Several days had passed since Sho Noerant and Cassandra Miolovel had been thrown into their new vessels in a world called Rivera.
There were no explosions.
No system voices.
No extraordinary events.
Only routine.
Every morning, the sun rose from behind the hills, illuminating the vast fields of wheat. Sho woke up early, helping his foster parents—Irene's father and mother—till the soil, carry harvests, and clean the livestock pens. His hands blistered, his back ached, and sweat poured endlessly.
Cassandra was no different.
Despite being the only daughter of Rivera's village chief, she received no special treatment. She still worked in the fields, helped the villagers, carried water, and even lifted heavy sacks of wheat with her athletic build. This world did not care about status. If you wanted to eat, you worked.
Funny, Sho thought.
In their old world, Cass had been a girl constantly surrounded by trouble and arguments—usually with him. In this world, she looked… fitting. As if the body and memories of this vessel guided her naturally to become part of Rivera.
And yet, beneath it all, something felt wrong.
Memories.
Cass would often freeze in the middle of her work. Her gaze turned empty, her hands stopped moving. The memories belonging to this body—of a mother lying weak in bed, of a plague that swept through the village, of death that came far too early—haunted her relentlessly.
She never spoke about it.
Sho knew.
And he chose to remain silent.
Because he was no better.
As an orphan taken in by Irene's parents, Sho felt a strange warmth. That house felt… familiar. Too familiar. Sometimes he forgot that this was not his old home.
What unsettled him the most was Irene.
For some reason, the girl reminded him of Cora.
Not her face.
Not her voice.
Her aura.
Irene was strict. Very strict. And when she was angry, there was a strange pressure in the air that made Sho instinctively swallow his saliva and choose silence.
One day, it happened.
Sho—exhausted at the time—accidentally shoved Irene, causing her to fall into the mud. The problem was simple, but the timing was fatal.
She had finished bathing three minutes ago.
Three minutes.
Within seconds, Irene's scream echoed across the fields.
Sho didn't even get the chance to apologize.
He was beaten senseless.
There was no resistance. Aside from the fact that it was entirely his fault, Sho wasn't stupid enough to hit a woman—especially an angry woman who felt… terrifying.
Cass stood at a distance, covering her face as she struggled to hold back laughter.
"Idiot," she muttered.
The days passed with the same pattern.
But amidst the busy routine, Sho and Cassandra secretly carved out time for themselves.
They returned to the grassland where they had first awakened in this world.
This time, it wasn't for confusion.
They came with purpose.
Training.
Sho and Cass had been taught martial arts since childhood by Klein Noerant—Sho's father. Brutal training, often accompanied by real punches, but effective. Their bodies remembered the movements, even though the world had changed.
They began with light sparring.
No excessive techniques.
No full strength.
Their fight was evenly matched.
Whether Sho was holding back, or Cassandra feared hurting him—no one knew for sure. What mattered was that there was no winner.
They stopped, breathing heavily.
"Do you think…" Cass asked quietly, "we're ready?"
Sho stared at his own hands. "For this world? No."
He shrugged. "But having something is better than having nothing."
In their original world, their abilities might have been considered impressive. But in this unfamiliar fantasy world—a world of magic, monsters, and heroic artifacts—those abilities felt… small. Almost useless.
Still, Sho clung to one old principle:
Survival mattered more than victory.
As the sun tilted westward, their gazes often drifted toward Rivera's central square.
There, where two heroic artifacts rested.
Balmung—the sacred sword embedded firmly in a stone monument.
And Vijaya—the mysterious bow floating without support.
Sometimes, for no clear reason, both of them felt something.
Like a call.
Not a voice.
Not a light.
Just a vague sensation, as if the artifacts were aware of their presence.
Or perhaps… it was only an illusion.
A naive feeling that they were the center of this world.
When in truth, they were nobody.
And this world—slowly but surely—would soon teach them the true meaning of reality.
---
The night wind blew dry across the hills.
A man stood atop a tall rock, staring into the distance. His face was rough, scarred by old wounds. His beard was unkempt, his eyes sharp—the eyes of someone who lived by stealing and killing without hesitation.
Rivera.
The small village lay below, peaceful. Too peaceful.
The man smirked.
Rumors never spread without reason. And rumors about Rivera had circulated among bandits for quite some time. A remote village, seemingly poor—yet protected by a Barrier. Two heroic artifacts stood at its center: the sword Balmung and the bow Vijaya.
For fools, it was a warning.
For him, it was an invitation.
"Dead heroes always leave treasures behind," he muttered.
He had observed Rivera for weeks. Studying patrol times, population numbers, and daily habits. But one thing continued to bother him.
The Barrier.
No ordinary village possessed protection like that. But was the Barrier truly flawless?
He raised his hand, signaling.
