The next thing I felt was a pain in my lower back from a bad bed, then my eyes shot open, and I immediately sat up.
"WHOA!" A young man's voice reached my ears, and I activated my defensive enchantments…
But nothing happened.
I desperately stared at my blurry arms and noticed that I wasn't wearing my enchanted robe anymore. Not even the crystals and magitech hidden within my body reacted, so I was left completely defenseless.
I touched the Wizardry spells written in my soul and felt that they were still there, but the only ones that could be used for defense were [Explosive Release] and [Unrelenting Corruption], and they were terrible choices since I had no equipment to boost them. I could use [Personal Lockbox] to take out my soul wand or Arrow of Death, but it'd take so long that I'd be decapitated thrice before I could even touch either of them. I usually left my powerful weapons with Ahael and Pepeda since my Lockbox had always been shamefully small.
My eyes gained focus, and I noticed that I was in a small wooden room with a young blonde-haired man sitting in front of the only exit out of here, then I saw the sword at his waist and my wariness increased further. I definitely wouldn't be able to access my Lockbox before dying, though he didn't look like he was about to kill me, so I decided to wait and see.
I should've kept my grimoire with me!
The man smirked and awkwardly ran a hand through his short hair as he mumbled nonsense, yet my brain translated it for me again, "The Shaman told me that you were going to wake up right after the spell wore off, but I didn't imagine it'd be the instant it was dispelled."
"Who are you and where am I?" I immediately questioned, but only nonsense came out of my mouth, though this time I could also understand it just like I understood the man.
He lowered his head, leaving him open for attack, but I thought it'd be a bad idea to try to subdue him right now, so I let him speak his piece, "I'm the Holy Knight Forfta, and you've been summoned by the Divine Guide Bedama to save this land from the Infernal Scourge. We deeply apologize for stealing you from your home world, but our desperate situation called for us to take extreme measures, and the Guide chose you as the one most fit to aid us in our darkest days."
While he droned on, I took my time to take in my surroundings. The perfectly square room was made entirely out of wood, and while it didn't have any sort of decorations, it was at least sturdy-looking enough that I believed these weren't just barbaric dwellings, though they weren't particularly good architects. The room had windows near the ceiling, but they were closed, so it lacked air circulation, making things a bit stuffy. I also noticed long, dark marks on the floor, which I believed were from furniture being dragged out of the room. This worried me because it's something I'd do whenever I was breeding a particularly violent slave.
Forfta wore a well-made dark scale armor lined with comfortable-looking white fur, giving him a noble air. His sword's cross hilt was slightly ornate, but I saw the signs of wear, evidence that he was an experienced swordsman.
For now, I'll play along since a Wizard without their enchantments, grimoire, or staff may as well be naked. Well, I did spend most of my days naked, so perhaps "vulnerable" is a better word.
Once Forfta finished his little speech, he lifted his head and gave me a hopeful, but also apologetic look, and waited for my reaction
"I was naked in a hall with other people as bare as me…" I calmly recalled.
"Yes. They are your comrades, also summoned from different worlds to this one. You were taken away from them since you managed to break out of the dazing spell…" -Then he cringed, his youthful face making it annoyingly easy to empathize- "and that could be dangerous if the confusion from the summoning suddenly led you to becoming violent."
"I understand…" I replied in the blabbers that I believed were their language, then I sighed tiredly.
Using [Pacify] on me?! You fucking inept barbarians! Your spell was so pathetic that just a little poking was enough to dispel it, so I'm only not angrier because I feel like laughing!
"My name is Farnezian Vralitza, Grand Wizard of Zabulen," I introduced myself with a fake smile, then I massaged my eyes as I stalled for time to get my emotions under control.
I hate that he called himself "Holy" Knight. He reminds me of the sun-masochists, though he lacks their tan, and he might be just as insufferable as the Thaumaturges. I have to play along until I can find my bearings here.
I sighed once again and lifted my head to Forfta. "Now what?" I babbled in their primitive language.
