Hero, Jake Carter's Perspective
I could hear Ysira casting under her breath before I even drew my sword. Her voice was steady, laced with that low hum of power she always carried—calculated, like someone solving a math equation while the world burned. Celestine raised her staff, already casting a barrier of pale light between us and the treeline. It shimmered like glass soaked in moonlight, thin but unbreakable.
I stepped forward.
The first beast lunged from the brush—fangs like curved daggers, eyes glowing with that sickly red hue they all shared. I ducked under the swipe, felt the air tear past my cheek, and drove my blade up through its underbelly. There was a sound—wet, cracking, hollow. Blood sprayed across my arm, hot and reeking of sulfur.
Another one came barreling from the left. I pivoted, used the corpse of the first as a shield, then kicked off and slashed horizontally. Holy lightning sparked from the blade's edge as it cleaved through corrupted bone. They screamed like wounded elk—raw, ragged, and wrong.
Ysira's spell detonated behind me. A sphere of compressed wind exploded in the center of a charging pack, flinging bodies into the treetops like discarded dolls. I could feel the pressure ripple through the air, thudding against my chest like a bassline. She flicked her hand again, cool and impassive, launching another shockwave that folded a creature inward with a wet crunch.
Celestine moved gracefully behind us, reciting prayers under her breath. Golden light trailed from her staff like incense smoke, drifting toward our wounds and sealing them mid-battle. My torn forearm numbed, then warmed, then stitched itself back together. She didn't flinch as a beast leapt toward her—just raised her hand and blinded it with a flash of light so pure it howled in confusion before I ran it through.
When the last one fell, I stood surrounded by steam and gore.
"Good job," I said, exhaling. I sat on a log slick with dew and took a long breath. The cold seeped into my back, but it felt good—grounding.
It's been two years.
One blink, and I was gone. Just like that. One moment walking to school, hands in my hoodie pocket, earbuds in. Next thing I knew, I was staring at robed priests chanting my name like it meant something.
They said I was the Chosen Hero. That I'd save this world from the God of Chaos.
Anyone else would've freaked out. But not me.
I was ready. Hell, I wanted out. Earth was a dead-end. If I was lucky, I got ignored. If not, Brad Sanderson made sure I didn't forget what a "waste of space" I was. My parents barely looked at me unless I screwed up. Too busy polishing my brother's Ivy League résumé.
So I hid. Games. Hours of them. FPS, RPG, MOBAs. I wasn't nobody online. I was top rank. I was dangerous.
And now? Now I was dangerous.
The gods gave me blessings. Strength. Agility. This sword? It sears evil just by touching it. And I had two gorgeous girls by my side—Ysira, with her razor wit and impossible spellwork, and Celestine, the living miracle. Sure, neither of them ever looked at me the way I wanted, but that's fine.
I'll prove myself. In this world, I matter.
"Jake," Celestine said gently, snapping me out of it. "You alright?"
I blinked. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"Then walk and think. Rhaken's Watch isn't far," Ysira said. Her tone was brisk, clipped. She always moved like she had somewhere better to be.
We started walking. The forest was quiet now—mist curling low around our ankles like smoke. Leaves crunched underfoot. The moon hung pale and cold above us, casting everything in silver and shadow.
In this world, I have power. In this world, I'm—
A branch snapped to our right.
I froze.
Hand on the hilt. Pulled the sword free—its light slicing through the dark in a line of gold.
"Who's there?" I called.
Shapes. Four of them. Figures behind the mist. A man stepped forward—tall, pale, red eyes. Good looking. He raised his hands slowly.
"We mean no harm," he said. His voice was smooth. Calm. Too calm.
Another man joined him. Same height, darker hair. And a katana.
And then I saw them—two women. One held a spear, the other—
My breath caught.
The one in the middle… Blonde. Eyes like polished crystal. Hips that flared like sculpture and a small waist. Her chest, the perfect size. She stood high and proud. Her presence hit me like a truck.
Beautiful didn't even begin to cover it.
Could this be fate?
The blonde stepped forward.
