"Uhh…" I groaned as consciousness slowly returned. It felt like I'd been asleep for ages, and the dreams—man, the dreams were weird.
First, I dreamt of a merchant and his son traveling through some fantasy world, only to be attacked by bandits. Everyone got killed in the most dramatic way possible. Then there was another dream, where I was being carried like a princess by a dude in full armour. Yeah. That one was... uncomfortable.
Note to self: maybe I've been reading too much yaoi lately. It's starting to affect me in ways I didn't ask for.
"Argh..." I winced as I tried to sit up, only for a sharp pain to stab through my chest. Instinctively, my hand flew to the spot. My fingers brushed against… leaves?
"What the—? Green leaves?" I mumbled. The moment I touched them, the pain flared up even worse. "Okay, yeah. I'm definitely injured."
But how? Wasn't I just in my bed, reading that Marvel fanfic before crashing? I didn't drink. I didn't even stay up that late. So where the hell—
Wait.
This isn't my room. And it sure as hell isn't a hospital either.
Wooden walls. No fan, no bulbs. The only light came from half-burnt candles. On the table nearby, a bowl sat decorated with strange carvings. Everything felt medieval. Like one of those cheap RPG mobile games I always delete after three days.
"Don't tell me…" I whispered. "Did I get kidnapped by a cult?"
"HELLO?!" I shouted. "Is anyone there?!"
That's when I noticed something even weirder.
My voice.
It didn't sound right. It was softer. Higher. Lighter.
"Wait, wait, wait, hold up. Did they do something to me?!" Panic flared in my chest. I wanted to check below the belt, just to make sure everything was still where it belonged, but even a tiny movement sent a jolt of pain through my body.
I froze, staring at the ceiling, beads of cold sweat forming on my forehead.
Okay. Calm down. Don't jump to conclusions. You're just injured. You've probably been drugged, maybe stabbed, and left in a medieval escape room.
I was already halfway to concluding this was some twisted escape room scenario when the door creaked open, immediately snapping my attention toward it.
An old man stepped in, his movements slow but sure. His outfit looked like something straight out of a low-budget medieval LARP. A long tunic, frayed at the edges, a leather belt with pouches, and sandals. Sandals. Not even the cool kind. Honestly, if he wasn't carrying that serious grandpa energy, I'd have thought he was just cosplaying.
"Oh, you're finally awake," he said with a sigh of relief, stepping closer. "Thank the gods. I was starting to worry I'd have to keep watch for another month."
He looked at me with something between sympathy and exhaustion.
Seeing my suspiciously narrowed eyes and thoroughly confused expression, the old man cleared his throat and got straight to the point.
"You were brought here by royal soldiers. They said you were found among the wreckage of a carriage ambushed on the road. Everyone else didn't make it. I'm sorry for your loss."
Wait. Wait, wait, what?
My brain hit the brakes so hard I swear I heard the tires screech. Loss? Wreckage? Royal soldiers? And that pity in his voice—it sounded real. Way too real.
What the hell was he even talking about?
I forced myself to speak, though my throat felt like sandpaper. "Wh-what are you talking about…?"
He blinked, clearly taken aback by my reaction. "You don't remember?" His face shifted into mild concern. "The soldiers said your carriage was attacked by bandits. It was completely destroyed. The guards were all killed. There was another man there too. According to them, your face matches. Could've been your father… maybe an uncle?"
I just stared at him.
Unmoving.
Unblinking.
Excuse me, what in the Sekai is going on here?
I came home from college, opened that new Marvel fanfic where the MC is Logan's son and gets his past life memories with a Gacha cheat, read three chapters, and then passed out on my bed.
And now this old guy is telling me I just became an orphan?
Please. My dad died years ago, leaving me to work part-time to pay off his loans.
I was about to ask him more, a lot more, but suddenly pain exploded in my skull.
"AAAHHNNNN!"
"What happened?!" the old man shouted in panic, seeing my condition.
"Pain... in my head..." I groaned. It felt like something was forcing its way into my brain. Something that wasn't mine.
The man left the room and came back after a while with a bowl filled with... something.
In the meantime, I'd already begun to understand what was happening to me.
"Take this," he said.
Ignoring the possibility that it could be poison, I downed it in one go. The pain was still there, and I'd take any chance to stop it.
"Just rest," the old man said. "It should help. I'll inform the baron. You were to be reported as soon as you woke up."
Baron?
Soldiers?
A fantasy cosplay village?
Yeah… this wasn't a dream.
I'd been isekaied.
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