Chapter 0:

Prelude: So I Got Hit And Woke Up In a Medieval Village

I Keep Dying In This Fantasy World But My New BFF is a Necromancer So It's Fine I Guess


PRELUDE 1.

It was launch day for Breath of Destiny VI, a game surely to be the game of the year according to every website worth its salt. An epic Japanese role playing game focusing on a hero who would save the world from the foul forces of the mysterious AdDeus- ahhh, nothing was quite as good as a high adventure and best of all, a game with plenty of cute girls!

That was the real reason he played JRPGs, to be honest. A scrappy lad of barely twenty two, living alone in a house paid for by his rich father, who was often off on business trips and only had enough time to visit for his son's birthday, our hero didn't have a job- he never needed one in his opinion. All that mattered was his harem of waifus.

Sweet, sweet anime girls were his lifeblood. Any girl that caught his interest? Their merchandise was his to own, all over his home. And Breath of Destiny had the best ones. Each game had a new set of girls for him to fall in love with.

It was beautiful, dammit!

So imagine his surprise when his copy of the newest game was here almost first thing that morning, right in his mail box. Such a sweet treat, such a sweet game, such sweet wives awaited him! He pushed his way through a messy living room to the door, opening it with such a violent excitement and force that you'd be forgiven if you thought he was going to rip it straight off.

Rushing, he looked down. Not a thing on the porch, so it had to be the mailbox. That damn thing- it was so far! So many yards, so many seconds he could spend on playing the game- goddammit! With a heavy sigh, he ran out in a sprint.

He arrived at the mailbox a few yards out of his drive way a moment later, eager to open his mailbox when-

Well. The delivery truck nudged him with just enough force to slam him face first into the mailbox. The sickening crack of bone flooded the world around him, his vision turning a blurred mess as he slumped over.

The delivery driver was quick, hopping out of her truck to help. “Oh crap!” She exclaimed, with panic in the eyes our hero couldn't see, what with the blurring and darkening hell scape his eyes had become. “Are you okay? Talk to me, du...”

The delivery driver's voice trailed off into a ringing cacophony of noiselessness. Was this what it was like to die? Your vision dark, your hearing gone, your senses falling one by one. He felt like he was floating on an everlasting cloud of nothingness.

Like a flying bird frozen in a snapshot, he just floated there in ringing darkness. The sense in his fingers were gone. He couldn't move his legs. Even his mouth wouldn't work as he felt each rasping breath rag on shorter and shorter for each second before with a pitiful whimper, he died.

It wasn't what he expected. The bright light wasn't there, nor was there a chorus of angels, or the laughter of Satan. All he heard was the raspy, masculine voice of an unknown figure whispering:

“Another player in this game would be fun.”

And with that, never again did Earth see our hero open his eyes again.

PRELUDE 2.

With a gasp, he awoke once more. The first thing he realized was that the piercing ringing in his ears was gone, and the lingering words from the mysterious voice. The fact he could see surprised him too- and by the looks of things, he awoke in a small medieval hut. The sort of thing you'd find in a RPG...

...Wait. Dying? Hearing a mysterious voice in your last breaths? Waking up in a medieval hut? Oh! Oh, it was suddenly all making sense!

“I'm in an isekai!” He proclaimed as he hopped to his feet, an almost hysterical grin on his pale face before bursting into laughter. He was a chosen one or some bullshit like that! He was going to save a fantasy world and roll in the babes!

Goddamn, he knew those hours upon hours spent watching anime and reading light novels would pay off some day! He might as well have spent his life preparing for this.

“What's it, now?” A soft voice asked as an old man, one with long white hair and wrinkled, suntanned skin, entered the room. “Ah, is that somethin' from the city, boy?”

Ah! The first NPC to be met in his epic quest! With a laugh, he rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess you could say that, gramps...”

“Well, whatever this 'ee-say-kai' is, it doesn't matter right now.” The village elder gave a small smile at our lad, “We were worried when we found you- had a real wallop on your head. Didn't think you'd wake up.”

A slight chuckle from the old man. “But it's always good when someone makes it out of the forest. What's your name, laddie?”

...Ah. The color drained from our hero's face as his wide grin faded and his eyes went wide.

He couldn't remember his own name.

“Well, this is gonna sound embarrassing, but... I don't, really, remember...?” Guess that's what head trauma does to ya, huh?

“Ahh, how unfortunate. Must've gotten amnesia, with that bonk on your head!” The old man's smile turned sympathetic, as he came over to give our hero a pat on the back. “Well, laddie, we'll take you to the village's mage, get things sorted out for you. Find out your class, your stats, all that- for all we know, we could've found the generation's biggest hero!”

The old man gave a laugh, which our hero felt he had to join in on too. So this world has classes, the boy thought. Stats too. Must be one of those JRPG worlds, huh?

“Come on, laddie, let's get you up and out of here.” The old man whistled for his grandson to come into the room, and when he arrived, said grandson was a man who's clothing screamed 'holy man' to our hero.

Must be a priest.

“Oh, how good it is to see you awake, sir.” The grandson gave a kind, earnest smile. “My name is Jakob- might you tell me you-”

The village elder cleared his throat to interject. “He's forgotten it, sonny. Poor lad. Think it's Ophelia's handiwork?”

Jakob frowned at the name, muttering a prayer under his voice before saying: “He was found in the forest... The wicked witch could've hexed him...”

Ophelia...? His eyebrow crowned upward. Sounded like somebody a hero would slay. Clearly this foul witch would be brought down by his shining blade of justice!

