Chapter 4: The First Ones I Touched

After the awkward moment that ensued due to the understanding, she fixed her gaze on the dagger that had caused all these problems. She imagined how easy it would have been to kill the man without suffering harm with that weapon.

A shiver ran down her spine. Since when had she entertained such ominous thoughts? Since when had she considered killing so lightly? She realized she felt very little remorse for what she had just done.

She looked at her trembling hands in fear—not of what she had done, but that she didn't seem to care. She tried to convince herself that he was a bad man who deserved it. But it was futile. She remained distraught.

Not wanting to linger in that inhospitable place alone with her thoughts, she went to pick up the dagger. In the corner of her eye, she noticed a glint. Curiously, she picked it up—it was a very beautiful hand mirror, with golden details and a perfect reflection.

"Now you might wonder how one can see their reflection in the darkness, but indeed things reflect even if you can't see them, they are there. You just need to turn on the light. In her case, it wasn't necessary as she could see in the dark.

At first, she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. But as her eyes focused, her heart began to beat faster. She had realized that her hands seemed different, thinner and softer. Confused, she noticed a strange lightness in her step. Every movement seemed slightly out of sync with the familiarity of her body. The clues were there, but she hadn't put them together.

When she saw her reflection, her thoughts became a whirlwind of disbelief and fear. As she looked into the mirror, the air left her lungs. There, reflected, was not the masculine figure she had known all her life. Instead, there was a woman.

Her hair, once short and straight, now fell in soft waves to her waist. Her eyes had changed to rounder ones, a deep crimson. Her face had changed: more delicate, with high cheekbones and full lips. She looked down, observing the contours of her body, now with gentle feminine curves.

She brought her trembling hands to her face, touching her new features, hoping the reflection would change, that this was some kind of strange dream. But the reflection didn't change. She felt every touch, every caress, with a strange mix of recognition and alienation.

"What the hell...?" she murmured, her voice sounding softer than she remembered. The familiarity of her tone mixed with this new feminine cadence shook her.

As she tried to assimilate what she saw, a fleeting, daring thought crossed her mind. "Well, at least I'm quite attractive," she thought with a wry smile, looking at her face. She had always had a twisted sense of humor, and though this was a completely unexpected situation, her instinct was to find some humor amidst the chaos.

She looked at her chest, the most visible change after her hair. They were large, obviously so compared to the masculine ones. She squeezed them curiously, a strange tingling creeping up her spine.

"It feels strange," she said, raising her eyebrows. The first breasts she touched were her own... She didn't know what to think about that.

Obviously she put her hand in the inner area of her thighs,

She needed to confirm that she had indeed changed genders despite all the empirical evidence confirming it. Her hand dragged slowly and uncertainly over her skin. Because she was wearing a dress, it was somewhat awkward and cumbersome. She lifted the skirt and touched with fear.

"It's gone..." she finally said, accepting everything that was happening with a sigh. She had changed genders; it wasn't the end of the world, she thought, trying to relax.

"If they made me a woman, can't they reverse it too?" she thought hopefully, though it was complicated since she didn't even know who brought her there.

Again, she looked into the mirror. Long, disheveled white hair, blood-red eyes, and an adorable face. She recognized the face, not because it was hers. The body she now had was the one she had yearned for for a whole year, not as a clear body but as a character.

She was Nemes, the blood-born!

Her mind was chaos. Changing genders was one thing, but being a vampire from a game world was quite another. Was she dreaming? If so, it was a very lucid dream.

She pinched herself, testing for a possible awakening. Obviously, nothing happened. With a sigh, she resigned herself; she couldn't waste any more time—she had to survive wherever she was.

"I guess I'm a she now..." she said with a strange grimace, still not quite believing it. "For now," she added, as if not saying it would set a bad precedent.

She tucked the mirror into the bag she had stolen from the man, and she fastened both that and the dagger to the belt she was wearing, also thanks to the man.

She wanted to change her clothes, but the thought of wearing that blood-soaked bandit's clothes with strange stains made her nauseous. Besides, that clothing was several sizes too big for her now petite body.

...

She approached the previous campfire where she had seen the group of bandits. Before seeing them, she heard them; it seemed her hearing had improved even more since she had taken down the rascal.

A battle—metal clashing, shouts of war and death—resounded through the cave walls. When she got close enough, she could see what was happening.

A scene of blood, three bandits dismembered, and two still holding the front as best they could. They were fighting against three people dressed in slim, silver-plated armor, wielding huge, bloodied greatswords.

Behind those soldiers were two individuals. A fair-skinned girl in the prime of life, with a pained expression as if seeing the whole scene had hurt her. And a boy, with androgynous features and dark skin, with an expressionless face.

"Elves..." Nemes, still not fully accepting her new name, couldn't help but whisper upon seeing them. Both individuals had long horizontal ears and exuded an indistinguishable aura of elegance.

They were of elven race, like some characters in her game. The boy's long ears trembled, and his head turned 130 degrees to look at her. His empty eyes and impassive expression sent chills down her spine and instilled fear in her.

"There's another one!" he monotoned, pointing at her. One of the soldiers saw where he was pointing and started approaching, firm but wary.

She was going to have to fight.