《Blood of Titans》 1. Surprise It was supposed to be just another day for me. My alarm had gone off at the usual time, and after a heroic and grueling battle with my blanket and its loyal companion, the pillow, I finally managed to drag myself out of bed, moving on autopilot toward the kitchen. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, promising me a semblance of comfort and normality before the day¡¯s demands took over. Coffee, that magnificent drink of the gods, your only true friend in the morning. A kingdom for a cup of coffee. But just as I reached for my cup, my entire world changed. A blinding flash of light filled my vision, forcing me to close my eyes instinctively. My body felt weightless for a moment, as though gravity had momentarily ceased to exist. For a brief while, I existed in that state, enveloped by surrounding darkness. It was a strange sensation, as if someone had cut off my senses and left me alone with nothing but my consciousness. The comforting feeling that accompanied it invited me to surrender, to dissolve into this wonderful state. But just as suddenly as it began, the moment ended when, unexpectedly, I felt an unknown force grab hold of my awareness and then yank it away. I faded out like a candle being blown out. Everything I was and everything I could have become ceased to exist. How long did it last? I have no idea. All I know is that suddenly, I woke up. When my sight returned, along with the rest of my senses, I found myself in an unfamiliar place. The warm rays of the summer sun caressed my face while simultaneously blinding my eyes, forcing me to squint. I wanted to voice my protest against such an unpleasant awakening, but instead of articulated speech, what escaped my mouth was something that, by even the most liberal definition, could not be classified as human speech. It sounded more like the dying gasp of an ailing coal miner on his deathbed. And I must say, it was quite convincing. The awful sensation was accompanied by a terrible dryness in my throat and an overwhelming thirst, an unbearable craving to moisten my lips with even the tiniest drop of life-giving liquid. In short, I desperately needed water. Damn, I¡¯m thirsty. And of course, at that exact moment, my treacherous mind decided to remind me of the cup of coffee I never got to taste, filling me with anger at this terrible, utterly undeserved injustice. Filled with righteous fury, I instinctively tried to move¡ªwhich turned out to be a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. A sharp, unpleasant pain shot through my body, coupled with a sensation of complete exhaustion and a series of dull, throbbing aches in my muscles and joints, spreading like ripples in a lake after someone had thrown a stone into it. A big stone. I lay there for a while, trying to outlast the cascade of unpleasant attacks on my poor, innocent body, when I realized that something wasn¡¯t right. Something was very, very not right. My first clue was the annoyingly cheerful chirping of birds, which was getting on my nerves. I was suffering here, and these irritating little sparrows¡­ Wait were they sparrows? Or titmouse? Or something else entirely? In my defense, I¡¯m not an ornithologist, so how would I know? Let¡¯s just say they were sparrows. So, these little bastards were happily chirping away while I lay there in agony on the cold, damp grass. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It must have been early morning because the dew hadn¡¯t evaporated yet. Wait a minute! I opened my eyes wider, stirred by a sudden and unpleasant thought. Just moments ago, I had been in my kitchen, brewing coffee to face another day of struggle in this never ending battle for basic human needs otherwise known as work. So why the hell was I lying on the bare ground, listening to birdsong? Gently, carefully, like a bomb disposal expert defusing a particularly devious and treacherous explosive, I began to look around¡ªand I have to say, what I saw made me forget about my pain and thirst for a moment. Because I was clearly lying in the middle of a clearing, surrounded on all sides by a dense forest. But that wasn¡¯t the shocking part¡ªor rather, not the only shocking part. Because I was sharing this clearing with what appeared, at first glance, to be looted and damaged wagons. Yes, I swear they were wagons. As if straight out of a historical reenactment or a medieval caravan. And, of course, bodies. Mutilated, lifeless human bodies. