Heavy thuds rumbled across the forest floor. Several adult men dressed in poor village clothes carefully carried a young man in strange clothing. He resembled Max, but he looked to be in even worse shape than before. His skin was deathly pale, and little to no warmth remained in his body.
"Seems like a bandit attack..." one of the men holding Max by the legs grumbled. He wore an annoyed expression, glancing again and again at the man in front. "Chief, do we really need to bring a half-corpse into our village? We can barely feed ourselves. If he becomes our responsibility—"
"Shut it." A fairly large man barked in a voice as deep as the bottom of the sea. "Since when did we leave people in need to die? Our pride has not yet been fully extinguished." His tone was firm, making several others flinch, for they had been thinking the same thing as the questioner.
Max, on the other hand, could barely hear the conversation. He could feel that he was being carried somewhere, but his vision remained dark. No matter how hard he tried, he could not wake up, trapped in a state between life and death. Despite the overwhelming weakness threatening to pull him under, he refused to submit to the darkness, clinging to every strand of consciousness he could muster.
He didn't know how much time had passed. At this point, it all felt like an illusion. The next moment he opened his eyes, his whole body ached with pain that threatened to knock him out again.
"Ah!" A melodic voice welcomed him. "You're awake! I'm so glad~~" The voice was as gentle as a light breeze. It brushed against Max's heart, jolting him fully awake. What he saw before his eyes made him gasp.
A girl around his age sat on an old wooden chair, her smile as wide and beautiful as the moon.
Her pale face made her features stand out. Hair as white as snow framed her youthful face. It made her look like a princess from a fairy tale, though a poor one, dressed in simple clothes. Her gray eyes held a faint tinge of blue, making Max feel as if she could see straight into his soul.
"Are you... an angel?" Max blurted out without thinking, stunned by her beauty. He truly believed for a moment that he had died and ascended to heaven, though the pain running through his body made him question that.
"Pfft~" The girl laughed so gently and warmly that it tugged at his heart. "An angel? Is that the best pickup line you could think of?" She brushed a tear from the corner of her eye.
"Sorry, I didn't mean—" Max tried to explain, but she cut him off.
"It's okay, it's okay. Ahhh, you're funny. I like that." Her smile widened even more. "Say, what's your name? And what were you doing by the road with such a nasty wound?" Her pale fingers touched his chest, brushing gently against the animal-skin wrappings covering his injury.
That action alone nearly made Max's heart jump out of his chest. In his entire life, no woman had ever been this close to him, let alone touched his chest. Red flushed across his cheeks. But soon he turned his face away, his expression falling into nonchalant sadness.
"Please don't touch me." He believed she wanted to bully him. After all, he never trusted women, especially now, after one had tried to kill him.
The girl quickly pulled her hand back, her smile fading into sadness and guilt. "Sorry, I didn't mean to touch you. It just happened..."
Seeing such a sad expression, Max felt a strange guilt tighten in his chest. "It's o-okay..."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. It gave him time to think about what was happening. Only now did he fully understand that he was alive. What he saw and felt was impossible to deny.
But why was he here?
He couldn't understand it. All he remembered was being in his apartment, and then... the memory came back blurry, as if hidden behind a thick layer of fog.
"Can I use your phone?" he asked suddenly, deciding to swallow his pride and call his mother for help—to get him to a hospital, and then to the police.
"Ph-one?" The girl tilted her head in confusion. "What is that?"
The strange reaction made Max question himself.
"You know, a phone. The thing you use to call people. It's this small." He showed the size with his fingers.
But the girl only looked even more confused.
"Seriously?" he muttered to himself. Now he truly didn't understand what was going on. He couldn't explain how he had ended up here.
"Sorry, I'm not sure what you're talking about, but you also didn't answer my question." Her face shifted from gentle to serious, her gaze now digging into his soul. A strange chill ran through his body, as if he were facing a wolf in the forest all alone. "Who are you? And what happened to you that left you wounded in this area?"
She didn't sound sweet anymore.
Max gulped and decided it was best to be honest. "My name is Max. I come from—"
A sharp pain shot through his temples, making him clutch his head with both hands. It was so unbearable it nearly knocked him out cold.
"I come from..." he tried again, but the pain tore through his mind once more, as if something was stopping him from speaking about his origins. "The west. I come from the west."
He lied.
As if his suspicion had been confirmed, the pain slowly faded. He found himself staring at the young woman's worried face up close, their noses almost touching.
"I'm sorry for pushing you..." she said gently. The coldness radiating from her vanished as if it had never existed.
She pulled away and sat back down.
"I'm Rosalia, daughter of Chief Henry of Stonehollow Village. It's a pleasure to meet you, Max." She smiled so gently that the pain from before began to fade. "And also, I'm your healer until your wounds are patched up. You can thank me later for saving your life~" she giggled softly.
In the next moment, Max's eyes widened as a green light wrapped around her gentle hand like a glove. When she pressed it against his chest, warmth spread through his body.
He sat there, stunned, as his wounds slowly healed beneath the animal-skin wrappings.
The truth finally settled in after battling against his common sense.
I'm not in my world anymore...