"GASP!"
I woke gasping for air, and as soon as my eyes opened, I jumped to my feet, a spell ready on my staff.
However, when clarity returned to my mind, I realized the strangeness of my situation. I was in a desert, certainly, but not in Caelid.
The sand was yellow, the sky was blue, and rock formations loomed in the distance. I couldn't find the Redmane Castle or the nearby sea, only an almost endless expanse.
I scratched my head in confusion, calling out the names of my companions, but received no response.
This wasn't a memory, so perhaps I'd been transported to a region I hadn't yet explored.
I conjured a miracle to return, and for a moment I appeared in Caelid, but something pulled me back, and I found myself at my original destination.
I tried using the Homeward Bones and the Aged Feather, but nothing happened; an unknown force prevented me from leaving.
The willpower required to contain my outburst of rage was unimaginable, but it didn't stop me from screaming and stomping the ground in frustration.
Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I sat on the sand, drinking potions and healing myself. My body was as good as new now, but my mind was heavily weary.
I don't know how long I spent with the hot sun burning my head, but when I felt I had had enough rest, I called Torrent, patted his head, and rode away.
Hours later, I found myself with a major problem: boredom. I never imagined I would miss Godwyn whispering nonsense in my ear.
Suddenly, a familiar sensation shattered the silence: I had absorbed a soul. I looked around, praying I hadn't accidentally killed someone, and searching for the source of the disturbance.
A tower of smoke rose in the distance, and from there, several souls were heading toward me.
I jerked Torrent's reins, galloping off, and spotted a village carved into the side of a rock formation, fire and smoke billowing from its doors and windows while every wooden building burned fiercely in the streets.
There were two groups of people fighting: one of them was the locals, judging by their ordinary clothes and the tools they used for combat, while the other must have been mercenaries, judging by their makeshift armor and shoddy weapons.
For a moment, I thought everyone in this village was a Misbegotten or an Omen, as each of them—men, women, and children—had a pair of horns on their heads, each shaped slightly differently. But unlike the beings of the Lands Between, they had human appearances.
I sent Torrent away and approached with a hurried step. One of the mercenaries, in dark leather armor with gray metal plates, pointed in my direction and said something.
"העלא, ס'איז דא נאך איינס!"
I didn't understand a word, so I didn't waste time arguing. The attacker swung his straight sword at me, and though the blow was swift, it was still too slow to reach me.
I stepped to the side and cast Great Combustion, melting his head and half his body. His legs fell to the ground with a thud, drawing the attention of the rest of the group.
"פוי! ווער איז יענער ריז?!"
As they approached, I noticed something else: everyone here was too short compared to me, or was I just too tall?
I was used to being stared down by giant humans like the Ivory King, the Fume Knight, the Old Dragonslayer, and many others, not to mention, of course, the inhabitants of the Lands Between, so this was the first time I'd towered over someone.
Abandoning my musings, I cast Dark Greatsword, splitting three mercenaries in two while others following close behind were blown to pieces.
Crossbow bolts tore through the air, but I easily parried them with a swing of my shield, and with a snap of my fingers, a fireball floated in front of the windows where the mercenaries were.
On the one hand, the explosion destroyed my enemies, on the other, I ended up setting fire to one of the few houses that remained unharmed.
"עלבע! רוף די מאַגישער!"
The surviving mercenaries backed away, trying to slowly surround me, but I could see the trembling in their bodies and the fear in their eyes.
A new type of adversary joined the fray, wearing dark cloths that concealed their appearance and carrying staffs.
The magic they wielded was unknown, but three fireballs flew toward me.
I resisted the urge to cast Forbidden Sun. I didn't want to destroy the village in a Pyromancy duel. So I raised my chime and cast Wrath of the Gods, repelling the three fireballs.
The powerful shockwave stunned the enemy sorcerers, and that was their end. Three swift Lightning Spears, each to their hearts, sent them crashing to the ground.
I spread my arms in defiance, waiting to see who would be next. Fortunately, the mercenaries made the wise choice and fled screaming.
"אַ מאָנסטער, בײַ קאַזדעל, יענער ריז איז אַ מאָנסטער!"
Now that only left the villagers and me. Apprehensive eyes watched me from every corner. I saw men stepping between their wives and children and me.
A horned man stepped forward, gripping the handle of his shovel tightly. I doubt he could hurt me, but I would leave if necessary; these people have suffered enough.
"Listen, I mean no harm; I just need some information, then I'll be on my way."
Unfortunately, they responded in the same, unknown language, so communication would be futile. However, someone shouted from the crowd, and to my relief, it was something I could understand.
"STOP!"
A well-built but elderly-looking man marched toward me, and the people around us obeyed his commands.
Hm… Probably the village chief.
"W-what d-do you want here, s-stranger?"
His stutter seemed to stem more from unfamiliarity with the language than fear, but having to lift his head to look me in the eye didn't give him the bravery he'd hoped for.
"I'm just a traveler hoping to find my way home. I'm lost, so I'd like some directions."
"A-ask whatever you want, but you'll have to leave. We don't want m-more trouble."
"I know this may sound strange, but what language are we speaking right now?"
"Leithanien, b-but mine is rusty."
I've never heard of that language, though I don't know the name of the language I've always spoken and read. More lost memories.
"Right, next question, what is the name of this land and its people?"
Confusion appeared on the man's face as if I'd asked what color the sky was. Hesitating, he answered as if expecting some kind of trick.
"Y-you're in the m-middle of Kazdel, and Sarkaz is h-what my people c-call themselves."
I had a bad feeling, and my next questions would confirm it.
"Have you ever heard of the Kingdom of Drangleic or the Lands Between?"
A negative shake of his head made me scream internally. I was further from my goal than I could have imagined.
"Tell me, would you mind hosting me in your village? I am proficient in the arts of healing and repairing damage. I am willing to work in exchange for more knowledge."
I tried to speak in a gentle tone while offering a forced smile that failed to be friendly. The man took a step back in surprise and deep thought.
Meanwhile, I cursed every God I knew for not letting me rest.
END OF CHAPTER