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An Ordinary Reincarnation

WCP Bronze Winner ----------- ----------- Life is best in a flow, but what if something breaks that? Alfred Lunenberg, a talented engineer of the 21st century is one such person who's flow is broken. Thrown into the void of existence, he experiences reincarnations of unordinary circumstances. Will he find a place that sticks? Or will he forever be trapped in the maddeningly endless cycle of reincarnation? ----------- This story, following the aforementioned Alfred, shows his life(s) as he navigates different worlds. After each death, he takes over a recently deceased person's body and mind. Through his extreme will to live, he fights tooth and nail to rise up and change his fate. Still, terrible, sad, happy, and tragic times follow the inevitable conclusion that is: Death. All he has left to ask himself is: "What's the point?" Torturous death, betrayal from a leader, and a lonely assassination. All are ends to lives that could happen should he follow this question to its bitter end. Each reincarnation in this story has something new to offer. Be that alien technology, steam punk and guns. a battle filled gladiator arena, even swords and magic. In which one will he find that "point"? How will he claw his way to the top of it all? ----------- ----------- Notice: There are some graphic scenes, If you aren't into that, you've been warned. ----------- ----------- Art/photo was found on pinterest. If the artist ever wants me to remove it, message me on discord (name in bio). ----------- ----------- Join the novel's Discord: https://discord.gg/v4CdpA6ksJ

Caesar_of_Oedon · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
44 Chs

Wrong

Alfred sped towards Jürgen in an unnatural looking manner, sending shivers down the spines of the audience. No child as young as him should have such control as to entirely eliminate wasted movement to this extent.

Unputerbed, Jürgen swung an axe at the perfect time to meet Alfred's head. Alfred analyzed this perfectly and stopped his head as close to the axe's trajectory as he could, letting it create a scratch akin to what one would make with a fingernail.

Alfred twisted his body and thrust his sword forward with deadly force and terrifying accuracy.

Due to the unexpected response to his attack, Jürgen was forced to give up his aggression and use a specialized technique.

With his other axe, he narrowly redirected Alfred's perfect thrust, followed up by a violent counter clockwise left axe cut.

Seeing this in slow motion, Alfred had already come up with his next move. Ducking out of the trajectory of the swing, he performed a low sweep of Jürgen's legs, leaving him upside down.

To his surprise, Jürgen managed to continue the swing while in this position, forcing Alfred to block with the sword in his right hand, leaving him with no other choice but to bash him away using his shield.

Jürgen used the momentum from this bash to transfer into a springy back handspring, easily escaping the situation with only a bruised arm and small nick on the cheek.

The two circled each other once they had their feet on the ground, ending in a mad dash to meet in the middle. When trading blows, Alfred felt a slight numbness in his arms, but thankfully wasn't pushed back. He inwardly thanked his master's judgment and vowed to learn to do the same one day.

Jürgen's style matched Alfred's tempo quite well, and even at points exceeded his with periodic techniques thrown out, although Alfred couldn't truly tell when they happened, only guessing based on sudden spikes in speed or strength of attacks.

"Clang!~"

Alfred took a heavy attack to his shield, perfect for Nidas' Cobra.

Alfred shifted his foot sideways and snapped his whole body in an instant, stabbing Jürgen in his arm. Jürgen continued on for a moment before noticing how sluggish his left arm felt.

'What a tricky technique!' Jürgen thought.

Alfred simultaneously stepped forward as Jürgen stepped back. Every step Jürgen made or swing he swung was met optimally with Alfred's sword and shield.

The audience couldn't help but find Alfred's movements unnatural, especially the high level martial artists among them.

In particular, his spacing was robotic… almost as if he was able to see in slow motion…

Jürgen, being the main thing this spacing was being used against unsurprisingly, felt annoyed. Reaching into his vast arsenal of techniques, he initiated a long flurry of attacks aimed at all different areas of Alfred's body.

'The speed and intensity of the attacks could only come from a specialized technique, and techniques always had flaws, this one either on purpose or coincidentally matched up with Jürgen's apparent physique' Alfred thought.

