Cherreads

Chapter 3 - New World 1

[Searching for suitable body.

No suitable body found in the surrounding area.

Not enough energy to expand the search area.

Searching for a solution.

Solution found.

The nearest corpse will be used, repaired and transformed to suit the host.

Body creation in process…

Knowledge and experience of all previous hosts of Mark of Phoenix will be implanted to host's mind.

Spear mastery acquired.

Bow mastery acquired.

...

Farming knowledge acquired.

Cooking knowledge acquired.

Connection between host and System has been established.

Not enough energy to...

Entering hibernation.]

Scias woke up to darkness and taste of dust.

His eyes adjusted slowly to reveal rough stone walls around him. He blinked, feeling strange sensation of eyelids that didn't quite move as expected.

'I'm... alive?' The thought echoed strangely in his mind, as if bouncing through unfamiliar corridors.

The memory of Zaros's betrayal flashed before him. The dagger. The slick warmth of his own blood. The blue light.

Scias lifted his hands before his face.

Pale, unmarked skin caught what little light shone into the cave. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, watching the movement with detached fascination.

These weren't his hands. No calluses from daily sword practice. No scar across the right knuckles from that fight with northern barbarians.

Foreign hands. Foreign body.

He traced fingers across his face, finding sharp cheekbones, a straight nose, a smooth chin without his characteristic short beard.

The feeling of emptiness that accompanied him for most of his life, was gone.

'What happened?' The voice had spoken of reincarnation, of Ostea. Whatever that was.

Slowly, Scias pushed himself upright. His muscles responded eagerly, stronger than expected in this unfamiliar form. He took a cautious step, then another, moving toward a patch of light that spilled from the cave's entrance.

The world outside was a riot of green—large grass field and in the distance, trees with broad leaves, undergrowth dense and vibrant. Nothing like the scrubland surrounding the battlefield where he...died.

But it was the sky that made him freeze in place. Above him hung a brilliant red sun in a clear blue sky.

"Red?" he whispered, his voice lower than it should be.

All his life, Eswua's yellow sun dominated the sky, casting everything in its glow. This red orb was alien to him.

'Did the Mark of Phoenix truly reincarnate me in another world?' He squinted up at the unfamiliar star, feeling deeply unsettled.

The voice mentioned many things—mastery of weapons he never trained with, knowledge he'd never learned, something called a 'System'.

Unfortunatelly for Scias, he recalled none of this information, only the cold certainty of death followed by awakening in this cave. At the time of reincarnation, he was unconcious.

He looked down at his chest, expecting to see the familiar blue mark of a bird. His new body had only tattered cloth, and beneath it, skin as unmarked as his hands.

"What am I now?" he asked the red sun, receiving no answer but gentle rustling of strange leaves.

'No need to dwell on things I can't change,' Scias thought, shrugging his unfamiliar shoulders.

As a commander, he learned that adaptability was as crucial as strength in battle. This was simply another battlefield—albeit one with different rules.

What was more important than adaptibility or strength was information. With information, anything could be achieved.

And information was something he lacked and needed to gather.

He surveyed his surroundings, noting the thickness of the distant forest, the unfamiliar chirping of birds, and strange plants and flowers.

Nothing resembled the sparse woodlands of his homeland. No landmarks to orient himself, no signs of civilization.

Scias turned back toward the cave, which would become his provisory home in this alien world.

The entrance was narrow, easily missed by casual passerby—if there were any to be found in this wilderness.

Inside, the cave opened slightly wider, and as his eyes readjusted to the gloom, Scias noticed what he overlooked in his earlier disorientation.

Two corpses lay crumpled against the far wall, their remains telling a grim tale.

Scias approached cautiously, noting the ragged clothes similar to those barely covering his own new body.

The first corpse clutched a rusted sword, its blade pitted and edge dulled beyond usefulness.

The second died with a dagger still lodged between its ribs—a blade in much better condition than the sword.

The cave walls around the bodies bore scratch marks and dark stains. Signs of a desperate struggle, ending in mutual destruction.

"This will be useful," Scias murmured as he carefully extracted the dagger from between the bones.

His own feet were bare, the bottoms already scratched from his brief exploration outside.

The dead men's boots were little more than rotting leather held together by stubborn stitching. Unusable.

Without hesitation, Scias stripped the corpses of their ragged garments. Using the dagger, he cut the sturdiest sections into strips, wrapping and tying them around his feet to fashion crude footwear.

He robbed them of their belongings, recalling the harsh lessons taught to imperial recruits. The dead had no use for clothing, and he felt no particular guilt in taking what might keep him alive.

With the dagger secured at his waist and his feet protected as best he could manage, Scias completed his examination of the cave. It was small, unremarkable save for the tale of violence written on its walls.

Nothing else of value remained. Time to venture into the unknown.

Scias stepped away from the cave entrance, scanning his surroundings with practiced caution.

Moving toward the trees, unfamiliar forest teemed with life—birds calling, insects buzzing, leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. His first priorities were clear: water and food.

