My Life As A Mercenary In A Fantasy World

The first thing I noticed was the silence—not the comfortable kind, but the heavy, unnerving kind that made every sound feel louder. My breathing was uneven and shallow. The rustle of leaves overhead. The faint babble of the stream nearby. Everything seemed amplified, as if the world itself was listening.

I was alive. That much I knew.

My legs trembled as I stood, my body aching from the impact of... whatever that was. I glanced around, taking in the towering trees and the glowing leaves above. The air smelled clean, almost too clean, like a forest untouched by time or pollution.

It was beautiful, but it didn't feel safe.

"This is real," I murmured to myself. My voice sounded small, almost swallowed by the vastness of the place. "This is... actually happening."

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady my nerves. My mind raced with questions: Where was I? What kind of dangers existed here? What did I need to survive?

Then I remembered the ring.

The shopkeeper had told me it would carry the essentials. With shaking hands, I tapped the simple silver band on my finger. The air shimmered faintly, and a small assortment of items appeared before me, hovering like a hologram.

Spatial Ring (★★★★):

Water pouch

Firestarter kit

Food capsules (x10)

Basic knife

Cloth blanket

Rope bundle

Tongue of The Traveler (★★★)

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"Not bad," I muttered, though my voice betrayed a flicker of doubt. "Could be worse."

The knife caught my attention first. It was small—too small to feel like a real weapon—but it was better than nothing. I grabbed it, testing its weight. The blade was sharp enough, but it wasn't exactly made for combat. More like... peeling fruit.

Still, it was something.

"What is this "Tongue of The Traveler?" it got three stars on it" I muttered, wondering the function of the item.

The translucent screen changed into the item description

[- Tongue of the Traveler -]

-Rank: ★★★

-Creator: The Polyglot Guild of Eldoria

-Description: A small silver coin inscribed with symbols of communication. When held, it grants the user the ability to understand and speak any language for a limited time (up to 24 hours). The coin's power doesn't just translate words; it grants an intuitive understanding of the culture and nuances behind the language. The user can charge it under the sunlight. Note: Can be charged passively; we recommend the user to hang it on his neck or somewhere it can get the maximum amount of sunlight.

Note: Requires 3 mana to activate.

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"What's this? Mana? Great," I said sarcastically.

 I knew it wasn't that simple; I don't even know if I have mana on me. Might as well keep this for now; I might obtain mana in the future.

I slung the water pouch over my shoulder and pocketed a few of the food capsules. The firestarter kit went into the other pocket, and I looped the rope bundle around my waist. The blanket stayed in the ring for now—I'd deal with sleeping arrangements later.

Step one: supplies. Check.

Step two: figure out where the hell I am.

The stream seemed like a good place to start. If I followed it, it might lead me to something useful—civilization, food, shelter. Or, at the very least, it would give me a sense of direction.

I crouched by the water, dipping my fingers into its surface. It was cold, startlingly so, but the clarity was mesmerizing. I caught my reflection in the ripples—messy black hair, tired blue eyes, square glasses, and the faint shadow of a bruise on my cheek from the landing. I am also still wearing my business suit, an expensive one at that since I just negotiated with a big company like Donovan.

"You've had worse days," I told my reflection.

But not by much.

I stood, brushing dirt off my pants, and started walking. The stream wound through the forest like a silver ribbon, its gentle flow the only sound in the oppressive quiet. The trees stretched endlessly in every direction, their glowing leaves casting faint green light on the forest floor.

Unbeknownst to me, a pair of glowing yellow eyes observed my every move from the shadows. Then another. And another. A pack of wolves, their sleek forms blending seamlessly with the dim forest, padded silently after me. Their movements were synchronized, a deadly grace honed by instinct and years of survival. The largest among them, a silver-furred alpha with a scar slashing across its eye, sniffed the air, its gaze locked onto me.

"What's this? I feel unease...something is wrong." I muttered under my breath, my eyes scanning the surrounding forest.

A twig snapped behind me.

I froze. My heart thudded loudly as my eyes darted toward the sound. Slowly, I stood up, gripping the knife tightly. The silence was deafening now, the forest seemingly holding its breath.

A low growl echoed through the trees, followed by another. My breath hitched as I turned around. Emerging from the shadows were the wolves—six of them. Their sleek forms circled me, their movements predatory and deliberate. The silver-furred alpha stepped forward, baring its sharp teeth, a low, menacing growl rumbling from its throat.

My pulse quickened. I backed toward the stream, my mind racing. "DAMN IT, this soon? Weapon, weapon, I need a weapon!!!" rummaging through my ring, I found that I only have the basic knife and its small, pitifully small compared to the size of these wolves.

DAMN IT, I AM NOT DYING HERE!

