Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Awakening in Lycanth
The chill of the night air was unfamiliar to Satoru, as were the coarse fabrics that graced his skin. He lay on a bed of leaves, the forest canopy barely visible through the gaps in the woven branches above. His head throbbed, a dull reminder of the chaos that had preceded his abrupt departure from the world he knew.
Satoru's last memory as a salaryman was the numbing glow of his computer screen, the endless columns of numbers, and the suffocating pressure of deadlines. Now, as he stirred from his slumber, he found himself in a realm where the concept of time seemed to hold no sway.
He tried to rise, but his limbs protested with a stiffness that spoke of a long journey. It was then that he noticed the ropes binding his wrists and ankles, the knots expertly tied to prevent escape. Panic fluttered in his chest, a stark contrast to the serene silence of the forest.
Voices broke the stillness, rough and guttural, speaking in a language that Satoru's mind should not have understood, yet somehow did. "The prince is awake," one voice grumbled. "Good. The boss wants to move out before dawn."
Prince? The word echoed in Satoru's mind, a title so far removed from his identity as a corporate drone. He squinted in the dim light, making out the figures of his captors—beasts of various shapes and sizes, their eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and malice.
"You're a long way from Lycanth, princeling," another voice sneered. "Thought you could sneak off to your little village without anyone noticing?"
Satoru's confusion deepened. Lycanth? Village lord? The terms swirled in his head, pieces of a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. He opened his mouth to speak, to demand answers, but the words that came out were not his own. "Release me," he growled, the authority in the tone surprising even himself.
The bandits laughed, a harsh sound that sent shivers down his spine. "Not a chance," the leader said, stepping into view. "You're our ticket to a hefty ransom, or maybe a nice chunk of land if the king is feeling generous."
As the reality of his situation settled in, Satoru realized that he was no longer in Tokyo. He was a prince, kidnapped and bound, on his way to a village called Ebonwood where he was to be its lord. But first, he had to survive the treachery of the bandits.
With the knowledge of his former life as a salaryman, Satoru began to assess his surroundings, searching for any advantage he could find. He may have been stripped of his suit and tie, but his mind was still sharp, honed by years of navigating the cutthroat corporate world.
And so, beneath the watchful eyes of his captors, Satoru plotted. He would not be a pawn in their game. He would be the master of his own fate, and the first step was to free himself from these bonds. The journey to Ebonwood would be fraught with danger, but Satoru was ready. After all, he had survived the black company; how much worse could a band of beastly kidnappers be?
As the first light of dawn filtered through the dense canopy, Satoru lay still, feigning sleep. The bandits were careless in their confidence, their snores echoing through the clearing. This was his chance. With careful, deliberate movements, Satoru worked the ropes against a sharp edge of rock hidden beneath him. The fibers frayed and finally gave way, freeing his hands.
He rose silently, a shadow among shadows, and crept towards the bandits' makeshift armory. There, he found a sword, its weight familiar and comforting in his grasp. He cut his remaining bonds and armed himself with a bow and quiver found alongside the blade.
Satoru's escape was silent as the mist that clung to the forest floor. He moved with a purpose, guided by an instinct he didn't know he possessed. The forest, once a looming threat, now offered its silent protection as he put distance between himself and his captors.
Hours passed, and the sun climbed higher, casting beams of light that danced through the leaves. It was then that Satoru heard the sound of hooves and the clink of armor. Knights, their coats emblazoned with the crest of Lycanth, patrolled the woods, their eyes sharp and searching.
"**Halt! Who goes there?**" the leader of the knights called out as Satoru stepped into a clearing.
"I am Prince Satoru of Lycanth," he declared, his voice steady. "I have escaped from bandits who seek to ransom me to my kingdom."
The knights lowered their weapons, one of them dismounting to bow before Satoru. "Your Highness, we have been searching for you since your disappearance. We are at your service."
With the knights' aid, Satoru devised a plan to capture the bandits. He knew their camp, their numbers, and their complacency. The knights, seasoned in combat, moved with precision, surrounding the bandits' camp.
The bandits, caught off guard and groggy from sleep, were no match for the knights' discipline. Satoru watched as the men who had sought to use him as a pawn were rounded up, their weapons confiscated, their futures uncertain.
"Take them to the dungeons of Lycanth," Satoru commanded. "Let it be known that those who threaten the royal bloodline will face justice."
As the bandits were led away, the knights turned to Satoru, their respect evident. "What are your orders, Your Highness?"
Satoru looked towards the horizon, where the village of Ebonwood awaited him. "We ride to Ebonwood," he said. "It is time I take my place as its lord and begin the work that destiny has laid out for me."
And so, with the knights at his back, Satoru set forth to the village that would one day become the heart of a mighty kingdom. The salaryman was no more; in his place stood a prince, a leader, a visionary ready to forge a new future.
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