—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
I liked playing games, but I never wanted to actually enter one. Of course, I fantasized about it when I was younger, but by my mid-thirties, such desires had faded. Yet, here I was, in a scenario straight out of a clichéd novel. It was utterly insane.
The world of the Armenian RPG was a ‘medieval fantasy.’
A medieval era, where a feudal system was reality.
Fantasy, a land rampant with monsters and magic.
For a man in his thirties with a beer belly, it was a world where you’d likely end up dead within three days.
My survival hinged on the newfound robustness and strength of my body, and the fact that I could level up by gaining experience points.
Despite these factors making survival somewhat easier, was mere survival truly living? Was breathing the same as living? For someone like me, accustomed to the ease, speed, and comfort of modern life, this world was difficult, slow, and uncomfortable.
Somehow, I seemed to have adapted a bit. But the fact that I had adapted only made me more frustrated. Why was I here? What had I done wrong? Had I broken the law or killed someone?
Knock knock. Someone was knocking at the door. Valian put aside the scrap of paper he was writing on and opened the door. It was the innkeeper.
“Ah, my apologies for disturbing you, sir, but do you happen to have any paper and ink in your room?”
“Why do you ask?”
The innkeeper hesitated upon hearing Valian’s deep voice and seeing his towering presence and the longsword at his hip. But business was business.
“Oh, those were left by a previous guest. I forgot to clear them out. I need them now, would you mind giving them to me?”
Valian nodded and handed over the papers and ink, except for the top sheet he was writing on, to the innkeeper. Realizing he should compensate, Valian also handed over a coin for the used paper.
After the innkeeper left, Valian opened the window of his room, lost in thought.
The sun was nearly set. The world was bathed in a red twilight, casting a subtle glow on everything, including the city of Noife below.
Noife, the largest trade city in the northeast, was busy, dirty, and noisy, much like any other city.
From the second-floor window, Valian could see men, women, elderly, children, and occasionally a fairy or dwarf. They all seemed busy, too preoccupied to pay attention to others.
The city was a chaotic mix of tall and short buildings, wide first floors and narrow fourth floors, all constructed of wood and plaster. It pulsed with life, or at least that’s how Valian felt.
He closed the window and lay down on the bed, planning to visit Noife Square tomorrow. In such a big, dirty city, there was bound to be something to do, even if it was just hunting ghosts in sewers or small goblins.
Valian chuckled to himself. He should have created a mage character instead of a warrior. Maybe then he would be comfortably advising a lord or king by now. Damn.
At least he was fortunate to have the body of a barbarian, even if it was only good for killing monsters and people. Without it, he’d likely be dead already.
Valian fell asleep with these thoughts, dreaming of a trip to Burger King. The burger, cola, and fries were delicious, delicious enough to realize it was a dream.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“Definitely some evil monster, and a cunning one at that! How else would it know that breaking just this wall would reveal my storage?”
A merchant with a finely groomed beard was ranting about someone who had broken into his wine storage, destroying expensive bottles before disappearing.
To Valian, it seemed like a few small goblins from the sewers had smelled human scent and caused the ruckus. Yes, goblins could be evil and cunning, but they were no match for a single armed soldier, being as weak as they were.
Valian listened to the merchant’s growing delusions—a three-meter-tall demon with a snake’s tail and bat wings—before sending him on his way.
Then, he squeezed through the small hole the goblins had used to enter. In reality, sealing and reinforcing the hole would have been enough to prevent their return, as goblins were too weak to break through a reinforced barrier.
But such an easy and cheap solution wouldn’t keep Valian fed. If he handled jobs that way, he would have starved long ago. Valian planned to exaggerate the threat for a higher payout, using a few goblin heads as proof.
Being large, he expanded the hole nearly twice its size to enter the dark sewers. The sewers were damp and smelly, with shallow water running along the bottom.
But Valian walked on, unfazed. Suddenly, something moved in the darkness ahead.
“Kikikyak!”
Four pairs of red eyes shone menacingly. Goblins. Foolish creatures of the dark, easily defeated by even one armed soldier. But to Valian, they were potential coins.
“Good, found you quickly.”
It didn’t matter whether these were the goblins from the merchant’s wine storage. Either way, they were proof of Valian’s effort.
“Kweeeek!”
The goblins, hairless and disgustingly green, charged at him, holding tiny daggers despite their weakness. Their hatred for all things on the surface was as deep as any other evil spirit’s.
Valian pulled out a hand ax from behind and threw it casually.
The ax flew with neither casual speed nor force, splitting the head of the lead goblin and continuing into the chest of another.
“Kweeeek?”
The remaining goblins paused in shock. Valian approached, his large strides quickly closing the distance. He drew his broadsword and swung it, effortlessly cutting one in half. He raised his sword, preparing to split the last one diagonally.
“Kweeeek! Help, master!”
Master?
Valian stepped back, alert for any unseen threats. If someone was commanding these goblins, it could be dangerous.
The goblin turned and fled, dropping its dagger.
Valian stood for a moment before retrieving his hand ax from a goblin corpse. Clever trick, he thought.
He considered whether to collect the goblin heads for the merchant’s payment or chase the crafty little demon to slice it in two. The decision was easy.
Valian put the ax back and followed the goblin’s escape route. He was curious. The goblin had immediately called for its master, suggesting there might be a real master controlling it. A sewer master controlling goblins sounded like it could offer a lot of experience points.
Noife’s sewers, expanded and repaired over the years, were complex and filthy. Valian had to move quickly to not lose the goblin, but he trusted his keen senses and intuition. Taking his time might even increase his chances of encountering this master.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Gasping for air, the goblin had somehow made it back to its master but was exhausted.
The master was busy with elaborate vessels, fire, and bubbling liquids. If the goblin had been smarter or more knowledgeable, it would have recognized these as alchemy tools of considerable sophistication.
But the goblin didn’t care about such things. It tugged at its master’s trousers. The master turned around.
“What? Did you bring more wine? I haven’t finished the last batch yet.”
The goblin shook its head.
“Kikik! Master! My brothers, they’re dead! All killed!”
The master then noticed the goblin was alone.
“Who did you guys annoy this time? What did you do?”
“Kikii… We didn’t annoy anyone… He just came and killed them all.”
“You need to learn how to speak again. What do you mean ‘killed them all’?”
“Kikik…”
After scolding the goblin’s grammar, the master picked up a staff that had been leaning against the wall. It was a long, white wooden staff.
“Fine, let’s go see where your brothers died. I’ll have to teach whoever did this a lesson.”
The master walked a few steps ahead, then stopped.
“…Actually, no need. They’ve come to us.”
Valian emerged from the dark passage, crossing from light into shadow as if rising from a sea of darkness.
The master studied him closely.
Tall, possibly over 190 centimeters, maybe even 2 meters. His long, black hair was tied back, with strands sticking out untidily. He wore leather armor overlaid with chains, which didn’t seem particularly high-quality.
His muscular physique suggested difficulty in finding armor to fit his large frame. The broadsword at his waist looked crudely effective for swinging.
A typical northern warrior, possibly even a barbarian from beyond the perennial snows of Aynakio. The master spoke.
“Ah, a warrior capable of slaying dragons, yet lurking in sewers? What brings you here?”
Valian smiled slightly, revealing a hint of fang, like the grin of a predator.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
