-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Awakening and the Forest Ordeal
-----------------------------------------------------------------
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"...?"
How much time had passed?
Feeling a cold, hard sensation against his face, Jeon slowly opened his eyes.
"What... what happened?"
He remembered his mind racing furiously and uttering the single word 'Compression.'
But after that, his memory cut off like a broken film reel—nothing came to mind.
Why was everything so quiet around him? Why was he sprawled on the floor?
Nothing surfaced in his thoughts, so he tried to sit up and look around. Even that proved difficult.
"Ugh, urk, uweeeck."
The moment he tried to move, his head spun, and vomit surged up immediately.
"Huff, huff, huff..."
Having unintentionally emptied his stomach, Jeon gave up on sitting up fully and leaned his upper body against the central platform where the coffin had been placed.
"...It's so quiet."
Even his soft mutter echoed loudly for some reason.
He was the only source of noise in this vast cavern.
But that didn't mean the surroundings were peaceful.
"They're... all dead, huh."
The stone statues that had filled the cavern had vanished like dust, but the carnage they'd wrought remained.
The explorers' blood stained the cavern floor red, their corpses still in place, unvanished.
"Urk..."
The sight made vomit rise again, but with his stomach already empty, nothing came up.
Still, he didn't want to keep staring, so Jeon averted his eyes to the empty air.
"...Haha."
He knew full well this scene was reality.
Yet it was so unbelievable—even if someone told him it was all a dream, he'd buy it. A wry chuckle escaped him unbidden.
'Did I really do this?'
Especially that final moment.
His mind whirling as it deciphered the runes carved into the black stone, unleashing their power—it was utterly implausible.
'All those statues turned to dust.'
Dozens of the statues that had wielded absolute power in the cavern vanished in an instant at his word.
Or more precisely, compressed into particles smaller than dust.
'Did I cast magic... Rune Magic, no less?'
Rune Magic.
The Rune Magic of the great mage hailed as the kingdom's guardian deity—he'd used it himself.
As an exploration team's slave, he'd been awestruck by knights and mages in action. To think he'd achieve something even greater.
"But... how did I do it?"
He could chalk understanding the runes up to the Korean Patch, but Rune Magic was still magic. It required mana—the foundation of all magic—and the skill to wield it.
Yet in the month since arriving in this world, Jeon had never learned about mana or sensed it.
'...It's not like I have no guesses.'
With a wobble, Jeon carefully stood.
After a short rest, his condition felt somewhat improved.
The first thing he looked at upon rising was the top of the platform he'd leaned against—the spot where the coffin had rested.
"...It's all powder now."
In place of the coffin radiating eerie energy and the black stone within, only heaps of black powder remained.
Seeing this confirmed his suspicions.
'This must've supplied the mana I lacked.'
The strange energy that had surged through him when he touched the coffin.
It was likely the sealed great mage's mana—or something equivalent—trying to possess him. Instead, it fueled the Rune Magic.
'Some faint traces linger.'
Indeed, he still felt that odd energy around his arms.
But replicating the Rune Magic from before? He had no confidence.
His hyper-analytical mind had gone still, and the energy in his body was now a mere fraction of what it was.
'No... maybe something very minor is still possible.'
Despite that, the faint potential tempted him to focus his mind—then he shook his head vigorously.
"...My body's completely wrecked."
Even slight concentration made his head throb and stomach churn.
Pushing it might knock him out again—his condition was that dire.
"Anyway... what now?"
Shelving thoughts of Rune Magic, Jeon pondered his next steps.
But his mind filled only with darkness.
He'd pieced together what happened, but the future? Nothing.
Stranded in an unknown world in a child's body, slave or not—he'd lost everyone and every group he knew.
He had no possessions, no immediate skills for survival.
Being able to read well didn't conjure food, clothes, or shelter.
"I read so well... but nowhere to use it."
Still, Jeon wasn't one to sit idle.
Judging his body movable enough, he started scavenging.
Each step made his head spin and body ache from within, but no choice.
'This ruin might collapse.'
The site's condition was poor.
The cracked floor from the statues' rampage aside, the once-maintained walls were fissured and weathered, as if battered by ages.
'With the statues gone or the sealed coffin vanished, whatever magic held it together is spent.'
This ruin had endured due to magical design and power.
Without it, it was just an old building—nothing more.
"Gotta grab what I can and get out."
Muttering his goal, Jeon dragged his weary body onward.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The untouched forest depths were perilous.
Dense trees and undergrowth made directions hard day or night, with wild beasts or monsters liable to strike anytime.
Yet a blond boy, Jeon, wandered alone.
After aimless trekking, he leaned against a tree, catching his breath, looking worn.
"This is hell."
He'd prepared as best he could.
His ragged clothes were replaced by leather armor reinforced with metal plates. At his waist hung two short daggers and a longsword a bit long for him.
A large backpack burdened his back too.
"...Won't last more than a few days."
Still, his expression soured.
A week of forest wandering since leaving, no sign of exit.
'Was so gung-ho at the start.'
Before fleeing the ruin, he'd salvaged intact gear from the dead explorers.
Most worn items were ruined by statue attacks, but spares untouched by them remained.
Even so, supplies dwindled.
He'd hoped a week would reach a village. Foolish optimism.
"Life's no practice run."
His past life wasn't easy, but this world made every step grueling.
Slave life, the ruin ordeal, now lost in mountains—all trials.
"...Gotta keep moving."
Shaking his head, Jeon pushed off the tree.
Dwelling bred negativity—better to move.
How much farther did he go?
"Waaah—! Daddy—! Daddy—!"
"...What?"
Faint but clear: a child's wail reached him.
'People.'
Crying for daddy—likely lost recently, still able to cry.
So, dad and village nearby.
Jeon hurried toward the sound.
Continuous cries made direction easy.
Soon, he spotted the child.
"Found..."
"Waaah—! Waaah...?"
Finding the kid was good, but next?
He'd rushed on human traces, unprepared for dealing with a crying child.
The lone child in the forest shrank back warily at Jeon's emergence from bushes.
"Uh... um, are you lost?"
Jeon spoke gently, but the child trembled, staring anxiously.
'...How to ease her guard.'
Unfamiliar with kids, Jeon faltered.
The child stayed wary.
Silence stretched—until broken.
"Snort...?"
A beastly growl from behind Jeon shattered it.
"M-m-mo-monster! Monster!"
"!?"
Spotting it first, the child screamed. Jeon whipped around.
There: an orc. Humanoid, but bulkier, muscled monster.
"...Fuck."
Common in stories, but face-to-face, its menace overwhelmed.
Jeon dropped his backpack, yanking his sword free.
His blade looked pathetic against the orc's one-handed axe.
'Screwed.'
Weapons, build—no match.
Cold sweat, tensed muscles, shaking sword hand.
Yet Jeon gritted teeth, assessing coolly.
'Seems alone, at least.'
Straggler or scout—only one nearby.
But if others lurked, it might call them.
'Fight or die.'
Orc's physical prowess outclassed his.
Escape impossible.
Worse, fleeing might draw more.
'One way.'
Strike first while it laxed.
Objectively slim odds.
But one hope lingered.
'...Not entirely impossible.'
The orc eyed them without caution.
Now, in its guard-down moment—possible one-shot.
Jeon steadied his trembling, observing calmly.
"Grrr?"
Orc still lax, even scratching head, pondering its prey.
'Now!'
Seizing it, Jeon lunged, drawing the energy from his arm.