Cherreads

forging my honor and truth (danmachi)

feonix_55
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Synopsis
The protagonist, a 22-year-old university student trying to find meaning in his life, which is constantly occupied by others, finds himself trapped in the world of "Is it so wrong to conquer girls in a dungeon?" trying to find "his own truth," he encounters paths and uncertainties he never thought he'd dare to attempt. What circumstances will the protagonist have to face in this unexplored "new world"?
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Chapter 1 - [charter 1]: a trips "part I"

autor notes°1: hi guys, How are you all doing? I hope you like the chapter.

If you notice any spelling mistakes or similar errors, please let me know. English isn't my native language, so please excuse me for that. I'll try to be consistent with uploading chapters of this story and more. Without further ado, go read the chapter. 

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pov protagonist: 

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a storm of emotions

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the blood that was showing on my hands

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my own blood and the overwhelming pain

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And after all that, I felt a pleasant calm.

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[Fulfill your purpose]...Arthur

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 //=//=//=//=//=//=//=//=//=//

 — Year: Unknown —

 — word: Unknown —

 — location: Unknown — 

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"—A pleasant dream, one I hadn't had in a long time. The feeling of being free, at least for one night, from the unbearable weight of responsibility and expectations that floods your entire being... it was nice, liberating even, in a way that felt comforting to the soul."

"—After the unbearable loneliness that eats away at everyone who carries a burden like this, a comforting night is exactly what we need. What I wanted—a much-needed break."

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"But I had to get up... again."

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— A prickling, numb sensation crawling up my back was the first thing I felt as I opened my eyes. That, and the sun hitting me right in my damn face. I stared up at the sky, squinting as my eyes struggled to adjust to the blinding light and the chaos around me. —

— My arms felt heavy, like they'd fallen asleep, but they were still functional enough. I pushed myself up, propping up my torso to scan the area. A weird feeling—a sudden, intrusive thought—hit me just before the reality of the situation actually sank in. —

— Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. I felt smaller than I should be, which made zero sense, and I didn't recognize a single thing around me. —

— (Wait... what the hell? Why do my arms and legs feel... shorter? And why am I in an alleyway? I was... I was headed back to my apartment after uni, right? Right after finishing my internship hours at UPM...) — 

— I finally took in my surroundings, something I hadn't been able to do through the initial brain fog. I saw a maze of winding alleys and the strangest architecture I'd ever seen. I dragged myself over to a wall made of stone and timber, leaning against it as I sat there, completely floored by the sheer absurdity of it all. —

— It looked like it was midday. I could hear the distant commotion echoing from the surrounding streets; I couldn't quite make out what anyone was saying—they were too far off for that —

—but just knowing there were people nearby was more of a relief than I'd like to admit. —

— I had zero memory of how I'd ended up here, and even less of a clue why. In moments like this, I knew I had to keep it together. Confusion was a luxury I couldn't afford; now wasn't the time to freak out or let my emotions spiral out of control. —

— Be smart. That's what I kept telling myself before trying to map out a solid plan to stay alive — and hopefully sane enough to figure out what the hell was going on. —

— First things first. In a situation like this, logic dictates that you take a breath and check your body for injuries or any red flags. And, of course, see if you've got any useful gear on you. —

— Stay smart. That was the mantra I repeated before trying to map out a solid plan to stay aliveand hopefully sane and calm enough to figure out what the hell was going on. I rubbed my hands over my face, hoping the gesture might somehow make the situation feel a little more real, or at least a little less insane. —

— First things first. In a situation like this, logic dictates that you take a breath and check your body for injuries or red flags. And, of course, you look for any useful resources. Like a phone. —

— That's what I told myself, taking deep enough breaths to still the slight tremors in my hands and swallowing the lump of anxiety rising in my throat. —

— (First priority: find something useful. Maybe I still have my phone, or some ID? I should also check if I'm missing a kidney or something. Please, God, let me be whole. Maybe this is just a legendary hangover after a night out with my uni friends... although that would be weird, since I'm not even a drinker...) —

— I stood up for a second, the realization hitting me that I might actually have my belongings on me. With any luck, I could call someone or get a hold of the police. —

— I started checking my body, patting myself down for anything useful or any clue that could clear up this bizarre mess. I felt around the pockets of the clothes I was wearing: a plain dark blue shirt under a blackish vest, paired with black jeans and leather boots. It was an outfit that, honestly, looked pretty damn good on me— but I had never seen it before in my life.—

— (I don't remember putting these clothes on... This is so weird. Whose are they? Whatever, I can't focus on that right now. I need to find my phone.) —

— That was my first thought before I stumbled upon a few coins that looked like solid gold. They felt strange in my hand. I examined them for a few seconds before digging deeper into my pockets, finding more of them along with several scraps of paper covered in bizarre scribbles. I didn't stop to read them—I just shoved them all into one pocket to deal with later. Then, my hand brushed against something cold: a combat knife strapped to my belt. It looked high-end—the metal was polished to a shine and the edge looked lethal. I slid it back into its sheath immediately. I had no idea why I had it, but I knew I had to be careful. That was the only thing on my mind as I felt the weight of the weapon. —

