Ryo blinked, still struggling to believe what he was seeing. The village of Fennwood lay before him, exactly as he'd designed it. A quiet, unassuming settlement of thatched-roof cottages, simple shops, and dirt paths. Villagers bustled about, carrying bundles of firewood, chatting by the well, and hauling baskets of produce. The whole place had an air of tranquil simplicity, a starting point for adventurers who would soon outgrow its boundaries.
But he wasn't an adventurer here. He was one of them—a mere villager.
"Are you feeling all right?" The young woman beside him asked with a warm smile, her voice filled with concern. She had introduced herself as Lena, the village healer. She wore a simple linen dress, her hair tied back in a loose braid.
"Yeah, I'm… I'm fine," Ryo replied, though his voice was shaky. The truth was, he didn't know how to feel. The last thing he remembered was sitting at his desk, staring at lines of code. And now, here he was, in the middle of Fennwood. Somehow, he'd gone from creator to participant, thrust into the very game world he had helped build.
The irony wasn't lost on him. He had spent years constructing every pixel, every detail, but he'd never expected to wake up inside it.
"Good," Lena said, breaking into his thoughts. "Well, if you need any more help, you know where to find me. Fennwood takes care of its own."
He nodded, still dazed. "Thanks, Lena. I appreciate it."
She smiled, giving him a quick nod before heading back to her duties, leaving Ryo alone to gather his thoughts. His mind raced as he tried to process the reality of his situation. Somehow, he was no longer a developer sitting safely in front of a computer screen. Now he was part of this world, bound by its rules.
Taking a deep breath, he looked down at himself. He wore simple clothing—a coarse, brown tunic, a rope belt, and scuffed leather boots. In his hand was a worn wooden staff, the kind he'd given to basic NPC villagers as a placeholder weapon. No armor, no inventory filled with potions and magical items. Just a stick, a tattered tunic, and a newfound vulnerability.
This wasn't a dream. The faint ache in his muscles, the rough fabric on his skin, the sounds of villagers talking and laughing around him—it all felt too real to be anything but reality.
"All right, Ryo," he muttered to himself, "think. If this is real, then what's the first step?"
He knew that in Chronicles of Eryndor, Fennwood was a relatively peaceful area. But he also knew that the Crescent Blades—a ruthless band of mercenaries—were patrolling the surrounding forests, harassing villages and waiting to ambush unwary travelers. As far as he'd designed it, Fennwood was safe… for now. But with little defenses and only a handful of able-bodied villagers, that safety was fragile.
If the Crescent Blades attacked, he'd be as vulnerable as anyone else.
Suddenly, the weight of his situation hit him with full force. He couldn't rely on his developer's omniscience here. He was part of the world, bound by the same physical and magical limitations as any other villager.
But he did have one advantage: his knowledge.
He knew where to find the game's hidden quests, obscure relics, and backstory secrets. He knew the paths players took to rise to power, the shortcuts that could shave hours off a journey, the places that held rare items. And that knowledge, he realized, could be his way forward.
But how?
His thoughts were interrupted by a commotion near the village square. A small crowd had gathered, and curious, Ryo made his way over. In the center of the square stood Old Marla, the village elder, her voice carrying over the crowd.
"We've had sightings of bandits in the western woods," she said, her voice a mix of authority and worry. "They've been harassing travelers, and I fear it's only a matter of time before they come for us."
A murmur ran through the crowd, fear flickering in their eyes. Ryo recognized this as part of a quest chain—an introductory series of tasks meant to ease players into combat. It was supposed to be a simple series of missions to establish rapport with the villagers, to give players their first taste of battle. But now, it was real.
He took a deep breath, feeling a spark of determination. Maybe this is my chance.
"Excuse me, Marla," Ryo called, stepping forward. The villagers turned to him, their expressions curious.
"Yes, Ryo?" Marla asked, giving him a nod. "You have something to say?"
"I think we should prepare for an attack," he said, his voice steady. "The bandits in the western woods—if they've been spotted nearby, it means they're planning something. We need to strengthen our defenses, just in case."
Marla's eyebrows rose, surprised by his suggestion. "You speak with confidence, Ryo. Do you have experience with this sort of thing?"
Ryo hesitated but then nodded. "I've… seen what they're capable of," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I know it's best not to wait for trouble to find us. If we act now, we might be able to avoid a disaster."
Marla considered his words, then looked to the villagers around her. "He may be right. It's been many years since we faced a threat, but we shouldn't grow complacent. Who will help Ryo?"
There was a pause, but then Gretta, a tall woman with a warrior's build and piercing gaze, stepped forward. "I'll help him," she said, crossing her arms. "We can't afford to be caught off guard."
A murmur of agreement ran through the crowd, and soon a handful of villagers stepped forward, nodding in agreement. Jarek, the blacksmith, offered his skills in crafting weapons. Elara, a keen-eyed watchwoman, volunteered to keep an eye on the forest's edge.
Ryo felt a surge of relief. It was a start.
"We'll need traps along the western path," Ryo began, slipping into a leader's role with surprising ease. "Basic defenses—pits, tripwires. Jarek, if you can forge some extra weapons, even simple ones, it will help. And Elara, any warning you can give us could make all the difference."
The villagers nodded, murmuring their understanding. As they dispersed to begin their tasks, Marla gave him an approving smile. "You've shown initiative today, Ryo. Fennwood could use someone with your sense of caution."
Ryo returned the smile, but inside he was still grappling with the enormity of his situation. He might have a basic plan now, but he was far from prepared for the real dangers that lay ahead.
As he walked away, Gretta caught up with him, her expression serious. "You're not from around here, are you?" she asked, eyeing him closely.
Ryo hesitated but then shrugged. "I guess you could say that. But I know enough to see what's coming."
Gretta gave him a long, assessing look, then nodded. "Good. Fennwood's quiet, but we're not naïve. I just hope you're ready for what you're starting."
He looked down at the wooden staff in his hand, feeling its weight. He wasn't ready, not yet. But he knew one thing: he couldn't back down now. If he wanted to survive in this world, if he wanted to rise above his limitations as an NPC, he'd have to adapt fast.
Ryo glanced at the villagers working around him, setting up traps and reinforcing their homes. This wasn't just a game to him anymore. These were real people, with real lives at stake. He had to protect them.
And maybe, just maybe, he could change his own fate in the process.