The battle had ended, but its echoes still rang in Achem's ears. The bodies of the fallen beasts littered the ground, the stench of blood thick in the air. He wiped his sword clean on the torn cloak of a dead creature, his hands steady despite the exhaustion creeping into his muscles. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt a sense of belonging—however tenuous.
Garron approached, his broad frame casting a shadow over Achem. The grizzled warrior studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable, then clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"You fight well, outsider," Garron said, nodding. "Damn well. We would've lost half our men if not for your quick thinking."
Achem met his gaze, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. Earlier, Garron had been skeptical of him, treating him as little more than a burden. But now, there was something else—something closer to respect.
Lysara smirked from nearby. "Looks like you're finally one of us."
Achem arched an eyebrow. "What changed?"
Garron grunted, crossing his arms. "You stood your ground. You didn't run when things got tough. That counts for something."
Achem mulled over the words. In his past life, he had been the underdog, constantly overlooked in corporate politics, betrayed by those he trusted. But here, in this brutal world, merit mattered more than manipulation. He had proven himself not with words or alliances but with steel and strategy.
The other mercenaries exchanged nods as they passed, a silent acknowledgment of his worth. Where once they had eyed him with suspicion, now there was a quiet acceptance. He was no longer an outsider watching from the fringes—he was part of the group now.
Still, Achem knew that trust in this world was a fragile thing. He would have to continue proving himself, again and again. But for now, he allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction.
Garron jerked his head toward the woods. "We need to find that summoner before they regroup. Are you with us?"
Achem sheathed his sword, his lips curling into a grim smile. "Lead the way."
As they moved forward, the weight of leadership settled onto his shoulders. He wasn't just surviving anymore—he was shaping his own fate in this world.
The forest grew darker as they pushed forward. The thick canopy above blocked what little moonlight there was, and the damp air carried the scent of wet earth and decay. The unnatural silence was unnerving—no chirping insects, no rustling leaves. Only the heavy breathing of men marching into the unknown.
Lysara stopped suddenly, holding up a hand. "Something's not right."
Achem tightened his grip on his sword. "You feel it too?"
Garron sniffed the air, his hand resting on the handle of his axe. "The summoner hasn't gone far. They wouldn't abandon their beasts so easily."
A rustle in the underbrush made the group tense. Achem's heartbeat quickened. He scanned the shadows, every nerve on edge. And then, a pair of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness—then another, and another.
The summoned beasts had not been fully vanquished. More of them lurked in the forest, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Achem barely had time to react before the first beast lunged. He twisted out of the way, bringing his sword up in a defensive arc. The blade bit into thick hide, but the creature barely staggered. More of them emerged from the darkness, their snarling forms encircling the group.
The mercenaries braced themselves. Garron roared and swung his axe, cleaving into the nearest beast. Blood sprayed, but the creatures did not hesitate. They surged forward, unrelenting.
Achem's mind raced. Rogar's instincts screamed at him, telling him where to move, when to strike. It was an eerie contrast to the office worker instincts he once had—this was pure survival, honed through battle. He ducked under a swipe, slashed at another beast's legs, then turned just in time to parry a claw aimed for his throat.
Then, above the chaos, a whisper carried through the air. A chilling, inhuman chant.
Lysara cursed. "The summoner is still here! They're controlling the beasts!"
Achem's eyes darted around. The summoner had to be close, hidden somewhere in the foliage. If they didn't stop them soon, the beasts would keep coming. He made a split-second decision.
"Hold them off!" he shouted to Garron and the others. "I'll find the summoner!"
Garron gritted his teeth but nodded. "Go! We'll keep these bastards busy!"
Achem turned and sprinted into the trees, his pulse hammering. The chanting grew louder, a sinister melody that sent chills down his spine. He pushed forward, dodging low branches and leaping over exposed roots. His breath was ragged, but he didn't stop.
Then, he saw them.
A hooded figure stood in a clearing, their hands raised, eyes glowing with an eerie blue light. The summoner. They barely noticed Achem's approach, too focused on their spell. Shadows coiled around them, forming ethereal tendrils that stretched toward the beasts.
Achem didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, swinging his sword in a deadly arc.
The summoner's eyes snapped toward him, their lips curling into a smirk. At the last second, they raised a hand, and a barrier of dark energy erupted between them. Achem's blade struck the barrier, sending a shockwave through his arms.
"You're persistent," the summoner murmured, their voice like silk. "But you are nothing without Rogar's strength."
Achem's eyes narrowed. How did they know? He had not spoken a word about his displacement—his very existence in this world should have been a mystery. And yet, this summoner knew he wasn't Rogar.
The revelation made him hesitate for a fraction of a second, doubt creeping into his mind. Was his presence here already known by others? Were there more forces at play beyond his understanding?
Achem growled, shaking off the uncertainty. He didn't know how much this summoner knew about him, but he wasn't about to let them win. He gritted his teeth and pressed forward, determination blazing in his eyes.
The summoner tried to step back, but Achem was relentless. He slashed again, this time forcing the summoner to dodge rather than block. Their smirk wavered, surprise flickering in their gaze.
"You're stronger than I expected," they admitted. "But strength alone won't save you."
Achem clenched his jaw. "I don't need saving. I need answers."
The summoner chuckled darkly. "Then come and take them."
With a flick of their wrist, shadows erupted from the ground, forming jagged spikes aimed straight at Achem's chest.
He barely had time to react.
The battle was far from over.