"Hold on! Hold on!"

"Quick, open your eyes, or you'll die... Open your eyes!"

...

Lorvik struggled in the deep, chilly darkness, dazed and disoriented. However, he understood that he couldn't afford to pass out. Fueled by a reluctance to surrender, a force kept him going.

He bit down on his tongue, the metallic and salty taste flooding his throat, causing a burning discomfort in his stomach.

He opened his eyes.In that first glance, he saw the night sky adorned with countless stars and a figure standing beneath it.

"It's truly incredible, surviving such a severe injury. Oryphus, you're truly fortunate." 

The voice was indifferent and cold, as if accustomed to the passage of life, making him slightly uneasy.

Lorvik looked up as the voice continued. His gaze seemed ethereal, but the figure in front of him couldn't go unnoticed.

her azure eyes carried a hint of indifference towards life and death. Draped in a pitch-black robe, she exuded an air of mystery.

Oryphus, fortunate?

What the heck, who is she calling lucky? Lorvik felt bewildered.

It was like walking down the street when suddenly someone rushes up to you, hugging you and crying, "Dead person, where have you been?"

"Normally, the first instinct would be to think it's a scam."

Lorvik thought the same.

Come on, scamming players should have evolved by now. Seriously, it's the Fourth Era. Did they think he just emerged from Omshtead like a newbie?

If they expected him to open his backpack and willingly offer up gold coins and equipment, they were in for a disappointment.

"The deception seemed rather juvenile, Lorvik mused, holding onto this thought as he scrutinized her for several moments. She didn't appear to be a scammer.

After a while, as Lorvik regained his composure, he vigorously shook his head. Now wasn't the time to dwell on these convoluted thoughts. With a snort, despite being filled with doubts, he didn't want to remain lying there, continuously watching her.

What were those guild teleporters doing? A simple interregional teleportation shouldn't have landed him in such a peculiar place.

Damn it! Their salaries should be deducted, preventing this bunch from consuming so many resources while constantly whining about being poor.

If it delayed dungeon progress, he'd make them all participate in gold runs to compensate for the guild's losses.

With these thoughts in mind, Lorvik subconsciously attempted to use his right hand to support himself and stand up. However, as soon as he rose, his body staggered, the world spinning, and he uncontrollably fell to the ground, the icy soil unceremoniously pressing against his face.

Spitting out the dirt at the corner of his mouth, he admitted it felt unusual. He had never felt so weak, to the point that even struggling to stand seemed incredibly challenging. It was as if after a severe illness, your whole body protested, urging you to lie down and sleep for a day; your pals couldn't endure it any longer.

His immediate reaction was to make sure that the rowdy friends from the Tyrant's Calamity guild didn't see him like this. If they did, it would undoubtedly be captured by the system sprite, posted on the forum, and he'd become famous.

"The Number One Sword Saint in the Domestic Server (the ragdoll on touch) - Guaranteed to hit millions of clicks."

Damn, just thinking about those idle friends gave him a headache.

When the domestic server synchronized with the global one and foreign experts flooded in, if he didn't seriously achieve accomplishments and practice his skills, embarrassing moments during competitions could become a big deal.

Though entertaining these thoughts, trust prevailed.

His scattered musings aimed at steadying his own mentality.

Everything seemed so strange to him. In fact, when opening his eyes for the first time and seeing the starry sky, the only thought in his mind was absurdity.

He hadn't seen such a starry sky in a long time.

Ever since the downfall of the Saint in the latest update, the celestial bodies representing the gods had long extinguished. How could there still be such a sky full of stars?

"Unless the game company goes crazy and resurrects the gods, otherwise, it can only be a system bug."

Where on earth did those teleporters send him? He muttered to himself, and the ominous feeling in his heart intensified. He reached out, attempting to support himself to stand up, but his touch encountered dampness.

To his astonishment, he discovered his right leg was covered in blood, forming a pool beneath him. Startled, he stood up abruptly, his heart pounding. How was it possible? The game had undergone debugging for anything related to blood; any blood would be pixelated. How could it be so vivid, the scent of this blood so realistic? 

Damn it.

He also noticed his clothes were stained with blood. Taking a few deep breaths, he steadied his emotions, choosing not to dwell on these matters for now.

Standing on a vantage point offered a different view than lying on the ground. As Lorvik looked into the distance, all he could see were dark needleleaf trees.

When the wind blew, the crowns swayed, and the shadowy trees seemed like specters in the darkness, making everything feel unfamiliar to Lorvik.

Squinting, he carefully observed the person in front of him. He noticed the five fingers pointing skyward on her cuff, surrounded by intertwining thorn patterns. If he remembered correctly, this style seemed to be the attire of a Northland Elven sorcerer. The five fingers pointing to the sky symbolized exploration, while the thorns entwining around represented the challenges one encounters during exploration – a symbol of rank as well.

However, ever since the Battle of Bavolot ended, these sorcerers had disappeared without a trace. In the long years that followed, Lorvik nearly forgot about this magical organization that had once been active in history.

"Who are you?" he asked with a hint of interest, realizing he had spoken in Elvish—a language he hadn't used in a long time, a complex grammar imbued with subtle tones, sounding exquisitely beautiful.

The figure in front of him, with pointed ears, was unmistakably an elf. "Observing her closely, he noticed she looked relatively young for an elf, as if she had just undergone the coming-of-age ceremony."The cool-toned attire added a touch of maturity.