Already, the open wounds on his body seemed to stop their bleeding. Alfred had no scientific response for it, so he could only wonder. 'The logistics aren't important at the moment.'

Alfred was quickly forced into a defensive position, cementing his need for a defensive stance and slew of techniques that he hasn't had time to master.

"Clang!~ Clang!~"

Three, four, five, ten, twenty strikes were parried, and many more were narrowly dodged, and many reached Alfred's flesh, leaving cuts and gashes across his body, although none impeded movement due to Alfred's careful choosing of what did and did not hit him.

"Shhing!~"

"!!!"

'Damn!' Alfred swore internally.

Out of nowhere, Jürgen slashed with an arm that was in a position it shouldn't have been able to at Alfred's face, leaving him with no choice but to allow the deepest wound he's experienced yet go across his face from cheekbone to cheekbone. The axe ripped through the air and his skin like paper, creating an intimidating sound.

A moment's pause appeared after that attack, which Alfred pounced on, slashing at Jürgen's throat, opening a bloody gash on his neck. It missed his windpipe, but he was bleeding profusely.

The numerous cuts and gashes should have knocked out anyone else at Jürgen's level by Alfred's calculations, of which he trusts to a 100% degree, he measured the blood himself throughout the fight in between strikes. Somehow, Jürgen was still standing and only partially pale.

Jürgen had already moved onto another attack despite the gash. He swung at Alfred once again, which he was able to backstep perfectly. Alfred swung his sword despite the fact that he was out of range, prompting Jürgen to prepare to run in, but off Alfred's sword flew a pile of sand and blood into Jürgen's eyes, temporarily blinding him.

Alfred used his whole body to shield bash Jürgen instantly before he could blindly retaliate with his other axe. A visceral crunch permeated telling Alfred his attack was successful.

Although blinded, Jürgen still knew where Alfred was. They were now basically on top of each other, after all.

In that moment, Jürgen dropped both axes and wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck in a Guillotine hold, additionally he planted both his feet that were momentarily lifted off the ground from the prior shield bash and held himself up with his core.

'Shit!' Alfred was in trouble. He had no experience with grappling in the slightest. Already, he felt his consciousness fading despite only being held for a few seconds. The pressure Jürgen was able to place on his neck was far greater than what he had seen in MMA back on earth. If he thought about it for a moment, it wouldn't be too surprising seeing that seemingly every other instance of martial arts or physical movement was far more advanced on this planet. Alas, Alfred had only one goal right now, stay awake.

Jürgen had partially lifted Alfred up off the ground, forcing Alfred to twist and turn his body with all his might.

His flailing eventually returned his feet to the floor, letting him attempt a hail mary.

Kicking the floor with his entire being, Alfred sent his body flying above and over Jürgen, releasing the pressure on his neck for a moment. Alfred had already dropped his weapons, so he grabbed onto Jürgen's shirt and performed a midair throw using his momentum.

Jürgen let go to make sure he landed properly, giving Alfred the moment he needed to catch his breath.

Jürgen rolled back onto his feet and sprinted at Alfred, sending a punch to his jaw. Alfred slipped and struck Jürgen's liver. Jürgen somehow resisted the automatic response to keel over and countered Alfred with a hook to his temple.

Instantly, Alfred's entire vision blurred. It took all his willpower to stay on his feet, and even more to keep his eyes open. Through that, Alfred still had more than enough time perceptually to brace for the body slam coming his way.

Alfred got sent to his back, and Jürgen sidestepped to deliver a soccer kick to Alfred's head. In that moment before touching the ground, Alfred got his hands under him and twisted to meet Jürgen with an up kick and a shaky kip up.

The surprise retaliation resulted in a loud impact on Jürgen's jaw. He was still awake, but had no time to react to Alfred rushing to his side and punching him in the face with his entire body behind the attack.

Jürgen rotated halfway upside down from the impact. Alfred planted his foot and spun around, kicking up a bit of sand in the process. In one smooth motion, he kicked at Jürgen's head clean on, snapping it back. For good measure, Alfred kicked Jürgen again in the kidney before he even fell over.

Then, his body disappeared.