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to grasp the sheer insanity of the situation I had found myself in and trying to calm my mind. Surely, as soon as I opened my eyes again, I would see my apartment. After all, rationally speaking, this had to be just a dream. An exceptionally vivid dream. Once again, I carefully opened my eyes, but despite my efforts, the unthinkable reality refused to disappear. And that was when the smell of death hit me. Yeah, that deep breath wasn¡¯t the best idea. I grimaced slightly, and despite the absurdity of my current situation, I decided to accept my surroundings. After all, as the saying goes¡ªif you can¡¯t beat them, join them. Slowly, cautiously, I began to move, careful not to strain my aching muscles, but I quickly realized that I was in much better condition than I had initially thought. Strange. It was as if my state had drastically improved over time, which I welcomed with both relief and concern. Concern because it was definitely not normal. Oh well¡ªjust another stone to add to the ever-growing mountain of absurdity that was my current predicament. Breaking away from my thoughts, I focused on better examining the battlefield. Apart from the three destroyed wagons, scattered all over the ground were human corpses in various states. I counted eleven bodies, eight of whom were armed. Most of them resembled medieval knights, with a smaller group of more lightly armored fighters. Probably scouts, though I wasn¡¯t sure. What I was sure of, however, was that a battle had taken place here¡ªor, more accurately, one side of the conflict had been utterly and completely massacred. The attackers weren¡¯t wild animals, either¡ªthat was evident from the wounds on the slain defenders and the fact that the caravan had been looted. After all, wild animals don¡¯t ransack well-armed caravans. Or at least, wild animals didn¡¯t loot caravans in the reality I knew. So, the most likely scenario was an ambush. The question now was whether it was just a robbery that turned into a slaughter, or a planned assassination that was meant to look like a robbery gone wrong. Hmmm¡­ My contemplation of the attackers¡¯ motives was suddenly interrupted by a glorious sight. Lying next to one of the unfortunate corpses was a real, honest-to-god canteen. I licked my cracked lips, and with a quick yet unsteady step¡ªone that betrayed the extent of my hope and desire¡ªI approached it. With hands trembling like those of a lifelong alcoholic reaching for his last bottle, I grasped the canteen. Heavy. I can¡¯t even begin to describe the relief I felt at that moment. It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders and replaced with the hope that everything would be okay¡ªthat the world was, in fact, good. Even the birdsong, which had previously been a torment, now seemed pleasant and cheerful. I smiled at the thought and, with a swift motion, opened the canteen, taking deep, greedy gulps of water. I drank eagerly, rejoicing in the cool liquid. And after quenching my thirst, still basking in that wonderful blissful state, I looked at the canteen again. Hmm, it was kind of big, a little too big. I furrowed my brow, realizing that I might have overlooked something. Something important. I looked around once more and realized that everything around me was oddly out of proportion, as if oversized. I shifted my gaze to my own body¡­ And out of my mouth escaped simple, calm words. ¡°You''ve got to be fucking shitting me!¡± 2. Calm I was calm. "Motherfucker!" Very calm. "Son of a bitch!" Calmness filled my body and mind, like a slow-moving river on a beautiful sunny summer day. Yes. My thoughts drifted toward the person responsible for the current situation, whoever they might be, and I must admit, I let my imagination run wild. I wanted to meet this person. Of course, I didn¡¯t mean anything drastic¡ªjust a peaceful, friendly conversation to clear up some minor misunderstandings. Why, then, did I imagine my guest lying strapped to a rough wooden table with thick leather belts as I slowly laid out inquisitorial tools, explaining their functions and uses in detail? Well, that was purely for better mutual understanding¡ªand to make sure the poor soul wouldn¡¯t hurt himself before we even started our discussion. After all, health is the most important thing! And why did I picture myself slowly heating the iron tools in a fire? Obviously, to ensure a proper level of comfort and warmth during our oh-so-fruitful exchange of words and to stimulate my guest¡¯s intellectual capabilities. After all, it''s the host''s duty to create the right atmosphere, and I intended to be very thorough about that. Yes, I was a beacon of calm. I looked again at my body¡ªor rather, the body of the young boy I now inhabited. At a glance, he was between nine and twelve years old