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40% Survivor: Rise of the Almighty / Chapter 12: 12. Back on Earth! Or not...

Chapter 12: 12. Back on Earth! Or not...

Chapter 12: Back on Earth! Or not…

The sounds of steel and death finally fell silent. The assassins were dead, their bodies scattered across the forest floor like broken dolls. The air was still heavy with blood, the scent of death soaking into the trees. My body felt broken, sore, and drenched in gore, but I was alive—barely.

Captain Alaric stood a few feet from me, his sword glowing faintly as he looked at the field of fallen assassins. His golden aura shimmered in the sunlight, and his expression was unreadable. He turned to me, his gaze steady, and his voice cut through the stillness.

"Well... you're a good fighter," he said, his tone measured but genuine. "A strong one, at that."

I groaned, resting my hands on my knees as I tried to steady my breathing. My body felt like it belonged to someone else, and my legs were shaking under the strain. I looked at him, a weak grin tugging at the corner of my lips.

"All I needed was the motivation," I managed to croak, leaning my head slightly in Freya's direction.

She stood not far from me, her sharp gaze steady as ever, her plate armor glinting under the sunlight. My words must have hit their mark because Alaric laughed—a genuine, hearty chuckle that carried over the stillness.

"Indeed," he agreed, shaking his head as he looked at her.

I could feel my body threatening to give out again, but I stayed upright as Alaric turned his attention to the other soldiers. He went to check on the remaining four—wounded but alive, their breaths ragged and their eyes wide.

I watched him for a moment, then felt my legs finally surrender. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the ground beside the overturned carriage.

I didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. My body felt like a sack of broken bones and pain as I let myself fall, unable to stand.

I let my head rest against the side of the carriage, staring up at the sky. The clouds drifted lazily overhead, and for a few seconds, I allowed myself to relax.

I still had some strength left. I forced the words out, my voice weak but steady enough.

"I held up my side of the deal," I managed, my voice cracking.

Freya's gaze flickered toward me, and she stood there for a moment, silent. Finally, her voice came, low and calm.

"I know," she said simply. "And I will do my part in Torak."

I let out a slow breath, trying to gather my thoughts as her words washed over me. I stared at her for a moment, at her calm demeanor and her stoic face.

The system ain't half bad, I thought to myself with a weak grin. Getting a reward and a pretty strong ally? I can work with this.

I let my head rest deeper against the carriage, the pain in my body roaring again, but I ignored it. My eyes were heavy. I could feel my body slipping, the exhaustion coming back to claim me.

I fought it for as long as I could, but it was no use. My vision grew hazy, the sounds of the aftermath fading into the background.

I smiled faintly as I felt consciousness slipping.

"See you in Torak," I muttered under my breath.

And then everything went black.

***

I bolted upright in bed, my breath coming in sharp, rapid gasps as I flailed and sat up with a jolt. My body froze, every muscle tensed as I scanned the room around me.

This wasn't the forest. This wasn't a battlefield.

This was *my room.* My *real* room. My bed. My comforter. The faint sound of the morning breeze through the window.

"Wait… what the hell?" I whispered, my voice shaking as I looked around. I ran my hand over my face, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. This was *Earth.* My room back home.

I could feel the absence of pain—my body felt… fine. Like I was *completely* fine. My heart pounded with a rush of adrenaline.

"Oh my God. I'm back," I whispered to myself. My voice cracked.

I threw the blanket off and jumped off the bed, adrenaline coursing through me as I stood up. My legs felt strong, my body light. I didn't ache. I wasn't broken.

I looked at the bed stand next to me, and my hand instinctively reached for it.

And there it was. My phone.

I grabbed it without hesitation, my hands trembling. The familiar cold plastic felt real in my hand. I flipped it open, and there it was: my wallpaper. *Goku, as a kid, standing by the water.*

I froze. A single tear spilled down my cheek.

"Holy shit," I whispered. "Holy fucking shit."

I unlocked the phone with trembling fingers, tears blurring my vision. My thumb hovered over my dialer.

