth obsidian.


    ¡°Do we have a guest?¡± The elderly man noticed me as their little ritual ended.


    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to intrude.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. We¡¯ve just finished,¡± he replied in a soft, calming voice.


    The girl, however, didn¡¯t share the monk¡¯s sentiment, judging by her disgruntled glare.


    ¡°Do you need something?¡± the man inquired.


    ¡°The young lady¡¯s music captivated my heart. I couldn¡¯t pass by after hearing her play,¡± I said with deliberate pomp.


    ¡°I can¡¯t disagree,¡± the monk smiled and nodded. ¡°You don¡¯t look like a local. Are you traveling too?¡±


    Too? Is he referring to himself or the bard?


    ¡°Does aimless wandering count as traveling?¡± After a brief pause, I posed the question in return.


    I hope he appreciates a philosophical quote as profound as the description of an air freshener.


    ¡°Of course. The essence lies in the journey itself and discovering new things. Tell me about your discoveries.¡±


    Is he really interested? It''s hard to tell from his expression, but ignoring it in this situation would be rude.


    There¡¯s just one problem left. I don¡¯t want to bring up immortality in a conversation with a complete stranger. Without such an important detail, stories about a zombie village and escaping from a dragon¡¯s stomach won¡¯t sound very believable. So, what can I even talk about? Reincarnations? No, that¡¯s an absolute taboo.


    ¡°I discovered that giant pinecones grow in the nearby forest.¡±


    ¡°Ha-ha-ha!¡± The old man laughed heartily, as if recalling something. ¡°Last week, one of those fell right on my head. The bruise healed quickly, but the dent-¡± he rubbed his bald head enthusiastically, but the girl tugged his sleeve, cutting him off mid-sentence.


    The monk whispered something to her, but the girl said not a word.


    Is she mute?


    She didn¡¯t use sign language either, yet the old man seemed to have a meaningful dialogue with her, basing it on facial expressions.


    ¡°Are you pretending or do you genuinely understand her?¡±


    ¡°The first option would insult young Chao-Ri.¡±


    ¡°Then how do you do it?¡±


    ¡°I can hear the echoes of her soul.¡±


    ¡°And her soul told you her name?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Perhaps.¡±


    Can¡¯t he just give a straight answer?


    ¡°Sounds dubious,¡± I deliberately provoked him.


    Is he speaking abstractly, or does such a concept truly exist in this world? Since fate has so swiftly brought me together with such an intriguing person, I want to seize the opportunity to test this boundary, so I don''t end up looking like a fool later. But monks, according to traditional beliefs, are wise fellows, so it¡¯s entirely possible he won''t fall for a cheap trick.


    ¡°Belief or disbelief is your prerogative, young man. But isn¡¯t your presence here proof enough?¡±


    ¡°And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?¡± I chuckled at his reasoning.


    ¡°After all, Chao-Ri''s music must have touched the strings of your soul, didn''t it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, old man! Must you twist everything? The fact that I enjoy her playing and the fact that you might learn her name are two entirely different things,¡± I said, pointing at the girl.


    At this rate, I wouldn¡¯t learn anything new. Come on, give me at least a crumb of useful information!


    ¡°Let¡¯s get back to you, traveler. Surely you¡¯ve seen more than just pinecones?¡± the man asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have the most exciting life.¡±


    ¡°Sounds dubious,¡± the old rascal used my own trick against me.


    ¡°Belief or disbelief is your prerogative, old man,¡± I retorted.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± he nodded.


    We are nobody to each other, so having a proper conversation is impossible. Since the bard finishes playing, it is time for me to leave.


    Just then, the temple doors opened, and a panting young man burst in.


    ¡°Master Baan, there¡¯s trouble!¡±


    ¡°Calm down and catch your breath,¡± the monk approached the young man, handing him a pumpkin flask. ¡°Here, take this.¡±


    After wetting his throat, the boy managed to speak. ¡°Mutslav and Misha returned to the village, and¡­ and¡­¡± his breath failed him again.


    ¡°Easy, easy. No rush. Are they your hunters?¡± the old man clarified.


    Your hunters? Now I am certain the monk isn¡¯t a local either.


    ¡°Y-yes¡­ Anyway¡­ ha¡­ in the forest¡­ they stumbled upon a massive anomaly. From their description, it¡¯s about half the size of Apelfaund,¡± the boy nervously swallowed, spreading his arms wide before continuing. ¡°Maybe the rumbling yesterday wasn¡¯t an earthquake, but it falling from the sky?¡±


    An anomaly?


    ¡°Did this anomaly have wings by any chance?¡±


    ¡°Did I forget to mention that? Yes, big ones¡­ really big wings.¡±


    ¡°Is the creature dead?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why the elder sent me to find you. Mutslav and Misha aren¡¯t sure about such things. They said it looked dead. But they can¡¯t say for sure.¡±


    ¡°Will they escort me there?¡±


    ¡°N-no, I don¡¯t think so,¡± the boy replied uncertainly. ¡°They looked scared out of their wits. Misha even screamed she¡¯d never set foot in that forest again.¡±


    ¡°And you?¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± The young man¡¯s knees visibly trembled. ¡°Master Baan, I think you can find the way yourself! I¡¯ll explain everything in detail. To the north, past the poppy field, there¡¯s a trail...¡± The boy eagerly started describing the route, and the old man listened intently.


    ******


    Kicking damp branches along the forest path, I found myself mesmerized by the slow fall of autumn leaves.


    But a gentle nudge from Chao-Ri snapped me out of it.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Not receiving an answer, I turned my gaze to the monk walking ahead. ¡°Hey, Baan, what does she mean with her cute little ear wiggles?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your interpretation?¡± he responded without looking back.


    ¡°Are you curious why I came along despite everyone else in the village pissing themselves at the mere mention of the anomaly?¡± I directed my question to her.


    The bard rolled her eyes thoughtfully, pursed her lips, and gave a hesitant nod. It seemed I¡¯d guessed correctly - at least partially.


    ¡°Today I learned that the essence of travel lies in discovering the new. Believe it or not, I¡¯ve never encountered an anomaly like this before.¡±


    I deliberately frame it this way to avoid seeming suspicious. After all, I don¡¯t know - these creatures might be common knowledge here, taught to kids from childhood. My ignorance on the matter is unacceptable. Yet, my curiosity is genuine - I want to see what the creature truly looks like and why it is called an anomaly. Perhaps it warps space around itself? Either way, I am glad they don¡¯t mind my company.


    ¡°We¡¯re close,¡± the old man noted, observing a strange change in the landscape. ¡°It seems the creature really fell from the sky.¡±


    We arrived at an area where the ground was torn apart. Deep cracks slashed through the earth as if giant claws had ripped it to shreds. Uprooted trees lay scattered, their roots jutting out at odd angles. The air was thick with the scent of fresh soil, tree sap, and faint hints of decay.


