Ray followed the warrior silently, his mind spinning with a thousand questions. The battlefield grew distant behind them, but the sounds of clashing steel and monstrous roars still echoed in his ears. The warrior led him through a narrow forest path, where the glowing trees cast soft light on their path, like stars hanging low in the sky.
"Where are we going?" Ray finally asked, his voice hesitant.
"To our camp," the warrior replied without looking back. "We've been fighting this war for years, but our numbers are small. You'll be safe there."
Ray nodded, though the word "safe" felt strange in a world like this. Nothing about it felt safe. The beasts, the magic, the endless battles—it was all so foreign. But at least, for the moment, he wasn't alone.
After a few minutes of walking, the trees parted, revealing a small clearing. In the center of it was a campsite, with several tents arranged in a rough circle around a central fire. Four figures sat around the fire, their attention shifting immediately to Ray as he and the warrior approached.
"This is Ray," the warrior said, gesturing toward him. "I found him near the battlefield. He's not from here."
The others looked at Ray, their expressions a mix of curiosity and surprise. He shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, unsure of what to say or do.
The warrior turned to face him. "I'm Alfred, leader of this group." He gestured toward the others. "That's Luisa, our archer," he said, nodding toward a woman with sharp eyes and long, dark hair tied back into a braid. She had a bow slung over her back and looked at Ray with a small, welcoming smile.
"Jura, our shield-bearer," Alfred continued, pointing to a tall, heavily armored man sitting by the fire. Jura gave a brief nod, his broad shoulders and massive shield leaning against a nearby tree.
"Rheana, our priestess," Alfred said, motioning toward a young woman in white robes, her hands glowing faintly with healing magic. She smiled warmly at Ray, her gentle eyes filled with kindness.
"And Alex, our mage." Alfred finished, pointing toward a man who was seated cross-legged on the ground, his fingers tracing arcane symbols in the air. Alex gave Ray a quick glance, his eyes filled with sharp intelligence, before returning his focus to the spell he was working on.
Ray swallowed nervously. These were the heroes—brave, powerful, and capable of magic that was beyond his comprehension. And here he was, just an ordinary guy with no powers, standing in the presence of legends.
"What's your story?" Luisa asked, her voice soft but curious.
Ray hesitated. "I don't really know. One minute, I was in my world, and the next… I woke up here." He glanced around, his eyes falling on the weapons and armor around the camp. "I don't know how or why, but I don't belong here. I'm not like you. I don't have any powers, no magic. I'm just… me."
For a moment, the group was silent, then Jura let out a small chuckle. "None of us started out strong," he said, his voice deep and rumbling. "Power isn't just handed to you, kid. You earn it."
"Jura's right," Alfred added, his tone more serious. "You may not have magic, but that doesn't mean you can't become strong. We can train you—if you're willing to learn."
Ray blinked in surprise. "You… you'd help me? Even though I'm just a civilian?"
Rheana smiled. "Everyone starts somewhere, Ray. Besides, you wouldn't have survived this long if you didn't have something inside you. It may take time, but if you want to grow stronger, we'll help."
Ray felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he didn't have magic, but he had something far more valuable now—a chance. A chance to become more than just a powerless outsider. He nodded slowly. "I want to learn. I don't want to stay weak forever."
Alfred smiled faintly. "Good. Training starts tomorrow."
__________________________________________
The next morning, Ray woke up to the sound of clashing steel. He rubbed his eyes and pushed himself out of the small tent they had given him for the night. The clearing was already bustling with activity—Alfred was practicing sword strikes, his movements fluid and powerful. Jura stood nearby, holding his massive shield as if it weighed nothing, blocking Alfred's strikes with ease.
"Up already?" Luisa called out from a nearby tree. She sat on a branch, stringing her bow with graceful hands, her eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger.
"Come on, Ray!" Alex's voice called out from the fire. "Time for your first lesson."
Ray hurried over to the group, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Alfred handed him a wooden practice sword, and Ray took it, feeling its unfamiliar weight in his hands.
"First rule," Alfred said, standing in front of him. "Strength doesn't come from power alone. It comes from knowing your limits, and then pushing past them."
Ray nodded, gripping the sword tighter.
"We're going to start with the basics," Alfred said. "Footwork, balance, and control."
For hours, Ray practiced under Alfred's watchful eye. He stumbled often, his muscles aching as he tried to keep up with the movements Alfred showed him. But he pushed through, determined not to give up.
Luisa joined in later, teaching Ray how to keep his distance from opponents and move swiftly. She showed him how to stay light on his feet, to dodge and weave, always ready for the next strike.
Jura taught him the art of defense—how to block and shield himself from attacks, though Ray found the weight of Jura's shield impossible to lift. Still, Jura encouraged him, reminding him that strength was built over time.
As the days passed, Rheana helped Ray with his recovery, using her healing magic to soothe his injuries. She also taught him meditation, helping him focus his mind and stay calm in the heat of battle.
Alex, though distant at first, eventually began teaching Ray basic strategies—how to outthink enemies when you lacked power. While Ray didn't possess magic, Alex emphasized the importance of intelligence and quick thinking.
Days turned into weeks, and slowly, Ray began to feel a change. His body grew stronger, his movements more fluid. He could lift the sword without struggling, and he could dodge Luisa's arrows with increasing speed. The weight of Jura's shield felt less crushing, and Alfred even complimented him on his improved stance.
But what mattered most was that Ray was no longer the powerless outsider. He had found a place among the heroes. He wasn't their equal—not yet—but he was learning. And with every lesson, every strike, and every challenge, Ray grew stronger.
One day, after a particularly grueling training session, Ray sat by the fire, exhausted but proud. Rheana handed him a cup of water, and he smiled at her gratefully.
"You're getting there, Ray," she said softly. "You've come a long way."
Ray looked around at his new friends—the heroes who had taken him in and given him a chance. And for the first time since arriving in this strange world, he didn't feel out of place.
"I still have a lot to learn," he said, his voice steady. "But I'm not afraid anymore. I'll keep pushing. I'll keep fighting."
Alfred, sitting across from him, nodded in approval. "Good. That's the spirit."
Ray gripped his sword tightly, staring into the flickering flames. He wasn't the chosen hero or the magical warrior. But he was no longer powerless. And with the heroes by his side, he knew that one day, he would be strong enough to stand among them as their equal.