1 Volume 1. Chapter 0 - Prologue

Volume 1. Chapter 0 - Prologue

With every step, even in the busy crowd, there was a knock. The rhythmic ringing of my sabathons reverberated with a barely audible, booming echo, which could not be muffled even on the bustling street of the city. I set off again, after reporting to the local monarch.

Heading along the exact route towards the exit from the city, I only turned around for a moment, and my gaze inevitably fell on a small medieval castle bathed in the rays of the sun. Every part of him, his entire environment, gave off an aura of prosperity and life. The green surroundings were classically combined with light brick, as if in the proverbial fairy tale.

I don't want to linger here, in any case, my mission is completed, it remains only to leave. And the local kinglet now knows that his country has got rid of another reason for the disappearance. Why would I even report to someone insignificant and so pompous, but at the same time, so like everyone else and plain, to the king. The typical image of a plump, lazy, and wrapped in expensive scarlet fabrics individual has mixed up again, giving rise to the local head of this small country, which will go out at the slightest threat. So why should I talk to him?

Well... indirectly, I'm still a hero. No matter how ironic it sounds.

After all, to be more precise, the one who cleanses the world after the arrival of the "saviors". Which, as a rule, always leave behind too many problems and non-decomposable garbage.

Tsk are clueless.

The only thing that pleases is their lack of imagination. Everything is like a carbon copy, hypocritical, self-satisfied and at the same time loving to amuse their ego, just as selectively helping the "weak", throwing away the power lent to them for a moment. If I had my way, I wouldn't be involved in this at all.

But my hands are tied and my movements are limited in time. Something literally, and something figuratively.

Today's task is completed, but this does not mean that the end has come.

Once upon a time, there was a hero, he was famous for strength and power, and also had many powerful servants. Having destroyed the world's evil, he founded his small, beautiful and peaceful kingdom. As the years passed, the hero died of old age. The servants also passed away, except for the most faithful and long–lived - the scarlet dragon. But, years of bloodshed and old age took their toll, which made him crazy.

And if it's on business. The hero who stayed here before asked the higher powers for the ability to create minions from magical objects.

The last one, created with the help of divine abilities and without at least some hard work on the part of the hero himself, was the sword with which he destroyed evil. And then later became the core for the dragon.

The blade itself was too strong and could disrupt the steady balance of good and evil.

The order is to destroy it.

The fight was not difficult, we both managed to make only one hit each. Besides, considering that the local kinglet has sword fragments, and I am standing on my feet, the outcome of the battle is obvious.

And back to the question, why should they be taken to the king?..

Well, I have to see the one whose ancestor I'm raking after. People will feel safer too. And I don't mind too much. I have my own advantage in this, the only advantage that it is better for no one to know about.

Scratching my elbow, from which, instead of its usual continuation, only slices of meat and skin hung, I wandered on, towards the exit from the city. A hideously sunny and peaceful place, with friendly people. At the same time, my worn, almost completely black and unaffordable armor for an ordinary person, under the plates of which bones are constantly clicking, absolutely unimaginable creatures for people of this world. And besides, the absence of a hand gave the impression of the embodiment of the echo of war, as well as a mixture of feelings of awe and horror in their pampered eyes.

Maybe I should have been a little more careful in this battle, I think you can call it carelessness, but it didn't cause me much damage. The monster was weaker than I expected. It was clear at first glance, the creature was not the one I was looking for, I will have to continue. But Zelgrad should come up with something that doesn't depend so much on luck.

"Ha ha ha..." Either from disappointment or anticipation, a stingy laugh escaped me, stirring up the musty air in my helmet. Who also scared the hell out of the guard, with all his strength and all his diligence, who had been building a serious expression before. People are funny creatures... Was I the same?

As I stepped through the city gates, a glow enveloped me at the same hour.

Well, apparently now, those I don't want to talk about, and those I hate with all my heart, value their time too much and don't want to waste a second.

"How can you be immortal, but at the same time so efficient?" I asked myself a rhetorical question.

The glow began to wriggle and intensify, quickly enveloping my body, at the same time plunging my consciousness into sleep.

And so, I'm back in custody, and there are pompous white-winged freaks in front of me. With their polished feathers, white robes, and weapons designed more for the sake of demonstrating status and, of course, as jewelry, especially when it is in their skinny hands. In those skinny hands, which even with a strength superior to that of a dragon, it is not possible to break. To be more precise, they are the ones who throw me from one world to another, like a damn tool...

"Angels" - this word has been making me clench my teeth for many years, having already turned them into a sharp resemblance to the fangs of a predator.

In a white space that has no walls but has boundaries, they looked at me proudly. And then an image flashed in my mind.

A picture of the artifact he was looking for flew through his mind. And an incredibly quick explanation, like explaining the side effects in an advertisement for a popular product.

But I saw the general essence right in front of my eyes in the angel's open hand.