    When we saw the cause of the chaos, I froze in shock. Black as coal, its scales gleamed faintly in the light. Twisted horns, a sharp tail ending in a pike-like tip, and, of course, massive wings. It was the same dragon that had swallowed me.


    While the girl tried to climb onto its body, I approached the old man standing by its head. He ran his fingers over the dried bloodstains on its jaw and sniffed them. Meanwhile, I examined a massive fang broken from its mouth during the fall. By size and weight, it resembled a sack of potatoes.


    And the dragon had at least a hundred of these monstrous teeth? For some reason, I immediately pictured it chewing me to pieces.


    ¡°Strange,¡± Baan broke the silence.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°What¡¯s strange?¡±


    ¡°Despite its size, there¡¯s almost no blood around. And the little that¡¯s here has an odd smell.¡±


    That¡¯s just dragon vomit, old man.


    ¡°Could it be that its ¡®red substance¡¯ is simply different from ours?¡±


    I nearly call the creature a dragon. That would raise unnecessary questions. Not even in the darkest corners of my mind can I find a suitable translation for the word. I assume their language doesn¡¯t have it, and these mythical beasts are simply called anomalies.


    The monk said nothing, but his face betrayed unease.


    All right, so be it, I¡¯ll give him a hint.


    ¡°Or maybe its blood mixed with something? It looks like the creature threw up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve considered that. It¡¯s the simplest explanation for its miserable condition. But I can¡¯t figure out why it vomited in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it ate something it shouldn¡¯t have?¡±


    Like an immortal, desperate guy, perhaps?


    ¡°That¡¯s possible,¡± he nodded without much conviction. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter right now.¡±


    He¡¯s right. The elder only asked him to confirm the absence of danger.


    ¡°And how do you determine whether such a massive creature is truly dead?¡± I asked, lightly kicking its scales to test their hardness. ¡°Wait, I know - check if it¡¯s breathing. Look at those huge nostrils!¡±


    But Baan didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he took action. Assuming a battle stance, he stomped the ground. A sharp, stone spike erupted beneath the dragon¡¯s head, lifting it slightly and scattering the crows perched on it. The scales proved too tough, so he repeated the process several times until he pierced the skull completely.


    ¡°Now it¡¯s definitely dead,¡± Baan clapped his hands. ¡°Now we just have to figure out how to dispose of the body.¡±


    This guy isn¡¯t as simple as he seems, is he? While I still don¡¯t think he is a bad person, he isn¡¯t exactly a saint either. Even now, I can sense a faint bloodlust emanating from him.


    ¡°Burning it won¡¯t work. To affect those scales, you¡¯d need a massive pyre. And there¡¯s barely any dry wood left in the forest,¡± I pointed out.


    ¡°I know. But burying it isn¡¯t an option either.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Who knows what it brought with it from another world? About forty years ago, an anomaly the size of a walnut appeared in my homeland. The disease that tiny thing brought wiped out tens of thousands of people and animals,¡± Baan wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. ¡°If we leave it as is or bury it, the worms feeding on it could become a serious problem for the locals.¡±


    From another world? An anomaly? Does that mean I am one of them? Now I have even more reason to choose my words carefully. What if they have inquisitors who hunt down those who don''t belong? If such people find out about my immortality, the events in the zombie village would seem like a blessing in comparison. And it''s not just paranoia. If I''ve learned anything from my reincarnations, it''s that humans are the most cruel and greedy creatures in any world, no matter how clich¨¦ that sounds. They will stop at nothing to expose the nature of my powers.


    ¡°Any other ideas?¡± I asked, returning to the topic.


    ¡°We need to return to the temple and try again to contact the spirit of the forest. Only the guardian of this land can cleanse it of this corruption.¡±


    So that¡¯s what they were doing earlier. I suppose he really can communicate with spirits. But what was his reason for reaching out to the fox last time?


    Just then, a whistle echoed from above. The bard, standing on the anomaly¡¯s back, was waving her hand to call us over.


    Baan, conjuring a stone platform beneath his feet, rose up to meet her.


    ¡°What is it?!¡± I called out, raising my voice slightly.


    ¡°Saddle and reins!¡± he replied.


    So, the dragon isn¡¯t wild? Then where is its rider?


    Baan and I locked eyes.


    ¡°We¡¯d better get back to the village quickly,¡± the monk said as he leapt down.


    Without another word, he took off running. Impressively fast for his age. Chao-Ri followed close behind. To avoid being left behind, I too sprinted with all my might.


    Fortunately, sore legs and ragged breathing pose no real threat to me.


    ******


    As we approached the village, we stumbled upon corpses. The worst-case scenario had come true. I couldn¡¯t see the old man¡¯s face, but I could feel his anger. Each scream from the village seemed to fuel his resolve, making him run even faster.


    How could this happen? Why today of all days, when I happened to be here? The thought gnawed at me.


    Near the church, we finally caught sight of the perpetrator. The creature loomed in the middle of the street, both elegant and terrifying. Crimson patterns glowed on its gray body. A crown of horns and spikes adorned its head, and long, almost golden hair cascaded over its shoulders.


    In its right hand, it gripped a blood-soaked spear, as if forged from nightmares. It swung the weapon with terrifying ease, splitting a woman clutching a child in two. Blood sprayed across the ground, and the creature didn¡¯t even falter. Another swing, and a fleeing man fell with a horrifying scream, both his legs severed.


    Abruptly, Baan launched a massive boulder at the monster. It reacted quickly, deflecting the projectile. Dust filled the air as the boulder crashed into one of the houses, reducing it to rubble.


    The creature charged forward, its weapon flashing. Baan raised his hands, and a massive granite wall erupted from the earth before him. But the spear pierced through it effortlessly, forcing the monk to leap aside.


    With a stomp, the ground beneath the creature fractured. Sharp, jagged spires of rock shot upward, impaling its side. The beast roared, but even wounded, it pressed on. A swing of its spear shattered the spire into shards, showering Baan with debris.


    The old man shielded himself with an arm, but the distraction gave the monster a chance to close in. Its crown glowed ominously, pulsating with its seething fury. Driving its weapon into the ground with immense force, it created a shockwave that sent Baan flying.


    Am I really powerless to do anything in this situation? Despite my immortality, this body is pitifully weak. My interference wouldn¡¯t make a difference.


    Perhaps I can help the villagers? Some are still alive, writhing, reaching out with bloodied stumps. No¡­ Their wounds are too severe. All I can do is watch as the light fades from their eyes.


    Taking a deep breath, I felt a wave of calm wash over me. My body reverted to its baseline state, cutting off any threads of rising sorrow.


    The dead can¡¯t be brought back, and grieving¡­ Well, they¡¯re strangers to me.