My mother. I could call her.

Before I could hesitate, I dialed her number, my heart in my throat. The ringtone started, the familiar tone of her number sounding louder in my head.

But then…

A wave of dizziness hit me like a freight train.

"Whoa—what the hell?" I muttered, trying to steady myself. My vision swam. The phone felt heavier in my hand.

My knees buckled. The room spun. My body felt like it was going to collapse.

"Fuck, no—"

I hit the floor. My consciousness fell into blackness, and everything faded.

***

I woke up again, this time screaming. My body was drenched in sweat, every nerve ending alive with pain. I was back in the forest, my body broken, aching, and every nerve firing with sharp agony.

"Fuck… damn it!" I shouted, my voice hoarse.

I screamed into the air, my throat raw as I tried to process everything. The pain was back, tenfold. My body felt like it had been ripped apart, and every inch of me was a cruel reminder of the system's sadistic games.

"*You bastard,*" I screamed, my voice breaking. Tears rolled down my face. My hands clenched into fists.

"This is so goddamn cruel. You can't just yank someone out of relief, back to pain like this!"

I looked toward Freya, her head bowed as she cared for the unconscious noble girl by the carriage. She hadn't noticed me yet, and I glared at her for a moment.

"Fuck this shit," I whispered under my breath. My body was still in agony, but somehow, it had lessened enough that I could move my hands.

I fumbled, reaching into my shirt pouch, fingers digging into the familiar worn leather.

"Please, please let this work," I thought, pulling out a pair of small glass bottles—no larger than my pinky fingers.

I opened them with trembling hands. The liquid shimmered inside, a glowing, faint green.

*Here goes nothing.*

I tilted the bottles to my lips, the liquid burning as it slid down my throat.

The moment it touched my system, everything went to hell.

I howled as pain lanced through my body like liquid fire. My entire body twisted, my bones shifting, snapping, and reforming as the green glow spread across me like wildfire.

My muscles convulsed, my back arched, and I screamed harder as the pain reached every nerve. I could feel every single molecule in my body breaking and rebuilding itself.

Shapes formed in the glow—unnatural, almost alien patterns of pain and magic, like my very essence was being reshaped by an otherworldly force. My body contorted under the strain, and I couldn't stop the cries.

"*AGGGHHHHH!*" I screamed, the agony raw, bone-deep, and unrelenting.

I felt it tear through me, reshaping me, reforming me. The pain felt infinite, like being reborn by fire, but just as suddenly as it came, the green glow began to fade.

When the glow vanished, I let out a weak, shaky breath, my body now perfectly restored. I could feel every bone, every muscle, every tendon in perfect condition. The pain was gone.

"*Thank God I didn't use these after the Goblin Chief fight,*" I muttered, wiping tears from my face as I sat there, breathing heavily.

I stood up off the ground, my legs feeling steady once again. My body was back to peak form, strong, alive, and untouched by the brutal fight. I looked down at myself, covered in gore, but not broken anymore.

I looked at Freya again and managed a weak smile.

"What happened to the unconscious girl?" I asked, still recovering.

Freya turned toward me, her voice sharp.

"The black lion from before attacked the carriage out of nowhere," she said, her voice steady. "It crushed everything with her inside."

I frowned, grimacing as I processed her words.

"What's the plan? Call for backup? Do we move? There's a chance the people behind those assassins are still watching."

Before Freya could respond, Alaric joined us, his presence commanding.

"We need to move," he said, his voice calm but firm. "They'll likely come again if we linger here."

He turned toward me and looked me in the eye.

"Kaizen, can you help lift the carriage so the horses can start pulling it?"

I stared at him, surprised, and let out a laugh that turned sarcastic.

"Wait, *me?* You've got to be kidding me."

But then it hit me. I could move a boulder the size of a house now.

"Oh… shit. Okay," I said, shaking my head.

Freya and Alaric began digging under the carriage with me, the ground groaning as we pushed and pulled. We grunted as we heaved, and the entire thing trembled, shaking the earth beneath us.

