I managed to escape the building—no, fortress—no, death maze, which also happened to double as the Middle-Aged Men's Secret Society Clubhouse. Who knew they'd go from book club to "summoning ancient beings with questionable fashion sense" so fast?
Outside, the castle-like infrastructure stood ominous behind me. Before me stretched a vast forest, pitch black, like nature's version of "don't go here." The moon? On strike. The stars? No-shows. My only flashlight? A wimpy flicker of fire magic I had no clue how to control, courtesy of my unplanned upgrade from "Guy Wearing Horns for a Prank" to "Reluctant Pyromancer."
Still, I sprinted into the woods like the first idiot in a horror movie. Why? Because the knight army currently raiding the place was not big on friendly fire warnings. Everyone in their path got a sword sandwich. Hard pass.
I had questions. Many questions. Like, "Why me?" and "Who still uses books for summoning?" and most importantly, "Can I sue?" But first, survive.
Then—because this world was clearly run by a Game Master with a sick sense of humor—a dagger whizzed past my face.
I barely dodged it, Matrix-style. If I'd been a split-second slower, it would've turned me into a budget version of a Pez dispenser.
[Confirmed: Mana Perception Imitation successful!]
[Confirmed: Mana Concealment Imitation successful!]
Great. Neat tricks. But could I get one called Not Dying Horribly Today?
I tried blasting the mystery attacker with fire, but surprise! They brought a friend. A second attacker sliced from behind, giving me just enough time to sacrifice my shoulder instead of my skull.
I winced, activated my Fire magic in a panic, and forced them back long enough to breathe.
First real battle. First real blood. Zero stars. Do not recommend.
I staggered back, trying to get a good look. My headband—complete with novelty demon horns—got sliced in half and hit the ground like a fallen prop from a budget cosplay convention.
That's when the assassins—two black-clad figures with only their very expressive eyes showing—froze. They were staring at my busted horns like they'd just realized Santa wasn't real.
Spoiler alert, folks: THE HORNS WERE FAKE.
I stood up straight and gave them my best disappointed parent voice. "1 vs 2? Bit unfair, don't you think? I'm just a regular guy who took a wrong turn on the way to a Halloween party."
"You can't fool us," one of them said. "We can clearly see your mana manifestation."
[Mana Perception: The ability to see someone's magic aura.]
[Mana Concealment: The ability to hide it.]
Wait... why didn't the cultists who summoned me have this?
Did they buy the bargain-bin summoning manual or something?
I activated Mana Perception and—holy inferno—I was a walking magical tornado. It's a wonder I hadn't attracted every magic bounty hunter within ten miles. I activated concealment and dialed it down until I looked like a responsible citizen with average magical emissions.
I smiled. "Better? Less threatening? Maybe... mildly charming?"
They didn't laugh. Rude.
One of them flanked right. The other zipped into the shadows. These guys moved like trained assassins with caffeine addictions.
Using Mana Perception was like having cheat codes—wallhack mode. I tracked their magic trails as they repositioned. I healed my shoulder with a bit of magic, shrugged, and got ready.
They struck in perfect sync again.
I launched fireballs. They dodged with infuriating ease.
They came close. One grazed my cheek and was gone before I could sneeze fire on him.
Blood trickled down my face. I wiped it, frowning.
"This is starting to feel personal."
They circled. Like sharks. But ninja sharks.
Then—again—they jumped. Same pattern. Only this time, I was ready.
I took a hit to my vambrace, caught the attacker's wrist mid-air, and with my free hand…
FOOM.
Flamethrower. To the neck. Direct hit. Sorry, buddy—crispy assassin, table for one.
As expected, the other two leapt in, counting on me being distracted. But I was ahead of them. With one hand, I torched the mid-air attacker before he could stab me. With the other, I roasted the foot of the third guy still on the ground.
He screamed. A lot. Like, "I'm rethinking my life choices" levels of screaming.
I casually walked over. "Just a friendly tip—you really should work on your group tactics."
He tried crawling away. Awkward, with half a leg.
"Curse y—"
"Yeah, yeah, me, your family, the day you were born—heard it all." FOOM.
He went up like dry leaves in summer.
To be honest, the screaming kind of threw me off.
This was the first time I intentionally killed someone.
Not like a game. Not some "defeat monster" cutscene. Real people. Real fire. Real crispy.
My hand trembled a bit.
And the weird part?
I didn't feel anything.
No guilt. No grief. Just… relief. And a twinge of panic that I was getting used to this way too fast.
I glanced back toward the castle ruins. Probably more knights. Probably more assassins. Probably more insane surprises.
Nope.
I turned and ran.