Finally, many bated breaths could finally express their boiling excitement.

"WHAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!!~~"

The crowd roared loud enough to knock Alfred out of his concentration, ending his HSM (although exhaustion also contributed to that).

The peach fuzz on his neck vibrated from the noise and the small bits of sand beneath his feet bounced up and down as if a category 3 earthquake was beginning. Alfred lost his footing and kneeled on the bloody ground.

Blood flowed down his face from the gash across his face. He licked his lips, tasting the iron.

'Over. Fucking fin…'

"Pompf~"

.

.

.

Above in the noble layer, an old woman of indeterminate age looked down with interest. Next to her pulling on her dress was a young girl with a glowing expression filled with admiration.

"She won! She won grandma! She's so cool- Gah!"

"Young miss!" A butler with gray hair, obviously from age as indicated by his wrinkled face pinched her ear. "Refer to her royal eminence respectfully! Your actions may cause complaints of… favoritism."

A few nobles looked over in amusement, indicating the commonality of such actions.

The Empress looked over at the young girl and butler with a gaze consistent with what she showed before. The skin beside her mouth twitched ever so slightly, but she remained silent and let the butler tell off her granddaughter.

'Sigh… let those brats and scheming cronies think it. It's true. Both her and her mother are my favorite, rest her soul.' she lamented inwardly. 'Ahh- the answer to the dilemma eludes me. James is right in scolding her as well. Maybe I should make clear to her not to act like that to me in public as well.'

Although it didn't show on her face, the Empress had many… well… unladylike thoughts that she kept to herself. In reality, one would be ignorant at best to be surprised of this fact if you weren't a frog in a well on another planet. She was Elanora Naji, after all.

The empress turned back to the silver haired girl currently getting carried away by medics.

'Still, that lass reminds me of myself, I look forward to her audience. Hopefully she's as quick witted in conversation as she is in battle.'

.

.

.

Somewhere in the depths of the Great Lake Fenrir ripples erupt, pushing away the wildlife.

The origin point is an inconspicuous black square submerged in sand at the very bottom of the deepest part of the sea. It wouldn't take a genius to put together the fact that it is a door to an underground area due to the handle clearly visible.

One step inside and anyone with a functioning nose would no doubt puke at the suffocatingly thick stench of blood, sweat, soot, and rot.

"Shuah~"

Again, a ripple permeates throughout the surrounding area, kicking up dust.

Going deeper, sinister sights and sounds match the stench of the "entrance". Voices of children can be heard softly crying, wailing, cursing, pleading, and grunting. Worse yet is the silent cells littered along the walls.

Silent, but not empty.

Blank and expressionless children who are skinnier than Alfred was in his last reincarnation sway robotically back and forth in corners, on the floor, or standing up. Their faces, despite the structure of the rest of them, are wrinkled and saggy, and their hair is uncharacteristically white. Their fingernails and toenails have grown to an absurd degree, to the point where it should be impossible to have happened at all.

Through the farther off wails and eerie nothingness of the kids in foremost cells, a distorted and awkward chuckle could be heard.

The culprit is a shriveled old man hunched over a pulsating glob of organic matter that is somehow hovering inches above a stained red wood desk. From the smell, blood was the dye of choice.

"f-Fin-naly~"

Only a whisper exited his cracked lips, but that was all that needed to be said. Whatever it was, it was finished.

Then! In a flash and powerful ripple that sent the old man reeling, a suffocating bloodlust-filled beam of deep blood red visual äura shot up and out of the "lake", if one could call it that. Not one civilian saw this phenomenon, the nearest islands were weeks of high speed boat travel away, but a select group of people felt its presence.

Across the continent, faster than light could have reached them, the few masters with a manifesto felt a shiver go down their spine. Each one looked in the direction of the Wolf Continent.

By either fate or just plain coincidence, two of these very few and far between masters were in the same room together. Both felt the same thing, and their conversation inevitably took a pause. For a while, they both sat there, wide eyed looking off in the distance.

In their gut, they felt something indescribable by humanity's current vocabulary, something so vile and utterly…

""Wrong""