*Parry Katana*

*Destroy*

Rolling my eyes in disdain, I nodded, showing that everything was clear to me.

As long as I pretend to be completely obedient, I won't have any problems, and they are the best at creating them.

...And soon I will make them suffer.

But completely ignoring me, the angel snapped his fingers, turned his back, the white light flashed again, and here I am, safe and sound, on another "task". As they call these tortures, they are not really different from the previous ones. Madness is the endless repetition of the same action, isn't it? And I was stuck in the most boring type of tasks, taken as if from the side tasks of the game, "Give, bring, kill." That's my whole life.

Flexing my fingers on both hands and shaking myself slightly, I walked forward with a quick step.

And who am I? "Fantasy hero" sounds proud, and in the course of my story it was almost obvious. Well, how to say "hero" ... was a "suitable specimen".

You'll probably ask, "Why are you so sad, huh*********? You should have a harem, an imbecile, and fifteen tame dragons, if not all of them at once!" Ugh.

Firstly, such a life is not for me, it is too sugary, naive, boring and the like, it is not even interesting to live like that.

And secondly, even if I wanted to, I would not be given such an opportunity to rest.

These are certainly not carefree days, but still...

It all started with the fact that I was "called up".

It was a quiet winter evening.

Having bought components for my PC and driving an inexpensive car, I was driving home in anticipation.

I lived alone, I had to move for work.

Turning the steering wheel of the car I had saved up for not so long ago, I drove through dark streets illuminated by bright lanterns.

And finally, winding through the streets, he stopped in front of a traffic light. Music recorded on a USB stick was playing. So, a couple of songs from TV series, a few classics and the like. In general, everything that would keep me awake at the wheel.

The light turned green, and I was about to start driving, when the world around my car plunged into pitch darkness. A moment later, everything brightened up again, and in front of my transport appeared the same black abyss as the entire environment around me, changing just a second ago. The lanterns bent down and the asphalt crumbled, and some pedestrian followed the asphalt flying down, uttering a long scream.

My car was hanging into the abyss, and I quickly backed up. But luck has never pleased me. Therefore, tipping over, she flew into the abyss with me.

Tearing off my eyes, to my surprise, I saw not a black haze, no, a seemingly endless white space.

In front of me stood a tall white humanoid figure without a face, emitting a faint glow. The selection of the background is certainly so-so.

The figure was about to start talking, but I interrupted it with a gesture and looked around a little confused. When I tried to move away, I realized that the space is not unlimited, I would say that it is even very small. Such an otherworldly "studio", but the door or something similar could not be found.

The man coughed, drawing attention to himself. And I had to listen to him.

The figure is supposedly a "god", in whose words, there was not a drop of regret, "accidentally" killed me. Of course, he said it differently, but it sounded boring and stupidly stretched. Am I by any chance your thesis?

You see, he wanted to summon a hero. And besides, he says that I myself, as an "apology", can get into his world. The same for me, they do whatever they want. I've never been a believer, but it completely shook my idea of gods…

Besides, I've always been a skeptic and a bit of a pessimist, which made me visionary.

Maybe issekai is really written by the gods, and this "good Samaritan" decided to amuse his ego, and at the same time his readers?

Therefore, while I appeared before this bastard, hearing his words "choose a gift for yourself" without hesitation for a minute, I clearly replied: "Do not watch me and do not interfere in my life in any way."

Damn paparazzi.

The god obviously didn't like my decision, and he tried to dissuade me. He offered me all sorts of unusual powers, legendary weapons, but... no.

Definitely NOT. Absolutely NOT. Invariably NOT.

And with the words "So be it, we accept your wish, we'll see what happens", he sent me to my first "pseudo-reincarnation". Or rather, he simply threw me into the main church of some devout country. In my case, it is considered that I, as a "hero", was called by none other than the royal magician.

As you can understand, I was clearly not "heroic" to the taste of the "higher powers", since I was stuck in such a terrible job, slowly going crazy.

Well, let's get back to the topic.

I was weak then. But I am completely sure that medieval people are like walking to the moon, up to my intelligence, cunning and learning ability.

The first rule of fantasy is secrecy, deception and cunning, which will repeatedly save your life, besides destroying even more strangers.

So first of all, I need the magic of illusion, and preferably also alchemy!

I buzzed all my ears to my first magic teacher, who really didn't want to teach me "vile and dishonest techniques." And after a while, I was assigned a new master who possessed the spells and skills I was interested in.

Stop, this is not a magician! Bones in the form of a necklace, a look as if they died yesterday, large bags under the eyes, gray hair whiter than clouds and a staff in the form of a raven's paw, that's even the raven himself! Yes, this gray-haired grandfather is a real necromancer. Great, even better!

Although reluctantly, he accepted me as a student. And then he even saw the talent in me.

This was undoubtedly gratifying.

And then, my "life in another world" began.