"Eh…?" And he replied with a cute, but also dumb-sounding noise, his face blank with surprise. "Don't you have any more questions for me?"
I'd like to question the sanity of your "Divine Guide" for bringing me here, but I need to know more about your kind so that I don't ask the wrong questions.
And my stomach suddenly growled loudly, echoing in this empty room.
"May I eat something first?" I politely asked.
He cringed slightly and shrunk his posture. "Before that, would you like to look in the mirror?"
I narrowed my eyes tiredly. "No, but since you asked, yes."
Then he snapped his finger, and a young woman in drab robes immediately walked in holding a simple, unadorned, round mirror.
Once she pointed it at me, I almost recoiled in horror.
My hair, my eyebrows, my horns, my scales… all gone! My… my face was not how I remembered it was. I was younger, with narrower eyes, and I found the new, slightly feminine traces I was given were staining the chiseled, purely masculine face I had sculpted for myself before.
I looked at my hands and finally realized that all of my draconic features from before were gone! I'd spent so long tending to them and nurturing their growth until all the black scales had lined up perfectly! Now it was all gone! Even my tail!
Then I noticed that my cock had shrunk by one-tenth.
FUCK YOU, BEDAMAAAA!
After recovering from my shock, Forfta told me that the young woman could grow my hair and eyebrows again, which I immediately accepted.
She closed her eyes and clasped her hands, then her face scrunched up, and I almost flinched back as I believed she was going to take a shit right in front of me, or at least fart, but then a ball of light left her forehead and flew towards mine like an arrow.
Without time to react, and without any defenses to put up, I could only wait as a foreign presence covered my skin and then made it itch.
This confirms it, they're damn Thaumaturges. I better watch my tongue.
"How long do you want your hair to be?" Forfta asked me amusedly, enjoying my surprise and stiff posture.
"Shoulders," I replied flatly.
And I felt my beautiful, silky, dark hair regrow in real-time, which was decidedly unpleasant even though I enjoyed being tickled by Pepeda.
"Do you have anywhere else you want to grow hair?" He jokingly asked with an infuriating grin, but I always liked to be without pubes or ass hair, so I declined.
The woman sighed, and the foreign, icky presence faded away, then she bowed and retreated out of the room.
Forfta stood up and extended a hand to me. "Now let's go eat something," he kindly offered with his annoyingly jovial smile.
Once I stood up, I cast [Personal Lockbox] and opened a hole with my finger, then I put my hand inside my personal storage and grabbed my enchanted rectangular glasses. Hopefully, the enchantments still worked.
Forfta stared at me with a surprised expression, his whole body stiff, and his hand hovering over his sword.
Oops.
But once he realized what I'd done, he let out his breath and walked out of the room.
Once I started walking, I realized someone must have had put underwear on me because I knew I was completely naked during the summoning.
They better pray no ugly man sullied my cock with their masculine hands…
The robe I was given was also pretty rough, irritating my sensitive, pale skin, though I saw the servants wore clothes that were a lot worse. Forfta's armor seemed of high enough quality to be passable to me, though.
As we walked through the slightly cold corridor, I noticed how everyone was a human with pale skin, though their hair color had some more interesting variance, like browns, blondes blues, purples, or pinks, but they were all rather faded and without vibrancy. Perhaps they were Elementalists like Darva, the cunt?
Everyone is kind of short, though. I wasn't a particularly tall Master, so I guess they're all as tall as the average servant slave…? Sounds fitting for these barbarians.
There was also a considerable number of small snow animals moving about, but most of them were either ferrets or monkeys. They walked around the edges of the corridors in single file avoiding even looking at us, just like the slave servants of Zabulen did, so I guessed they were familiars. The high number of them was awfully odd, though.
Stolen novel; please report.
Are they a race of mages?
The windows were all closed, and the illumination was faint, coming from crude fire lanterns, though I couldn't see any fuel compartment for them, so they must've been magical.
