He couldn't help but pause for a moment, instinctively reaching for his chest. But a sharp pain interrupted his movement, the young man cried out and grimaced; the wound was his, and the blood was his...
But what is this place? He vaguely recognized the style of this room, the main hall on the first floor, with the corridor on the second floor leading to various rooms; guestroom, kitchen, and storage room were on the lower level. Right, this was the Southern architectural style of Erune, and not one that ordinary civilians could afford to live in—though a bit old, it could be determined that the original owner of this room had some status.
South of Erune, Sophie couldn't help but feel a bit dazed.
How long ago was that memory? The mountains of Yu Song, the sound of bagpipes in the border town of Buqi, as soothing as a dream of yesteryears. But nowadays, isn't that Madara's territory? He recalled that Erune had fallen long ago, yes, during the Third Black Rose War.
"How did I end up here!"
"Wait..."
"Buqi... Buqi." Sophie repeatedly muttered this place name.
Right, he remembered now.
He was Brand, born in Brags. He had half Cardilego blood, inherited from his mother, but this noble lineage did not make him any more distinguished. His father was only a commoner, even though his grandfather had participated in the November War and received the Candlelight Medal, essentially just a knightly family of past radiance.
No!
A sense of alarm surged in Sophie's heart. What kind of nonsense was this? No, he was Sophie, a citizen of the People's Republic of China.
But a voice immediately echoed in his mind—
"You are Sophie, but you are also Brand."
A sudden chill of fear crawled up Sophie's spine. He held his breath, suddenly realizing that his memories seemed to have something added. It was the memories of that young man named Brand, flooding into his thoughts like a tide, or like an uninvited stranger barging in.
——Sophie's breathing became rapid, his pupils dilated. He immediately recalled that despairing and heart-pounding sword, and that terrifying ghastly white bone skeleton.
He struggled to break free from this frightening scene, but as the memories solidified, he became more exhausted. His brain throbbed painfully, and his forehead was drenched in sweat.
Ah, suddenly it came to him how he had arrived here—it was really quite a battle, the fierce clash between the Church Knights Country Grace and Madara, surrounded and in a desperate situation. He remembered his character had died at the hands of a Corpse Witch.
After the dazzling green light of the disintegration ray, the world fell into darkness...
It was supposed to be just part of the game settings; death should only last twelve hours. But can someone explain why a normal death in the game led him here?
This world——
His mind was in turmoil. If there was one word to describe the thought behind his chaotic reasoning, that would be—absurd.
Absurd!
He now understood what an absurd thing had happened to him, he had crossed over!
His soul had crossed into this world, inhabiting the body of a deceased named Brand!
No, he should say they had merged into one.
Sophie tightly gripped the floor, his knuckles feeling numb. He looked at his hand, it was somewhat slender, the skin pale to an unhealthy extent. Though he had mentally prepared himself, he couldn't help but be startled. He was a citizen of the People's Republic of China, Han, belonging to the Mongolian Race, his skin should reflect a healthy pale yellow, but even if the game character had some adjustments, it shouldn't look like this.
His heart pounded, utterly lost. He could say he possessed all the memories from the original owner's brief nineteen years of life, yet from another perspective, he knew nothing about the challenges he faced.
Perhaps from a soul standpoint, he could feel everything that the young man named Brand thought—
Ideals, obsessions; what he loved, what he hated.
It was as if he had relived the nineteen-year journey after a rebirth. Everything the other person had was now his, as if they were originally one entity. But the weaving of two long dreams together still left him feeling somewhat disoriented.
"I am Sophie."
"But also Brand."
A sense of exhaustion welled up from the deepest part of Sophie's mind, spreading throughout his body. He finally let out a long sigh, gradually calming down.
Well, since he was here, he might as well adapt to it.
Sophie couldn't help but shake his head, then looked at his hand again: "Still, just this bit of strength, and he dared to call himself the best in swordsmanship…" He thought of Brand, couldn't help but smile self-deprecatingly, unexpectedly feeling a bit lighter, good, he had no attachment to the world he left behind anyway.
Yet a bolt of lightning tore through the darkness, suddenly Sophie felt this might be another opportunity granted by the heavens. This thought, once ignited, spread uncontrollably within his heart.
Because he remembered something else—
No mistake, Erune. That was a nation already fallen in the game, and the Flowers and Summer Leaves Year in Brand's memory, that was the First Epoch's 375th year, while game history had progressed to: the Second Epoch, 44th year! It was as if someone suddenly realized they had become a prophet with foreknowledge, a terrifying shiver swept over Sophie's whole body.
Yes.
Here, no one was more familiar with everything happening and about to happen in this world than him.
In his past life, he was mediocre, hiding in the game to escape reality. But in this life, how would he honor his second chance at life?
Sophie couldn't help but feel a bit dazed.
This was the Flowers and Summer Leaves Year, the year the First Black Rose War began. Erune was defeated miserably in this war, but it also marked the start of its resurgence.
He happened to be an eyewitness to this war. He remembered the time he first entered the game world, the nation he chose was Erune; he was a complete newbie, growing amidst such a war.
The war began with Erune's utter defeat, until the arrival of the Buges Mountain Corps gradually improved the situation. Sophie had vivid memories of that bloody war; he had acted with local Guard Teams, but the survivors were less than one out of ten.
He was just an ordinary person, both in the previous and this life. Brand's swordsmanship was nothing; in the early days of this war, Madara's surprise attack was textbook classic, swift and ruthless, silent and unnoticed. By the time the ancient Kingdom reacted, the garrison in this area had already suffered a catastrophe.
On this day, Brand must have encountered Madara's Scouts; Sophie suddenly felt a chill rising up his spine, only survival could fulfill ambitions.
He understood he must save himself, first to find tools to stop the bleeding. The young man struggled to stand, grasping the railing on the corridor side. Then he saw the layout of this room, just as he envisioned, the Southern architectural style of Erune felt so familiar—because he spent some of his most unforgettable time here.
"Erune, I am back again—" Sophie couldn't help but softly recite.