before some unexpected guests ended his existence, along with that of the other poor souls around me. Why the age range? Well, because many factors affect a child''s growth at that age. Illnesses for once, lack of nutrition and many other, but I must say this body didn¡¯t seem malnourished. Sigh... Brilliant. I woke up in the body of a young kid, in the middle of a clearing littered with the corpses of my recent travel companions, deep in a forest in an unknown place. Just fucking brilliant. It was also becoming painfully clear that this wasn¡¯t my world anymore. Sure, the clothing and condition of my companions should''ve been enough to erase all doubts, but as they say, hope dies last. And mine was flickering out. Slowly the realization was sinking in that I¡¯d have to make do with the cards I¡¯d been dealt. And let¡¯s not kid ourselves¡ªno one was coming to save me. Being a connoisseur of fantasy, fiction, or just a good book, I was of course familiar with similar situations like this. But there¡¯s a big difference between reading about something and living it. Or in my case, living it in someone''s borrowed body. And since we¡¯re on the topic of isekai or reincarnation¡ªbecause I assume something like that happened to me. I planned to use all the knowledge at my disposal to maximize my chances for survival in this strange new world. Stolen novel; please report. So, I started by trying to contact the soul of the boy who had previously inhabited this body. I don¡¯t know what I expected. Maybe just some basic information or perhaps I didn¡¯t want to be completely alone out here. Although, on second thought, a moody pre-teen constantly judging my decisions didn¡¯t seem like the ideal travel companion. But that wasn¡¯t the fate written for me. Despite my efforts and deep focus, no one answered. No goddess or guardian spirit showed up either. So, I was left with one remaining option. But before I could utter the words I was admittedly a bit afraid of, my stomach voiced its loud protest. A sharp pang of hunger snapped me back to reality. And I immediately scolded myself. What the hell am I doing? Standing around like some idiot, daydreaming about fantasy beings instead of searching the wagons and bodies for anything that could help me survive in this forest. Not to mention that the corpses were bound to attract scavengers, and given the likely magical nature of this world, an encounter with the local wildlife would probably end badly for me. So, driven by hunger and a healthy dose of paranoia, or is it really paranoia if they are out to get you? I began methodically and thoroughly searching the wagons and corpses, fully channeling my inner loot goblin. For the uninitiated, that means acquiring¡ªI mean, taking temporary custody of¡ªanything not nailed down to the ground in at least three different ways. After fulfilling the sacred duty of every adventurer, I reviewed my haul. It was rather modest, but I had only picked through what was left after the initial looting. I was now the proud owner of a leather backpack, into which I packed a small supply of food¡ªmostly dried and, surprisingly, seasoned meat, and a second full canteen that had somehow survived intact. I also found a pouch with a few copper and silver coins. How that wasn¡¯t taken already was beyond me. And of course two blankets¡ªone for bedding and the other for warmth. Additionally, I found a hunting knife with a sheath and a leather belt. After adjusting and cutting it to proper size, I strapped it on and attached the knife. That¡¯s where the good news ended. While examining the clothes of my former travel companions, I noticed something unsettling¡ªmy outfit was noticeably different from theirs, and unfortunately, not in a bad way. This meant I could be the son of a wealthy merchant or worse, a minor noble. The thought alone sent shivers down my spine. Being high-born draws attention, and attention was the last thing I needed. And considering that I was the only kid in the caravan to survive while all my guards perished? Yeah some would call it miraculous, others suspicious but no matter what people would ask questions. Questions I didn¡¯t have answers for. So, for my peace of mind and frankly my own health I decided it was better to lay low. With my new belongings in tow, I approached the edge of the forest, mentally preparing for what lay ahead. There was a slim chance that this world, following classic fantasy logic, had some kind of system managing classes, skills, abilities, attributes, and of course, magic. Not that this thought brought me much comfort¡ªbecause if I had such a system, then why wouldn¡¯t everyone else had it too? Unless I was somehow special¡­ but given the place and circumstances in which I woke up, I highly doubted that. So, I took a deep breath and decided not to delay the inevitable. I summoned the word Menu in my mind. Nothing happened. I tried Interface and Inventory. Still nothing. Feeling the metaphorical executioner¡¯s axe hanging over my neck, I closed my eyes and, resigned to my fate, uttered a single word in my mind: Status. 