"Is this how it ends?" Adrian thought bitterly, as he lay sprawled on the cold, blood-soaked ground, the sharp scent of blood and iron thick in the air.
His blood seeped from his wounds, pooling beneath him as the world around him blurred in chaos. Each breath sent sharp pain through his chest, and his legs felt as though they no longer existed. His fingers, covered in mud and blood, scratched weakly at the dirt, desperate to find something solid to hold onto. His eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, and the once-deafening sounds of the battlefield faded into a faint, distant hum.
Above him, the sky stretched vast and indifferent, its dull gray hues mirroring the battlefield below. The cries of dying men mixed with the growls of monstrous beasts, creating a horrifying noise of destruction. The ground shook under the heavy pounding of massive hooves, each tremor a reminder of the horde's unstoppable advance.
Ten years. It had been ten long years since he arrived in this world.
This world, much like medieval Europe, was both beautiful and brutal. Here, humans could achieve superhuman feats, and yet they lived under the constant threat of deviant beasts. Safety was nothing more than a fleeting illusion in this world.
Despite its harshness, he had adapted. What choice did he have? From the moment he woke in this unfamiliar body, he understood that survival depended on strength. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, it never seemed enough. But no matter how hard he tried, his efforts always felt insufficient.
"I tried... I really tried to become stronger. But with my talent, I barely even reached the level of a third-class knight apprentice." Adrian had trained relentlessly, pouring every ounce of his strength into his practice. While his peers rose to the rank of third-class apprentice with ease, Adrian remained stagnant, unable to advance.
Still, he persevered. For years, he pushed through sleepless nights of intense practice, enduring the scorn of his superiors and the pity of his peers. After a decade of relentless effort, he finally broke through to the third-class apprentice level. For a brief, fleeting moment, he allowed himself to hope that maybe—just maybe—he could catch up.
But then the beast horde arrived.
The memory stung like an open wound. The beast horde descended on the fortress like a tidal wave of destruction, their sheer numbers overwhelming every defense. Traps meant to halt their advance failed as the creatures threw themselves onto spikes and into pits, forming crude bridges with their dead bodies. Arrows that should have decreased their numbers barely slowed them. Wave after wave crashed against the defenses, breaking through with relentless force.
Third-class apprentices, the supposed vanguard of the fortress's defense, had been the first to fall. Adrian and the other apprentices were no more than fodder, thrown into the fray as expendable pawns. Their lives were sacrificed in a desperate bid to buy time for reinforcements from the capital.
When those reinforcements finally arrived, it was too late. The beasts had already breached the city walls, flooding the streets. The battlefield became a slaughterhouse, and now Adrian lay among the countless corpses, his broken body a testament to the futility of their struggle.
Around him, the cries of the dying faded into the distance. The last of the apprentices continued to fight desperately, their shouts growing weaker with each passing moment.
"Huff… Huff…" Adrian's breath rasped in his throat, each inhalation a struggle.
For the first few years after his arrival in this world, Adrian had clung to hope. Surely, he thought, there would be some miraculous power, some hidden talent that would reveal itself and allow him to rise above his circumstances. But as the years dragged on, that hope started to fade. No power came, no cheat abilities revealed themselves. All he had was this borrowed body and his dwindling will.
His thoughts drifted to Earth, to the family and friends he had left behind.
"Will anyone still remember me?"
A decade had passed. Perhaps his family had moved on, and his friends had long forgotten him. Even his own memories of them were beginning to blur, leaving behind only fragments—their faces, their voices—and a hollow ache in his chest.
"Huff... Huff..."
"Why did I come to this world?" The question burned in his chest, with a mix of anger and despair.
He stared up at the sky, its vast expanse mocking him with its indifference.
"Will anyone remember me here?"
Deep down, he already knew the answer: no. He was an orphan, just another nameless knight apprentice—one of many who would die forgotten on this cursed battlefield. Even with a second chance at life, it seemed his existence would amount to nothing.
As his breaths grew shallower, each one more labored than the last, the world around him began to blur. Memories flashed before his eyes—moments of laughter, pain, and fleeting happiness. They flickered like dying embers, remnants of two lives that had ultimately led to the same fate.
"Even after everything, my life is still worthless..."
His chest heaved once more, and then the world fell silent.
.....
"Huff… Huff…" Adrian jolted awake, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Disoriented, he sat up in bed, his eyes darting around the room.
"Where am I?!" he muttered to himself, confusion clouding his thoughts.
What's happening? he thought, struggling to recall the events. I was fighting the beast horde... and then...
Ah! I remember now. I died.
A sharp wave of realization hit him. But why am I still here? Why am I still alive?
He glanced around the room, the familiar apprentice quarters appearing exactly as they had when he first arrived in this world.
This place... it's my room, but everything seems just as it was before, as if no time had passed since then.
His eyes darted to the mirror hanging on the left wall. As he looked at his reflection, his heart skipped a beat. No way... His face was younger, smoother, untouched by the scars of battle.
Did I just regress? His breath hitched, and his heart raced, the weight of the realization slowly sinking in.
"I thought I came to this world with nothing... no powers, no advantages. But..." His hands clenched into fists. "I didn't come here empty-handed."
As the thought lingered, he tried to push himself off the bed, but a sharp pain shot through his body. He gasped, his muscles protesting with each movement. Every step was slow and labored, his limbs sore and stiff. The dull ache spread through his entire body, lingering with every effort to move.
I forgot... this time, I was still injured.
Wincing, he reached back for the bed and sat down, his mind racing. "I've returned to the moment when I transmigrated to this world."
As memories of his past life began to resurface, his mind flashed back to that nightmarish beast tide. A chill ran down his spine at the thought.
Think. Calm down. Focus.
There's still time. A decade before the beast horde arrives.
But can I survive this time?
In most regression stories, the protagonist uses their knowledge to change their fate and live a better life, but can I?
If I die again, I don't know if I'll get another chance. I can't afford to be careless.
Last time, I died in the beast tide. But this time, can I survive it? His mind flashed back to the chaos—the wolves overwhelming everything, the apprentices' desperate defense. Even the mighty knights couldn't hold back the horde.
Even if I become a second-class knight apprentice... I'm no match for them. The battle between the apprentices and the shadow Wolves is still burned into my memory. The wolves were relentless, and no one was safe.
The fear crept back in, tightening around his chest. He had been given a second chance, but would it be enough to change the inevitable?