"We mean no harm," she said. Her voice was calm—too calm. It carried like silk through the mist, unbothered by the claw marks in the dirt or the lingering stench of sulfur. Her hands were folded behind her back. A stance that accentuated her chest.
"We're just passing through. Heading to Rhaken's Reach for the night."
I narrowed my eyes, stepping closer. Her features sharpened the nearer I got—porcelain skin untouched by frost or sun, lashes long enough to brush her cheek when she blinked. She looked like she belonged in a painting, not a demon-infested wasteland.
"What business do you have there?" I asked, not lowering my blade. I wasn't about to let my guard down, even if my pulse was doing flips.
"Rest. That's all," she said, tilting her head. "We leave for Auresta tomorrow."
A coincidence? I smiled, just a little. "We're headed the same way. Might as well go together."
She smiled back and stepped forward, hand extended.
"Of course. I'm Alliyana," she said. "Let's look after each other, hmm?"
Her handshake was firm. Warm. Confident. She stood eye-to-eye with me—around five foot eight—and carried herself with that effortless poise some noblewomen have. Except she didn't speak like a noble. There was something in her tone—relaxed, steady, almost playful.
I introduced myself, trying to sound cool. "Jake. Jake Carter."
Her brow twitched slightly at the name. Just a flicker. I pretended not to notice.
Yeah, I get it. An American name in a world like this? Might as well wear a sign that says "Otherworlder." But I didn't mind. It set me apart. Made me interesting.
I gestured toward my companions. "That's Celestine, a cleric, and the one trying to avoid eye contact is Ysira."
Celestine offered a polite nod. Ysira gave a silent glance and returned to whatever calculations she was running in her head.
Alliyana turned slightly and waved behind her. "My guards—Ethan, Ban, and Alexa."
They said nothing. Just fell in step behind her like they'd done it a hundred times before.
We kept walking. The fog had settled into our clothes now, clinging like damp sheets.. Leaves rustled above, dry and scratchy. I kept glancing at Alliyana, trying not to make it obvious. She moved like she wasn't worried at all.
Then, after a few minutes of silence, she spoke again.
"Nine beasts. Eleven o'clock."
Her voice was soft, but I felt it in my bones.
I pulled my sword free in one fluid motion, stepping in front of her on instinct. "Stay close."
I looked back.
She was there. But her guards disappeared.
My eyes darted around—panic flared. Where—
"What a chivalrous lad," she said from behind me, her tone amused. "But unnecessary."
"Lad?"
Before I could recover from that, I felt the air shift. Ysira and Celestine darted to my sides, readying spells and miracles. The tension was tight—like the moment before lightning strikes.
Shapes moved in the mist.
But instead of beasts, her guards materialized—silent, efficient. One climbed down from a tree, another peeled out of shadow. No footsteps. No sounds. They didn't even breathe loud.
Alliyana gave a simple nod. "Good job."
I swallowed hard. Whoever these people were… they weren't normal. I didn't feel any divinity from them. No aura. No miracle.
They're strong.
We resumed walking, and I kept sneaking glances at her. My heart was thumping again—not from danger, but something worse. Curiosity. Infatuation. I had to say something.
"So, uh…" I cleared my throat. "How old are you?"
She turned her head slightly, expression unreadable.
"Sixteen."
My shoulders relaxed. Perfect. Same age as Celestine and Ysira. I wasn't weird for thinking she was—
"And you?" she asked, voice light.
"Seventeen," I said, maybe a little too fast.
She didn't comment. Just looked ahead.
But my ears were already burning.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Celestine giving me a look. Not angry. Just... disappointed. I could already hear her teasing me later. I cringed. I probably looked so obvious.
Then—whoosh.
A spear sliced past me, a silver streak through the dark. No warning. No shout.
The corpse came into view.
A demonic bear, at least two tons of muscle and rage, collapsed with a thud that shook the ground. The spear had pierced through its skull like paper.
Alexa walked ahead calmly, yanked the weapon free, and spun it once to flick off the blood. Red drops sizzled as they hit the leaves.
"Huh," Alliyana said, eyes on the corpse. "Bears in this region are smaller than what we're used to."
