1 New World

"You need to wake him up so he can finish his part."

"But brother..."

"Shut up. Do you want us to stay here and do his work?"

"Maybe he's dead..."

"If he can't finish his work, then we'll all stay here."

Eric groaned in pain as a terrible headache hit him, and the noise around him grew louder, his head pounding and his ears ringing.

"Hey, wake up!"

Someone slapped his face with enough force to snap him out of his daze and wake him up instantly. His eyes twitched before opening to see a man's face in front of him.

"Wake up, rookie."

Eric felt a cold liquid being poured on his head. The cold sensation was so refreshing that he almost closed his eyes, but he stopped himself. This was no time to get distracted; he had to focus and find out where he was.

"Oh, he's awake."

"See, I told you that he wasn't dead."

"Huh, where am I?" Eric asked.

His headache subsided, and he could see his surroundings more clearly. He was in some kind of cave; the place was dimly lit, but he could see that he was surrounded by three men. Two of them were laughing and looking at him with a hint of mockery in their eyes, but the last guy had no smile on his face; he seemed angry as a vein popped out of his forehead and he glared at Eric.

Just as Eric was about to ask them where he was, a sudden jolt of pain stopped him. He hissed and put a hand on his right shoulder. But before he could get a good look at the cause, the guy in front of him snapped.

"You bastard, I don't care if you're a newbie. I'll kill you if you don't finish the job."

"What are you talking about?" Eric asked.

He didn't know what kind of work he was supposed to do; his head was still a mess. But his question seemed to annoy the guy because he grabbed Eric's shirt.

"This bastard, I..."

This guy. Even if Eric didn't quite understand what was going on and what was expected of him, he wasn't a pushover who would let others do whatever they wanted to him.

"What..."

Eric grabbed the blonde's wrist and squeezed until his face contorted in pain. This was always his way of dealing with people who were looking for trouble. First show that you weren't to be messed with, then leave the questions for later.

"Let go of me!" The blonde man said.

"You started this, but I'll give you a chance. Take your hand off." Eric said, continuing to squeeze the guy's hand.

"Bastard! What do you think you're doing to our brother?"

The other two men stopped laughing when they saw their friend's painful expression and quickly snapped at Eric, but before they could rush to his aid, a stern shout stopped them in their tracks.

"What's going on over there?"

The man holding Eric's shirt let go when he heard the voice and stood up straight, looking in the direction of the voice.

"It's nothing, Captain." He said it with a flattering smile on his face.

Eric followed his line of sight and found a man standing with a kerosene lantern in his hand. He was a little shorter than him, and he had a few scars on his bronze face.

The short man, whom the blond guy called Captain, was looking at them. His squinting gaze swept over everyone, pausing briefly on Eric, who was still sitting on the floor, before looking at the blond guy.

"The lunch break is already over! Get back to work, or there will be no pay for you today!" The captain said it loudly.

"Yes sir." Everyone shouted except the confused Eric.

When he saw them picking up their tools, the captain nodded, turned, and walked away.

"Oy, bastard! You heard the captain! If you want to get paid today, you better start mining!" The blond man said this to Eric before walking away with his two followers.

Eric looked at their retreating figure before turning his attention to his shoulder. There was some kind of tattoo—no, it was more like a mark made by a hot iron on his skin. The mark looked like a snake wrapped around its tail.

This symbol. The symbol was familiar, and he could swear that he had seen it before, but he couldn't remember exactly where.

'Wait a minute. Didn't I die?!'

He remembered taking his last breath on the hospital bed after being diagnosed with late-stage cancer, yet here he was, alive and well.

Then he remembered the feeling of being pulled right after he died.

'Was I reincarnated in another body?'

Eric thought, a look of curiosity mixed with shock on his face.

During his time in the hospital, reading novels was his only source of pleasure to escape his grim reality. He quickly became an avid reader of fantasy novels and was familiar with this kind of setting; he was just surprised that this fantasy of his was becoming reality.

He couldn't see much in the dim light, but he could see muscles he didn't have before, and his skin was quite pale compared to before.

The feeling of possessing another body was strange, and he felt a pang of guilt, but he quickly convinced himself that the original owner had already died before he occupied his body. This made it easier for him to relieve his guilty conscience.

Deep down, he was more happy than guilty. He bet that any dying person would try to cling to life, no matter what the price. Even if a few of his friends would be sad to see him go, he was sure they would quickly move on; that was life.

'But why can't I remember anything?''

After trying to remember how the original owner got here, he found that his mind was a blank slate. It was as if the memories of the original owner were erased after he took over.

"Son, are you okay?"

Eric was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt someone shake his shoulder. Lifting his head, he saw a short old man with a partially bald head.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said as he tried to get up, but his aching muscles failed him, and he struggled to stand for a moment.

"Here, take it." The old man said that and offered his hand.

"Thank you." Eric took the arm, and the old man pulled him to his feet.

"You're new here, aren't you?" The old man asked, and when he saw Eric nod, he continued, "Then you should take a pickaxe and get to work before the captain gets back."

"Work? Wait, old man. Can you tell me what is going on? Where am I?" Eric asked, rubbing his aching shoulder.

"Huh, how can you not know where you are? Did you hit your head and lose your memory or something?"

"Yeah, I don't know who hit me in the head." Eric massaged his temple before looking at the old man. "I'm sure I'll get my memory back if you answer my questions."

The old man looked doubtful, but finally, he answered.

"Well, you are currently in the mines that belong to the Temple of Fire and Iron, and..."

Hearing the old man's words, Eric was shocked to hear critical information.

"Wait, old man, did you say we are in the Temple of Fire and Iron?"

"Yes." The old man looked confused as to why he had a shocked look on his face.

"Let me ask you something," Eric said in a serious tone. "What is the name of this world we live in?"

"Huh, how..."

"Just answer the question, please."

The old man looked at him for a while before he spoke. "Vanir world."

Those two words resounded like thunder in Eric's mind.

Vanir World, the Temple of Iron and Fire, and the tattoo on his shoulder—he knew them all.

He finally knew what kind of place he was in, and he was both terrified and excited.

'I reincarnated into a novel!'