3. Status Transparent, glowing letters appeared in my field of vision, heralding what I had feared. Status window. And there it was, in all its glory. Name: Eryk Race: Human Rank: Common Body: Lesser Mind: Lesser Soul: Lesser Mana Core: None Aura Veins: None Traits: None Skills: None Well, I¡¯m fucked. Apparently, in my previous life¡ªbecause that¡¯s how I started thinking of Earth and everything I left behind¡ªI must have offended some deity or stepped on the toes of some unknown being responsible for reincarnation and world assignment. Not only did I have no skills or traits, but I also ended up in a world with cultivation elements. The worst possible combination. For a moment, I imagined a mix of a self-absorbed noble brat with an arrogant young master, and I must admit that image didn¡¯t fill me with optimism. And if it turned out that such personalities were in charge of what passed for a government here, then my initial opinion was entirely justified. I was royally fucked. The only way out of this mess seemed to be a quick and intense training montage. Without overwhelming strength, I¡¯d be at the mercy of those stronger than me, and knowing how these situations usually go, I couldn¡¯t count on much kindness. Although, maybe my opinion was unfair. After all, this was real life, not some fantasy tale. Maybe the rulers of this land were just and benevolent towards the masses they governed? A sudden burst of laughter bent me in half, and when I finally composed myself, I wiped the tears from my eyes, grinning widely. I shook my head, wondering how such a naive thought even crossed my mind. I blamed stress and the bizarre circumstances I¡¯d found myself in. I swear, I¡¯m not that mentally challenged. Please believe me. For some reason, people in power always seem to crave more power¡ªfor the greater good, of course. And it¡¯s fascinating how passionately they try to convince everyone that if only they, the chosen ones, held absolute power over everyone around them, eternal peace and prosperity would finally reign. The fact that no one has ever achieved this somehow never counts as a valid argument against it. Honestly, missionaries could learn a thing or two from them about true zeal. So, the only way to gain any form of autonomy was through overwhelming strength. And that meant facing the harsh reality¡ªI needed to devote all my non-survival focused attention to training. Long, grueling, brutal training. Unfortunately, I could only rely on my frail body and iron will. Just like the saying goes, "If you can count, count on yourself." Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. I turned my attention to the description of my status and began analyzing the information presented. The first thing I noticed was, of course, my Rank:Common. I assumed this was the lowest possible tier, as I couldn¡¯t imagine anything beneath it. I had no clue what influenced this rank, but I instinctively understood that it would be better for me if it were higher when encountering what passed for civilization here. But since I didn¡¯t know how to change it, I decided not to focus on it for now. Next was Body, which, as the name suggested, probably related to physical stats like strength, agility, and endurance. Mind was less obvious, though I assumed it dealt with analytical abilities, reaction time, and maybe even learning speed. And finally Soul, no clue what it governed, but drawing from fantasy knowledge, it was often the reservoir for abilities and skills. But that was just speculation. What wasn¡¯t speculation was the Lesser level listed for all three. Hmm, was Lesser below or above Common, or was it an entirely different scale? The natives of this world could probably answer that, but for obvious reasons, I preferred to avoid contact for now. The same applied to the Skills and Traits I didn¡¯t have any idea how to obtain them. In games, skills usually unlocked through actions, and traits through achievements. But this wasn¡¯t a game, and the system might work completely different. Damn. Then there was the Mana Core and Aura Veins. From everything I knew, the mana core was a concentrated sphere of controlled mana within the body of an aspiring mage. Typically, only