We walked down the stairs and crossed another corridor, then entered a similar hall to the one I was summoned to, though this one had no columns, and instead, there was a high ceiling with timber beams holding the roof in a half-arch. As decoration, there were a few shields with a white tiger drawn at the center, and the heads of dozens of furred beasts that lined up the walls. From among the beasts, I only recognized a large wolf and a bear, and the rest were all foreign to me.
How rustic…
The sight made me remember that I saw such architecture in the houses the sun-masochist usually erected.
The hall was populated by long wooden tables that held a feast and surrounded by simple, cushioned chairs.
So much wood…
Two dozen fair-headed simpletons wearing crude, but sturdy-looking metal armor were all having a loud meal while six others wearing the same robes as me awkwardly listened to the raucous soldiers while trying to eat their food. Half a dozen of the armored soldiers were wearing visibly shinier and fancier armor, and their demeanor seemed loftier, so they were obviously of a higher class.
The double doors at the end of the hall were ajar, letting a few snowflakes in, and I realized why the windows were closed and the air was stuffy.
At the other end of the hall, a large, blonde-haired man wearing a lavish white fur vest sat on a white throne as he observed the summoned humans with an unreadable expression. His chiseled face, long beard, and wild hair reminded me of a lion, leading me to believe he'd make an excellent combat slave. His blood-red thorny crown was slightly intriguing, but it also had a bit of righteous air that I found distasteful.
The throne beside him was empty, but there was no reason for me to speculate on the reason yet.
His eyes slowly turned towards mine, and he stared intensely, but I felt nothing special about them, so I just nodded respectfully and joined my "comrades."
The first "comrade" I noticed was a man standing among the soldiers. He was as black as night and had preferred to remain bald. His build was big, and he was actually taller than me, but the thing that stood out was the subtle way he moved because it reminded me of Lisita. I instantly knew he had extensive combat experience.
It also wasn't lost on me how the only three female soldiers seemed enamored with him.
The second one I saw was a young man sitting down at the table and awkwardly drinking from his tankard. He had a pale face, dark hair, and narrow, exotic eyes. His upper eyelid was flat, and it seemed that there was a fold of skin under it.
His eyes were beautiful, but he was a man, so I'd have to breed that characteristic into a female slave before I could truly appreciate it.
Then my eyes fell upon a small girl with white hair and blood-red eyes, and I almost stumbled as my mind brought back the image of her naked body. She was beautiful. Not as perfectly innocent and balanced as Ahael, but still the most stunning young girl I've seen so far. Unfortunately, her mind seemed to be the same age as her body as she looked at the soldier with childish wonder and laughed innocently at their crude stories.
Maybe if I can keep her from aging she'd become a fine slave.
Beside her was a cute… very cute young boy with tanned skin. His chair was very close to the girl's, and he meekly kept his head down as he listened, apparently slightly frightened at the loud noises like a frisky cat.
Ah… Mashka. I want to hold you…
Beside him was another person as black as night, though this time it was a stern-looking woman who ate her meal with a delicacy fitting a snobbish Princess, but I knew that her slender body was that of an athletic person. Her hair was silvery, making her attractive to me, but I felt like I'd enjoy more raping her than having her as a slave.
And with the rest of the soldiers, there was an orange-haired beauty with a square jaw and an ample chest that the loose robes couldn't hide. I knew she was a cock-gobbler from the moment I saw her as she had no problem getting in the mood with the sweaty, burly men that shamelessly ogled her, praying for the loose tie of her robe to finally come undone.
The black man noticed me approach first. As our eyes crossed, he lifted his tankard to me while showing a shiny white smile and took a sip, then slapped the back of one of the soldiers and pointed to me. The soldiers stopped their laughter, and the hall quickly grew silent.
"The seventh hero has awoken!" Forfta happily announced right on cue.
He'd make a good attendant, at least.
The soldiers lifted their tankards and cheered, with my "comrades" following a second after with varying levels of enthusiasm.
I sat down on a chair with an empty plate and immediately grabbed my cutlery then lunged for the nearest roasted avian.
Forfta stopped behind me, smiling like the foolish youngster he is. "This Grand Wizard Farnezian of the Zabulen Empire," he obediently introduced me.