    And yet¡­ I can¡¯t keep tolerating this horror. I don¡¯t want to accept death as an inevitability anymore.


    Furthermore, I know for sure that Death will always be at my heels. If I don¡¯t die, then it¡¯s others - innocent people - who will suffer. To turn a blind eye to that? After everything I¡¯ve endured, I¡¯ll never accept such an outcome!


    Shifting my gaze from old Petar¡¯s lifeless body, I broke into a run. It felt as if my legs had made the decision for me, moving faster than ever.


    Dodging through the chaos of the battle, I sprinted toward the woman who¡¯d been cleaved in two.


    I didn¡¯t see what had happened to her child. Considering where he¡¯d been at that moment, the chances of him meeting the same fate as his mother are nearly certain.


    But if there is even the faintest hope that he is alive, I have to try to save him.


    As it turned out, my efforts weren¡¯t in vain. A boy, around five years old, lay on the ground with a gash running across his body. Tearing off a sleeve from my shirt, I pressed it against the wound, but it wasn¡¯t enough to stop the bleeding.


    What should I do? What should I do?! Panic threatened to consume me.


    ¡°Baan! We can still save the boy!¡± I shouted, holding him in my arms.


    If I can¡¯t do anything myself, I have to rely on others.


    The monk glanced at me and quickly grasped the situation. This time, instead of ripping a boulder from the earth, he conjured one from thin air. The projectile was far faster, and it was no surprise that the creature failed to react. The stone struck its head, shattering one of its horns.


    Blood gushed out in torrents, and the beast staggered. Its scream resembled the dying wail of a wounded animal.


    The anomaly seemed to be torn between attacking or stopping the bleeding. But neither choice mattered - it was already too late.


    Dropping its spear, the gray-skinned creature collapsed to one knee, clutching its wound.


    With one final blow, Baan crushed it with stone walls, smashing it like an insect.


    ******


    Out of Apelfaund¡¯s 102 residents, 18 perished. The slaughter claimed the lives of several visitors too - a merchant and two travelers. Thankfully, the young boy survived, though he teetered on the edge of death.


    When things finally calmed down, Baan and I helped the surviving men dig graves.


    ¡°Many died, and that¡¯s tragic¡­ But think instead of those you managed to save,¡± I tried to comfort him, noticing the sorrow on his face.


    ¡°Thank you for your concern, but my thoughts aren¡¯t on the dead right now,¡± he replied, thrusting his shovel into the damp earth.


    ¡°Then what are they on?¡±


    He remained silent. Well, fine.


    ¡°My grandson,¡± Baan finally spoke, his voice quiet and strained. ¡°Since childhood, he dreamed of grand adventures, just like the heroes in stories. I always tried to warn him, to tell him about the horrors lurking in the world beyond¡­ but the boy didn¡¯t listen. He followed his heart and ran away.¡±


    ¡°And he-¡±


    Baan cut me off before I could finish.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve been searching for him for two years now, with no luck. Every day, I pray that he¡¯s alive¡­ at least alive,¡± he whispered, his gaze rising to the heavens. ¡°And you know, I¡¯ve even made my peace with the worst - if he¡¯s a prisoner, a slave¡­ That¡¯s a nightmare, yes, but it means he still has a chance. It means I can find him, protect him. But if he¡¯s like these poor souls here, buried in the cold earth¡­¡±


    Looking at the cold, lifeless bodies, he feels like he''s burying his own grandson, the one he failed to protect. Bann knows all too well that the world isn¡¯t all butterflies and rainbows, so he¡¯s been bracing himself for the worst since day one. Yet, despite it all, he keeps moving forward, lending a hand to others along the way.


    He''s a Worthy Man.


    ¡°Sorry if I touched a nerve,¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Bann replied, quickly wiping his face with his hand. ¡°Sometimes, you just need to get it out.¡±


    Such are the realities of a medieval world - lawlessness and danger around every corner. Setting out on an exciting adventure? If you¡¯re weak, the odds aren¡¯t in your favor.


    ¡°I can help,¡± I said confidently, continuing to dig.


    ¡°With what?¡±


    ¡°With your search.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Bann chuckled softly, rubbing the handle of his shovel thoughtfully. ¡°Don¡¯t joke about that. I might just take you up on it.¡±


    ¡°Believe it or not, I only recently escaped slavery. I was in chains so long I nearly lost myself completely. My parents¡¯ faces, my hobbies, my first love¡­ even my own name faded away. Everything that once meant so much to me - lost its meaning entirely,¡± I confessed, pouring my heart out.


    Bann said nothing, unsure how to respond to my sudden candor.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing left. Just an empty vessel wandering aimlessly through the world. But today, that changed. The way you protected those people - it left an indelible mark on me. I think that by staying near you, I might become a better version of myself,¡± I concluded.


    I may have exaggerated his role a bit to butter him up.


    The old man broke into a smile. ¡°Alright. But I have one condition.¡±


    Surprisingly, he agreed rather quickly. Maybe the fact that I ran to save that child impressed him?


    ¡°Name it.¡±


    ¡°In the capital, we part ways.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    And how far is the capital, anyway?


    ¡°My next stop after Kamigrad is the Giant¡¯s Palm. The lands beneath the dome are far too dangerous, and frankly, I doubt you and Chao-Ri could handle the journey,¡± Bann said, clapping me on the shoulder.


    Well, it¡¯s better than nothing.


    ¡°Deal,¡± I said, and we shook hands.


    I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t joining their group for selfish reasons. From now on, exploring the world would become much easier. To the monk, I¡¯m just a clueless ex-slave, so asking naive questions about basic things shouldn¡¯t raise suspicion. Lucky for me, I stumbled upon an experienced traveler so quickly; it¡¯ll accelerate my progress immensely.


    What¡¯s my goal?


    I want to fight Death. In other words, I want to be a superhero who helps those in need. That bitch has screwed me over for millions of years, so it¡¯s high time I stood up to it. But to pull those in need from its cold, dead grip, I need to grow stronger. Kind words alone won¡¯t get me far.


    ¡°There are two problems left,¡± Bann said, still gripping my hand. ¡°First, your name.¡±


    ¡°I really have forgotten it. But you could always ask my soul.¡±


    ¡°Ha-ha-ha! I can communicate with spirits, but human souls¡­ That¡¯s forbidden territory.¡±


    Is it just me, or is he more relaxed now than he¡¯s been this whole time?


    ¡°Then how did you know the bard¡¯s name?¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s the second issue. The truth is, Chao-Ri is actually quite talkative,¡± the monk whispered, glancing around suspiciously.


    ¡°She is?¡± I raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°The young lady has a speech impediment and feels self-conscious talking around strangers. But keep that between us,¡± he added, still scanning the area.


    I knew it. That entire ¡°echoes of her soul¡± thing was just poetic nonsense.


