Reincarnated as the Chosen One in My All-Time Favorite Fantasy Novel: I - The Hopping Hare

The next thing Kenichi knew, he was sitting in a dim room with wooden walls. He was surrounded by crates and barrels, and a man with wild hair the color of autumnal leaves and a beard to match was peering at him.

He felt like he had gone through a meat grinder. Every bone, every muscle, every joint and ligament ached.

“So, this is the shooting star,” said a deep voice from the corner. Kenichi rubbed his head and followed the sound of the voice. A large, muscular man hunched in the corner. Across his forearms were massive scars that had healed into angry red crescent moons.

“Yes,” said the red-bearded man. “I'm surprised we were able to capture him. This is quite the tricky spell.”

A small creature with wings buzzing like a hummingbird flitted around Kenichi's head. “He doesn't look like much,” said a voice that sounded like a bell ringing in the middle of a rainbow.

The red-haired man held out his hand. “Can you stand?” he said.

Kenichi took the man's hand. “I think so,” he said, letting the man pull him to his feet.

“Better yet,” said a gruff voice. “Can you fight?” A dwarf held a sword--Drowsysword--offering it to Kenichi.

Kenichi took the blade. The sleepy eye blinked. “I think so,” he said.

“He's obviously had a head trauma,” said another voice, light as the breeze. An elf crouched on the edge of one of the barrels, his hair flowing and his eyes twinkling. “He keeps repeating himself.”

The dwarf coughed in a way that said that he greatly disliked the elf.

“Still,” said a small creature, no larger than a child. “We're at our wits end. Any blade to help sever the darkness is better than none.”

“Always the pragmatic one, Pikku,” said the red-bearded man.

“Wait,” said Kenichi. He wobbled a bit, but used Drowsysword to steady himself. “Pikku?” He looked from one to the other gathered in the room around him. “And you're Oren,” he said to the muscular man filling the corner. “And Korrael,” he said, pointing at the flitting fairy. “And Kofi and Ti,” pointing to the dwarf and elf in turn. “And you must be Momiji, the sage.”

“Indeed,” said the red-bearded man. “And what may we call you, Hero from the Shooting Star?”

Kenichi shook his head, disbelieving what had happened. These people around him, they were the characters from The Eternal Blade of Tenrai. They were all here, except for… “Say,” he said, “where's Ash?”

“Here,” said a grim figure, a shadow in the doorway. “And my arrival is of great import, as the Kugonin are upon us.”

“Already?” said Pikku.

The figure nodded. “We must evacuate the town, get everybody to safety.”

Kenichi slowly raised Drowsysword into the air. It hummed with a tired sound. “Can't we fight them?” he said.

Ash frowned. “Fight a creature of darkness? A shadow man of bitterest gloom? Even Death avoids collecting his toll with these creatures, for what he makes up with in their wake.”

Kenichi laughed. “Sorry,” he said. “But I've read this story so many times. I've imagined this very moment. In fact, when I was younger, I even wrote a short story about what I would do differently to save the day.”

“Head trauma,” said the elf.

Momiji held up a wrinkled hand. “No, Tivareth, I believe he may have some secret knowledge.” He looked directly at Kenichi, his eyes, the same color as his beard and hair, serious. “Do you think you can best some of the greatest foes this world has ever seen?”

Kenichi nodded. “Yes,” he said. “If I'm not mistaken, there are four Kugonin coming: Gokishi, Rokukishi, Shichikishi, and Hachikishi.”

“He knows their names?” said Kofi in surprise.

“Yeah,” said Kenichi. “And their weaknesses. Come one. This will be easy work.” He stepped past the small crowd and out through the room. He stopped once he got to the door. He had been in the store room of the Hopping Hare! This was the inn where all the members of the Terai Party first met. He ran his hands over the wood planks of the walls, took in the smell of cedar and ale and roasted meat and burning logs. “Wow,” he said.

Ash placed a firm hand around his arm. “It is a fool's errand to try to slay but one, yet you claim you can defeat all four?”

Kenichi looked back at the shadowy hunter. “You bet your crown, Cael,” he said with a wink.

Ash released his grip on Kenichi, shock reaching his eyes for only a moment before he regained his composure and his stony expression. He drew his own sword, a blade magnificent enough to match with Drowsysword. “Then lead on, Hero of the Shooting Star, and let us not tarry away our lives on petty debate.”

Kenichi grinned. He loved the way Rowyn Ashthorn talked in the book. He wondered though why it wasn't immediately obvious to everybody that met him that he wasn't just some mysterious well-spoken hunter, but the high-born king-in-exile of Velemir, Caelric.

Ash pressed up close to him. “Please, for all of our sakes, though, keep your knowledge to yourself. It may have unintended consequences.”

