After listening to all of them, Lyerin could see the horror etched on their faces.
Each person's tale of stress and fear in this unknown ruined magical world and the apocalyptic reality they came from hung in the air like a palpable weight.
The horrifying memories were reflected in their eyes, as if a mirror to his own tormented past back in his first life.
As all their stories told off, a silence fell over the group, the atmosphere was thick with shared pain and silent understanding.
Lyerin took a deep breath, deciding to share his own story, hoping to provide them with some perspective and perhaps a glimmer of hope. "I understand what you're all going through," he began, his voice steady but empathetic. "I, too, was sent to a dangerous place—an unknown tribe. I was a spy, and if I were discovered, death would have been the least of my worries."
The group leaned in closer, their expressions a mix of curiosity and fear.
Lyerin continued, "I was the only one left alive because the tribe found it amusing to keep me around. They wanted to see how much a foreigner could endure, to toy with me for their amusement. Every hour was a battle to stay unnoticed, to survive. I thought I would be there forever, but fortunately, I was sent here."
His voice grew more intense as he spoke, drawing the listeners into his tale. "In an hour, I discovered something... something that changed everything." Lyerin paused, letting the suspense build as he scanned their faces, meeting each person's gaze with determination. "One of the tribesmen turned my left hand into a monstrous goat hand. They threatened to torture and kill those who were with me if I didn't comply. At that time, I didn't know who my comrades were, but I refused to follow the tribe's commands."
The room was silent, hanging on his every word. "Yet, even though I refused, I soon discovered they could still control my hand. It moved against my will, and I- uh-" Lyerin paused, and continued, "killed my comrades with my own hands."
The group was shocked, looking at him and thinking he was still a teenager.
He looked around the room, his eyes locking onto each person's for a moment before continuing. "In the real world, when I didn't have a weapon anymore, I miraculously used that monstrous hand to kill the rabid zombies. The same hand that I used to kill people."
Lyerin's storytelling was so vivid and convincing that the listeners could almost see the scenes playing out before them. "Maybe," he said, his voice filled with conviction, "if we learn something from this ruined magical world, although it's dangerous, it can save us in real life. Every trial, every bit of pain we endure here, could be the key to our survival back home."
Soon, they all stared at him.
Lyerin continued, "We need to adapt, to use what we've learned here. This world, as harsh as it is, might be preparing us for something greater. Maybe we could use this to fight against these flesh eating beasts"
Suddenly, one of the men in the carriage narrowed his eyes at Lyerin. "How do we know you're telling the truth?" he asked, his voice laden with suspicion.
Another person, a woman with a scar across her cheek, joined in. "Yeah, how do we know you aren't just trying to trick us or manipulate us for your own gain?"
Their questions sparked a wave of doubt that quickly spread through the group.
Murmurs of questions filled the cramped space as nearly everyone turned their wary eyes towards Lyerin. "What if he's working for the Borgias family?" someone else added, the fear and paranoia evident in their tone.
Lyerin held his tongue, he could only sigh. Then, without a word, he raised his left hand. The air seemed to hum with anticipation.
Slowly, his hand began to transform.
Veins bulge and twist, the skin darkening and thickening. Bones cracked and realigned, fingers elongating into gnarled claws. Within moments, his hand was no longer human but a monstrous, goat-like appendage.
It was grotesque and can make their skin crawl to look at.
Gasps erupted from the group. One of the younger men recoiled, his eyes wide with shock. "What... what is that?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
A middle-aged woman clasped her hands to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh my God," she muttered, with her voice trembling. "It's true. He wasn't lying."
A burly man who had been skeptical earlier now looked at Lyerin with a mix of fear and awe. "I've never seen anything like it," he said, his voice hushed. Another person, a young woman with curly hair, couldn't tear her eyes away from the grotesque transformation. "Is this what we're up against?" she asked, her voice tinged with both dread and fascination.
The reactions varied.
Some people were visibly terrified, others seemed awestruck, and a few even appeared curious, as if trying to understand the extent of Lyerin's words he told them.
Just as more questions were about to burst forth from their mouths, the carriage suddenly trembled uncontrollably.
The violent shaking threw everyone into a frenzy, scrambling to grab hold of anything solid.
"Hold on to something!"
Lyerin shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Some clutched at the wooden walls of the carriage, their knuckles turning white from the strain.
Others held onto each other, seeking stability and comfort in the midst of the turbulence. The entire structure creaked and groaned, with the sounds of splintering wood mingling with their panicked breaths.
Lyerin's body moved with a calculated precision, though he masked it under a facade of shock. His muscles trembled as he braced himself, making his movements appear shaky and uncertain.
When the carriage finally came to an abrupt halt, he wasted no time.
Kabang!
With a powerful kick, he forced the door open and stepped outside, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a glint of readiness.
The group followed, stepping into a forest bathed in an eerie daylight.
The sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting long, sinister shadows on the forest floor.
Despite the daylight, the atmosphere was oppressively making the hair on their back stand up, as if the forest itself harbored some dark secrets they don't have a desire to find out.
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the distant calls of unknown creatures added to the unsettling ambiance.
"What is this place?" one of the men asked, his voice barely masking his fear. "Why does it feel so wrong?" a woman added, looking around with wide, anxious eyes. Another person, clutching their coat tightly around them, muttered, "It's like the light itself is hiding something."
Their attention was quickly drawn to the creature that had been pulling their carriage. It lay on the ground, lifeless and still, with its massive body sprawled out awkwardly.
The once formidable shadow rat-like beast now looked pitiful, its chest unmoving. But just as they began to process the sight, the creature's body twitches violently.
"Did you see that?" someone exclaimed, their voice high-pitched with panic. The creature twitched again, its movements erratic and unsettling. "It's... it's moving!" another person cried out, taking a step back in fear.
The twitching grew more intense, each spasm shaking its entire body. "What's happening to it?" someone whispered, their voice barely audible. With one final, convulsive shudder, the creature vomited a dark, viscous substance onto the ground. The group recoiled in horror, their faces twisted in disgust and fear.
As they stood there, trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed, a scroll suspended in the air with a message made of blood appeared before them, written in blood-red letters on a piece of parchment that seemed to materialize out of nowhere:
[ The Borgias family only looks after the strong descendants. Be prepared and survive. Fail or Die! ]