— (Where the hell is my phone? Dammit, I can't find it anywhere. Where the fuck am I? Was I kidnapped? Am I in some other European country? What happened to me? I have to watch my step... one wrong move right now could be "game over." I can't let my guard down. Maybe it's not that deep, but I better keep a cool head and prep for the worst.) —

— A million scenarios flashed through my mind, but a second later, I had to shove them aside. I needed to focus on the essentials: first, how I got here; everything else could wait. One step at a time, I told myself. — 

— (But first, let's process these memories. Okay... I'm Arthur Benjamin Louken's. "Loken" to my friends, or "Arturito" to my real ones. From what I remember, I was heading back to my place from the University of Madrid after finishing my internship, and... after that... uh... dammit... I've got nothing. I'll deal with that later. First things first: figure out where the hell I am, come up with an actual plan, and find a way home. Maybe if I can find a government building or a town hall, they can help repatriate me back to Spain—assuming I'm even in another country.) —

— (The way I see it—and from what I can tell right now—I'm undocumented. Maybe I can spin a story that's believable enough to let me contact the guys or my family. But for now, I need to gather info, be cautious, and flip the switch to survivor mode, or I won't last two hours here. I just hope I'm not in some dangerous country. Hopefully, I can find a town hall with people who are actually helpful.) —

— The first thing I did was fix my clothes and stretch, checking for any aches or discomfort. Other than feeling... lighter? And... shorter? I seemed to be in pretty good shape. That was a crucial bit of info to keep in mind. The next step was to analyze my surroundings. —

— From what I could see of this alley—about five meters wide and seemingly a shortcut between two separate streets—the ground was made of perfectly cut and fitted stone. The architecture surrounding me looked a lot like structures from medieval Europe. Probably a 15th or 16th-century style, though I couldn't say for sure. —

— Maybe it's Renaissance style? But why here? That was the question looping in my mind as I started walking toward the end of the alley. When I finally reached the opening and saw the full picture, I was... honestly, I was floored. My brain just couldn't process what I was looking at. —

— I glanced from side to side, a mix of pure confusion and burning curiosity. Houses and stalls lined the street, filled with people so... vibrant and bizarre that my brain short-circuited for a few seconds. I had to force myself to do something halfway coherent so I wouldn't just stand there like a total moron with my mouth hanging open. —

— I mean... what the hell? Why were people dressed like they were at a medieval fair? It took me a moment to recognize—or at least, I thought I recognized—these clothing styles from a bygone era. —

— For a split second, I thought they were all just cosplaying. Then I noticed that many of them were carrying actual weapons: bows, spears, swords of every shape and size. It was like being dropped right into the middle of the freaking Lord of the Rings, but without the TV screen in the way. —

It was unbelievable. Maybe my kidnappers, or whoever brought me here, had taken me to Disneyland as some kind of weird perk. I let out a small smirk at the thought. I really hoped that was it—I wanted to believe this was all just some elaborate set, like I was wandering through a tourist trap I'd never heard of. My mind was racing, so I did the only thing I could: I tried to stay as chill as possible and keep a positive vibe. — 

— Watching the market stalls up close and seeing people strolling around, shopping, and chatting happily with their friends... it all felt so ordinary, yet so completely new. It was as if I were seeing the world for the very first time. —

— I just dismissed the outfits as "cosplay." Seeing people in full costume in public wasn't exactly my everyday experience, but it wasn't the weirdest thing in the world either. I decided to act like a tourist in an unfamiliar city. Sure, I felt totally lost, overwhelmed, and incredibly nervous, wondering if the guys who brought me here or whoever was behind this were lurking nearby. —

— Still, seeing the costumes gave me a weird sense of relief. I mean, I consider myself a "man of culture"; I've read my fair share of fantasy novels and I'm pretty deep into otaku culture. Seeing people openly sharing those kinds of interests made me a little happy. But I had to push that aside and focus on what actually mattered. —

— I dropped my shoulders, trying to find that "chill" I always try to carry with me. I'm no stranger to traveling abroad—I've spent a good amount of time in Mexico, Colombia, and Argentina—so I had a solid theory on what to do when you're lost or stuck in a situation like this. —

— Step one: don't leave the immediate area. Wander around a bit, gather info, and look for help, but never stray too far from "Point Zero." It helps you stay oriented and gives you a better view of the big picture without exposing yourself to unnecessary danger. — 

— Step one: stay put. Don't wander off too far from "Point Zero." Scouting the immediate area for info and help without straying too far is a safety measure—it helps you stay oriented and gives you a better grasp of the big picture without exposing yourself to unnecessary risks. —

— Step two: keep your ears open. Eavesdropping on whispers and rumors can be a goldmine for info. You can pick up on cultural cues, how people greet each other, recurring social patterns, the language... all those little things that give you a better idea of the social norms in an unfamiliar place. —

