"Look out, it's about to attack again!"
"Abort the mission, retreat!"
KA-BOOM!!
A tentacle that weighed a few tons crashed against the earth, sending a shockwave that tossed a couple of soldiers into the air. The ground split where it landed, a crater still smoking at the edges.
The soldiers who regained their balance rushed toward the behemoth, ejecting pieces of fabric lining that lifted them off the earth's surface. The thrusters screamed, propelling them in arcs meant to flank the creature's blind spots.
They flew with grace, however, another beast whipped them back down and crushed them with its fists. The force mangled their bodies beyond recognition, leaving only pieces of flesh behind, scattered across the churned mud like discarded rags.
At a distance, the commander of the troops stood, watching each of his soldiers get messily slaughtered, and he stood there, unable to do a damn thing. His hands curled into fists so tight his nails cut into his palms, but the higher-ups had clearly instructed him not to engage. He wasn't strong enough.
They didn't want him to die. Although he was weak, he was still a valuable asset to them as a war commander.
But he knew it was all a ruse. They had sent him and his battalion to their deaths, a delay tactic dressed up as a mission.
"Command!! We can't hold them!"
"We're sorry, Commander. We have done our best..."
Victor could clearly hear the agony imbued with fear in their voices, static crackling through every word like the line itself was dying with them. He raised the telecommunicator closer.
"I appreciate all your help. Now, let's try our best to hold on as long as possible. We might die today. But my mother always said dying for something is better than living for nothing. Let's make it count," he announced.
His voice still held the same authority as a commander because, deep down, he knew the enemy's strength was beyond what they were told and they were all going to die. No point letting the men hear that fear now.
"Now, show them the true power of the Knights Battalion!!!"
"Ahhh!!!"
He unsheathed his sword and jumped into battle, abandoning whether he lived or died.
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'Why is it so dark?...'
'The ringing from earlier is gone... that's good...'
'Some commander I am... can't even lead my battalion to victory. Now, with the warm embrace of death...'
'I... It's peaceful, like a long, warm bath. Finally, I can rest...'
Just as his consciousness slowly drifted away with the wind, a beaming bright white light suddenly drew his attention from a distance.
Apart from the light, darkness reigned supreme. The cold, uncomfortable feeling made him uneasy, pressing against him from every direction like it had weight.
As he tried reaching the light, the darkness pulled him with a magnetic force that didn't restrict him in any way, but he still felt the drag from the side, insistent, patient, like it had all the time in the world to wait him out.
Since the force wasn't a hindrance, he kept moving forward, waving his limbs to propel himself toward the light as much as possible.
It felt like he was submerged in the sea, flamboyant and almost weightless, yet a strange pressure rested on him, squeezing at his chest the closer he got.
After much struggling, he reached the light and was instantly blinded by its piercing rays.
Everything turned completely white for a certain amount of time, to the point that it seemed to last forever.
However, after a few moments, unclear images started to form all around his gaze.
He had to blink a couple of times, adjusting to the brightness that disrupted his fragile vision.
'Ugh!!... My hea..d.'
He ran his fingers across his throbbing head, which felt like multiple drums beating unsynchronized in an unpleasant rhythm.
But then, as his vision cleared, it clicked in his head.
'Oh no! The battle!'
He jolted up and quickly surveyed his surroundings.
But his racing heart subsided a bit when what he expected wasn't seen.
Instead, what came into view were trees, lots and lots of trees, close-packed and ancient-looking, the kind that had probably stood there longer than any war he'd fought in.
'Where the fuck am I?!'
He looked up at the canopies of trees that tried to steal the sunlight with their leaves but failed, as the rays managed to seep through the gaps, cutting the ground below into stripes of gold and shadow.
Dried leaves crumpled with every slight movement he made as he slowly supported himself with his hands to stand on his feet. His arms shook with the effort, weaker than he remembered them being.
The brown leaves covered the green grass, which felt like cotton between his toes.
'I seem to be in a forest,' Victor said to himself.
While taking in the greenery of his surroundings, his gaze fell onto a red-stained part of the grass.
The light crimson color had ingrained itself into the ground over time, once a liquid now dried into the earth.
He bent over to take a closer look, then filled his palm with the wet sand, fiddling with it and even taking sniffs from time to time.
'This smells like blood...' His eyes widened as he realized what had mixed with the earth.
Victor then looked at his body, his torn white shirt, probably slashed by blades, thick bloodstains crusted along the collar and sleeves.
"This is my blood!"
Not only that, but a weapon lay just a few centimeters away from him, its blade catching the striped light.
'What's going on?! Just a moment ago, I was on the battlefield with my battalion, ready to fight to our deaths. However, I was obliterated when I stood in the path of that powerful blast from that Drak.'
'It's obvious I have transmigrated into another person's body. Amazing...'
He had only heard about this in the fantasy novels he devoured as a kid. Never thought he'd end up living one.
Actually, the surprising part was that, although he possessed multiple deep cuts, they had somehow healed to the point of becoming shallow wounds — pink and tender, but sealed, like weeks of recovery had happened in the time it took him to open his eyes.
'The wounds don't seem to be infected. Either way, I need to find help. I need to find my battalion.'
He picked up the katana, which immediately dragged him down from its sheer weight.
'This is quite heavy...'
It was then that he noticed his body structure, he frowned. Thin wrists. Narrow shoulders. Not a soldier's body at all.
"The fuck?! Why do I look like a twig?!!"
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