Several subordinates moved forward, approaching the invisible boundary surrounding Rivera. They hesitated briefly—then stepped through.
No flash of light.
No explosion.
No rejection.
They passed through without issue.
The man narrowed his eyes.
Soon, his subordinates returned, grins plastered on their faces.
"Boss," one of them said. "That barrier… it's strange."
"How so?"
"It doesn't react to humans. Good intentions, bad intentions—everyone can pass. Looks like it was only meant to repel monsters."
The man fell silent for a few seconds.
Then he laughed.
A low, heavy laugh filled with certainty.
"In that case," he said as he stepped down from the rock, "this village is finished."
There was no longer any reason to wait.
---
Time passed.
Rivera's gates were now filled with empty wagons. Strangers roamed the village—hard faces, hidden weapons, and gazes that made the villagers uneasy. No one dared to question them. No one dared to resist.
Until finally… the bandits moved as one.
Screams shattered the silence. Houses were searched. Villagers were dragged from their homes, bound, and forcibly gathered in the central square—directly beneath the monuments of Balmung and Vijaya.
Crying mixed with desperate screams.
The man stepped forward, staring at the people of Rivera one by one, as if selecting merchandise.
Then, without warning, he hurled a torch at one of the houses.
Flames licked the straw roof, spreading rapidly.
The screams grew louder.
"Watch carefully," he said coldly. "I can kill you whenever I want."
Black smoke rose into the night sky—a signal impossible to mistake.
Rivera had fallen into their grasp.
---
The grassland felt colder as night fully descended.
The sky was moonless, only dim stars hanging far above. Sho lay on his back, hands behind his head, his breathing slowly evening out.
"Hah… I'm tired," he muttered. "Feels like I could fall asleep right here."
Cassandra sat a short distance away, gazing at the sky without truly seeing it. A sense of unease pressed against her chest—something she couldn't explain.
Then she saw it.
An orange glow flickered in the distance.
Cass stood up immediately. "Sho."
No response.
"Sho." Her voice rose. "Wake up."
Sho let out a low groan. "If this is about a shooting star or some other nonsense, I'm seriously going back to sleep—"
Cass grabbed his arm roughly. "That's fire."
Sho opened one eye. Then both.
His body tensed instantly.
In the distance, from Rivera's direction, flames surged into the night sky. Not a small blaze. Not a single point. But a massive fire, bright enough to be seen from the grassland.
Rivera had never held bonfire festivals.
The vessel's memories pulsed painfully in Cassandra's mind. The village was peaceful. Too small for grand celebrations. There was no such tradition.
"It's not a festival…" Cass whispered. "It's a fire."
Sho was fully upright now, his relaxed expression gone.
"If that's a fire," he said quietly, "then something is very wrong."
Cass didn't wait. "We need to go back. Now."
Sho sighed as he stood, grumbling, "If it turns out to be someone burning dinner too hard—"
He stopped.
Because as they ran closer, the fire became clearer.
Too big.
Too wild.
Sho swallowed. "Okay. I take it back."
They rushed toward Rivera.
---
As they neared the village boundary, both stopped.
Sho raised his hand, signaling them to hide.
From the shadows, they saw it—empty wagons lined along the road. Rough-looking men stood guard with weapons, laughing quietly as they talked among themselves.
Not a single familiar face.
Cass clenched her fists.
"Bandits," Sho whispered. "No doubt about it."
The most logical option surfaced immediately: run. Go to a neighboring village. Ask for help. Return with reinforcements.
But that logic collapsed instantly.
Too far.
Too slow.
In that time, Rivera could be reduced to ashes.
Sho glanced at Cass. They understood each other without words.
Carefully, they slipped inside, using darkness and gaps in the patrols. Their movements were light and practiced—skills they had never fully realized before, honed through years of "disappearing" from Cora's wrath in their old world.
Eventually, they reached a narrow alley near Rivera's hall.
And there, they saw everything.
The villagers were bound, sitting or lying on the ground. Faces filled with fear. Suppressed sobs. In the center of the square, beneath Balmung and Vijaya—
The village chief knelt.
A man stood before him, kicking him without hesitation.
"Where is the treasure?" the man shouted. "Don't tell me you don't know!"
A punch slammed into the chief's face. Blood splattered onto the ground.
Cassandra held her breath.
That was her father.
Her blood boiled. Her eyes trembled with rage. She stepped forward—but Sho's hand clamped tightly onto her shoulder.
"Cass," Sho whispered firmly. "Wait."
"My father—" Cass's voice shook.
"I know," Sho said, tightening his grip. "But if we act recklessly, we'll both be discovered and killed right here."
Amid the shouting and insults, the bandit boss grew bored.
"Your answers are tiresome," he said coldly. "Let's change the method."
He glanced to the side.
