My mind felt hazy... foggy, translucent—just like the Sporb itself. Before I knew it—
I was teleported.
A rush of disorientation gripped as I stumbled forward, my boots scuffing against uneven stone. The sensation of shifting space clung to my skin, like the aftertaste of a dream. I inhaled sharply, my senses scrambling to adjust as the world around settled.
The town square stretched before , shrouded in eerie silence.
’So, this is Duskholm, huh?’
It was vastly different from my realm. Wooden houses lined the streets, their shutters sealed tight. Cobblestone roads wove through the town, leading to storefronts at the square’s edges. The architecture was old-fashioned, dieval even, but sothing about it felt... off.
And most prominently—the sky.
A dull, endless dusk blanketed the realm, devoid of stars, light, or even a proper stillness. Just an oppressive ceiling of darkened clouds, casting elongated shadows across the town. The air was thick, neither cold nor warm, just stagnant—as if ti itself had been drained from this place.
I frowned. The settlent was nestled between jagged mountain peaks, their sharp edges looming like silent sentinels. Despite the hour, an unnatural quiet settled over everything. No voices. No clatter of rchants or distant chatter. Just a deep, unsettling absence.
The town wasn’t just still.
It was hiding.
A prickling sensation crawled down my spine.
I stepped forward, boots echoing against the cobblestone.
Wandering deeper, I passed buildings that fit the usual dieval mold—taverns, smithies, a brothel at the corner, and what appeared to be a slave market, judging by the rusted chains hanging outside. My jaw tightened at the sight.
’Slavery.’
The ugly side of fantasy. I had joked about it before, back when I thought I’d never actually experience it firsthand. But seeing it here, tangible and real, made my stomach churn.
I exhaled sharply, forcing my focus elsewhere. There had to be life here.
SWISH.
A sharp whisper of movent.
My body tensed instantly. I turned, scanning my surroundings—
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
I took a slow step back, keeping my breathing steady. Was I imagining things?
That eerie sensation clawed at my back. A familiar feeling—the sa creeping dread I had felt before the manticore mauled .
[System: Host, you should move forward. Do not look back.]
I hesitated.
’Was system... concern?’
Whatever it was, I wasn’t about to ignore it.
I faced forward and walked.
The silence made my own footsteps sound unnervingly loud. The rhythmic clack of my boots against stone rang out, the only noise in the town.
CRACKLE.
I froze.
Smoke.
A faint, flickering glow in the distance. I narrowed my eyes. A campfire?
That ant people.
Excitent surged through , overriding the unease. I bolted towards the source, my pace quick but cautious.
The town gates soon ca into view, large wooden pillars framing an enormous, weathered sign. The smoke trailed from beyond—sowhere near the base of a mountain peak.
Following the trail, I arrived at a small cave entrance. The campfire burned just outside, but there was no one around.
They must be inside.
I wiped the sweat from my brow, steadying my breathing. Peering into the cave’s mouth, I found a tunnel system stretching further in, two paths splitting off deeper into the dark.
I approached the right passage, leaning forward—
SWING!
A blade sliced through the air, aid directly at my throat.
My instincts kicked in. I sidestepped, grabbed the attacker’s wrist, and countered with a brutal punch to their stomach.
Soft.
Not armor—skin.
Before I could see who it was—
SWING!
Another strike from behind.
I twisted sharply, ducking low as a second assailant’s fist smashed into the cavern wall. Using the opening, I drove my foot into their ribs. They grunted, slamming against the rock.
SWOOSH!
An arrow whistled past my neck. I barely dodged in ti.
I turned sharply, eyes locking onto the archer—a blonde young man with dark eyes and a solid build. He was already reaching for another arrow.
’No chance.’
I blurred forward, closing the distance in an instant. My fist drove into his gut, forcing a sharp groan from his lips.
Then—
The air shifted.
The cave’s temperature spiked.
A blistering heat radiated from behind . I turned, eyes widening.
The other two were back on their feet.
One was a burly, tanned man—borderline giant—with dark hair and sharp black eyes. He now gripped a spear, white sparks crackling along its length.
The other—a young woman with fiery tangerine hair—held two massive fireballs, each the size of a basketball.
’Awakened.’
Real fighters.
’So this is how my first encounter in Duskholm starts...’
I let out a slow breath, rolling my shoulders.
Not the best way to make introductions.
But then again—when had things ever been easy?
The spearman lunged first. His movents were sharp, controlled—a practiced fighter. He thrusted forward with precision, aiming for my ribs.
I twisted, narrowly avoiding the tip. The electricity along the spearhead crackled ominously as it passed. A direct hit would be bad.
No ti to think.
The blonde archer nocked another arrow, drawing back with deadly precision.
The fire-wielder hurled her first fireball.
Three attacks at once.
I gritted my teeth. ’Damn it.’
I twisted my body, letting the spear graze past my shoulder instead of impaling outright. The archer loosed his arrow—it zipped past my ear, missing by re inches.
But the fireball—
I barely raised my arm in ti as the scorching orb exploded against . Heat seared through my sleeve, but I pushed past the pain. My body had already started healing.
I had to be faster.
Ducking low, I kicked off the ground, dashing towards the archer first. His eyes widened, but he was too slow. I slamd my palm into his chin, forcing his head back with a sharp crack. He crumpled instantly.
One down.
The spearman was already repositioning, moving in sync with the fire-wielder. This wasn’t their first battle together.
I huffed out a breath. "Alright, let’s do this properly then."
The spearman didn’t hesitate. He lunged again, aiming for my leg this ti.
I leaped back, just as another fireball ca hurling in my direction.
These two were annoying.
I needed to separate them.
I clenched my fists. Fine. If they wanted to fight, I’d give them one.
With a smirk, I darted forward.
This town might’ve been eerily dead.
But I sure as hell wasn’t.
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