"Whoosh—"
"Whoosh—"
Waves rolled in and out, washing over the shoreline.
A nearly naked man, dressed only in a loincloth and a small satchel slung across his shoulder, lay face-down on the wet sand. Scattered around him were a massive piece of tattered blue fabric and bits of armor and weapons strewn like flotsam.
The man was Lucian.
The storm had thrown off his judgment of distance, and coupled with his anxiety, he had activated Invincibility too early. Just as the effect ended, his face had met the sea in a most unpleasant embrace. The impact knocked him out cold.
What he didn't know was that a gale had risen after he lost consciousness, carrying him safely through the storm and depositing him on this unfamiliar beach.
A cloaked figure approached on horseback.
The horse—though horse was a generous word—had long grey fur covering its body and two massive horns growing from its head. It stepped carefully toward Lucian and bent its head, nudging him gently with its muzzle to check if he was still alive.
Just then, a sharp hawk's cry rang out from Lucian's satchel, and the wind stirred once again, circling protectively around him.
The cloaked figure dismounted.
A soft, serene voice spoke: "Ancient and noble spirit, be at ease. We intend him no harm."
"It is by grace that we are drawn to him—for within him dwells potential for Kingship."
"He will seek the Elden Ring—even if it means defying the Golden Order."
The winds settled. The StormHawk King, an old king of tempests, acknowledged their intent.
Without another word, the woman and her horned steed turned away. They would return when the time was right.
Lucian stirred.
Wet. Everything was soaked.
He blinked groggily and pushed himself up from the sand. Towering, crumbling stone columns loomed along the shoreline, with massive architectural ruins further inland. Beyond them, jagged cliffs stretched high above.
The scene around him resembled the aftermath of a shipwreck.
"Missed the Invincibility timing, huh? I really thought I was done for…"
He looked down at himself and flexed his fingers.
"Still alive, though. This body's something else."
In his past life, Lucian had been a proper shut-in gamer with zero athleticism. Now, he marveled at how this vessel had not only survived a fall from the heavens but still functioned perfectly.
"Well, it makes sense. This world hits mythological levels of power by the endgame. Even low-tier stats are probably beyond human standards."
He moved quickly, retrieving the scattered gear.
"Gauntlets, armor, greaves from the Vagabond Knight set… both straight swords, the thrusting sword, and the halberd are all intact."
"Satchel's still sealed. Nothing missing."
He glanced around.
"Helmet's gone. Crest Shield and greatshield too. Not a big deal."
"Most of those noble trinkets are missing… that's a shame. I was hoping to trade them for some runes."
Still, he wasn't broke. He had a little stash saved up.
But something felt off.
"Where… am I exactly? According to the game, I should've woken up in the Stranded Graveyard."
Stranded he certainly was. Graveyard? Not so much.
Lucian strapped on the Vagabond Knight armor, gripping the straight sword in his left hand and the halberd in his right. He tied the dual swords across his back with rope. Everything else either went into the satchel or got left behind.
Ready, he headed toward the cliffs.
Before long, he stopped—not because he had arrived anywhere, but because he noticed flickering firelight up ahead.
Someone was there.
In the Lands Between, the living were rare. And the friendly even rarer.
Lucian crouched low and crept forward carefully.
Eventually, the fire's glow revealed a tall, broad-shouldered man roasting a fish. He was dressed in fur-lined armor with a distinctly Viking flair, and a warhorse rested beside him.
Lucian immediately recognized the garb—Kaiden Sellsword.
They were fierce mercenaries said to hail from the settlement of Kaiden in the northern mountaintops. for hire, known across battlefields for their strength and loyalty to gold. Their reputation was brutal and far-reaching.
At that moment, a sharp howl broke the silence.
Lucian turned.
A white wolf stood nearby, watching him with keen, alert eyes.
The Kaiden Sellsword often fought alongside wolves—trusted companions and comrades-in-arms.
Hearing the howl, the mercenary turned from his fish and locked eyes with Lucian.
The beach fell silent, tension thick in the air.