My breath hitched as I got a better look at the wolves. These weren't ordinary animals. Each one was massive, easily the size of a grown man. Their hulking forms moved with an unsettling grace, muscles rippling under fur that shimmered faintly in the dim forest light. The alpha stood taller than the rest, its head reaching my head even on all fours. Its paws were as large as dinner plates, each step leaving deep impressions in the soft forest floor.

Their fangs glinted like polished daggers, built for tearing through flesh. Claws as sharp as blades clicked softly against the ground as they circled, their glowing amber eyes fixated on me with unnerving intelligence. These weren't just predators—they were hunters of the highest order, perfectly adapted to bring down prey much larger and more dangerous than themselves.

The alpha's growl deepened, its broad shoulders shifting as it crouched, ready to pounce. The sheer size of it made my basic knife feel like a toothpick in my trembling hand. I swallowed hard, realizing I wasn't up against ordinary wolves but something far more terrifying—creatures of a world that didn't play by the rules he knew. I glanced around frantically, searching for anything that could tip the scales in my favor. My gaze landed on the firestarter kit in my ring.

"Fire! Wolves fear fire!" I muttered through gritted teeth. Without hesitation, I tapped the ring and pulled the kit out, my fingers fumbling as I struck the flint against the steel. Sparks flew, and I quickly gathered nearby dried leaves and twigs, blowing softly to coax a flame to life.

The wolves hesitated, their predatory circling slowing as the flickering light grew. I fed the small flame, fanning it until it crackled and danced, casting long shadows across the forest. The silver-furred alpha snarled, its ears flattening against its skull as it stopped in its tracks.

I allowed myself a moment of hope. The fire worked—or so it seemed.

But my victory was short-lived. A flash of movement from my blind spot sent my heart plummeting. Before I could react, a weight slammed into my back, knocking me to the ground. A searing pain tore through my left side as sharp teeth sank into my flesh.

I screamed, my voice raw and desperate, as the wolf dragged me a few inches before releasing its grip. Blood poured from the wound, staining my shirt and pooling on the ground. I twisted frantically, kicking out with all my strength, catching the wolf in the chest and forcing it to retreat momentarily.

The other wolves didn't hesitate. They advanced, emboldened by their packmate's success. I swung the knife wildly, managing to nick one of the wolves on its snout. It yelped and fell back, but the others closed in, their glowing eyes filled with a cold, predatory hunger.

My vision blurred as the blood loss sapped my strength. Every movement sent fresh waves of agony through my side. I clutched at the wound with one hand, trying in vain to stem the bleeding while swinging the knife with the other.

"This can't… be it," I gasped, my voice barely audible over the growls and snarls surrounding me. My mind screamed at me to survive, but my body was failing me.

The wolves lunged again, and my world tilted as I was overwhelmed. Teeth and claws tore at me mercilessly. The pain was unbearable, but worse was the realization dawning in my mind: I am dying.

"Alright, since you all want my life, then let's die together!!"

I tapped my ring and took the lantern oil, with my remaining strength, I threw it to the fire in front of me, creating a small scale explosion, I managed to harm 4 of them but it's not enough.

I guess I'm really dying, tough bastards.

 Female Voice: "Lir'thal, hara en'tir vharin!" (Translation: "Uncle, there is someone there!")

Masculine Voice: "Thari en'laes, sil'aen tolë!" (Translation: "Talk less, shoot more.")

Female Voice: "Ahm... elaë tolë!" (Translation: "Uhm... okay!")

A burst of radiant energy illuminated the clearing, scattering the wolves. Turning what's left of them into blood mist, before my consciousness slipped away, I saw the wolves that got left behind turned into purple smoke resembling wolf figures. Then it seemed to fly towards my body.

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Young Female Voice: "Ith'laer, thae en'var shiel..."

(Translation: "He's not waking up, it's been a week...")

Slightly Mature Female Voice: "Shaera en'thalan, ven'mir tolë dae. Shae'an tolë vael en'mil norë ai ara thalinaë raë shael... shaer vhiran, shaer lir'eri naë shael vhen."

(Translation: "That's normal, he lost too much blood. We have no healing potions or magicians skilled in healing magic nearby… poor boy, he looks so young.")

Older Female Voice: "Shael'ves, orëlaë shael en'harin. Var en'laes thae vhir tolë araën, lir'shilë tolë en'thala."

(Translation: "You two, stop being noisy. Leave him to me and return to your duties.")

Older Female Voice (to herself): "Shari... naë'ver lir'thalan vhirë norë, laren'vhir shaer norë ai shael tolanë. Var lir tolë ai En'lor aë'mir? Shael lir'farë ai shië... tolë naë ral lir'silë laë, farë naë tirë... aen shaë ai En'arë, aën shaë thae norë thaë."

(Translation: "Pale and clear skin, black hair and sky blue eyes, hands without calluses yet a well-built body. Is he the son of a noble family? Why is he in the middle of the Ancient Forest? His clothing is strange… like those of royalty, but simpler.")

noisy, urgh, let me sleep for another hour...

