The Life of a Necromancer as a Swashbuckler

Chapter 2: First Steps in the Martial Arts World of Another Realm

“Where am I?” By the time I came to my senses, two storytellers were standing before me, recounting tales of heroes with great fervor. “Sir,” asked one of the storytellers—a man wearing a silk headscarf who looked somewhat mature—with a smile, “You were listening so intently just now; did something come to mind?” “Huh?” I’m not one who likes being asked questions, especially out of the blue. “No,” I muttered. Seeing that I had no interest in engaging him, the storyteller went back to his tale. After dealing with the storyteller, I suddenly felt a bit dizzy. I looked around at the people nearby—I didn’t recognize a single one of them, and the surroundings were completely unfamiliar. “Where am I? Who am I? What is this place?” Countless questions suddenly flooded my mind. I felt a sharp headache coming on. Looking around, I realized that it wasn’t just the surroundings that were unfamiliar—it was myself. I couldn’t remember who I was or where I was at all. In fact, it felt as though I’d been plucked into this world in the blink of an eye, as if my soul had suddenly been drawn into this body before me, while all my previous memories had been erased. “Could this be a soul-capturing spell?” I suddenly grew wary. Looking around, the surroundings seemed quite peaceful; no one seemed to notice anything unusual about me, and the atmosphere was lively. A crowd of villagers—men, women, and children of all ages—were listening intently as two storytellers recounted a tale, seemingly the story of a hero. It appeared I was now in a village square, where two storytellers on a raised platform were narrating the tale. Just moments ago, this body had been listening with great enthusiasm—until “I” suddenly awoke, or perhaps had my soul extracted and this body taken over. Aside from that, everything seemed perfectly normal. I looked at the body I’d taken over. It was dressed in blue-green clothes—not luxurious, but very comfortable to wear. The build was on the slender side, and I felt quite at ease. Without a mirror, I couldn’t see my own appearance, but I felt good about myself. In any case, I knew for certain that this wasn’t my original body; my soul had been transferred. I looked around at the people nearby. Ahead of me was a group of villagers: a brother and sister watching the commotion, a porter, and several elderly people. To my right, a group of burly young men surrounded a young man who looked like a young master. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I stood on the very outer edge of the crowd, with no one beside me, and no one recognized me. It seemed I was just a passerby there to watch the spectacle—nothing unusual about that. Just as I was letting my guard down—wait, something’s wrong! To my left and behind me, I sensed a powerful aura. Something’s up behind me! I cautiously turned my head to look behind me. It turned out to be a young person wielding a long sword—with delicate, handsome features, almost unnaturally attractive for a man. Glancing at the slight curve of their chest, I realized it was a woman dressed as a man. She had a slender figure and held the sword in her left hand; clearly, she was no ordinary person. She hadn’t noticed me, though, and was still listening to the story with rapt attention. As I watched her, I noticed another figure standing faintly beneath a small tree in the distance. Their aura was extremely well-concealed—if you didn’t look closely, you’d think no one was there. Long black hair obscured their features, and they held a black longsword that radiated an “keep out” aura. It seemed as though they were staring at the woman in men’s clothing, though their intentions were unclear. After surveying my surroundings, I felt it was time to leave. This place felt unusual, and besides, my primary mission right now wasn’t to listen to stories, but to figure out who I was, where I was, and why I was here. Before I could even move, I suddenly heard a shout from the distance: “Run for your lives! The bandits are coming!” What? Bandits? What are bandits? I was still processing this when I saw the crowd in front of me suddenly scatter in an instant—it seemed as if, in the blink of an eye, everyone had vanished. In the distance, at the southern village entrance, thick plumes of smoke rose continuously, and the sound of horse hooves grew louder and closer. Whatever “bandits” were, I’d better run first. It would be ridiculous to die right after being reborn. Since I didn’t know the way anyway, I spotted a small path and ran down it. I ran along the path and soon found myself in a field. Feeling that no one was chasing me, I slowly came to a stop. Suddenly, I heard a woman’s voice screaming from the distance, “Help! Someone, please come quick!” Someone was in danger! I hesitated for a split second, but saving someone was the priority. As if by instinct, I blurted out, “Someone’s here! Who dares to make a move?” After shouting, I ran toward the direction of the cries for help. When I got there, I saw a group of men dressed like bandits surrounding a girl, seemingly trying to grab her. There were four of them, each wielding a steel knife, forming a semicircle around her. The girl was unarmed, but she appeared to know martial arts; the four bandits seemed somewhat afraid and didn’t dare to get close. The girl was delicate and pretty, with clear, fine features; she had a slender figure and a fresh, lively appearance—clearly a beauty. The two sides were locked in a standoff. “Stop!” I roared, causing both the bandits and the girl to turn and look at me simultaneously. One of them—who appeared to be the leader—asked menacingly, “Who are you? Where did you come from? Are you looking to die?” “Who I am doesn’t matter—let that girl go!” I shouted back. “To dare to abduct an innocent woman in broad daylight—you’ve got some nerve!” “Brother, why waste your breath on him?” another man, who looked like a low-ranking henchman, turned and strode toward me with a knife in hand. “You’re asking for it!” “Young Master, watch out!” the beautiful woman cried out in warning. Seeing him coming at me with a knife, I felt a little scared, but for some reason, beyond the fear, my blood began to boil—I felt an urge to tear him to pieces. “He’s asking for it,” my subconscious told me. “Are you tired of living, kid?” the henchman snarled as he swung his blade down toward my head with a whistling rush of wind. Yet I had no intention of dodging; instead, I charged forward, throwing myself into his arms, and with all my might, tore outward against his chest. “Die!” I roared. With that, the henchman’s body jerked backward and flew away, his body marked with eight deep gashes. At that moment, both the bandit and I froze. The bandit was stunned because he hadn’t expected me to fight back—and so fiercely at that. I was stunned because I’d expected to tear him in half, but now I saw that it was merely superficial wounds—it hadn’t done any real damage. I looked down at my hands—they hurt so much. This body was useless; it had no strength, and my moves lacked any real power! The bandits were startled at first, but upon closer inspection, they saw it was just a few scratches—nothing serious. “This guy doesn’t know martial arts! He’s never trained! He just looks scary!” one of the henchmen shouted. They finally snapped out of it. “Let’s finish him off!” Three henchmen charged at me with their knives raised. I felt like I was done for. “Stop!” Just as I was facing a hopeless situation with no way out, there was a rustling in the trees, followed by a loud shout. As the voice rang out, a figure descended from the tree above my head and stood in front of me, blocking my path.