Dreven's eyes popped open. The light poured into his golden eyes as he looked around.

A forest towered around him, the scent of damp earth and rich foliage filling his senses. Stretching his legs, he sat up.

Looking down, Dreven realized he was naked. “Lovely!” He sighed, making his way over to a nearby pond that sat motionless. The cool water mirrored the surroundings, reflecting the tall trees and the sky above.

The reflection of the water allowed him to reveal his form. His familiar face stared back at him—ash gray skin, long pointed ears, and black hair that contrasted sharply with his gray skin. Two long, fang-like canines protruded from his mouth.

While his body was average height, he was well-built, which was typical for a Bloodfallen in his home world.

Retracting his incisors, he stretched.

Dreven started to make a list of things he had to immediately do.

“First, find some clothes and food. Second, find a town or someplace to gather information about this world. Third, assess my strengths versus the local inhabitants.”

Dreven couldn't help but feel slightly giddy about it all. He, a low-tier Bloodfallen, was now the strongest Bloodfallen in this world.

As he looked around, he noticed a flicker of light in the distance. “A camp?”

Immediately, he cautiously made his way toward the light beyond the trees. The light grew brighter as he peered through the thick underbrush.

In the clearing was a small encampment with a fire crackling at its center. Around it were four people. The first was clearly a male dwarf with a large beard and plate armor. Dwarves he recognized from his previous world. Two were men, one with a bow and the other a sword and hand shield. The last was a woman with red hair wearing what could only be described as a mage outfit.

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“The classic adventure party,” Dreven thought to himself. This probably meant a settlement was not too far away. The main issue was how he would approach them. Dreven knew he wasn't exactly approachable. Based on the voice, he was entering a world that was unfamiliar with his kind.

One thing was certain: he wouldn’t approach them without figuring out if he could defeat them or escape if necessary.

The dwarf, grinning wide as he bit into his roasted meat, spoke first, his voice gruff but carrying a warmth that suggested a familiar camaraderie. “Brahck flemorcha, dinng-ha! Allih var nalkr, nay?” He nudged the man with the sword, who chuckled and gave the dwarf a playful shove.

The swordsman scoffed, smirking as he turned the spit over the fire. “Ach, dor blenro ka! Na’kern tashal, Griv? Trillin wesh-bronn ma’mal bel?” he replied, raising an eyebrow in mock offense. His voice had a lazy drawl to it, like he was just as likely to fall asleep mid-sentence as he was to crack a joke.

The archer, sitting a little apart from the group, snorted, drawing his bowstring in a quick, practiced motion before letting it snap back into place. “Hach m’aluk, gozo ferlin’nai!” he teased, winking at the mage. “Drell mo’an torru vel-ash?”

The mage, adjusting her robe with a practiced flick of her wrist, rolled her eyes, though a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “Vero lin, tas gal blinta knar,” she chided, sounding exasperated but amused. “Nay ghrel mordo sha! Trivva no kalen, dossar ferresh.”

The dwarf let out a loud belly laugh, slapping his thigh. “Ha! Brash’enna no tol’gar, dinn fortra klel!” he bellowed, taking another swig from a flask. His laughter was infectious, and soon, all of them were laughing, voices rising and falling in a chaotic symphony that Dreven couldn’t quite make sense of. But the camaraderie was unmistakable—the kind of easy familiarity that came from long nights around countless fires just like this one.

“Telgar mur, nelsh dra-gra,” the archer muttered, poking the fire with a stick, his tone shifting to something more serious. The others went silent, casting quick glances at one another, the unspoken meaning heavy in the air.

Dreven narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the words, but they only reinforced his sense of isolation. Still, he listened intently, piecing together their dynamic, their roles, and weighing his odds.

Dreven could feel his mana reserves were essentially zero since he was brought here.

Though he could sense mana in the air, he didn't know if the laws of this world were different from his previous world.

The group discussed among themselves for a while before one stood up, drawing their arrow and pointing the opposite way of himself.

At that moment, Dreven sniffed and immediately sensed another presence that seemed unfamiliar.

A fight? What a good opportunity for me. Dreven smiled; his ability to transform this into his benefit had come.