At a junction of one of the alleys, the armored figure crouched behind a collapsed wooden support, vigilant and wary. He scanned his surroundings before cautiously taking another step, ensuring no one was in sight.

Since his first battle in this unfamiliar world, he had encountered three more conflicts, mainly due to his lack of caution. However, unlike the initial encounter, most of his subsequent adversaries chose to flee as soon as they caught sight of him. The other battles were not overly challenging, possibly because he was armed and ready for combat. Yet, he was certain that their weaknesses played a role in his victories. He noticed that none of them matched the speed and power of his initial attacker. Utilizing the unique abilities of his non-human body and his limited capacity to anticipate their moves, he swiftly overcame them with relative ease..

As he moves swiftly and cautiously, he casually touches the hilt of the sword at his hip. After his first battle, it seems he has developed a penchant for seizing spoils. Now, he holds in his hand the first sword he acquired, while the second, of similar length, hangs behind his back from another confrontation. Another shorter sword rests comfortably on his waist, along with several small canvas bags he discovered concealed in the clothing of those he fought. In these bags, he found what appeared to be metal coins, and he proceeded to hang all the bags on the belt of the sword wrapped around his waist.

He called it the madness of grandeur, , but carrying all these weapons provided him with a feeling of security, something he had forgotten since arriving in this world. His speed increased significantly with every passing minute; he felt as though his internal clock was signaling the approach of his rest, and he didn't want to collapse here amidst the chaos and people. When he reached an empty square, he managed to cast a more comprehensive glance at the structures and the path. After some calculations, he muttered curses under his breath.

If he follows these alleys, he won't be leaving the town anytime soon. The nearest route to distance himself from civilization lies close to open areas and certainly near people. However, with no other viable option to change his direction towards the open regions, he offered a silent prayer while advancing. It seemed his prayer was answered, for he encountered no living being on the way, only some small quadrupeds scurrying about.

Until he abruptly halted at the sound of clamor and human cries. He approached cautiously to catch just a glimpse, only to find four men engaged in a heated discussion, with two lifeless bodies lying on the ground nearby, their fate unknown. "Damn," he cursed under his breath, scanning the remaining directions, hoping to find an alternative passage to navigate through.

Suddenly, one of the men caught sight of a flashing blue light in the distance, making him suspicious. He noticed his comrades' doubtful looks, so they all turned their gazes in the same direction towards the same light, exchanging knowing glances before parting ways in different directions.

"Sons of @##_&" - He couldn't count how many times he cursed or swore on that day, but he was certain this time it came straight from the heart.

He quickly moved his feet, attempting to escape through the narrow alleys towards the forest when he suddenly faced a relentless attack from the side. However, due to his alertness and almost fog-like vision through the walls, he managed to avoid most of it, defending himself with his hand. Then, he changed direction and entered another alley, only to encounter another opponent ahead. He swiftly changed his course again, successfully evading any intervention for a while.

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Before he could recover from the previous surprise attack, another ambush came from one of the windows. He managed to defend against the attack with difficulty, but just as he was regaining his balance, an unexpected arrow pierced through his side, causing him to lose control for a moment. Nevertheless, he quickly regained his composure before continuing to run. This time, he attempted a counter-attack, delaying his move to help him avoid falling. With each turn and every attack, he kept moving, getting closer to the town's outskirts.

Finally, as he rolled to avoid a horizontal strike aimed at his head, he crossed the town's boundaries and fell onto a grassy ground.

But the siege was not over yet. As he stood up, he found the fourth assailant standing before him, aiming a stab towards his neck, which he narrowly avoided by moving to the side. As he stood there, he realized he had fallen into a trap. Three warriors surrounded him—one of them wielding a hammer, while the other two held short swords. The last assailant, whom he noticed from the corner of his eye, was positioned on the nearest rooftop, aiming an arrow at him.

Now, there seemed to be no way out. Even if he managed to escape the town's boundaries and perhaps enter the forest, these men would not leave him be. To make matters worse, he felt that his moment of awakening was nearing its end.

He might not even have a quarter of an hour before he fell asleep again. So, this time, he assumed a defensive stance—as he had seen the first person he encountered do—and prepared for the imminent clash, which did not take long to occur. The warriors wasted no time and leaped into the attack.

The time he took to prepare his stance was no more than a second, which he had saved by positioning himself slightly further away from the siege.

He parried a low strike from a sword, but before he realized it, a hammer was dropped on his shoulder, disturbing his balance. He quickly stepped back before feeling a blade pass over his shoulder from behind.

He wasn't foolish; he knew he wasn't skilled enough to face four warriors, especially when he could barely handle a sword for a day. What chance did he have against four expert warriors, even if his gear was better than theirs? However, this realization did not quell his anger and impatience. Each time he countered a strike, he was met with ten more. His ability to anticipate their moves was of no use against this relentless siege. He was certain that if it weren't for his body being made of iron and his accelerated healing, he would have fallen already.

In a moment of tragic combat, where the sounds and sparks of clashing metal mixed with the orange reflections of nearby fires on his shield, contrasting with the blue flames, a strong sense of despair spread through his being. It forced him to search for any way to break the siege and escape. At that moment, Amidst countering a rear attack, he glimpsed the fast-flowing water of the nearby valley. A crazy idea struck him, one that could lead to either salvation or an inevitable end.

Amid several futile exchanges of blows, he attempted to get closer, but the men thwarted any change in direction. The moment of sleep drew nearer and nearer, making it increasingly difficult to focus – a deadly weakness for any warrior. He felt the intensity of the attacks rising, and in a moment of desperation, he launched a suicidal assault on the nearest warrior by the valley, the one wielding the hammer. Seizing this reckless move, the warrior directed one of his strongest strikes at the armored shoulder of his opponent.

However, the opponent did not falter. Despite losing his grip on his hand and losing control, a glimmer of hope arose within him after breaking through the siege. He sprinted and leaped with all his might towards the valley, only to be struck by another arrow in the same vulnerable spot on his shoulder before plummeting into the water, embraced by the fury of the waves. His consciousness retreated into darkness, surrendering to his spiritual exhaustion.