I heard noises, it seems to be multiple women, but I can't recognize their language. I opened my eyes slowly.

Older Lady: "Araëv lir'ael, tirha tolë."

(Translation: "You are finally awake, come, drink this water.")

I saw three women, one is an old lady with a hunched back, dressed in a brown silky robe and has a strange tattoo on her face, she holds a small wooden cup in her hand, steam rising from its contents.

The other is a mature lady with brown skin and brown eyes, dressed like a traditional Nordic woman, her mature figure cannot be hidden by her clothes.

The last one is a little girl around 7 or 8 years old, she has black hair and brown eyes, she wears the same clothes as the mature lady, probably her mother.

Does she want me to drink this? I stared at her confused.

"Where…" I croaked, my voice hoarse. I tried again. "Where am I?"

The three women exchanged glances, clearly not understanding my words. The little girl tilted her head, whispering something to the mature woman.

Young Girl: "Shael'nir tolë ai norë?"

(Translation: "What is he saying?")

The older lady sighed, setting the cup down beside me. She spoke again, her tone softer this time.

Older Lady: "Shalë tolë ai shaë norë. Tirha tolë; lir'farë shaë en'larin."

(Translation: "Don't strain yourself. Drink this; it will help you recover.")

I hesitated, then slowly reached for the cup. The steam carried a faint herbal scent—earthy, calming. My hand trembled slightly as I lifted it to my lips.

No harm in trying, right?

The liquid was warm, bitter, but oddly refreshing. Almost immediately, a soothing sensation spread through my body.

The older lady gave a slight nod of approval before turning to the others. Their language flowed between them like a melody I couldn't understand.

"My ring...do you guys know where it is?" I gestured my right index finger to my left index finger and circled around it, gesturing to a ring.

The older lady's sharp gaze softened as she rose to her full, albeit hunched, height. She turned to the other two women, speaking in their melodic tongue, her voice commanding yet gentle.

Older Lady: "Shael'en varë en'silë tolë ai lir. Shaë ai norë en'farë ai lir farin shaelë, var'ven ai shaë tolë."

(Translation: "His belongings are stored safely. The ring he wanted is among them in the drawer.")

The mature woman nodded and moved toward a small, roughly carved wooden cabinet at the edge of the room. She opened one of its drawers, sifting through its contents.

Meanwhile, the young girl's curious gaze lingered on me. Her cheeks flushed slightly as her eyes darted over my body, but her expression quickly shifted to one of pity.

They're staring at the scars…

My body was a mess. Angry, jagged scars stretched across my chest and arms—bite marks left by wolves. My left leg was practically lifeless, swollen and discolored where their teeth had sunk in. Burn marks marred the right side of my torso, remnants of the fire I'd barely escaped. Even the faintest movements sent jolts of pain coursing through me.

At least I'm alive… though barely.

The mature woman returned, holding a simple ring between her fingers. Its silver band gleamed faintly in the dim light of the room, and the sight of it sent a wave of relief coursing through me.

Mature Woman: "Shael farë. Ai lir tolë shaë ai ven?"

(Translation: "Here it is. Is this what he seeks?")

She crouched beside me, holding the ring out in her palm. I reached for it instinctively, my fingers trembling as they closed around the familiar weight.

"Yes," I rasped, my voice still hoarse. "Thank you…"

The women exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from curiosity to quiet amusement.

The young girl whispered something, her voice barely audible.

Young Girl: "Shael tolë ai en'miranë shaelë farë… aën shaë norë tolë ai silë var?"

(Translation: "He really wanted that ring… Do you think it's magical?")

The older lady shushed her gently, her gaze returning to me.

Older Lady: "Tirlae norë shaë, lir'en var ai shaë farë."

(Translation: "Rest now, and you are safe here.")

I held the ring tightly, its smooth surface grounding me in this strange, surreal situation. A soft warmth pulsed from the ring, almost as if it were responding to my touch.

Let's see if it still works.

I turned the ring on my finger, tapping its surface with my thumb. Instantly, the air shimmered around my hand, and a small silver object materialized, spinning slowly before dropping into my palm.

The women gasped, their voices a chorus of astonishment.

The object was a small silver coin, its surface inscribed with intricate symbols of communication. A faint glow danced across the carvings, radiating a quiet power. Its information displayed inside my head as it bound to me now. It's none other than the [-Tongue of the Traveler-], but I don't have any mana and have no idea how to use it.

["Focus your mind on the coin."] The voice was masculine, smooth, steady, and somehow louder than it should have been. It felt close, as though someone was whispering in my ear.

"Huh?! Who is it?!" I turned my head to find the source of the voice, yet I was unable to locate them.

["I am Archmage Solastra of Vothar, creator of the Portalstone you used to cross worlds..."] The voice finally replied.