"Goddamn captain, *why are you always holding back?*" I muttered to myself, cursing under my breath as I watched Alaric's mana glow brighter with every ounce of effort.

Finally, we managed to lift the carriage up, and the earth trembled beneath us. It groaned as we carried it, the unconscious noble, the soldiers, and all our hopes riding on this journey forward.

Freya joined us on the inside beside the noble. Alaric and I climbed to the front, manning the reins, pulling the horses toward the road.

We began the journey toward Torak, a grim, uncertain hope guiding us.


Chapter 13: 13. Road to Torak

Chapter 13: The Road to Torak

The steady creak of wooden wheels filled the silence as the carriage rocked forward. I sat on the worn bench next to Alaric, who held the reins with the kind of casual expertise only a soldier could muster. The horses snorted, their hooves a rhythmic clip-clop against the dirt path. It would've been peaceful if not for the faint groan of my still-healing body and the lingering weight in my chest.

Alaric glanced at me, breaking the silence. "You're quiet. Considering how you fight, I figured you'd be less reserved."

I let out a dry laugh. "Guess I'm full of surprises."

He grunted, smirking. "You're not wrong." His eyes lingered on me a second longer before he added, "Where did you learn to fight like that? You're not military."

"No," I replied quickly, shaking my head. "Definitely not military. I… trained on my own. Grew up in a place where strength matters." I wasn't about to explain Earth to him—or my previous life. "It's… far from here. Very far."

"Different, I take it?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

"Try me," Alaric said with a curious grin.

But I didn't bite. "It's just different. Let's leave it at that." I looked ahead at the road, hoping he'd drop it.

Alaric hummed as if weighing whether to push for more, but then he seemed to let it go. "Fair enough. You're a strange one, though. A mercenary?"

"I guess you could call me that but Adventurer is the preferred term," I said. It was easier than explaining the system or the fact that my life had turned into some sick survival game. "And you? You seem like more than a 'captain.' What's your story?"

Alaric gave a half-shrug, eyes on the path. "Not much of one. Born into a family of soldiers, raised to serve Torak. My father was a great commander, my mother a fierce warrior. I've been fighting for as long as I can remember."

"So you're loyal to Torak?" I asked.

"To its people," he corrected, his voice steady. "Leaders rise and fall, but the people remain. They're worth protecting."

I nodded. His words were simple, but they carried weight. The kind of weight you only get after years of war and loss.

After that, the conversation died. We sat in silence, save for the occasional groan of the carriage and the rhythmic beat of the horses pulling us deeper into the forest. I stared ahead, watching the enormous trees swallow the path, their twisted trunks arching high above us, like giant sentinels guarding a road that stretched on forever.

I barely noticed my own breathing slowing. My gaze was fixed on the endless stretch of shadow and green, and before I knew it, my thoughts turned dark.

The fight.

The assassins.

The blood.

I'd killed people today. Not goblins. Not mindless monsters. People.

The memory flashed in my mind—my blade cutting through flesh, the hollow thud of bodies hitting the dirt. It wasn't the gore that stuck with me, though that had been bad enough. It was what I didn't feel.

No guilt. No horror. No regret.

Nothing.

The silence around me became suffocating. I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into fists as my thoughts spiraled. I'd killed human beings—people with lives, families, dreams—and all I felt was… numb. Like it didn't matter.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" I muttered under my breath.

I wasn't a killer back on Earth. Sure, I'd fought when I had to—bullies, punks who pushed too far—but killing? That was never on the table. Now, it felt like second nature. Swing, cut, end them. No hesitation. No feeling.

I stared at my hands. They looked normal. No blood. No mark of what I'd done. But I knew what they were capable of now.

Had I always been like this?

Or had I changed—been changed—by whoever brought me here?

"Kaizen?"

Alaric's voice jolted me back. I blinked, realizing I'd been gripping the edge of the bench hard enough to splinter the wood.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," I said too quickly. "Just… tired."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. Instead, he turned his attention back to the horses, muttering something under his breath about stubborn mercenaries.

