"Damn it…"
In a shallow cave where faint sunlight seeped through cracks in the stone, a boy sat slumped, muttering under his breath.
Though his face still held the softness of youth, his hollowed eyes and dirt-smudged skin told a different story—one shaped by exhaustion and survival.
He wasn't worn down simply because he'd been thrown into a strange new world after death.
No, the true burden lay in the backbreaking labor this new life demanded—work so punishing it made the 21st century feel like a fantasy. Even the chaos of the 20th century couldn't compare to the daily suffering here.
"Is it right to force a kid to live like this?"
To Leo—once a modern man who had graduated from university and lived comfortably in the age of technology—everything about this world felt cruel and primitive. The villagers, hardened and weathered by constant labor, seemed stunted, their eyes hollow, their hope long gone.
A week ago, he had a rare moment of respite during the village's autumn gathering. But even that was a double-edged sword. Had he been seen resting at home, his father's fists would have done the talking.
That was why Leo had come here—to the cave behind the hills. A place where he could breathe without fear.
At home, a single moment of rest might be seen as defiance. And defiance meant beatings. Yet, staying away too long could be just as dangerous.
He was trapped.
Sure, people in the 21st century liked to say "the world's a tough place." But this… this was something else. Here, stepping outside the safety of your home could mean slavery—or death.
He remembered a boy from the village who'd tried to run away the year before. When he returned months later, he was missing an arm. His father beat him bloody, his siblings treated him like dirt, and the boy took his own life not long after.
Leo had come from a place where words like "human rights" were background noise. Here, those words meant nothing. And for the villagers, the boy's end was simply the natural conclusion of failure.
That was the day Leo changed.
He stopped surviving on instinct and started thinking—planning.
Drawing from the fragmented memories of his past life, he began applying everything he could remember. Survival skills, bushcraft, hunting tricks—things he'd seen in videos or read in articles back on Earth.
He crafted basic traps to catch birds and small animals. Sharpened sticks into crude weapons. Trained when he could.
A full year of quiet effort had made a difference. His body had grown stronger. Swinging a staff felt as natural as walking. Labor that once crushed him now passed with ease.
He didn't show his full strength, of course. That would only invite more work. Sometimes he faked fatigue to blend in.
'Thank you, ForgeWoods. Thank you, WildLife Dan.'
He silently thanked the YouTubers from his old world whose survival tutorials had, ironically, saved his life in this one.
Still, he couldn't shake the creeping fear of a future as a serf. No matter how much stronger he got, no matter how well he hunted, he was still someone else's property. Bound to land, to tribute, to obedience.
How do I escape this fate?
No amount of modern knowledge had given him the answer.
The names of the lands were unfamiliar. This wasn't Earth, that much was clear. And he'd never cared much for medieval history anyway. All he had were instincts, reason, and the will to survive.
For now, that meant keeping his body in shape.
Today's catch—a bird the size of a crow—was enough protein to get by.
'Time to go back.'
Staying out too long would raise questions, and questions meant danger.
The sun had begun to dip past the hilltop. He slung the remains of the bird into a satchel and started down the slope.
The cave sat just above the village's back hill, a twenty-minute walk from his home. The descent was light and fast—his full stomach gave him energy.
But when he neared the village, something caught his eye.
"…Horses?"
And not just any horses.
Strong, well-groomed beasts with dark manes and polished tack. They stood out like nobles in a beggar's alley.
A chill crawled up Leo's spine.
Trouble.
No one wealthy or powerful came here without a reason.
And people with power didn't bring good news.
I should hide—
"Hey! You there!"
Leo froze.
A man in partial armor, wearing a dark helmet, waved him over.
"Come here!"
Damn it…
A heavy stallion snorted beside the man. There was no point in running now.
"…Me?"
"Yes, you. Come here. What's your age?"
"…Thirteen."
"Thirteen?" The man eyed him up and down. "You've got the build of a seventeen-year-old. You lying?"
Leo tried to keep his voice steady. "I'm not lying."
The soldier nodded, satisfied. "Follow me."
As Leo was led through the village, he noticed the crowd.
People had gathered near the headman's house, whispering.
The soldier pushed through the crowd, leading him into the center where a large man in a green-trimmed cloak waited.
"Commander Bryce, another one."
"Hmm?" The man turned, studying Leo. "Big lad. What's your name?"
"Leo."
"Alright, Leo. I'm Commander Bryce. I've come from Venshire Fortress to recruit new soldiers. If you enlist, you'll be paid one silver per month. Meals and shelter included. It's not luxury, but it's better than starving. Interested?"
Leo's brain swirled.
A soldier? Me?
Images of war flashed in his mind—muddy trenches, swords, fire, blood.
But… something's off.
Bryce didn't seem like someone in a hurry to draft cannon fodder. He was calm.
And Leo hadn't heard anything about a war lately.
Even in this world, news traveled fast—especially gossip. If there was war nearby, everyone would know.
Still…
Even in the 21st century, military life was brutal. In this medieval world? Likely worse. Abuse, punishments, cruelty—it was all possible.
But what did he have now?
A life of labor and beatings. No freedom. No pay.
At least there, I get food. Maybe a bed. Maybe a weapon.
Before Leo could answer, another voice cut in.
"Take him! He's strong!"
His father.
That familiar tone. That grin. That desperation to profit.
"Who are you?" barked a nearby soldier.
"I'm his father. He's a hard worker, strong as an ox."
The village headman, who usually spoke with pride and authority, suddenly lowered his voice. "This is Leo's decision."
The silence weighed heavy.
Leo stared at the ground.
Then looked up.
"…I'll go."
"Good," said Bryce. "Captain Darnel! Escort him."
"Yes, sir. Come along, boy."
As Leo was pulled away, Bryce turned to his father.
"You said you're his parent?"
"Yes, yes. His father. Hardworking stock."
"Three silver coins."
"Oh—thank you, sir! Thank you! He'll serve you well, I swear!"
The man laughed, bowing repeatedly, rubbing his hands together like he'd just struck gold.
Not a single hint of concern crossed his face.
Bryce said nothing. He'd seen far worse.
In villages like this, children were currency.
Three silver was a generous price.
Later, Leo sat inside an abandoned estate on the edge of the village—a once-grand house now empty since the noblewoman who owned it died.
It wasn't the cold floor that made him nervous, nor the fading scent of perfume and rot.
It was the soldiers standing by the walls.
And the other boys seated around him, all strangers.
They were young. Scrawny. From different villages.
He was right—it wasn't a war draft.
No commander in their right mind would recruit children for the frontlines.
But still…
His father had sold him without hesitation.
Just like he had killed Leo's mother with his fists, calling her a burden.
Leo clenched his jaw. He felt nothing.
Just a cold acceptance.
Night fell.
And then—dinner came.
Warm bread. A strip of tough, aromatic meat.
Pork.
Not bird. Not squirrel. Real meat.
His eyes welled slightly—not with tears of joy, but disbelief.
Did I make the right choice?
It wasn't much. But compared to the life he'd lived…
It was everything.
He chewed slowly, savoring every bite.
Around him, whispers stirred. The soldiers no longer looked as tense.
Leo seized the moment to speak with the others.
Where were they from? What did they eat yesterday?
Many couldn't even answer.
Some didn't know the name of their village.
But he gathered enough.
No beatings. Steady meals.
A place to sleep.
For a boy who had lived through hell… that was more than enough to begin again.