The elf paid no mind and had been scrutinizing him with an odd look since Lorvik woke up. She muttered, "Survived but lost your memory, fresh material."

But she seemed displeased, "Really, forgot everything? Home said they'd help me, and now, it's an extra burden."

Material, how troublesome. Lorvik's immediate reaction was as such. He detested these magic-oriented factions, mostly individuals willing to pay any price for magical research.

However, it gave him a sort of explanation—amnesia, physical changes. He had an uneasy feeling since he woke up, subconsciously ignoring this sense of unease.

Nonetheless, as a professional player, a profession meant representing expertise and staying calm in the face of challenges.

But she didn't disappoint Lorvik, even though she seemed a bit impatient. "Really forgot?"

She seemed to hesitate and explained, " "Your name is Oryphus, a sword duelist Oryphus.". I am Elenia Amastasha, your companion. Our mission is to convey the news of the breached front lines to the centaur tribes in the Ironwood Forest. The centaurs there have had a friendship with our elves for centuries. Their warriors are marching to the front lines alongside our elven forces. We must inform them to prepare for a retreat."

Lorvik muttered to himself, "Moon Creek?"

He understood the elven naming conventions. Elenia was her given name, Amastasha was her family name, signifying "Moon Creek." It was quite an intriguing clan.

Amastasha boasted a production of numerous wizards and scholars, yet the chaotic blood within them rendered them more as unpredictable madmen than anything else. 

In elven society, there is a saying: "Thank the Mother Goddess that my friend comes from Amastasha. Knowledgeable and skilled in magic, he's my dear companion. Difficulties meekly lie at our feet. But I beg you, keep me away from him."

Though said in jest, it highlighted the unpredictable nature of an Amastasha—whether a rationalist or an unpredictable madman, the chaotic blood within them often led to inexplicable actions.

However, he seemed to lack a family,

"His name is Oryphus, but he didn't mention a family name. This could only mean he was a wild elf—a lower-class civilian among the elves. Without a clan in the game, he was missing many characteristics."

Attributes in the game represent many attribute bonuses.

Generally, when a player starts, they have two types of attributes: racial attributes and personal attributes. For example, as for racial attributes, elves can cast spells silently, moving like the wind.

Personal attributes are innate talents, such as some suitable for wizards, like "Source of Magic," which increases magic recovery by thirty percent, which is quite exaggerated.

Even luckier, if born into certain families, there are family attributes. However, many elf players complained back in the day that their births were unfortunate, lacking even family attributes. Yet, with effort, they could still surpass those born into one of the twelve elf families.

Being born into a family has its drawbacks compared to wild elves. One of them is that the family commands you not to rebel, or you lose all family bonuses and are considered a traitor.

The Northern Elves have twelve families. In the colonization era, they followed the queen to the North, clearing thorns and cutting through brambles, expelling the snake tribes that occupied the North, and together, they established the prosperous civilization of the Northern Elves. For their merits, they were ennobled as privileged among the elves.

However, as thousands of years passed, most families among the twelve became symbols of decay, ruled by vulgar leaders. Many players couldn't tolerate their rule, leading not only to plans to overthrow the twelve families but also numerous complaints to the game company. We play games; games don't play us. Why should we listen to these eternal beings?

Although this is said, the family bonuses in the early stages of the game are still quite good.

These pieces of information quickly passed through Lorvik 's mind. As a professional player, he could recite this game information like the back of his hand. However, he couldn't help but stroke his chin, revealing a wry smile.

Oryphus, what a strange name, just like the unfamiliar environment he found himself in now. But the profession is not bad—a sword duelist, the basic class in the Elf Legion. Upward, there are three career lines, quite promising.

Thinking of this, he also confirmed a thought in his heart. He was slightly afraid but also somewhat expectant.

This feeling is strange. If one were to describe it, it would be excitement, it would be anticipation, it would be the expectation that transcends everything. He longs...

He took a deep breath, and the impulse in his heart could no longer be suppressed.

"What year is it this year?"

Hearing Lorvik ask, Elenia, with sapphire-like eyes, glanced at him: "You've lost your memory completely forgotten."

She took a few steps forward, but her voice floated over with the night wind. The voice was low, but to Lorvik , it thundered!

"The Prosperous and Summer Year, the two hundred and thirty-fourth of the Second Era."

Hearing this, his body seemed to be ruthlessly hit by a giant hammer, stepping back a few steps. But then he straightened up, taking deep breaths, the cool air entering his lungs, refreshing.

The Prosperous and Summer Year, the two hundred and thirty-fourth of the Second Era...

He slightly lowered his eyelids. Sure enough, a transmigration or rebirth.

He clearly remembered that the game's timeline was already in the Fourth Era. How could he return to the Second Era?

Most importantly, why did he become another person? This kind of incredible, absurd feeling made him unable to help but shout, "It's unscientific!"

However, Lorvik didn't panic at all.

What's there to panic about? In the era he is in now, the concept of family has long disappeared. Unified care is provided by the national government, and with advanced technology and no wars, all he needs to do is live a good life day by day.

For the disappearance of the previous world, it has no impact on him at all.

Now, in an inexplicable way, some divine being has brought him to such a new world. There's nothing to panic about; why panic! And the reason he could accept it so quickly, although it's not described as in many novels, with sudden headaches and a mess of memories from peeing in diapers to writing love letters, completely accepted regardless of whether anyone wants to accept it.

Existence is reasonable. This has always been his belief. Even in another world, even when reborn or transmigrated into a game, he must live brilliantly.