mages had one, and its size, density, and purity determined how much fuel they had in the tank¡ªif I can use such a crude analogy. The fact that I didn¡¯t have one wasn¡¯t surprising. Forming a stable mana core usually elevated someone to a higher social tier and required years of training and meditation. Plus, you only got one shot¡ªif you failed to control that amount of mana inside your body, the consequences were disastrous, often fatal, even for those well enough to afford support from magic adepts. And guess what? That kind of help was usually only available to noble-born children. Unless you were a natural talent. In that case, you¡¯d quickly get adopted by a noble family and become part of the privileged class. And so the cycle continued. This meant my first priority was clear¡ªcreate a mana core. I wasn¡¯t worried about success. Even though I had the body of a young boy, my mind and will belonged to an adult, and with the knowledge from dozens of books describing the process, I was, not to brag, fairly confident I could pull it off. Which brought me to the last point¡ªAura Veins. Honestly, I had no clue what they were, aside from the fact that I didn¡¯t have them. I¡¯d never encountered anything like this in any literature. I knew what Aura was, of course, but how it connected to these veins? No idea. I also understood the difference between Mana and Aura. Mana naturally influenced the world around you and was used for external effects, though higher-level mages could channel it inside their bodies. On the other hand, warriors¡ªoften called Enforcers¡ªused aura internally to enhance their strength, speed, and stamina, performing feats far beyond human limits. Only at advanced levels could they project aura outward, much like mages used mana. So, mana and aura were like mirror images¡ªone worked mainly externally, the other internally. But how did the aura veins fit into this? A wild thought crossed my mind. What if they were like qi roots from cultivation stories? Maybe they needed to be unlocked, then slowly expanded and tempered to allow greater energy flow? Could that be the key? Well, all I could do was hope that long, undoubtedly painful sessions filled with trial and error would eventually pay off. After all, hope dies last. 4. Sweet Dreams So, having roughly defined my goals for the future, I returned to the present and its rather mundane demands. The first of these, of course, was to satisfy my hunger, which I did by slowly chewing on strips of the previously found dried, seasoned meat. I must say, the old saying is true: "Hunger is the best cook." Despite the simplicity of the meal and the fact that its texture resembled chewing on an old boot rather than enjoying a refined feast, the pleasure this modest meal gave me was exquisite. With a slightly dreamy expression on my face, I began my journey into the unknown. Staying in this clearing would have meant certain death due to the nearby predators, but wandering aimlessly through the forest wasn¡¯t exactly filling me with optimism either. The difference was that I had a purpose now¡ªa water source. To survive, I needed to find a stream or even a river and build a shelter nearby, preferably before sunset. Why not right by the river? Ha, rookie mistake. The river was a source of life but also a source of danger. Predators need to drink too, and I didn¡¯t want them dropping by to pay me a visit. Not to mention the obvious risk of unwanted guests emerging from the water to drag me into its depths. Yeah, I¡¯d left behind the safe world with all its conveniences, and it was something I needed to constantly remember. A lack of caution¡ªor sometimes just plain bad luck¡ªcould be fatal. After all, for most of our history, humans were the hunted, at least until our ancestors mastered their environment and, through tools and the beginnings of primitive technology, dominated the local ecosystem, climbing to the top of the predator pyramid. In short, nature is cruel, and I had to keep that in mind. As I wandered through the forest, warmed by the gentle summer sun, I pondered humanity¡¯s place in nature when, in the distance, I heard the murmur of a stream¡ªor at least I hoped that¡¯s what it was. Pleased with my discovery, I cautiously approached the water source, but despite my worst expectations, nothing attacked me. Now, I had to decide: should I set up camp here or risk heading upstream, hoping to find a more suitable shelter? Fuck it. The sun was pleasantly warm, and judging by its position, it was still before noon, so why not? Keeping the stream within sight, I headed northwest. After a few hours, a bit tired, I finally found