She sounded... curious. Not in awe. Not alarmed. Just genuinely interested, like someone comparing breeds of livestock.
I stared at her, unsure if I should feel impressed or unsettled.
Maybe both.
Rhaken's Reach came into view just past a bend in the trees. The forest thinned, revealing a sparse scattering of stone houses tucked against the base of a ridge. There was no road—just uneven soil and patches of grass. The climb wasn't steep, but every step felt off. Unnatural. Like the land didn't want us there.
The town looked like it had been abandoned years ago but refused to die. A few flickers of candlelight behind shuttered windows, smoke curling weakly from crooked chimneys. No laughter. No chatter. Just wind, groaning as it passed through warped wood.
"Doesn't this place seem… off?" Celestine asked, hugging her staff to her chest.
"It's better than being torn apart by beasts," Ysira muttered.
She wasn't wrong. But I still felt uneasy.
I glanced back.
Alliyana was calm. Always calm. Her expression unreadable, her posture relaxed. Like she was out for a walk, not stepping into what looked like a murder village.
I cleared my throat. "So… what time are you leaving tomorrow? Maybe we head out together?"
"We're aiming for Bedra County as well," I added. "Rest there before continuing to Auresta."
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes still on the town. "We're heading straight for Auresta."
A beat.
Then groans from her guards.
Ethan dragged a hand down his face. "Can we please slow down for once? We've been running non stop. My legs feel like jelly. Alexa and Ban aren't doing much better."
Alexa didn't argue. She just cracked her neck and gave Alliyana a tired side glance.
Ban said nothing, but the way he exhaled said everything.
Wait. Straight to Auresta?
That wasn't possible. Not on foot. That was at least 3 days and nights, maybe more.
"You were planning to reach Auresta by tomorrow?" I asked.
Alliyana just smiled. "No. They've convinced me otherwise."
She said it with the same tone someone might use to announce they were switching tea flavors. No irritation. No drama.
We made it to the outskirts. Streets cracked under our boots. A stray dog limped across the path and vanished between buildings. The stench of damp wood, sweat, and rot hung in the air—faint but present.
The tavern was the only building still breathing. A warped wooden sign dangled overhead, creaking in the breeze. We stepped inside. The bell above the door gave a lazy chime.
The room fell quiet.
Eyes turned toward us. Men hunched over ale-stained tables looked up. Their stares dragged. Slow. Greedy. A few of them smirked. I felt it like grease under my skin.
Gross.
They weren't subtle either—staring at Celestine's chest, Ysira's hips, Alliyana's legs. I stepped forward instinctively, but Alliyana was already moving.
She walked past us, her guards not flanking her this time. Just her. Unbothered.
She approached the counter. The barkeep was a thick-necked man with a crooked smile and broken teeth. He looked her up and down like a prize pig.
"How much for the night?" she asked plainly.
The man leaned over and grabbed her shoulder. "Free. If you stay with me."
I reached for my sword. Before I could unsheathe it, a hand gripped my arm.
Ethan. I turned to yell at him—
And then the screaming started.
"OKAY—OKAY, FREE, IT'S FREE—JUST LET GO—!"
I looked back.
The man's arm was hanging wrong. Bone jutting beneath flesh. He clutched it, sobbing, eyes wide in terror. His shoulder was already turning purple.
Alliyana stood exactly where she had been. Her expression hadn't changed. Calm. Almost sweet.
"Celestine," she said gently. "Heal him."
Celestine hesitated, her lips parting like she wanted to object. But she didn't. She stepped forward, cast the spell. Light poured from her staff and reknit the broken arm.
The man whimpered. Didn't say thank you. Just crawled behind the counter, eyes fixed on the floor.
I looked at Alliyana again.
She smiled. Not a smirk. Not a glare. A soft, polite smile. She might've just asked about room keys.
"Let's go," she said. "We leave tomorrow."
I didn't move right away. That was the moment I realized something that made my chest tighten. She wasn't calm because she was confident.
She was calm because she never worried. Not about the town. Not about demons. Not even about people. And somehow, that was far more terrifying than any beast we'd fought.