As the first light of dawn breaks, I find myself lingering on the threshold of the adventure lobby, my heart racing with anticipation for the quests that await me within those enchanted walls. The air is thick with the hum of excitement, and as I step closer, the whispers that began to swirl around me yesterday crescendo into a cacophony, buzzing like a swarm of bees intent on my attention.
I quicken my pace, my footsteps echoing against the cobblestone path, desperate to escape the piercing gazes of curious onlookers who seem to judge my every move. Each hurried step only seems to fuel their gossip, the murmurs growing sharper. It's disheartening, a heavy weight pressing upon my resolve, yet I refuse to let their scrutiny deter me.
With determination fueling my strides, I weave through the throngs of bustling adventurers, their chatter creating a vibrant backdrop to my thoughts, until I finally step into the sanctuary of the adventure lobby. Here, the atmosphere shifts; the air is filled with a palpable sense of possibility, as if the walls are alive with the stories of countless quests yet to unfold.
Inside, the atmosphere transforms dramatically, enveloping me in a sense of warmth and belonging. The adventurers around me don't greet me with furtive glances but instead welcome me with genuine smiles and friendly nods, as though I've stepped into a sanctuary of camaraderie. The air buzzes with laughter and the clinking of mugs, the faint scent of spiced ale and roasted meats wafting from the nearby hearth.
I make my way toward the quest board, its surface adorned with a patchwork of colorful requests, each one beckoning with promise and adventure. My gaze flits over the scrolls, the vivid ink shining under the flickering torchlight. At last, my eye settles on a quest to defeat slimes—an unassuming task, often undertaken by fledgling adventurers like myself. While I know better than to underestimate any foe, the thought of starting with a manageable quest settles my nerves and seems a wise choice for my inaugural venture.
As I mentally brace myself to step back outside, a wave of anxiety slowly creeps in, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. The mere idea of re-entering the world, only to confront a cacophony of judgmental gazes, sends an unsettling shiver racing down my spine. Just at that moment, a vibrant adventurer approaches, their bright smile a beacon of positivity. With a warm, reassuring pat on my shoulder, they effortlessly lift some of the weight from my shoulders, infusing me with a glimmer of hope.
"If you're feeling anxious about being spotted, then take this," he says, giving me a worn black cloak that looks like it's been through a lot of adventures.
With a mix of surprise and curiosity, I accept the cloak from his outstretched hands. The fabric, soft and worn from years of use, feels familiar against my fingertips. It embraces me with a comforting warmth, as if it carries the whispers of countless stories and adventures woven into its threads.
"Thanks a lot, man," I say, feeling really grateful all of a sudden.
As I'm trying to throw on the cloak over my simple clothes, I spot a small crowd gathering around me, looking curious and supportive. One by one, other adventurers come up and hand me trinkets and loot—shiny little things and useful stuff they don't need anymore. Feeling grateful for their kindness, I can't really say no, so I accept everything with a thankful nod.
Among the assorted items, my gaze is drawn to a small bag that seems to shimmer with an enchanting allure. It's not just an ordinary bag; as I lean in for a closer look, I notice intricate patterns woven into the fabric that dance playfully in the light. When I gingerly touch it, I can feel a strange warmth emanating from within. To my amazement, I soon realize that this is no typical pouch—it's a magical bag that expands infinitely, ready to hold whatever treasures I choose to place inside. The possibilities seem endless, igniting a sense of wonder and excitement in my heart. Elated by my good fortune, I don the cloak, stow my newfound treasures in the magical bag, and secure it around my hip.
Stepping outside once more envelops me in an unfamiliar sensation. The dark cloak wraps around me like a protective shroud, its fabric absorbing the ambient light and allowing me to navigate the bustling streets unseen. A wave of relief surges through me, giving me the confidence to slip past groups of adventurers, lively and animated, yet blissfully unaware of my presence. Just as I begin to relish this newfound anonymity, I round a corner and suddenly find myself face-to-face with another figure, narrowly avoiding a collision that jolts me back to reality.
"Zin? Is that really you?" a voice shouts, cutting through my peaceful moment like a knife.