    ¡°No big deal. She¡¯ll get used to it sooner or later.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s different with me - I¡¯m an old man. Talking to me doesn¡¯t make her uncomfortable. But you two are about the same age. I¡¯m worried that kind of barrier might be harder for her to overcome,¡± he kept whispering.


    Does he mean she might develop feelings or something? Ha! The monk can relax. I¡¯m incapable of that. When I first met Chao-Ri, one glance was enough to make my heart race. And how long did it last? Thirteen seconds. That¡¯s the maximum lifespan of my infatuation. With other emotions, it¡¯s even worse.


    And anyway, we¡¯re not the same age. I¡¯m older than she by what¡­ five million years?


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll do my best to make sure she feels at ease,¡± I assured him.


    Making a girl lose interest is easy: just act like a complete idiot. Smart? Smart.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it. Now, as for your name-¡±


    ¡°Could you give me one?¡± I cut him off.


    The monk set his shovel aside.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± He seemed to have been thinking about it already.


    ¡°A person can give themselves a nickname, but not a name.¡±


    Bann nodded and, after a few moments of thought, finally said it: ¡°How about Ekki?¡±


    ¡°Ekki,¡± I repeated with a smile. ¡°Cool. What does it mean?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know. It was the name of a dog I had as a kid.¡±


    ¡°A dog?!¡±


    The monk scratched the dent on his bald head awkwardly.


    ¡°Big or small?¡± I asked, pouting.


    ¡°Uh¡­ medium?¡±


    ¡°Alright. A dog¡­ So that¡¯s how you see me, huh? A mutt that¡¯s latched on and won¡¯t let go?¡± I stuck out my tongue and started panting loudly, dripping with sarcasm.


    Bann tried to explain himself but quickly realized I was joking and joined in the humor. The other men digging graves weren¡¯t too amused.


    As for the name¡­ I like it.


    ******


    And so, my fate intertwined with these two. At the time, I couldn¡¯t have imagined where such a simple alliance would lead. But it was the start of a chain of events that would change my life forever.


    ******

 4. J?tunn

    In gratitude for saving them, the village elder gave us the horse of one of the deceased travelers. It didn¡¯t change much for my companions - Bann already had a mare - but for me, it made life infinitely easier.


    We stayed in Apelfaund for another day, but the monk still couldn¡¯t summon the fox spirit. He warned the elder about the dragon and advised evacuating the village, only to receive a polite refusal. None of us were surprised by this reaction.


    This is their land. Their ancestors and children rest here. Besides, where can they possibly go?


    One of the merchants had died during the slaughter, and his colleague allowed us to take some supplies. Chao-Ri picked hygiene products, Bann grabbed warm blankets, and I set my sights on various spices. Thus, tragedy brought us a small windfall.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be called Ikke,¡± I muttered while stroking the mane of the horned bay horse.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± asked the old man, sitting on his mare as she drank from the river.


    ¡°It¡¯s my name spelled backward.¡±


    ¡°Not exactly brimming with creativity, are you?¡±


    ¡°Says the guy who named his companion after a dead dog,¡± I shot back, tightening my grip on the reins.


    ¡°A dog is man¡¯s best friend,¡± the old man replied smugly, rubbing his nose. ¡°You should take it as a compliment.¡±


    ¡°Keep your voices down; people are still sleeping,¡± Chao-Ri chided, tying supplies onto my horse¡¯s back.


    Her accent is strong, and she clearly feels self-conscious about it.


    She climbed onto the old man¡¯s horse, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.


    Before the sun rose, we set off.


    ******


    Fields of fescue quickly gave way to tulips, and soon sunflowers gleamed gold on the horizon. We followed the main road, flanked by sparse, half-naked groves. Eventually, my gaze caught strange indentations scattered across the hills. Only by looking up did I notice chunks of missing earth aimlessly floating in the sky.


    This happened because of some anomaly. It turned out that this world gets a lot of uninvited guests. Every time a dimensional rift opens, chaos erupts at some random point on the planet.


    But am I part of the same category? I don¡¯t think so. I¡¯ve traveled between worlds before without any rifts¡­


    When asked why this is happening, Bann couldn''t provide an answer because he didn''t know himself. But all of this is the result of an event long ago that turned the world inside out. The people call this event The Shambles.


    That day, an unprecedented collapse occurred. Like thunder from a clear sky, the world began to change. Anything the wildest imagination could conceive likely happened here. Clouds turned to magma? It happened. Entire mountains materializing where cities once stood? That too. Earthquakes, climate shifts, rivers flowing through the sky, invasive creatures, and sentient plants devouring people. This is just what the old man listed. The record of such a massive event is many times greater. People from all regions of the world still face the consequences of The Shambles to this day.


    ******


    Sitting by the nighttime campfire, I fed it twigs while Bann constructed earthen rooms for us to sleep in. Despite making almost no stops, we didn''t manage to reach the next settlement, so we had to camp at the edge of the forest.


    Chao-Ri handed me skewers of marinated purple mushrooms to roast. Meanwhile, she cleaned her musical instruments. We didn¡¯t have much food - just some salted meat, which the bard had nearly polished off on the road. Since none of us were hunters, today would be meatless. But according to Bann, Velisatia is synonymous with the word ¡°Hunt,¡± so fresh game could be found in almost any village.


    Most of the continent is forested, so locals have relied on bows for food for centuries. I wondered if the forest spirits they worshiped minded, but the monk explained it was quite the opposite.


    The spirits saw hunting as a natural part of life¡¯s cycle. People took only what they needed and always thanked the forest for its gifts. Hunters followed strict rules: never taking more than necessary, sparing young or pregnant animals, and always offering part of the catch to the spirits. Thus, hunting became a ritual that reinforced harmony between humans and nature.


    Gods, my mouth is watering! I watched the fragrant mushrooms roast. The smell was incredible - far better than the bland milk porridge I¡¯d eaten in Apelfaund.


    ¡°Ah, I really wanted some soup,¡± Bann said, finishing with the magic.


    The last time we saw a river was about five hours ago, and according to the monk''s map, there are no lakes nearby.


    ¡°Can''t you create water with magic?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You really don''t know anything about spirits, do you?¡± Cutting a piece from an apple, he ate it right off the knife, then sat down on a log across from me.


    ¡°Nah,¡± I shrugged, answering briefly.


    ¡°My people pray to the spirits of the Mountains, which is why I¡¯ve sought harmony with the local guardians since I was a child. Our bond is as unyielding as stone, and because of it, I cannot call upon the power of other spirits.¡±


    ¡°But you did try to talk to that fox spirit, didn¡¯t you?¡± I asked the obvious question.