Irene.
The girl was dragged forward. Her parents struggled, crying and begging as they fell to their knees.
"Please! Don't! She doesn't know anything!"
The bandit boss smiled wickedly. He grabbed Irene's chin and slowly licked her neck.
Cass trembled violently.
"What a shame," the man said, "that such a sweet girl has to die."
A knife glinted in his hand.
"Or… maybe not." He turned back to the village chief. "Tell me where the treasure is. Or I'll defile this girl in front of everyone."
Sho's chest tightened.
At that moment, a system panel appeared before them.
[WARNING]
This choice is dangerous.
Fatal consequences detected.
Cass no longer cared. She was about to move—
"Don't," Sho whispered urgently.
Cass turned. Sho's face was serious—unlike him.
"I'll go first," he said quietly. "Wait for my signal."
"Sho—"
"Trust me."
Cass clenched her teeth, forcing herself to stay still.
In the square, the bandit boss's hand began tugging at Irene's clothes.
And then—
Sho stepped out of the darkness.
"HEY."
The voice split the night.
Every eye turned toward him.
"I KNOW WHERE RIVERA'S HIDDEN TREASURE IS!"
Sho's shout echoed across the square.
It was so loud, so sudden, that all the bandits froze. Even the raging flames seemed to dim for a moment.
The bandit boss turned slowly.
Then laughed.
Not loudly.
Not with satisfaction.
But with pure mockery—like someone who had just heard the worst joke in the world.
"You?" he sneered. "A scrawny kid who doesn't even look old enough to lift a sword?"
He stepped closer. "Stop pretending to be a hero before you die a stupid death."
The other bandits laughed.
Sho swallowed, but stood his ground. "Let the girl go," he said again, quieter but firm. "I'll lead you to Rivera's treasure."
The bandit boss looked at Irene. He thought for a moment… then smiled widely.
"Interesting," he murmured. "Fine. I like fools with guts."
He shoved Irene roughly to the ground. "Go."
Her parents immediately pulled her away, sobbing in relief.
Cass, watching from the alley, almost couldn't breathe. But that relief didn't last.
The bandit boss clapped once.
"Now," he said, "let's make this more… entertaining."
He drew a sword from his waist and threw it toward Sho.
It landed at his feet.
"Pick it up," he ordered. "Fight one of my men. One-on-one."
He pointed to a large bandit with broad shoulders and scarred muscles. "If you win, I'll leave Rivera."
Sho wasn't stupid.
He knew the promise was empty.
But he had no choice.
Sho bent down and gripped the sword.
Heavy.
Too heavy.
The weapon felt foreign in his hands—cold, stiff, unlike anything he had ever held. His heart pounded.
In the alley, Cassandra bit her lip.
They had never wielded a sword before…
But while all eyes were on Sho—
Cass moved without waiting for his signal.
Quietly and carefully, she crept toward the villagers. Her hands trembled as she untied one binding after another. Those freed quickly spread out in silence, suppressing their voices, waiting for the right moment.
Meanwhile—
The large bandit attacked first.
A powerful horizontal slash.
Sho jumped back. Dust burst from the ground. The attack was slow, but if it landed, Sho knew his bones would shatter.
Not fast… but deadly.
Sho tried to counterattack.
His hands shook, the sword lagged in the air. Too heavy. Too awkward.
His strike was nearly meaningless.
"Weak," the bandit mocked as he attacked again.
Sho stumbled, almost falling—but he smiled faintly.
"All right… then."
He swept his foot across the ground.
Sand exploded into the air.
The bandit cursed as grit filled his eyes.
"Cheap trick—!"
Sho didn't wait.
He struck quickly. Sloppy slashes. Ugly. Unclean. But enough to force the bandit back half a step.
Sho wasn't chasing victory.
He was stealing the tempo.
Every small opening he exploited—dodging, quick stabs, retreating again. His attacks weren't lethal, but they were relentless.
The bandit grew furious.
"STOP RUNNING!"
Sho saw an opening.
And without hesitation—
He kicked the bandit square in the groin with all his strength.
Dishonorable.
Unchivalrous.
But effective.
The bandit collapsed, groaning in agony.
The square fell silent.
Sho gasped for breath, his sword nearly slipping from his grip.
He looked at the bandit boss. "I won."
The boss stared at his fallen subordinate.
His expression hardened.
"…Interesting," he finally said.
At the same time, Cass saw that nearly all the bindings had been undone. The villagers were ready to move at any moment.
Sho stood in the center of the square, his body trembling, his breathing ragged—yet his eyes still burned.
They weren't strong.
They weren't ready.
Sho didn't feel victorious.
He only felt… alive a little longer than he should have been.
But they adapted.
And for the first time since arriving in this world—
They survived.
[To be continued…]