No! my world is not a novel!

Currently, Zorha held tightly onto his sword, his hand gripping the handle with immense force, causing his knuckles to turn white.

After taking a deep breath, he yelled out, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

"Warlock Ashura!"

He roared as he looked around at the chaotic scene before him.

Acting quickly, he sliced his thumb with the sword, causing the sound of the blade cutting through his skin to ring in his ears.

"Pisik!"

His blood flowed out of the wound, but it wasn't Zorha an ordinary bleeding.

The crimson liquid seemed to move in a strange and unnatural way, twisting and coiling around his fingers as if it were alive.

The blood crawled up his arm, over his chest and stomach, down his other arm, and eventually covered his entire body.

Zorha felt an intense burning sensation as the magic surged through his veins, and he knew that the transformation was complete.

Suddenly, Zorha's eyes opened wide, revealing not two, but six red glowing orbs with large pupils.

His once handsome face contorted into a terrifying appearance, with curved horns protruding from his forehead and three pairs of eyes with yellow irises and red sclera.

Zorha had transformed completely into a fearsome Asura, appearing as a being of immense power and destruction.

He raised his sword high, releasing a deafening roar that conveyed his anger and fury.

"It's time."

He spoke, his voice sounding like a combination of a young man, middle-aged man, and an old man.

The sound was so unsettling that it would send shivers down the spine of anyone who heard it.

With a sudden movement, Zorha lifted his hand, revealing bulging muscles that looked capable of ripping a person apart.

Blood dripped from his fingers as he strode purposefully towards the gaming chair.

Zorha tightly grasped his sword with his left hand and lifted it high above his head with a swift motion.

The blade glinted ominously in the dim light, its surface slick with blood.

Without any hesitation, Zorha slashed his right hand with the sword, the sound of flesh and bone meeting steel piercing the air.

Shwack!

Blood splattered everywhere, yet Zorha remained unflinching, his eyes now glowing an ominous scarlet red.

He threw the sword away and lifted his head towards the sky, his face contorted in a mix of agony and pleasure as he closed his eyes.

Zorha spoke in a strange language, his words incomprehensible to anyone other than himself.

"Hoc nomine declaro te mihi arma fore, meque tibi dominum!"

He repeated, his voice growing increasingly fast and urgent with each repetition.

The syllables tumbled out of his mouth in a frenzied chant, blurring together into a dizzying whirl.

Despite being a Warlock, Zorha was only a novice in the art of taming magical weapons, so he knew that this would be a challenging task.

"Hoc nomine declaro te mihi arma fore, meque tibi dominum!"

He screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the chamber as he commanded the gaming chair to submit to his will.

"Hoc nomine declaro te mihi arma fore, meque tibi dominum!"

Zorha continued his frenzied chant for what seemed like an eternity, investing all of his energy and willpower into the task.

Finally, he ceased, his breathing coming in ragged gasps as he almost collapsed to the ground.

For a brief moment, there was silence.

Then, with a sudden rush of air, Zorha let out a deep, shuddering breath.

His three pairs of eyes snapped open, their glow intensifying as he gazed down at the gaming chair.

To his relief, he saw that the pod had turned red, and he could feel that its magical essence was now under his full control.

Zorha's smile stretched from ear to ear as he whispered.

"I was right. It truly is a magical treasure."

Suddenly, as if struck by a bolt of lightning, Zorha was jolted into a different reality with a deafening thud!

His body hit the ground hard!

Despite the impact, his eyes remained wide open and fixated in one direction, as if taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the tent with a mix of bewilderment and curiosity.

However, his mind was transported to a place that felt strangely familiar, like a vivid dream or a distant memory from another world known as Earth.

Sob! Sob!

Zoeha's eyes welled with tears that cascaded down his cheeks as he relieved a simple yet idyllic life in his dream.

He saw himself surrounded by a loving family, with parents who showered him with affection and siblings who were his best friends.

The memories were so vivid and real that he couldn't help but weep there at the ground.

Zorha's eyes were like a kaleidoscope, reflecting a myriad of emotions that flickered like flames.

They welled up with tears of envy as he saw the happiness of the family in his dream, but also with joy and pleasure at the love they shared.

Mixed with these emotions was a sense of peace, as if he had finally found a place where he belonged.

"Ackk!!"

He screamed with a muffle sound.

Zorha's body convulsed violently as if being struck by a bolt of lightning, causing his muscles to contract and spasm uncontrollably.

The sensation was like nothing he had ever experienced before, as if his entire being was being electrified by some unseen force.

Inside his dream, Zorha immersed himself in the world of cultivating novels, devouring every page with a voracious hunger that bordered on obsession.

The vivid descriptions of magic and adventure filled his mind with a sense of wonder and excitement, making him feel invincible.

But the one book that captured his imagination like no other was the "Fantasy of Winners: Bloody Series", a novel that had gained a cult following among readers.

Its plot was simple yet captivating, a tale of survival of the fittest where the readers had to guess who the main character was.

A lot of main characters, and everyone of them has an army and troops they can command to ravage the land of the aboriginals.

The story was set in a magical world where different factions vied for power, and once the two main forces clashed, the battle became a strategic game of wits and strength.

The tent was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the violent shudders wracking Zorha's body.

Suddenly, his screams shattered the stillness.

"No! No! No! This can't be!"

His mind was awash with vivid images of the Deva Tree, the object of his worship, its familiar operations unfolding before his eyes.

He saw the kingdoms of his world, the legends that had been passed down from generation to generation, and the nature of the Asuras, all in a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that left him reeling.

Zorha's panic was palpable, his voice raw with fear as he screamed.

"What is this!? What is this!?"

His mind was flooded with visions of the Asura realms, their sinister workings laid bare before him.

He saw how to enslave and kill the Asuras, and every detail filled him with terror.

The nightmare seemed never-ending, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the visions were real, that they were coming from somewhere beyond his own mind.

Soon, Zorha's world was crumbling around him again, and he could feel his mind slipping away.

"This is not true! This is not true!"

He cried out in desperation, his voice shaking with fear.

He could see the Asura realm, the Deva Tree, his beloved Asuras and shuras, all of it being torn away from him.

It was as if his entire world was nothing but a figment of someone's imagination, a creation of a gadget called computer and phone.

"My world is not a novel!"

He screamed, his senses reeling from the shocking realization.

"My world is not just a novel! It's real, it's all real!"

But deep down, a seed of doubt had been planted, and he couldn't shake the feeling that everything he had ever known was just a product of someone's imagination.