    ¡°Casual conversation doesn¡¯t count. And even that becomes difficult if you¡¯re already bound by a pact with someone else. So, the only way I could reach out to the guardians here was through a trance. Chao-Ri music helps a lot with that. But even so, the fox didn¡¯t respond,¡± Bann said, giving up on slicing his apple and simply biting into it. ¡°And it¡¯s not the first. Apelfaund is the third village we¡¯ve passed where the guardian has vanished. That¡¯s not normal. Something strange is happening in these woods.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait, don¡¯t change the subject. You still haven¡¯t told me about the other spirits. I get that the Velisatians worship the forest, and your people worship the mountains. By the way, where are you from?¡± I bombarded him with a fresh wave of questions.


    ¡°Why so curious?¡± The bard¡¯s voice carried the same detached indifference. ¡°Planning to become a mage?¡±


    ¡°And what if I am?¡±


    She sighed heavily and turned away.


    ¡°If you didn¡¯t start connecting with spirits at an early age, you won¡¯t be able to form a bond with them now,¡± Bann explained.


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Without practice, the ability to sense chaos fades away from disuse,¡± he said, tossing his half-eaten apple to the horse.


    He¡¯d told me about chaos before. Apparently, it¡¯s the energy that saturates the entire world after The Shambles. For instance, it¡¯s because of the high concentration of chaos that those islands are floating in the sky. Only by mastering this wild energy can one wield magic.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I wanted to pepper the old man with more questions, but I decided to hold off. Unlike me, they get tired, and in this state, listening to my endless chatter must be unbearable.


    ******


    After eating, we scattered to the rooms built by the monk. The warm air that had gathered inside heated the walls, lending a faint sense of coziness. Once we settled in, Bann extinguished the fire and constructed the final wall, leaving a few holes for airflow. There¡¯s a simple reason for this: we might be attacked during the night. But I suspect there¡¯s more to it than just that.


    This is my first day on the road with them. Even though I¡¯ve given no reason to doubt me, the old man remains vigilant. And rightly so. In his eyes, I¡¯m still a stranger who just joined their group. For all he knows, I might try to rob them or, worse, slit their throats while they sleep.


    ******


    The fact that my brain can¡¯t get tired is a real curse. The same thoughts keep swirling in my head nonstop, making me want to puke. Though, come to think of it, that might be the mushrooms. Despite the smell, they tasted utterly disgusting. The apples back in Apelfaund weren¡¯t great either, though everyone else seemed to praise them. Is all the food in this world such utter garbage?


    I don¡¯t even want to think about it! I need to sleep, but I can¡¯t¡­ Boredom is killing me.


    And that¡¯s when I had a ¡°brilliant¡± idea. I closed my nose and mouth with my hands and held my breath. If my brain can¡¯t tire out, I¡¯ll just have to kill it.


    Yes, I suffocated myself to get some sleep. It was tough, but I managed.


    It was all for nothing. A couple of minutes later, I woke up again. My regeneration didn¡¯t take long.


    Maybe I should¡­ My hand drifted toward my pants, but I quickly gave up on that idea. In all the time I¡¯ve been in this world, nothing has stirred down there.


    I just want to cry.


    ***


    We resumed our journey with the first rays of sunlight. The road took us into another sequoia forest. The old man handed each of us a straw hat in case pinecones started falling. I wasn¡¯t sure if they¡¯d help, but at least I didn¡¯t have to worry about dents in my skull.


    The forest was eerily silent. No birdsong, no chirping insects. Just the occasional crack of branches in the distance and the rustle of leaves overhead. Eventually, we encountered some wildlife, though my companions didn¡¯t share my enthusiasm - the animals spooked the horses, sending them bolting like mad.


    The first one was a bear - or, at least, something resembling one. I don¡¯t know its actual name, but it looked closest to a grizzly: same size, brown fur, similar paws. But the head¡­ well, it had two. Each head had a single eye, and it had two noses oddly positioned just below where you¡¯d expect nipples to be. When it sniffed the air, those noses grotesquely extended, like an anteater¡¯s tongue. And its mouth? The entire belly was an open stomach lined with rows of jagged teeth, resembling the maw of some monstrous worm.


    Next, we were ambushed by a slimy monkey leaping between the trees, leaving a trail of sticky saliva behind it. Imagine a red-bottomed macaque fused with a snail. It even had a shell, from which tiny, squirming offspring peeked out. A pity, really - those young ones ended up orphaned. Bann had to take the creature down when it tried to leap onto a horse¡¯s head.


    The ones we didn¡¯t mess with were the migrating herd of gray boars, their bodies covered head to toe in warty growths. The scene reminded me of that moment in Princess Mononoke. We veered off the main road and climbed a hill, waiting for about an hour until they cleared out. Thankfully, the tusked beasts showed no interest in us.


    Watching them disappear into the distance, the monk looked troubled.


    ******


    By evening, we reached a crossroads with a signpost. The settlement we needed lay to the east.


    God, how I want a proper meal!


    ******


    Some time ago, we began hearing a loud, rhythmic noise that grew louder by the minute. The unpleasant vibrations frightened the horses, forcing us to lead them on foot, feeding them constantly to calm them.


    ¡°I heard people talking about this place back in Brajka,¡± Chao-Ri said during a rare lull in the sound.


    I had to wait for the sound to fade completely before replying.


    ¡°And what is it?!¡± I accidentally shouted, my ears still ringing from the noise.


    ¡°That''s j?tunn snoring,¡± she replied.


    If I remember correctly, j?tunns are giants. I¡¯d love to see one!


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve heard about them at a Brajka too,¡± Bann added.


    ¡°So you remember? I thought after that drinking spree, you¡¯d forgotten everything,¡± Chao-Ri teased.


    ¡°Haha! You¡¯re mistaken, my dear. That night, I was far from drunk. But even if I had been plastered, I would still remember such an interesting story!¡± The monk tilted his chin up proudly, trying to defend himself.


    ¡°You were definitely plastered.¡±


    ¡°Ten pints of fish ale wouldn¡¯t even phase me.¡±


    ¡°Oh really? Then why were you mumbling nonsense the whole time? And let¡¯s not forget how you pissed your pants by the end,¡± the bard snapped, giving him a furious glare.


    Whenever they bring up events that happened before I joined, I feel like an awkward third wheel.


    I never would have imagined he was a drunkard. But I made a mental note to have a pint with him when we reached the next town.


    ¡°So, are we going to see the sleeping j?tunn?¡± I asked, trying to diffuse the tension.


    ¡°No. If we approach the quarry where it¡¯s sleeping, the horses will bolt,¡± Bann replied.


    Bummer. But he was right. I didn¡¯t want Ikke getting even more spooked.


    ¡°At least tell me about it, then.¡±


    ¡°All right. Decades ago, a dimensional rift opened above Akutabi Quarry. A j?tunn fell through and broke its legs, which is why it couldn¡¯t crawl out,¡± Bann began.


