Hah—!
He took a deep breath, fresh air filling his lungs again.
David opened his eyes. His throat felt bone-dry, and his brain seemed half-withered—it was seriously uncomfortable.
He struggled to move his eyes, scanning the dim tent in front of him.
"A tent?"
"Where am I..."
"What happened... Who... who am I?"
Jumbled images swirled in his mind, blocking him from merging two lifetimes of memories.
Wait, merging memories?
It suddenly hit him—his soul didn't belong to this world. He'd experienced death once before. His heart and brain had gone silent, and his past life was already fading into blur.
A name surfaced in his mind—David. That was his name, both in his past life and now. The difference? Now he was David Frank.
Movement in the tent jolted him from his confused thoughts.
"Young master, are you sure you want to begin?" A guard in knight's armor asked him gravely.
Begin what?
And who are you?
David frowned. He noticed the spacious tent was ringed with mysterious black-robed figures, and in the center, someone had drawn a weird ritual circle with suspicious red "paint."
There was a smell of blood...
The red stuff wasn't paint—it was blood.
Two raggedly dressed women stood numbly in the middle of the blood circle.
They were both pretty good-looking—not like ordinary slaves. They had blonde hair, and their tattered slave clothes couldn't hide their decent figures.
But each of them held a sharp dagger...
David suddenly realized—the black-robed figures and the guards behind him were all watching him. They were waiting for his command.
All he had to do was give the word, and those two beautiful slave women would stab their daggers into each other's chests, letting warm blood spill across the ritual circle.
A slave duel?
No, this was some kind of evil ceremony.
He could see the struggle, terror, and despair in those women's eyes...
He knew the guards standing behind him were looking at him with fear and disgust...
He could see those black-robed creeps were all fanatically anticipating something...
And he seemed to be the nobleman running this evil ritual.
Evil gods... blood sacrifices...
This seemed extremely dangerous.
The guards' expressions were hinting at him too—Young master, back out while you still can...
"What the hell? Is this some kind of joke?"
David's breathing quickened. He pressed his hand to his forehead, rubbing his still-throbbing temple.
Stay calm...
Right now, he wanted to stall—he needed more useful information to figure out what to do.
"Um..."
His voice came out so hoarse, like rusty scrap metal, it startled even himself.
One of the black-robed figures across from the ritual circle couldn't wait any longer. They'd been anticipating this thrilling, bloody ceremony for ages.
The black-robed figure strode forward, chanting strange whispers. Some kind of invisible, cold shadow began spreading from his feet.
The two slave women trembled as if controlled, walking toward each other. They raised their blades and sliced each other's skin.
A thick smell of blood burst forth. The scent made David shudder.
Something's wrong...
The smell of blood, the cult ritual, and these strange vibrations—David had a really bad feeling about this. This definitely wasn't a smart move!
His head buzzing, David suddenly caught sounds from outside the tent. In the distance, something like wild beasts were howling... they were coming for the smell of blood.
"Stop!"
David suddenly shouted, grabbing the guard captain beside him. "Stop them!"
He wasn't the real David Frank, but whatever that guy had been planning before, it was suicide!
The guard captain's eyes sharpened, and he threw his arm without hesitation.
The chanting black-robed figure suddenly found a bloody dagger in his chest—a dagger that had pierced his heart!
The sudden change threw everyone in the tent into chaos. David heard the sound of swords being drawn, and other guards gripped their gun handles.
"Guns? Why does this era have guns... No, now's not the time to think about that."
David looked down, trying to find himself a decent weapon.
Because the black-robed figure in the circle had collapsed, and the other cultists were roaring in anger.
"Traitors to our Lord!!! You'll all become offerings to the great Blood God—!!!"
They charged forward like madmen.
The two slave women turned pale with fright at the sudden change. They backed away in panic, but by then the black-robed figures didn't care much about them anymore.
"Lunatics..."
David took a deep breath. He couldn't find any weapons on himself. The only thing that could hurt someone was that arm-length black wooden box lying on his lap—heavy and dark.
The fight broke out instantly. Black-robed figures near him were immediately shot down by roaring gunfire, but the others showed surprising agility.
They fearlessly threw themselves at the armored knights, using their bodies to shield their companions from bullets and swords. At the cost of their own lives, they gouged out guards' eyes with their bare hands...
Screams and battle cries filled the tent. David gasped for breath and swung the heavy wooden box backward, knocking down a lunatic charging at him.
In the chaos, nobody paid attention to those two slave women anymore. They might've already fallen in the confusion, but before that, even more guards and black-robed figures died in brutal close combat.
"What kind of psycho cultists actually fight to the death against a noble's private soldiers!"
A blade sliced open the tent. David, covered in cold sweat, crawled out of the blood-reeking space. The mountain wind hit him, and he immediately shivered.
Looking around, this place wasn't some military camp or noble estate—it was just a desolate, dark mountain valley...
So that's what happened. The original noble kid had brought a bunch of cultists into some remote mountain in the dead of night to perform an evil ritual, all to avoid prying eyes.
What a stupid decision.
David smiled bitterly. He hadn't been hearing things earlier—several tall, dark shadows had already appeared in the distance of the valley...
Bodies as tall as two men, all iron-gray colored, with weirdly long arms. Their sharp black claws were sharper than the sharpest daggers, gleaming coldly in the darkness.
"Monsters?"
The guard captain, covered in blood, killed his way out of the tent. He spotted those monsters and immediately looked tense.
"Monsters! Protect the young master! Form up, charge—!"
The other guards who'd just finished killing inside the tent also looked horrified when they came out.
But not a single guard backed down in the face of monsters. They automatically split up, with half following the captain to attack those obviously nasty things.
The guard captain's eyes were filled with determination. Knowing he probably wouldn't survive the night, he only hoped that the respectable Viscount Frank would take care of their families...
The power gap was too huge. With roughly equal numbers, those thick-skinned monsters easily tore through the guards' formation. Their sharp claws pierced through armor, and their stinking jaws bit through throats.
David didn't hesitate for a second—he grabbed the remaining men and ran. But the formation behind collapsed too fast, and some guards had to turn back to hold the line.
Wind whistled past his ears. He didn't know how far he'd run. One by one, the guards beside him turned back with their swords drawn, like loyal warriors who died before they could even be pulled back.
Until David ran out of strength, his heavy legs could no longer support him, and he collapsed to the ground.
Gotta say, the Frank family's guards were really brave. They'd taken out almost all the monsters... almost!
The last green monster caught up, grinning wickedly as it approached him, looking like it was about to enjoy a feast.
"Am I gonna die again..."
David rolled over and sat on the ground, staring somewhat numbly at that tall monster...
Looks like he'd come to a chaotic and dark world, starting off with one hell of a thrill ride.
"...I finally got a second chance at life, how can it end like this..."
"No! Never! Even if I have to pay any price—let me survive!!!"
Any price?
As if something out there really heard this ant's plea, it gave him guidance on a whim.
David, racking his brain for a way to survive, suddenly noticed the box that had fallen beside him.
This thing had been in his hands from the start, and it seemed pretty important...
He paused, then reached out and unlatched the box.
Click...
A dark red severed arm fell out.
Like he was possessed, David grabbed it... and instantly, an intense dizziness hit him!
A terrifying mental shock seemed to show him hallucinations. A strange consciousness prompt appeared in his mind...
[Divine Corpse Arm discovered. Initiate Limb Grafting Ritual?]
David's eyes went wide. Looking at that terrible monster approaching step by step, he gritted his teeth and chose to grab this last straw reaching out from some unknown abyss.
"Yes!"