"And Farnezian is starving," I casually replied then continued to eat.
"Wizard?!" The exotic young man exclaimed excitedly.
I narrowed my eyes (heh) at him and grumbled, "Yes…?"
The young man flinched back and started stumbling with his words, "I-I mean, I've nev-never seen a wizard, but I-I thought you'd be… you know…"
"Yess~…?" I hissed, quickly getting annoyed at his meekness. He was far too old to be acting like a bumbling child.
"Old and scrawny," the black man answered for him.
I actually stopped eating and blinked blankly from the confusion. "Why would I be like that?"
The young man's balls were reattached for a second, allowing him to reply, "Don't you have to, like, spend your whole life studying magic to become good at it? But you look just a few years older than me."
I adjusted the glasses on my nose and imparted upon them a piece of wisdom, "I am, in fact, a lot older than you, so you should never try to guess a wizard's age, at least not the good ones." -The sharp gaze the women suddenly gave me when they caught the meaning of my words felt extremely predatory- "Unfortunately, I lack the resources and/or a facility to actually cast most of the spells I know." And that was enough to assuage the female seekers of youth.
"That can be arranged," a grave voice echoed from one end of the hall. The Lord, or whatever title he had, spoke with gentle certainty, though his eyes seemed to want to pierce through me and investigate my soul. "The Holy Kendriiey Empire will provide anything you require, if you can prove you're worthy of it, Savior Farnezian."
I gritted my teeth and lowered my head, then I breathed in and danced, "I apologize as I wasn't given your name."
"I'm King Brapersn Ledare, of the Ledare kingdom, something you would've known had you paid your respects to me, as you should've done," he sternly stated and glared at Forfta, whose mouth twitched repeatedly as the young Knight bitterly swallowed his retort.
With my meal already interrupted, spending a few more seconds to not crack the glass ego of royalty seemed like the best idea.
I stood up and bowed, then introduced myself again, "I'm Grand Wizard Farnezian Vralitza of the Dark Empire of Zabulen."
"'Dark'…?" The exotic young man blurted out, sounding fearful.
I straightened my back and saw the white little girl frown, so I just had to properly explain it to them, "'Dark empire,' not 'empire of darkness.' Zabulen is a sunless wasteland, built inside a dark, warm cave deep under the surface. We erected our own artificial sun and carved a small paradise isolated from the rest of the savages, allowing them to kill each other in droves unimpeded."
"What a distinguished society you come from," the black man commented with a well-hidden snippet of sarcasm.
"Hmph," I grunted and sat down, then immediately resumed eating.
"I'm Bogyoke Aung, or Bo-Aung as my casual name," the black man introduced himself with his shining grin. "I'm an Operative from the Hchupanggnye Republic."
Ignoring that his country's name is unpronounceable, a "republic"? That's the antithesis to the slaver Zabulen Empire.
"What's an Operative?" Forfta curiously asked.
"A soldier responsible for raiding, recon, and rarely, assassination. But like our comrade Farnezian, I don't have any of the weapons I used for killing."
But the other soldiers didn't care. He was an elite soldier, and he immediately got their respect.
Everyone's eyes turned to the exotic young man.
"To-Touya Yushotada. I mean, just Touya, not 'Totouya,'" the meek man lost his balls again. "I'm just a student from Japan, so I never fought before." And he forced a bitter smile to show.
Then Bo-Aung slapped his back loudly, though Touya barely seemed to feel it. "Don't worry, young man, we'll make you into a warrior!" And he raised his tankard in cheer, with the rest of the soldiers following a second later.
"Thanks. I'll do my best!" Touya exclaimed and lifted his own tankard, struggling to not show his shaking, and turned it bottoms up. "AGUEE!" He shouted after finishing his alcohol.
"AGUEE!" The soldiers repeated, what I believed to be, their war cry.
The eyes fell on the white girl, who grinned adorably, making my cold heart warm up for a moment. "I'm Lanaa S'kaiig. I was one of the Barrier-Masters of my tribe, but I guess my sister has taken up my place, now. I know that my tribe will be fine even without me, so I'm happy to be able to help where they need me more," the little girl happily told her short tale.