    ¡°And how did it survive?¡± I interrupted.


    ¡°Listen and don¡¯t interrupt,¡± he said with a forced calm that barely concealed his annoyance. ¡°The quarry is home to giant meatworms. To this day, the j?tunn feeds on them to survive.¡±


    ¡°Are they so delicious she can¡¯t stop herself from eating? Is that why she¡¯s been stuck here for decades?¡± I quipped.


    ¡°Stop interrupting,¡± Bann repeated, his voice steady but his eyes burning with barely contained irritation. I got the message and zipped my lips. ¡°The worms aren¡¯t called ¡®meat¡¯ for nothing. While the j?tunn lay immobile, they¡¯ve been eating its legs. That¡¯s how they coexist - by devouring each other. Fascinating story, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Just like me in that zombie village. Only worse. Her body probably doesn¡¯t regenerate. And those worms¡­ unlike zombies, they digest and absorb what they eat. So basically, the j?tunn is eating herself.


    ¡°Nice try, drunkard, but you left out the best part,¡± Chao-Ri interjected, pointing her violin bow at Bann. ¡°A few years ago, in the caves dug by worms, people from the Blacksmith guild settled in! Their shells are made of the strongest steel, so it¡¯s no surprise they were drawn to the place.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense! I heard about that too, but I refuse to believe such rubbish. How do you imagine it?¡± Bann shot back.


    ¡°There¡¯s an entire network of tunnels underground, plenty of space for people!¡± Chao-Ri countered.


    ¡°That¡¯s not the issue. Chitin that even Arak¡¯kai can¡¯t penetrate? And you expect me to believe blacksmiths can? Go ahead, tell me they¡¯re smelting the steel right down there so I can fall over and laugh on the spot!¡±


    I know a little about their dynamic. Is it normal for their arguments to get this heated? Feels like they¡¯re about to tear each other¡¯s throats out. Or maybe this means they finally see me as one of their own, so they¡¯re comfortable showing their true selves.


    ¡°They are! Meatworms are brainless! The blacksmiths steal their eggs, strip the steel off the young ones, and smelt it right there!¡± Chao-Ri declared.


    Come on, Bann, fall down and laugh.


    ¡°And the j?tunn inhales black smoke to knock itself out! It dulls the pain from the bites! When it collapses, the ground splits, and the wind uproots trees!¡± she continued.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we just go see for ourselves?¡± I offered, tired of their bickering.


    ¡°Good idea, Ekki,¡± they both said in unison. ¡°Tie the horses,¡± Bann added.


    ¡°They won¡¯t get blown away with the trees when a giant falls, will they?¡± I joked.


    Their scowls told me now wasn¡¯t the time for humor.


    ******


    As I expected, it was all a farce.


    The only truth was the network of tunnels, which acted as a sort of acoustic system. And even that was likely the result of erosion, not worms.


    The caves¡¯ narrow and wide passages enhanced air movement, creating a resonance effect. Narrow sections worked like nozzles, speeding up airflow and amplifying the sound. That was the source of the j?tunn¡¯s ¡°snoring.¡±


    In a world full of chaos, it¡¯s easy to believe in such absurdities. But this time, it was just some drunkard¡¯s tale.


    Without resolving their argument, we continued our journey in silence.

 5. End of the Prologue

    The settlement we arrived at just as night fell was called Bereka.


    It didn¡¯t differ much from Apelfaund, except that birches grew around it instead of apple trees, and the town itself was a bit larger. Bereka also stood by a river, though here it was about ten times wider, and even now, locals were still fishing. In the moonlight, you could spot a couple of boats drifting lazily in the distance. Perhaps some fish could only be caught at night.


    There were no lanterns in the town, but the street was decently lit by the glow from the windows of the houses. We made our way to the loudest, brightest place - the tavern.


    Bann entered first, after which a man came out to us and led the horses to the stable.


    The tavern greeted us with a thick smell of fish, spilled ale, and damp wood. It was cramped inside but nearly empty - five men sat at two roughly hewn tables. They drank, chatting animatedly, their laughter echoing against the low ceiling. One of them lifted his head, glanced at us briefly, and returned his attention to his mug. Behind the counter stood a sweating, bloated pitcher, but there was no sign of the innkeeper. However, noises came from the basement, so he was probably fetching a new batch of booze.


    As we took a seat at an empty table, Bann pulled out a pouch of colorful stones and started counting them.


    In Apelfaund, there had been a pagoda where they had sheltered us for free and even fed us. Here we¡¯d have to pay for everything.


    ¡°Why stones?¡± I asked.


    ¡°What?¡± the bald man replied, puzzled.


    I wasn¡¯t used to seeing anything other than coins used for transactions, and since they had no alternative currency, my question seemed odd to him.


    ¡°I mean, why are these stones valuable? What makes them currency?¡±


    ¡°How should I know?¡±


    Taking a closer look, I noticed that all the stones were roughly the same faceted shape. Their sizes varied, though. Someone out there was actually cutting every edge on these things. That¡¯s one job I wouldn¡¯t want.


    ¡°What¡¯s the lowest-value stone?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Ten red bato equals one green. A hundred green equals one blue. And it takes a thousand blue bato to make one gold. But I¡¯ve never seen a gold one in my life.¡±


    One gold - that¡¯s, what, a million red? I could already picture some rich guy walking into a bank with a tiny stone and leaving with fifty bags full.


    The door to the basement opened, and that¡¯s when we saw the innkeeper for the first time. His entrance wasn¡¯t exactly impressive - he got stuck in the doorway due to his size. Fortunately, his slick, fish-like skin helped him squeeze through quickly. Once he secured a barrel to the wall, he stepped behind the counter.


    To put it bluntly, he looked like a humanoid catfish. Same eyes, same whiskers, and the same enormous, terrifying mouth. He wasn¡¯t tall but was impressively wide. A dirty, worn apron stretched over his bloated, gray belly, and while his hands looked swollen, they seemed muscular on closer inspection.


    Belching grotesquely, he noticed us.


    ¡°Guests?!¡± His tiny eyes bulged, and he jumped in surprise, knocking several empty mugs to the floor. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t see you right away.¡±


    He shuffled over to our table, ready to take our order.


    ¡°What¡¯s on the menu?¡± the old man asked.


    ¡°Not much to choose from. Fried crucian carp with boiled potatoes or eels soaked in vinegar with pickled onions. Caught them myself, by the way!¡± He stuck out a long tongue, showing burn marks on it.


    What was that supposed to mean? The eel electrocuted him? Wait, does that mean he catches fish by swallowing them whole? I wonder if he just holds them in his mouth or if he actually swallows them and spits them back up.


    Even imagining it didn¡¯t kill my appetite. I¡¯d had worse things in my mouth.


    The monk glanced at me and the girl.