I exhaled sharply, forcing my muscles to relax. The numbness was still there, clawing at the edges of my mind. It scared the hell out of me. I'd taken lives today, and I felt nothing. Not sorrow. Not satisfaction. Just… emptiness.

I stared back at the endless forest ahead, its towering trees stretching on into forever. A path with no end in sight.

I leaned back against the seat, letting my head rest against the carriage wall.

"Whoever brought me here… whatever you did to me," I whispered, my voice barely audible, "fuck you. Fuck you for turning me into this."

But the forest didn't answer.

It never did.

Alaric's voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time. "Something is wrong."

I looked at him, trying to play dumb. "What?"

"You. I've seen that look before," Alaric said, his tone firm but not unkind. His gaze stayed on me, steady and unrelenting. "Soldiers, mercenaries, even kids too young to hold a sword—they all wear it after their first kill."

I stiffened, my jaw clenching. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit." Alaric flicked the reins to keep the horses moving, his eyes still on me. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but I'm not blind. Whatever's going on in that head of yours, you better say it now. Silence will eat you alive."

For a second, I thought about telling him to back off. To mind his own damn business. But the truth was… he was right.

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers rubbing the back of my neck. "Fine." I stared ahead at the endless path, avoiding his gaze. "It's just…" I hesitated, the words bitter in my mouth. "I didn't feel anything."

Alaric didn't respond right away, so I kept talking, the words spilling out like I'd been holding them back for hours. "Today was the first time I've ever killed a person. Hell, I've only been in this adventurer thing for about a month. Before today, the only things I fought were goblins, and even then, I couldn't bring myself to finish the job most of the time."

I swallowed hard, staring down at my hands. "But when those assassins came at me, I didn't even hesitate. I just… did it. I killed them, and I didn't feel a goddamn thing. No guilt. No regret. Nothing. It's like—" I stopped myself, my throat tightening. "It's like I didn't care at all."

Alaric was quiet for a moment, the horses' hooves the only sound between us. I forced myself to keep going. "Shouldn't I be feeling something? Anything? What does that say about me?" My voice dropped to a whisper. "What if there's something wrong with me?"

I risked a glance at Alaric. His face was unreadable, but his hands gripped the reins a little tighter. "It's not uncommon," he said finally. "Especially for someone like you."

"Someone like me?" I asked, frowning.

"You're still figuring out who you are," Alaric replied. "You think you should feel guilty because you think that's what makes you human. That hesitation? That doubt? It's what separates a butcher from a man who fights to survive."

I shook my head. "But I didn't hesitate. That's the problem."

Alaric sighed, his shoulders rising and falling as he thought. "Maybe not this time. You were in a fight for your life, Kaizen. That does something to people. You'd be surprised how quickly your instincts take over when death stares you in the face."

I didn't answer. My eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, where the shadows stretched longer and deeper the farther we went.

"It's the quiet afterward that gets you," Alaric continued, his voice low. "When you have time to think. To wonder if you should've done things differently. That's when the weight of it comes down on you."

His words hung In the air, settling heavy on my chest.

"What if it doesn't?" I muttered. "What if I never feel anything?"

Alaric looked at me then, really looked at me. "Then you'll have your answer."

I frowned. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you'll know who you are. And once you know, you get to choose what to do about it." Alaric turned back to the road. "Don't confuse numbness for strength. You're not dead inside, Kaizen. If you were, you wouldn't be asking these questions."

His words stung, but they also hit something deep, something I didn't want to admit.

I let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the seat again. "I'm just… tired of feeling like I don't know what the hell is happening to me."

"You're not alone in that," Alaric said simply.

We fell back into silence. The forest stretched on endlessly, the towering trees watching us like silent judges. Alaric's words lingered in my mind, but they didn't give me peace. If anything, they left me with even more questions.

I stared at the path ahead, my thoughts dark and tangled.

I didn't know if I was changing, or if this was who I'd always been. Either way, it scared the hell out of me.


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