I come to a sudden halt, my heart racing as I turn slowly to face her, the realization washing over me like a tidal wave. There stands Alice, her wide eyes reflecting a blend of surprise and deep concern, as if she's just stepped into a scene she never expected to find. Her brows are furrowed, and the tension in her stance reveals just how much she cares in this unexpected moment.
"A-Alice?" I hesitated, carefully choosing my words as my thoughts raced to find clarity.
"Why are you wearing that?" she asks, her tone a bit sharper, and I can feel my face getting red with embarrassment.
"Shh! Keep it down, okay?" I whisper, looking around to make sure nobody else caught on to what just happened.
But everything felt irrevocably delayed; the weight of scrutiny from those around me pressed down like a heavy iron yoke, constricting my very breath. Panic surged within me, compelling me to flee, leaving Alice behind, her eyes wide with worry as I dashed away from the kingdom we once called home. I sprinted through the winding paths, the cool, crisp air of the outside world enveloping me like a refreshing balm against my overheated skin. Each inhalation burned my lungs, and my legs quaked beneath me, protesting the relentless pace. Just when I thought I had slipped into a fragile bubble of safety, a shadow loomed menacingly behind me—an orc, towering and formidable, his predatory gaze fixed on me in unnerving silence, a reminder of the danger that pursued me.
When I finally summoned the courage to glance over my shoulder, a wave of dread washed over me, settling like a stone in the pit of my stomach. The orc barreled toward me, muscles rippling beneath its rugged green skin, a primal roar tearing from its throat that reverberated through the air. I had scarcely a moment to react as it swung its massive, blood-stained weapon with terrifying force, the wind rushing past me as I braced for impact.
"Damn it, you are joking, right?" I said.
As the hulking orc swung his jagged weapon, searing pain erupted in my right leg, the brutal impact shattering bone like fragile glass. My scream of agony was abruptly stifled as the monstrous creature raised its weapon once more, this time aiming for my vulnerable left arm. Desperation clawed at my throat as I tried to crawl away, the cold grip of terror tightening around me like a vise. The orc was merciless, its eyes gleaming with cruel delight as it swung its weapon one last time. In that instant, everything around me blurred, and my world dissolved into darkness, leaving only a chilling silence in its wake.
[**You are now Death**]
The words reverberated in my mind, sharp and haunting, swirling in the suffocating darkness like ethereal wisps. Was it all just a figment of my imagination? I contemplated the life that could have unfolded had I been whisked away to a fantastical realm—an existence filled with adventure and purpose—yet the stark truth was far more disheartening. Shadows clung to me, wrapping me in their cold embrace, intensifying the deep-seated isolation that constricted my heart, reminiscent of the aching solitude I experienced when those I thought were friends betrayed me. I could no longer avoid the truth; my hubris regarding my abilities had inexorably led me to this bleak reality.
"It's too late, huh?" I murmured to myself.
"Ah, dang it! The only regret I have is… that… I didn't get to finish my breakfast earlier," I said it with a bit of regret.
Even in this suffocating void, I was tormented by the relentless ache of the orc's brutal attack. The memory of that fateful encounter clung to me like a dark shroud, weaving itself into the very fabric of my existence. A sense of finality enveloped my surroundings, where shadows danced ominously, and the air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness. The screen of my vision flickered and dimmed, blurring the line between reality and the haunting echoes of my pain,
[**You are now Alive**]
"Wait, what?" Those were words I never thought I'd hear again. I slowly opened my eyes, squinting against the low light.
"Well, that was a total waste of a few minutes," I joked to ease my pain.
A dull ache throbbed through my body, a constant reminder of my brush with danger. As I ran my hands over my limbs, an unexpected jolt of surprise coursed through me; my right leg and left arm were miraculously unscathed—healed as if woven by some unseen force. Yet, the sensation of blood clinging to my clothes enveloped me like a suffocating shroud, sticky and warm, a haunting testament to my narrow escape from death's grip. Was this truly a miracle, or merely an illusion crafted by a miracle?
"Wait, my leg and arm are back," I said, feeling totally confused.