    ¡°Crucian carp with potatoes and pickled onions,¡± I said first, a hint of hesitation in my voice.


    Chao-Ri nodded, agreeing to the same.


    ¡°I won¡¯t stand out; I¡¯ll join the youngsters,¡± the old man said, casting a sidelong glance at the barrel the innkeeper had brought up earlier. ¡°And three mugs of fish beer.¡±


    As the catfish turned his back to us, I noticed he had a tiny tail. It wagged in the funniest way.


    ******


    This was the first delicious meal I¡¯d tasted in this world. The beer, though¡­ Its foul, black appearance turned out to be a spot-on preview of its even worse taste. As I drank it, I learned how it was made. In short, it¡¯s a fermented sludge produced by crushing fish eyes. The muck is strained, mixed with water and some kind of fungi, and voil¨¤ - a hellish concoction is ready. After a couple of sips, I handed it over to the old man, who graciously accepted my ¡°generosity¡± without a second thought. Though, to be fair, he was the one footing the bill, so calling it generosity would be a stretch.


    I¡¯m itching to reach a larger town to find some work. The road ahead is long, and I don¡¯t want Bann to keep covering all the expenses.


    After we finished eating, the catfish joined us. Over my lifetime, I¡¯ve seen plenty of unbelievable things. The fact that the wooden chair held up under this guy definitely ranks in my personal top 10. By the way, people like him are called seiras. They even have their own settlements. Those who want to socialize and form relationships with other races move to land and build villages along rivers. The more solitary types stay underwater in lakes.


    ¡°Well, how was it?¡±


    ¡°It was tasty,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± the monk said, folding his hands in a respectful nod. He then pulled out his purse, ready to pay.


    ¡°Hold your horses,¡± the catfish said, surprising us. ¡°Missy, you¡¯re a bard, right?¡± He was staring intently at Chao-Ri.


    ¡°What, planning a duel?¡± Bann interjected, knowing full well she wasn¡¯t going to answer.


    ¡°Yes. I and that bearded guy over there,¡± he gestured with a fin-like finger toward a man at a nearby table, ¡°have been at it for months without resolution. We need an epic duel to put an end to this once and for all.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s strong enough to match you? Doesn¡¯t look like it,¡± I remarked, giving the bearded man an appraising glance.


    I didn¡¯t envy him. Going head-to-head with this hulking mass? One wrong move, and you could lose an arm.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a compliment,¡± seira said, smiling as he stroked his wiggling whiskers. ¡°So, will you help us?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s late. Can¡¯t this wait until tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Old man, don¡¯t worry about it. The neighbors are used to our nighttime scuffles.¡±


    ¡°A bard¡¯s services don¡¯t come cheap,¡± I cut in, deciding to negotiate.


    ¡°How much? A room for three, plus your meal. I can even throw in something for the road.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget about the horses,¡± I added.


    ¡°Deal?¡± Despite negotiating with us, he extended his hand to the bard as the final decision rested with her.


    Noticing her hesitation, he wiped his damp hand on his apron.


    In the end, a weary Chao-Ri reluctantly shook his hand.


    ******


    If this is meant to be a final duel, I assume they¡¯ll fight to the death. Which means¡­ digging another grave? Yeah, I¡¯m definitely rooting for seira. If he loses, we¡¯ll have to drag his bulk to the cemetery. Nope, not doing that. I¡¯d bury him right in the road and not give a damn what anyone thinks.


    At the innkeeper¡¯s request, the bard was supposed to play her lute. Out of her three instruments, only the lute could add the necessary ¡°epic¡± touch to their clash.


    ¡°Well then, bring it on!¡± the catfish bellowed, belching loudly.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    The innkeeper¡¯s assistant went behind the counter - presumably for weapons? Meanwhile, the bearded man started rubbing his hands together.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing this right here?¡± Bann asked, surprised.


    ¡°Where else would we? The street?¡±


    The monk¡¯s expression plainly read, ¡°Everywhere,¡± but when the assistant pulled out a game board and cards from behind the counter, that expression vanished.


    ¡°So you¡¯re playing cards?¡± I asked.


    ¡°What, you thought we¡¯d fight? Ha-ha-ha!¡± the catfish chuckled, twirling his whiskers. ¡°One fart from me would knock the poor guy out cold,¡± he said, glancing at the bearded man. ¡°In Bereka, we settle disputes over the game board.¡±


    ¡°And why do you need a bard for that?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re playing the blitz version.¡±


    ¡°And how does that change anything?¡±


    ¡°Changes everything. You¡¯ll see.¡±


    ******


    And so, to the lively sounds of a lute, the two of them began their card game, occasionally moving pieces on the board. In the twenty minutes the game lasted, I never figured out the rules - except that in the blitz version, turns were timed. But I have to admit, it looked genuinely epic. In the heat of the match, the catfish inexplicably yawned often. I half-expected him to swallow his opponent whole.


    For the record, they still couldn¡¯t determine a winner.


    ******


    Since the city of Okan wasn¡¯t far, we decided not to linger in this village.


    But before we reached the city, we stumbled upon a truly bizarre place.


    A lake - completely filled with white liquid.


    ¡°It¡¯s not on my map,¡± Bann noted.


    The lake¡¯s surface was littered with animal bones. While Chao-Ri stepped away for a bathroom break, the old man and I stayed alone by the shore. Driven by curiosity, I lightly touched the water¡¯s surface to check if it was acidic. Realizing there was no danger, I went further, plunging my hand in this time. I felt something like an electric current, slowly spreading from my fingertips through my body. Surprisingly pleasant.


    Scooping up some sediment, I examined it closely. Thick and slippery, but it left no residue as it dripped away.


    It reminded me of something.


    Slapping the water¡¯s surface, I met resistance. Just as I thought. This entire lake was made of non-Newtonian fluid. Move slowly, and it lets you in. Add sudden force, and it resists. No wonder there were so many bones here. This liquid was a perfect trap for foolish animals. One wrong step, and it starts swallowing you. Panic makes escape impossible.


    ¡°Am I seeing things, or is there something out there?¡± Bann asked, squinting at the center of the lake.


    From beneath the water, tentacles protruded. From this distance, it was impossible to make out any details.


    Looking at it from another angle, the whole situation was just insane. White liquid and tentacles¡­ I knew a couple of guys who¡¯d appreciate this combo.


    ¡°An entire lake transported here by a dimensional rift?¡± I asked the monk, though the answer seemed obvious.


    ¡°I can¡¯t see another explanation. And it probably happened recently. My map is dated to 989. Twelve years ago, this was just an ordinary plain.¡±


    Oh, so it¡¯s 1001 now? What a beautiful number! Though it''s a shame I didn¡¯t arrive here for the Millennium Celebration.