“Mm. We shouldn't keep talking about this, in front of him.” The village elder gestured softly towards our hero. Jakob gave a nod, before helping his guest out of bed.

“Let's get you to dinner, yeah?” Jakob gave a kind smile again.

He agreed with a nod, finally hearing his stomach roaring. “Yeah, that'd be nice...”

PRELUDE 3.

He made a big mistake at dinner. He asked who Ophelia was.

What moments ago was a merry festival of feast as the village sat around bonfires in the center of the village had suddenly taken a hushed darkness to it. Children asked their mothers how the stranger didn't know of the wicked witch of Blue Hills Forest. Husbands eyed their wives.

The village elder cleared his throat to break up the sound of whispers. “We mustn't forget that our guest here isn't from here, my friends.” He turned to look at our hero, who was sat beside him. “Are you sure you want to know about the witch?”

Our boy gave a nod. The old man of the village sighed.

“She was born long before even I was.” The old man started. “Ophelia used to be a sweet staple of the village for generations- a pretty thing that had been here longer than anyone could remember, and made sure everything ran smoothly with her magic.”

“Doesn't sound so bad...” He replied, muttering it under his breath.

“But, she... changed one day, maybe thirty years ago. She'd gone into the woods one day, and found... something.” He sighed, shaking his head. “We don't know what she found, but she built herself a cabin in those woods and summoned something. Something foul- something that seemed to make even the bravest men of the continent tremble.”

“Ahhh, sounds pretty bad...” Our hero nodded, rubbing his chin. “Maybe I'm here to take her out or something like that...”

The old man gave a hearty laugh, with most the village giving some sort of chuckle alongside him. “Ah, is that what you think?”

“I mean, why else would I be here?” He gave a laugh, arrogant and self-serving as he always did whenever he had to 'prove' himself. After all, his father- and Lady Luck- had always made sure he could do anything he damn well pleased. That luck must have carried over, and hey, maybe the witch will drop some massive amounts of gold? “You found me in the forest, so I must've gotten through it somehow.”

The village elder's laughter ended quickly as his face took a grave look, eyes squinting as he scowled at the boy sitting next to him. “Aye, you did, but luck is mercurial. The witch could've easily just passed you for being too weak of a foe, lad. Don't get yourself killed- we don't even know your clas-”

“Yeah, but like you said earlier- I could be the world's greatest hero!” Another cackling, arrogant laugh that seemed to worsen the village elder's mood. The old man mumbled something under his breath, pushing himself up with his staff and wandering towards a particular someone in the crowd around them. “What? You said it earlier!”

The elder stopped at a woman with raven black hair, who wore a silvery outfit- something that obviously was too expensive for a mere serf like the rest the village. The village elder whispered into the woman's ear, to low for anyone else to hear. She nodded curtly, rising and sliding a deck of cards out of a long sleeve on her gown. The crowd around her parted slightly, leaving an open circle around the woman. It didn't take much to put two and two together- she was clearly the village mage.

“Come here.” The village elder's kindly, warm tone was replaced by one that was cold and demanding, motioning for our hero to step forward. “We'll find your class, boy.”

“Eh?” He rose, wandering over with a mild hesitation that betrayed his fear. Scenes like this- where the jovial people you meet in the first town, the friendly elder, all turned negative... those were always flags that a tragedy was going to happen.

Dammit.

He sat across from the village's mage, who shuffled the deck of cards and began laying out what she drew, muttering incantations under her breath. Above each card, a flicker of light popped into existence- some brighter than others, others fading into darkness quicker than they even appeared.

The crowd around him whispered things to each other, things our lad couldn't hear but sounded dreadful. Hopeless. Disparaging.

The sorta thing that leads to a hopeful protagonist's gruesome death by the hands of the first villain of the story. He watched as the spark of light above the cards faded away as the woman slowly collected each card and stacked them back into their deck.

The mage spoke a moment later: “He's a Serf.”

Before our boy's eyes appeared the stats he had in his new life.

NAME: ???
LEVEL: 1
ATTACK: 2
DEFENSE: 1
RESISTANCE: 0
MAGIC: 0
FAITH: 3
CHARISMA: 2
INTELLIGENCE: 4
ELEMENTAL AFFINITY: EARTH
PERFECT CLASS: SERF

He didn't really understand these stats, but he did understand the “Perfect Class”. A serf.

The village elder sighed, shaking his head. “All right then. He'd die trying.” He looked over at the boy, but whatever he said didn't reach our heroes ears. The same deafening ringing filled his ears once more as he looked on aimlessly.

Serf? A SERF? What did I do to deserve this? That voice said I'd be another player- is that what I'm supposed to play as? Some whelp in a village held hostage by a witch?! Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit! This isn't how it works! I'm supposed to be the hero of this world, I'm supposed to be OP!

“-doesn't matter anyway, lad, you'll...” The village elder looked up as our hero shot up, turning his back to the crowd. The elder's eyes went wide as he saw him break into a sprint. “Lad, you'll die- you were lucky once, don't try again!”

“I don't fucking care!” He shouted back as he sprinted through the crowd, each face blurring and swimming by. “I'll show you! I'll show you all!”

Jakob sighed as he watched our hero run through the village and into the forest laying on the edge of it all. “Ah, another goner, huh, Grandfather?”

“Happens to every damned one we find.” The elder took a deep breath through his nostrils, nose flaring as he did. “We'll send a search party for the corpse in the morning.”

And with that, never again did this village see our hero alive again.

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