the perfect place for shelter. It felt like the merciful hand of fate was rewarding my efforts with this gift. Before me was a small crevice in the rock of a nearby cliff. Small enough that no large animal should be living inside but big enough for me to fit in, offering protection from wind and rain. In a word¡ªperfect. I approached it cautiously, scanning my surroundings. You never know what kind of crap you might step into if you¡¯re not careful, and it¡¯s precisely when we¡¯re on the verge of getting what we want that we tend to let our guard down. But, to my pleasant surprise, everything seemed fine. Without wasting more time, I gathered moss and dry leaves for bedding, laid out my blanket, used another as a cover, and even made a small storage space for my backpac. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! I was starting to really feel its weight on my shoulders. Next, I began the tedious task of camouflaging my shelter from any curious eyes. It wasn¡¯t an easy, quick, or pleasant job, but with enough effort and a knife, I eventually managed to create a curtain of branches that also acted as a makeshift roof. It wasn¡¯t exactly a masterpiece, but it did the job. Looking at my handiwork with satisfaction, I realized how tired I was¡ªand how quickly dusk was approaching. I didn¡¯t even feel like lighting a small fire, which, in hindsight, might¡¯ve been for the best since smoke could attract unwanted guests. And no, I wasn¡¯t worried about animals as they instinctively fear fire, no I was thinking more about goblins or gnolls, if any lived in the area. So, I promised myself that in the future, I¡¯d only light fires away from my hideout and the same rule would apply to skinning animals or cooking. I wrapped myself in my blanket, promising that tomorrow I¡¯d start practicing meditation and sensing mana. After all, today had been eventful enough, and I needed a fresh mind for my efforts to have any real effect. But before I fell asleep, my mind began analyzing the sounds of the forest, layering its own interpretation on top of them. Curled up in my makeshift bed, I couldn¡¯t help but think about the monsters that might visit me during the night. Naturally, my brain picked one of the worst possible scenarios. Spiders. Huge, hairy, fat spiders. And I¡¯m talking about spiders at least the size of a large dog. I didn''t feel like laughing when I imagined an entire group of them slowly creeping toward my shelter. Because of course in classic fantasy they hunt in packs, they¡¯re common enough, and they don¡¯t shy away from attacking humans. What made it worse was that people in the modern world forget what excellent predators spiders actually are. Their small size gives us the illusion that they¡¯re just passive hunters waiting for prey to come to them, making them seem barely mobile. Nothing could be further from the truth. When the need arises, they can move with incredible speed, even considering their small size. And if we assume some loss of speed due to a larger, heavier body, that¡¯s still little comfort to the poor soul they catch. With these cheerful thoughts, I slowly drifted off into uneasy sleep of my first night in this strange new world. The only upside? I was now the master of my own fate¡ªI could wake up whenever I wanted and plan my day as I saw fit. So yeah, my situation did have its perks, and I needed to remember that. The following days were spent gathering berries, fishing and cheering when I managed to catch anything, which wasn¡¯t always the case¡ªand hunting. And I have to brag: during one of my trips, I stumbled upon two stray wild boar piglets. Licking my lips, I affectionately named them Bacon 1 and Bacon 2. So I managed to secure some fresh meat, though I admit with some regret, that Bacon 1 squealed pitifully while getting away. Why have you forsaken me Becon 1! You would be so delicious. So, food availability varied¡ªnothing too dire yet, but it could change in an instant. The thought of starvation wasn¡¯t exactly comforting. And, of course, I didn¡¯t forget about my daily mana-sensing exercises, interrupted only by modest meals. That was my priority¡ªbecause without mana, I was frankly almost defenseless. And though progress was slow, I was beginning to sense its presence around me. It was such a faint feeling that it was nearly imperceptible, like trying to use a sense I¡¯d never used before¡ªwhich honestly was the truth. On the edge of that perception, there was something I could classify as the faintest brush of a magical current weaving through reality. And, naturally, just when I started making noticeable progress, everything had to go to shit.