Chapter 6- The Lone Swordsman

Chris left the Adventures Association soon after his awakening with many thoughts swirling in his head. Contrary to what the association recorded, chris did receive both a class and a skill along with it as well.

Whether they knew he had a class or not may prove to be a blessing or curse in the future, since only individuals with a class could undertake harder quests that paid more regardless of your class rank. Meaning until he took the ritual again to prove he had a class, chris would need to continue taking less fruitful quests to make money.

As for the skill he gained, through the innate connection he had with his soul, he could make out the words, or rather, feel the words etched in reading 'Danger sense'. Which perplexed chris because why would a fortune teller need to sense danger?

Brushing those thoughts aside he made his way to his room at the inn he frequented and began running experiments on his new skill in order to get an accurate measurement of its capabilities going forward.

He placed his chipped sword on a shelf above his head in order to mimic the possibility of a sword coming down on him, however, no sooner had he tilted it in his direction a blaring warning sounded in his head.

'Danger up'

The voice in his head was his own ,yet at the same time wasn't, since this new voice lacked a sense of empathy when warning him.

'Well it is a skill, I guess,' thought chris removing the sword from its vantage point. Chris also noted the skill stopped at the same time he removed it, meaning it only works when the danger is already present and is taking place.

Chris tried multiple scenarios and it all led to the aforementioned principle, leaving chris with a satisfied feeling considering all the near death experiences he'd been a part of, leaving him with scars all over his body and a sense of alertness even when sleeping to avoid being ambushed. Though he never complained because the fact was, he came out stronger and stronger the more he was fighting for his life, and although there was a form of mental exhaustion every now and then, he couldn't deny the benefits he received along the way.

Chris went to bed the next day, with plans of taking another quest to test his skill in mortal combat and gain true experience on the battlefield for the first time as an awakened adventurer. Locking the door tightly with extra ropes to avoid getting mugged like his neighbor did in the middle of the night, placing his sword next to him to always be ready to engage with an opponent should they arrive, and last but not least, looking outside through the windows he masked with paint to avoid being spied on, and judged it was safe enough to sleep.

Unlike previous nights, chris had a strange dream. Where instead of having his physical body, it was now incorporeal and had a ghostly appearance. He was hovering high up in the air, in an unknown location in what seemed to be a battlefield between two armies.

No, to say two armies was an understatement because on one side, lies an army clad in red armor full of vigor and ready to go to war with the entire world itself. But on the other side, there lied no such thing, instead there stood one man. The man was tall, had dark hair and the posture of a strong warrior on a battlefield, that much was obvious from any perspective.

But the only...the only features that chris took note of were his eyes. Since dying and coming to vantralis, chris had never seen anyone who had heterochromatic eyes, with his left eye being gold and the right one being blue.

His eyes were scanning the battlefield, just as Chris was doing as well trying to figure out what moron would even attempt to take on an army by himself. One would have to be extremely strong and the other side being extremely weak to even consider such a thing. Because there is no way even a strong individual can fight thousands upon thousands of medium or strong individuals at once. It just didn't make sense, which made it harder for him to stomach it causing anxiety for some reason.

A few moments later, he had his answer. The man took a stance that reminded chris of the Iaijustu stance commonly used in anime to depict quick draw techniques.

Chris was confused internally, 'But why woul- '

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Three consecutive explosions rang out faster than chris could finish his thoughts and by the time he realized, the lone swordsman had already vanished from his eyesight.

That, and approximately 40% of the red armored army troops whose previous unshakable appearance was now mangled and bloody pulps of flesh and armor embedded within it.

Chris suppressed his nonexistent vomit from surfacing and the sight of remains for the red army, but what terrified him the most was how the lucky few that, barely, survived the onslaught took their own lives rather than wait for help from their comrades

'There he is! ,' thought chris as his eyes fell on the lone swordsman that was the cause of all this , standing at the top of some beastial elephant chimera used by the red army for logistics.

The lone swordsman sheathed his sword that chris noticed as an Odachi. Making things even more complicated, because how did a sword and sword technique from his world cross over into this one.

While chris was pondering these questions, a bulky demon, yes the red army troops were demons If he was to believe the books he read about them at the library he usually frequents, emerged from the ever faltering troops dragging a sledgehammer the size of a bus. The appropriate word for such a weapon would be Warhammer for calling it a sledgehammer would be belittling it.

The lone swordsman's brows furrowed upon setting eyes on him, then proceeds to trace his hand over the handle of the odachi as if caressing it. Lowering his center of gravity in preparation for the quick draw not willing to waste another second taking part in battle with this demon.

Sensing his intentions, the tyrannical demon easily lifts his warhammer to wholeheartedly welcome his opponent with an equal display of power in his stance that seemed to favor defense.

Chris feels a throbbing pain assault him in his mind, as is his forcefully awoken back to the present physical world while the blaring alarm in his head is warning him of danger from all sides.

Chris grabs his sword ready for battle or escape if necessary, only to find that he's alone in his room.The door still had the chairs as barricades pressed on its handles, and the window as well was still intact. Peering through it through the gap in paint he left ,he was surprised to notice a shadow of a person across the street staring at him.

Chris freaked out, and prepared to create a distraction to grab everyone's attention to alert any nearby adventures to his aid. But before he could do that, the shadow was already gone and his danger sense ceased its function.

'W-What was that' thought chris as he breathed out a sigh of relief and proceeded to take short bursts of naps just to make sure he didn't come back, still fearful of the unknown stalker.

Chris already had an idea of who that was but it's their identity that left him spooked, because it isn't everyday you get visited by an assassin. Not just any assassin, but one that is feared throughout the entire Midvake town.

' Cethin, the Advanced rank assassin employed by none other than.....' though chris as he revealed the name of the elusive assassin.

"Mayor Midvake," said chris aloud.