— I remembered those lessons I'd learned a while back; they're lifesavers when the stakes are high. I've definitely had my fair share of moments being lost or stuck in sketchy neighborhoods. —

— The trick is to get close without actually being there—finding a way to communicate without overexposing yourself. And the most important part? Figuring out how to get the locals to tell you everything while you reveal next to nothing. Or, at the very least, just the bare essentials. That was the most practical move I could think of right now. —

— Talking to a total stranger can be either a blessing or a curse, and honestly, I couldn't afford the luxury of taking that risk. —

— I glanced back at the alley and marked a mental perimeter of about two blocks from my current spot. I was in what looked like a market district: tons of food stalls, hardware shops, and other things I made a mental note of as I walked through the crowd, acting as chill as possible to blend in. — 

— Keeping my ears tuned to the hum of the crowd helped me pass as just another face in the mob. In this survival game, the number one rule is: don't stand out. That was exactly what I was aiming for. Analyze first, talk later. —

— Scanning the stalls and listening intently, I managed to pick out a few keywords. The first—and most important—piece of intel: I can understand the language. At least, I think I can. Some things feel off, like their accents, and when I look at the signs above the stalls, I can't recognize the script from any language I know. If I had to guess, the symbols look like a mix of Old Norse, Latin, or maybe Greek. Greek is my strongest candidate, and for some reason... I can understand it. Sort of. Which is weird, to say the very least. —

— It feels like a massive glitch in logic. My history background gives me some clues, but it just triggers more questions. The symbols look like the historical records I've studied, but how is it possible that I actually understand it? Why would people still be speaking a dead language? Is it part of the theme? Are they roleplaying? And—Wait. Why is there a goddamn giant tower, like miles high, right in front of everyone?! —

— I hadn't even noticed it. It wasn't until I looked up that I saw it clearly in the distance. A tower of impossible height, taller than anything I'd ever seen, piercing the very clouds. It was incredible—and physically impossible for something like that to exist. —

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— "I'm tripping balls, man... How do the laws of physics even allow a tower that size? How the hell did they build something like that?!" —

— I stood there, paralyzed, staring at this insanely tall tower—or what I assumed was a tower. I might not be an expert in architecture, but I could tell this thing was a masterpiece in every sense of the word. —

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— (Why aren't there photos of this thing on the internet? It should be a massive tourist landmark. How have I gone my entire life without ever seeing this?) — 

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[image] --> (The image is in the comments)

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— My eyes were wide as saucers staring at that massive tower. I managed to pull myself together after a few seconds, but everything still felt incredibly off. Maybe I really was at Disneyland, in one of those themed lands from the movies I watched as a kid? But nothing matched, and to be honest with myself... I was starting to panic. —

— I ended up veering off the main path and ducking into an alleyway—anywhere quiet where I could just slip away. For a moment, I actually thought I was going to have a heart attack from the sheer sensory overload. —

— A few crazy ideas flashed through my mind, but they couldn't be right. They were absolutely impossible, way too "high-fantasy." I shut them down instantly, clinging to my unwavering sense of logic. I went with the most reasonable explanation I could conjure —

— The world is a vast place. It's highly likely I haven't seen even half of the landscapes or structures humanity has to offer. Maybe I was in an Arab country? Though it seemed pretty weird not to see a single luxury car or anyone dressed in the local traditional clothing... but that wasn't the point right now. —

— That tower is just like the Burj Khalifa. That was the conclusion I forced myself to reach. I was desperate to rationalize it because the mere thought that what I was seeing might actually be what I suspected... that would change the rules of the game entirely. —

— Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something in a shop window: a flash of strange, blonde hair. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. —

— I moved closer to the reflection in the window. The glass was cluttered with products inside the shop, but I couldn't have cared less about those. The most shocking part was... me. Or what was supposed to be me. Everything had changed. I was looking at a complete stranger. —

— I raised my hand in a hesitant wave, and the reflection mirrored me perfectly. I started moving my hands in different ways, my jaw dropping lower with every movement. —

— My old young-adult face, with its permanent dark circles from exhaustion, was gone. It had been replaced by a much more youthful face, as if I'd suddenly been thrown back into my early teens. My eyes, which used to be a dull dark brown, were now a vibrant emerald green—so bright I could hardly believe they were mine. But my hair was the real kicker. —

— It was a brilliant blonde streaked with dark brown locks, looking like a fusion of two completely different people. The shock of seeing myself like this was mind-blowing; there are no words to describe it. —

— I leaned in closer to the glass, pressing my fingers against my face, desperate to confirm that this was actually real. —

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[image] --> (The image is in the comments)

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— "What the hell is happening to me... How is this even possible?" —

— "You've gotta be kidding me... right?" —

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["final chapter"] 

(Here's a gift from me for this chapter. Let me know if you'd like me to give this character more development).

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["Thank you for reading the chapter, I hope you liked it."]