Riku awoke to the scent of wood smoke and the faint murmur of voices. For a moment, his mind wandered aimlessly, trying to piece together his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was stumbling through the woods, the weight of an unfamiliar sword at his side, the exhaustion pulling him down like an anchor. But now, as the light of dawn crept through the small window, reality settled back in with a cold shock. He was in Endaria, a world far from his own, a place where danger lurked behind every shadow and the line between life and death seemed razor-thin.

Stretching carefully, he winced as his muscles protested. The events of yesterday came flooding back: the eerie silence of the forest, the glowing sword he could barely lift, and the strange, comforting warmth of the inn where he’d finally collapsed. Despite the shelter, Riku had slept restlessly, his dreams filled with images of monsters, shifting landscapes, and whispers he couldn’t understand.

The room was simple—stone walls, wooden beams, and a bed that creaked under the slightest movement. The floor was cold beneath him, but the warmth of the thick blanket that had covered him through the night was comforting. Near the window, a small wooden table held a tray of bread and soup. The steam rising from the bowl was rich and inviting, reminding him just how hungry he was.

A voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and slightly amused. “Finally awake, are you?”

Riku turned to see a tall, wiry woman standing in the doorway. Her hair, streaked with gray, was pulled back into a loose bun, and her apron was dusted with flour. She crossed her arms and studied him with sharp eyes, as if appraising him like an object she had little use for.

“You slept like the dead,” she said, carrying a second tray to the table and setting it down. “Figured you needed it. You looked half-alive when you stumbled in last night.”

Riku rubbed his face, still groggy, and managed a small, sheepish smile. “Thanks.”

The woman raised an eyebrow as she watched him hesitate, his stomach growling audibly. She smirked, crossing the room and pulling up a chair. “Go on, eat. You’ve got the look of someone who hasn’t had a decent meal in days.”

He didn’t need any further encouragement. Hesitantly, he dug into the soup. The broth was simple—nothing fancy—but it was warm, hearty, and satisfying. The bread was fresh and crusty, and for a moment, Riku felt a small flicker of peace. It was the first time in what felt like days that he didn’t feel on edge. The world outside could wait.

The innkeeper sat across from him, arms crossed, watching him eat in silence. There was something about her—gruff but with a presence that demanded attention. Riku couldn’t shake the feeling that she saw through him, as though she knew there was more to him than met the eye. When he finished the soup, she didn’t waste any time.

“So,” she began, her voice blunt, “what’s your story? Travelers usually have one.”

Riku froze, his spoon suspended mid-air. His mind raced. He hadn’t even thought about a cover story. He couldn’t just say he was a player from another world. “Uh… I’m just passing through,” he said, his voice a little too high. He winced inwardly. It sounded flimsy, even to him.

“Passing through?” she repeated, her eyebrow arching. “With no coin, no supplies, and no sense of where you’re going?”

His face flushed, and he looked down at the table. The truth was, he had no idea what he was doing. He was a gamer, not a hero. This world had thrust a strange responsibility upon him, and he couldn’t make sense of it.

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“I…” He paused, then the innkeeper cut him off with a sigh.

“Don’t bother lying. It doesn’t matter why you’re here. Everyone in Endaria’s got their troubles. But let me give you some advice: This world doesn’t take kindly to drifters. You need a purpose, boy, or it’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

Her words stung more than he expected. He didn’t know his purpose. All he had was the sword—the one that had pulled him into this mess. It sat across the room, glowing faintly, almost as if it were watching him. The weight of it was always there, like a reminder of everything he didn’t understand.

“Why did you help me?” he asked quietly, the question escaping his lips before he could stop it.

The innkeeper gave a small shrug, as if the answer were simple, yet beyond words. “You looked like you needed it. Not everything has to be complicated. Sometimes people just need a warm meal and a place to rest.”

Riku nodded, unsure how to respond. Kindness from strangers wasn’t something he was used to. There was a certain hardness in this world—survival mattered more than anything else. Yet, somehow, she had helped him. Maybe she saw something in him. Or maybe, like her, she was just tired of the harshness of this world.

As she stood to leave, she paused at the door, casting a sharp glance at him. “If you’re staying in town, you’ll need to pull your weight. The villagers don’t take kindly to freeloaders, and I’ve got enough mouths to feed.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Riku promised, though even he wasn’t convinced.

She gave a brief nod and left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. His gaze drifted back to the sword. It sat there like an alien artifact, its faint glow pulsing with a life of its own. Something about it unsettled him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave it behind. It felt like a part of him now.

His reflection was interrupted by the sound of raised voices from outside. Curious, he made his way to the window. Below, in the town square, a group of villagers had gathered. A few of them were shouting, their faces flushed with frustration. At the center of the group stood a young man, his clothes torn and dirty. He appeared to be arguing with a couple of townsfolk, gesturing desperately as he tried to explain himself.

“Get him out of here!” one of the villagers yelled. “He’s a thief!”

“I didn’t steal anything! I’m just trying to survive!” the young man shouted back, his voice breaking with emotion.

Riku’s stomach twisted. The scene seemed all too familiar—small towns, tight-knit communities, and outsiders who were never quite welcome. It was a story he’d seen play out countless times in games, but seeing it in real life made it feel different. More personal.

He watched as the village elder, an elderly woman with a staff, stepped forward. She was tall for her age, her posture commanding, and she immediately hushed the crowd with a stern look. “Enough!” she called out. “Let him speak.”

The young man fell silent, breathing heavily, as the crowd parted to let the elder approach him.

“What’s this all about?” she asked, her voice calm but stern.

“I swear, I haven’t taken anything from anyone,” the young man pleaded, his eyes darting between the villagers. “I’ve been hungry for days. I just—”

“Enough of your lies,” one of the villagers cut in, his face red with anger. “We’ve seen the way you look at our supplies.”

Riku’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword. The young man’s voice was raw, pleading, but the suspicion in the air was thick.

What was his role in this world? Should he just stand by, watch it unfold, or intervene? He had no answers, but his heart pounded in his chest. Something about this scene felt different. He couldn’t simply be a bystander.

Before he could make up his mind, the elder spoke again, her voice carrying weight. “This man is not a criminal. He’s a desperate soul. I’ve seen the signs of hunger in his eyes. This is not the first time we’ve had travelers fall into these situations. But I will not allow us to become like the rest of the world—judging without understanding.”

Riku’s heart quickened. The elder’s words reminded him of the lessons his parents had taught him long ago, lessons that seemed to fade into the background as he grew older. In this world, people needed compassion and understanding more than judgment. But the villagers weren’t ready to hear it.

“Thank you,” the young man whispered, his shoulders slumping in relief.

The crowd grumbled, but they dispersed as the elder led the young man away.

Riku lingered by the window, feeling the weight of what had just occurred. Was this the kind of world he was supposed to change? Could he make a difference here, with nothing but a glowing sword and his confusion?

For the first time since he’d arrived in Endaria, Riku wondered if he was truly ready to face whatever was ahead.