Onver's body lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by remnants of flesh and blood from the opponent he had just fought. His hands were clenched tightly around his head as if he was suffering from something bad. The only movable part of his body seemed to be his hands.
"Where the hell did Undeama go?" an unknown voice echoed. The bushes moved as if someone was walking into them.
"He ran here, I saw him coming here," a terrified voice replied.
The bushes continued to move. "Whatever you know, if we don't capture him, the prince is going to send us to that death game."
"Y-yeah, I know," the terrified voice stuttered.
"Don't worry, he was injured. I'm sure he didn't go too far," the first voice reassured.
Two figures revealed themselves from the bushes. One of them stepped onto the grass first and moved his hand, revealing two figures wearing black cloth from head to toe. They were also wearing black masks and looked identical to each other.
"What the hell?" one of the figures exclaimed, placing his hand on his head.
They both saw Onver's figure lying in the middle of the ground, seemingly unaware of the mess surrounding his body. A purple liquid covered his body, drenching him from head to toe. Remains of blue flesh were scattered around his body, resembling human inner organs.
Both figures sighed in fear, their faces covered with paper masks. They realized that the figure they were pursuing was dead, and the killer was a young human boy.
"The position and the blast in the opponent's body indicate that it was his first kill on the island and the first time he inherited something from his opponent," one of the figures said. "We have to explain ourselves to the prince."
"Who is he? Is he an assassin?" the other figure asked.
"Let's bring him to the prince," the first figure replied. "Go search for his belongings."
With that, both of them started to do their work.
—--------
[Onver pov]
I opened my eyes, still feeling lingering remnants of pain in my head, like a hangover from a late-night drink. As my thoughts cleared, foreign memories rushed in, presenting me with knowledge of a strange language.
With my eyes closed, I began to recognize some unfamiliar characters, realizing that they belonged to the alphabet of three different languages. More information assimilated in my mind in just a few seconds, granting me a complete understanding of these three languages, including their grammar, punctuation, and verb usage.
Along with this newfound knowledge, insights about the island began to form in my mind. It became clear to me that this island was more than just a place - it was a battlefield, more accurately described as a legacy battlefield.
Some enigmatic masters had passed down their teachings to the younger generation, leading to unexpected battles for hidden knowledge and artefacts from different eras and worlds,
Every legacy battlefield followed certain rules, and the rule on this island was that when someone defeated their opponent, they could not only claim victory but also acquire some of the loser's memories. This gave them an advantage in surviving future encounters.
As I delved deeper into understanding the legacy battlefield, thoughts of a dungeon filled my mind.
Opening my eyes, I found myself in what appeared to be a prison cell, my back against a solid wall. It was a dim and gloomy room, Dark shadows surrounded me, and a faint light crept in from outside, making the surroundings eerie.
The room outside seemed to mirror the one I was in - another small prison consisting of only four cells. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed, alerting me to the presence of someone nearby. Step by step, the sound grew closer, casting a sinister shadow in my mind. Though unable to see the figure clearly, I remained still, waiting for their arrival.
In an attempt to defend myself, I snapped my fingers, intending to create a barrier, but to my dismay, I realized I could not;t access atmosphere mana. Frustration washed over me as I acknowledged my limitations.
A man with red hair and emerald eyes, clad in sweat-stained armour emerged, standing before me. He acknowledged my awakening, once again, I attempted to cast a barrier with a flick of my finger, only to meet with defeat. The man warned me not to make such futile attempts and instructed me to follow him.
The door of the prison moved-merging it with the ground. It seemed that the prisons in this place could move and merge into the land.
Accepting defeat, I understood that recklessness would only lead to more trouble, especially when I lacked access to mana. Without knowing my exact position, I needed to gather information about where I was and how I ended up there.
The man led me to an empty room constructed with translucent walls illuminating a blue field. I couldn't discern its purpose, but it seemed to act like a transparent pathway. While the person on the other side could see me, I couldn't see.
The man gestured for me to sit on the ground as he sat in front of me on a chair.
Frustration surged within me as he insulted me, expecting me to obey his command. I remained standing, refusing to conform to his expectations. With a cheeky expression, he smiled, as if he had expected my defiance.
"So, who sent you?" he asked, to which I stayed silent, unable to answer, and more importantly, I couldn't answer
"Are you an assassin ?" he inquired again, but once again, I remained silent, refusing to give him any satisfaction.
The figure in front of me continued, expressing his desire to ask me in a way that would provide him an excuse to torture me.
His sadistic words suggested "If you do not answer me, I'll cut your fingers one by one and then I'll fry them up and then force you to eat them. " With each word, the smile on his face bloomed little by little reaching his ear.
"After that, I'll heal it and then repeat that process "
This time the corner of his lips was at the same level as his ear.
" Again and again. Wouldn't it be a perfect sight to behold!"
Strangely, a smile emerged on my lips, as his twisted words sparked an odd interest within me. My anger somehow subsided, and I couldn't explain why I wanted to do that same thing he described to him but with a twist First I'll cook his finger on his palm adding the spicy to it I'll not cut his palm it'll attach to his hand after thoroughly cooked I'll give him that to eat.
But I am unable to do that right now
The man explained that, for now, he could not fulfil his desires because of a princess who ordered him not to do anything reckless with him.
He revealed that they had examined my body and found no magical core, concluding that I couldn't be a magician.
However, he expressed doubt about my unexpected strength and how I managed to survive the onslaught of undead without any spell or stored mana.
The man speculated "Maybe you had encountered an accident and stumbled upon this island, but that does not explain, how you were able to stay alive away from the curse! "
This piqued my curiosity. Why was he sharing information with me instead of extracting it from me?
As I observed him, a thought crossed my mind. He reminded me of non-playable characters (NPCs) from the games I used to play. Sometimes they would give pointless quests with no real purpose, or provide random information like, "Hey, do you know what happened yesterday?"
I shook my head, trying to dismiss these thoughts. It couldn't be that I was in a game, could it? I needed to focus on the present situation. Still, the question remained: Why was he sharing this information with me?
Then he asked a question that I couldn't quite comprehend. "Are you immune to the curse of the undead?" His words were sudden, and I found myself fixated on his eyes. After he finished speaking, his pupils changed and started rotating.
"There is a possibility that the Legacy Battlefield has chosen you," he said, filling my mind with terrifying possibilities. What if... What if he could read my thoughts and know what my answer would be?