Kenichi nodded, then together, the two stepped out into the early evening. In the distance were screams and sounds of panic. “It appears they have come to meet us,” said Ash. “Let us not disappoint them.”

They charged off toward the sound, the other members of the Tenrai Party at their heels.

In a clearing, four cloaked figures astride four dark horses--Night Stallions--surveyed the chaos their arrival had caused. One looked over as Kenichi and Ash stepped into the clearing.

“They come at us with sticks of steel,” he said, his voice harsh and brittle, like a rusty blade. “They shall make excellent trophies.”

“I claim the one with the jewel on his hilt,” said another.

“You can have it if you can take it from me, Rokukishi,” Kenichi said.

The cloaked figure froze. He obviously wasn't used to being addressed by his name. He snapped out of it, hopped off his horse, and pulled free his weapon, a wicked mace, each prong jagged, designed to cause as much pain and suffering before ending its target's life.

“Don't be a fool just to impress me,” Ash said in a low murmur.

Kenichi pointed his sword at the still-mounted figures in turn. “That one has a weak spot on his foot. That one has a glass jaw. That one is afraid of fire.” Then he looked at the one before him. “And this one has his heart in the wrong place.”

He stepped away from Ash and up toward Rokukishi. “You will be the first to die by my blade,” he said, smiling, trying hard to conceal his excitement at being a character in his favorite book.

In the distance, several stone creatures lumbered through the city, possibly Korrael's stone workers helping to evacuate the city. At least the casualties would be minimal, but at least in this version, it wouldn't be due to them running away. They would be heroes from the start.

“We shall see if your words have merit, mortal,” said Rokukishi.

“Then open your eyes,” Kenichi said. He was having so much fun!

The Kugonin raised his mace. Ash and the other Kugonin stood by, watching, silently. They all held their breaths, waiting to see if this Hero of the Shooting Star was a fool or not.

The mace came down, and Kenichi deflected it. He spun, elbowed the Kugonin in the chest, then followed through with a sweeping kick, knocking his feet out from under him. The cloaked figure lay on the ground, stunned.

“What?” he said, unable to process what had just happened.

Kenichi shrugged. Then he plunged his blade into the chest, the right side, of the shadowy creature. He wailed like nails on a chalkboard, then slowly melted away, like a shadow at dawn.

“Who's next?” said Kenichi. Hachikishi dismounted, and swung his morningstar as he stepped toward Kenichi.

“A fool and his luck soon part,” said the creature. Kenichi ducked under the swinging ball of spikes, rolled on the ground, and with a quick, fluid motion, swung at the Hachikishi's ankles. The thing gasped and fell forward.

“I don't think I'm the foolish one today,” said Kenichi, plunging his blade into the second foe.

Shichikishi was next. He held two short swords in his bony hands. “Your head shall make a fine centerpiece for my table,” he said, his voice a hiss.

Kenichi grinned, sticking his sword over his shoulder and stretching his neck out. “Come and take it if you dare.”

A cold blade pressed against his throat. Shichikshi had shadow-leapt behind him in the blink of an eye, and now pressed one of his black blades against Kenichi's flesh. “I dare,” he said.

Kenichi laughed, the blade of his sword, draped over his shoulder, was pressed into the neck of the Kugonin behind him. He shrugged, sending the blade up into the creature's head. “That was too easy,” he said as the third one fell to the ground and faded into death. “Now it's just me and Gokishi,” he said, pointing his blade at the last remaining Kugonin.

Gokishi stepped down from his Night Stallion. He drew a massive claymore from the scabbard on the saddle. Then, with a fierce and mighty pose, he quickly ran away.

“Let's go!” said Kenichi to Ash.

“He's headed toward the Hare!” Ash called after him. They ran through the city, pursuing the final Kugonin. He stopped long enough outside the inn to open the door and scramble inside.

Ash ran for the door.

“Wait!” said Kenichi. He grabbed a torch off a post and with an expert throw, sent it flying toward the Hopping Hare. It flipped through the air a few times before it landed on the wooden roof of the building. What with the massive amounts of alcohol that was housed inside, it was only a matter of time before the building exploded in a firestorm, consuming the Kugonin within.

Ash stood there, dumbfounded. At last he spoke, “Truly you are a hero.”

Oren and the others stepped up to watch the blaze. Oren let out a long, low whistle. “I bet Miss Murakami will be quite cross when she gets back from the well.”

With that, a woman stepped through the smoke and mist. She carried a bucket. She stopped when she came up to the smoldering remains of the inn. A plank still burned near her feet. In silence, she upended the bucket onto the flame, and it hissed as the water extinguished it.

Kenichi froze. He didn't believe what he was seeing.

“Marumi!?” he said, rushing toward the woman.