The sight of a small, gelatinous creature glimmering in hues of green and yellow caught my eye, pulling me abruptly from my foggy reverie. It was a slime, its body quivering slightly as it absorbed the ambient light. A rush of instinct surged through me, igniting the memories of the perilous quest that had led me here. I had to hunt these creatures down—they were rumored to possess rare materials vital for my mission.
With great care, I approached, feeling the cool ground beneath my feet as I trained my senses on the elusive target. Each step was deliberate, as I masked my presence behind a shroud of shadows, heart racing with anticipation. As I readied myself to pounce, I raised my hand, preparing to summon the incantation for a fireball, the very spell that would obliterate my foe in an instant. But when I shouted the words with fervor, expecting the familiar heat and energy to materialize, I was met with a disheartening silence. Nothing happened.
The slimes halted mid-gesture, their gelatinous bodies quivering with a mix of surprise and curiosity, while I stood frozen in bewilderment at the sight of my fireball flickering ineffectively in the air. A surge of panic surged through me as I focused desperately, willing my mana to return, but it stubbornly eluded my grasp. Frustration bubbled up within me, boiling over just as the slimes, now united in a chaotic, slippery frenzy, launched themselves toward me with a wild abandon that sent shivers down my spine.
"Agh! Ouch, ouch!" I shouted, dodging and weaving like a wild acrobat, adrenaline surging through my veins as I narrowly escaped each heated blow.
During the quiet moments of my retreat, my gaze fell upon a stout stick, its surface rough and weathered, resting haphazardly on the forest floor. A wave of desperation surged through me, igniting a fierce determination. I grasped the stick firmly, ready to wield it as my only line of defense.
I swung it with urgency, each strike fueled by an urgency to repel the oncoming threat—an army of slimes, shimmering and gelatinous, darting around me with astonishing agility. Their shapes quivered and shifted, making them elusive targets.
As frustration simmered within me, a fierce spark of defiance ignited my very spirit. I tapped into a power I had barely begun to grasp, a thrilling wave of energy surging through my veins like a tempest. In my hands, the stick shimmered momentarily, transforming into a formidable weapon that radiated with an ethereal brilliance, its edge gleaming unnaturally sharp and ready to strike.
"Ah hah, look at my enhanced skill," I said, not really expecting much.
Yet, despite this surge of newfound strength electrifying my every move, the slimes danced like wraiths around me, their gelatinous forms undulating gracefully to evade my every aimed strike. They were stubborn, relentless, the embodiment of fluidity, as I found myself entwined in a frantic ballet between fury and hope, battling to land a blow against these unyielding, elusive adversaries. Each swing felt like a testament to my resolve, echoing in the air as I fought against both my anger and their ceaseless evasion.
Then, in a moment of frustration, I hurled the stick with all my might. To my astonishment, it struck true, piercing through the mass of slimes and causing them to dissolve into a puddle of goo. My heart raced as I quickly gathered their remnants, stuffing them into a bag before racing to the adventure lobby.
Upon re-entering the kingdom, the atmosphere had noticeably shifted. Instead of the previous hushed whispers and curious glances, the townspeople now exhibited signs of fear and avoidance, likely due to the bloodstains on my clothing, which served as a stark warning of recent events. Despite their apprehensive stares, I proceeded to the designated location for exchanging dead slimes for currency, focused on addressing my disheveled appearance.
After completing the transaction and receiving my earnings, I quickly made my way to the nearest shop. There, I purchased a simple t-shirt, durable pants, and new shoes. Although I had a preference for retaining my cloak, I opted to store it away along with my old clothes as I returned home.
Upon arrival, I was immediately overcome by exhaustion—not solely from depleting my mana, but primarily due to the significant loss of blood. My vision began to blur as fatigue set in, leading to a collapse on the ground. Just before losing consciousness, I noticed Alice hurrying home, her concerned expression providing a momentary flicker of hope amid the encroaching darkness. Meanwhile, a separate individual from another realm, seated on an expensive sofa and holding a cup of wine, observed the scene through a portal with a smile.