As he was aproaching the forest. each step was deliberate, his weight distributed perfectly to minimize sound. His eyes tracked subtle movements in the undergrowth, recognizing signs of animal passage that he shouldn't have known to look for.

'Strange,' he thought, pausing right before the tree line.

He recalled his time in military, all the charges he held, all the sieges he planned, but as hard as he tried, he couldn't recall ever tracking game in woodlands.

Yet his body seemed to know exactly what to do, sliding between branches without disturbing them, eyes automatically finding the softest path through the underbrush.

After some time he found a way to a narrow creek. Around half an hour away from the cave.

The water ran clear over smooth stones, gurgling softly as it wound through the landscape. Scias knelt beside it, cupping his hands to bring water to his lips. He sipped cautiously, testing for any unusual taste that might indicate danger.

The water was cool and refreshing. He drank deeply, washing away the lingering taste of dust.

Scias looked at his reflection in the water.

A young face, perhaps sixteen years old, stared back at him. Masculine features with a handsome symmetry that his former weathered look long lost to battle scars.

Obsidian black hair of medium length framed his face, while bright scarlet eyes—startling in their intensity—gazed back with unfamiliar awareness.

'Not bad,' he thought, studying the youthful visage. He brushed his fingers across his face, as if to make sure it was real.

Then, his thoughts traced back to his current circumstances.

'No container,' he realized, looking down at his makeshift clothing. He had nothing to carry the water.

Everytime he would feel thirsty, he would have to travel around an hour just to drink some water. Half an hour there and the same time to get back.

This wouldn't do, but this problem would need solving later. For now, he turned his attention to finding food.

The woods felt somehow both threatening and welcoming. Scias kept mostly to the edge at first, studying the terrain, then he moved deeper inside until his eyes caught sight of something in the branches above—a nest, wedged in the fork of a tree.

Without thinking, he gathered several nearby stones. His arm moved with unexpected precision as he launched a stone at the nest.

First stone hit the nest in dead center, dislodging it and making it tumble to the ground with a soft thud.

Scias approached cautiously, then smiled when he saw it wasn't empty. Five speckled eggs, unbroken despite their fall, were inside.

Luckily, no bird in sight. Or perhaps unluckily, because he could have had meat instead of eggs for food.

Nevertheless, he was happy with his haul.

The sun begun its descent, golden light shining through the trees. Night would fall soon.

During his initial exploration he didn't find better place for shelter and thus, Scias began his journey back to the cave.

When he was getting out of the forest, he remembered to collect an armful of fallen branches and dry twigs, enough to sustain a small fire to coock the eggs.

With firewood tucked under his arm and eggs cradled carefully in one hand, he made his way back.

As Scias returned with his gathered supplies, he immediately set about creating a small fire near the entrance.

He positioned it carefully where breeze would carry the smoke outward rather than filling his temporary shelter.

'Now for those eggs,' he thought, staring at the speckled shells in his palm. 'No pot, no pan...'

A memory surfaced—not his own, yet somehow familiar. Knowledge he never learned yet suddenly possessed.

"Wood ash," he murmured. "Perfect for cooking eggs."

Scias arranged his campfire, ensuring it would burn down to the fine ash he needed. There was something satisfying about this primitive cooking. The patience required reminded him of siege warfare—the careful preparation before final assault.

While waiting for his fire to reduce to embers, Scias turned his attention to the grim remains inside the cave.

Though the skeletons had inadvertently provided him with initial resources, their presence made the cave feel... unwelcoming.

With determined efficiency, he carried the two skeletons outside. Later, he would burn their remains to send them on their way, just as he would do in Eswua.

The day's heat lingered in the air, promising a warm night ahead.

No need to maintain the fire after cooking—a fortunate circumstance given his limited supply of firewood.

Scias settled near the cave's entrance, positioned where the firelight wouldn't obscure his vision.

His gaze drifted upward, and what he saw made him catch his breath.

Two full moons hung suspended in the velvety darkness.

One a deep purple, the other an ethereal blue. They dominated the night sky, bathing the landscape in their otherworldly glow.

Between and beyond them, countless stars sparkled with impossible clarity.

'Nothing like Eswua's single pale moon,' he thought, mesmerized by the celestial display.

'Nothing like the hazy starlight I knew.'

His thoughts began to drift toward memories of his former life—the betrayal, his duties, the constant warfare—but Scias consciously redirected his focus.

'No. This is a second chance. A new beginning. The past is just that—past.'

Time slipped away as he studied the moons, marking their positions mentally as a navigator might. Eventually, his rumbling stomach drew his attention back to cooking.

The wood had burned down to perfect cooking ash. Scias carefully nestled the eggs into the hot, gray powder, turning them occasionally to ensure even cooking.

When finished, he cracked the shells against a stone and enjoyed his simple meal. Though satisfying, the five eggs barely took the edge off his hunger.

'Tomorrow,' he decided, his mind already imagining potential game he might encounter. 'I will try hunting.'

With a yawn, he moved inside the cave and immediatelly fell asleep.

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