    ******


    And so, finally, we approached the city. It was still a couple of kilometers away, but the tall wooden walls were already visible from here. There were even tall towers, and it seemed they were made of stone, which was rare for this place.


    At last, our journey would slow down. Only in fairy tales, where tedious moments are skipped for the sake of the plot, does traveling seem like something fun. Constant pain in the ass and groin from uneven roads. Scenery so repetitive it¡¯s only occasionally broken up by something genuinely interesting. Hardly any conversation because the wind¡¯s always in your face, and let¡¯s not forget the risk of biting your tongue.


    In short, we were ready to settle down for a while, primarily to make some money. It¡¯s not every day you find free lodging, and a financial cushion was essential.


    At a crossroads, we stumbled upon yet another curious sight. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people had gathered on a meadow near the main road. They¡¯d spread out blankets and food everywhere, like they were having some massive picnic. The sheer number of them made our horses slow to a cautious pace.


    ¡°Wait!¡± A plump middle-aged woman called out as we passed the crowd. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend heading to the city right now!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± Bann asked.


    ¡°The Champion is arriving soon!¡± she replied, her voice brimming with excitement.


    The monk didn¡¯t share her enthusiasm. His brows shot up, and he seemed momentarily lost for words.


    ¡°What Champion?¡± I whispered to Chao-Ri.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t heard of that either?¡± she whispered back.


    ¡°As you can see, no.¡±


    ¡°Ask Bann. I don¡¯t feel like explaining,¡± she said, deliberately turning away to avoid my eager gaze.


    ¡°Hey¡­ hey¡­¡±


    ¡°One drunkard insulted the King, and another recited a poem. And now here we are,¡± the woman interrupted, gesturing toward a spot where her large family was sitting. ¡°Join us if you¡¯d like. I can share some food with you.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for the invitation, but we¡¯ll have to decline,¡± Bann replied, forcing a polite smile.


    We moved off the road and dismounted our horses.


    ¡°Hey, Bann, what¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Lower your voice,¡± he said without even looking at me.


    I was already speaking quietly. Or was I supposed to whisper? Something strange is going on. Even during the anomaly battle, he hadn¡¯t seemed this tense.


    ¡°I¡¯ll explain this once, and once only. Don¡¯t bring it up again. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I scratched the back of my head.


    ¡°Never - and I mean never - speak ill of the King. No, scratch that. Don¡¯t mention him at all. Understand?¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    ¡°He rules the world. The one and only absolute.¡±


    ¡°The King of Velisatia rules the world?¡± I asked, incredulous.


    Isn''t that giving him too much credit?


    ¡°Velisatia has nothing to do with it. The kingdoms are ruled by princes and princesses, but in truth, they¡¯re powerless. If the King wishes, no one will even remember their existence by tomorrow. From his golden fortress, he silently observes everything happening below. The world as we know it exists only because it pleases him.¡±


    Wait¡­ the fortress with the floating manta rays?


    ¡°Look! The Champion is here!¡± someone from the crowd shouted, pointing to the sky.


    Speak of the devil...


    Slicing through the clouds, a manta ray zipped through the air at astonishing speed.


    ¡°And who are the Champions?¡± I asked my final question.


    ¡°Those who earned a place in the heavens through their strength. To summon them, you recite a special poem.¡±


    ¡°Did you tie that bastard¡¯s ropes tightly enough?¡± I overheard a snippet of conversation in the crowd.


    ¡°Afraid the criminal might escape? Don¡¯t worry. Even if he somehow gets free, there¡¯s no avoiding heavenly punishment.¡±


    ¡°He jumped! He jumped!¡± one of the Champion¡¯s fans squealed with joy, practically beside himself with excitement.


    Jumped from where? Oh, so the Champions ride manta rays? Cool. But did he really jump? I couldn¡¯t see anything. How could anyone spot something at that distance?


    A wave of applause swept across the meadow.


    ¡°I love you, Champ!¡±


    ¡°Give me your autograph!¡±


    ¡°I want to have kids with you!¡±


    ¡°Fool, he won''t hear you!¡±


    Amid the roaring cheers, the city of Okan was wiped off the face of the earth.


    The shockwave from the Champion¡¯s landing leveled the entire city, leaving nothing but rubble.


    A deathly silence swept over the plain. Not everyone believed their eyes at first.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°That can¡¯t be!¡±


    ¡°AAAAAA!¡±


    ¡°My father! He¡¯s still in the city!¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°There were still people there!¡±


    ¡°Mom! Mommy!¡±


    The locals¡¯ excitement turned to agony in an instant. None of them had expected this outcome. They¡¯d gathered for a spectacle and ended up losing everything.


    The rising mushroom cloud of dust reminded me of the day I first died. The day I learned that the life of an ordinary person was worthless.


    ¡°Fucking bastards.¡±


    Shit¡­ I let my emotions get the better of me. I hadn¡¯t meant to say it out loud. Luckily, with all the noise, no one seemed to hear me.


    At least, that¡¯s what I thought.


    Moments later, I saw a shadow moving toward us. Before I could even react, the Champion''s fist was in my face. It was the last thing I saw before the contents of my skull splattered across the meadow.


    ******


    AAAAAA!


    God! It hurts!


    I¡¯ve never felt anything like this before!


    It¡¯s as if every nerve in my body was ripped out and slowly, excruciatingly wound onto a knife!


    But I¡¯m just a consciousness! How is this possible?!


    Why does it hurt so much?!


    My soul is literally being torn apart! No physical pain compares to this!


    AAAAAA!


    Enough! I beg you!


    My essence is breaking into billions of pieces! I feel the pain of each one! Then they start to come back together, and it repeats over and over again.


    ******


    When I opened my eyes, I couldn¡¯t close them again. A strange hum filled my ears. My whole body shook, and even breathing became nearly impossible.


    Thankfully, the fear dissipated quickly. But just thinking about that bastard¡¯s fist made my back break out in goosebumps.


    So¡­ where am I? Why is it night already? Regrowing a head shouldn¡¯t have taken this long.


    Gradually, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I noticed that most of my body was buried in the ground.


    A handful of dry soil fell onto my chest. I was being buried alive.


    I could hear two voices, but I couldn¡¯t make out their words - my ears were still ringing.


    It makes sense to assume it¡¯s Bann and Chao-Ri. Unless they¡¯ve been killed too? I hope not. I want to keep traveling with them. If it really is them, then I¡¯ll need to confess. Tell them about my immortality, but I don¡¯t know how to justify it. Would I have to admit I¡¯m an anomaly?


    Am I ready for this? Do I trust them that much?


    Screw it! Let¡¯s do this!


    But before I could utter a single word, a migraine overtook me, so intense it felt like something inside my skull was swelling¡­


    And then¡­ bursting.


    I died again before I could warn my companions.


    ******


    In the end, I was buried alive.