Either she hated her old life, or someone's been suppressing her sad emotions to keep her from missing her family. She doesn't even feel fear from being thrown into an unknown environment as she should.
"We're glad to have someone of your talents with us, Young Lanaa," King Brapersn warmly comforted her, and I didn't feel any predatory tone in his speech, so I believed I shouldn't worry about him.
"Ussun Villca," the tanned boy spoke out before anyone looked at him. "Apprentice Sorcerer from Pisac Academy."
The soldiers hummed in awe, but Forfta seemed suspicious about something. "Do you have a magical core?" He cordially asked.
"A what?" Ussun blurted.
"A monster core?"
Ussun simply shook his head, and Forfta dropped it, "Never mind, then."
I was also concerned, but it was about something else.
"You're an 'Apprentice'?" I repeated with narrowed eyes.
And the boy recoiled, then nodded meekly.
"All of you should've received two Gifts from the Guide," Brapersn interjected, and all my comrades turned to him with confused eyes, including me. "The first one was the ability to speak our language, and the second Gift will take time for you to find out what it is, so be sure that the Guide has given you the tools to succeed in your quest. You shall save our land."
"You'll save this land!" The soldiers shouted in unison.
And my comrades followed, "We'll save this land!" Fearing mind-control magic, I tried my best to shout in sync with them.
My "comrades" might not be slaves, but I'm almost certain this "Bedama" is closely "guiding" them.
Now it was the silver-haired, black-skinned woman's turn. "I'm Triana Ortz. A Sword Devil from the Zaragoza Kingdom," she introduced herself with a slow, deliberate tone.
"'Devil'?" Forfta calmly asked, a hint of caution in his tone.
Triana narrowed her eyes at him, not in anger, but in confusion. "The men who fought me called me that. They thought I was evil for killing them without mercy, but the title has no deeper meaning."
"Oh!" Forfta exclaimed and relaxed. "I think that was just a mistranslation." And he smiled jovially again, slightly annoying me.
"Hm…" Triana hummed in thought.
Then Forfta's face darkened, and his tone became cold and detached, "'Devils' are what the Infernals call some of their members. They're the cruelest and most sadistic soldiers they have, and they even require to be constantly chained because they can't hold back their evil urges."
Doesn't sound like very effective soldiers, though.
"We're going to be fighting them?" Touya meekly asked.
And Forfta answered without hesitation, "Yes." But then his expression softened again. "Though if you lose to them, they'll likely kill someone as dangerous as you before they violate your corpse, so you won't feel a thing."
"UHEHEHEH!" Bo-Aung laughed heartily, and the soldiers followed. Touya also tried to laugh, but his was obviously strained.
And the last one was the orange-haired cock-gobbler. "I'm Helg Skonhieg. The Hunter of Shadows for my tribe," she proudly announced and smacked her ample chest, the jiggles causing envy on the breast-challenged females present. "I hunted the evil beasts that lurked in the shadows, and I mean actual shadows."
"Ooh~…" Touya cooed in awe, and Helg sent him a proud smirk.
"So your former world is untamed?" I asked Helg after a sip of some disgusting milk alcohol. It was the only alcohol they had, so it'd have to do because I needed it.
"If you put it that way, I guess it is," she casually replied with a shrug.
"This world also isn't tamed," Forfta cautioned us.
Of course, it isn't. You likely wouldn't have needed to summon us if it was.
"We'll lasso it, then!" Lanaa happily exclaimed, getting some cheers from the soldiers, but we were all mostly enamored with her innocence. Even the cold killer Triana smiled at her.
Then the men and women wearing fancier fur introduced themselves as "Aevermen." They were some sort of feudal lords, or something, their titles didn't translate well.
With the boring formalities finished, our comrades continued sharing tales of their original words while I ate and they drank. The food was too fatty, clumsily spiced, and roughly made, but it filled my belly, so I didn't complain, at least not yet, because I was feeling rather malnourished.