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A Drifting Whirlwind.

Awakened into a new world with little memories in mind, only coarse collections of misty events and his single name, Diacrao is thrusted into this new world that is foreign to that from a world that he supposedly once called home, but he is not alone in this endeavor, along with him are a few individuals who shares a similar fate. He, and the others would find out that this new world is larger then life, and are to witness a new dawn that would change their lives. エエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエ The cover picture is a modified picture that has been modified using an anime filter. Credits to the original user who had taken the original picture. This story would be a slow burner, a real slow burner, and updates would be inconsistent given my schedule. I apologize for any inconvenience. This work will be rife with grammatical errors and mediocre writing. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. !! Chapter revamps are taking place, so there will be plot altercations. !! エエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエエ Hello Everyone, my schedule has been tight and my uploads has been inconsistent, i apologize for the slow delays everyone.

Karaoni_a · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
27 Chs

Chapter 3 : The Town Of Stone.

They stood in awe, marveling at the sight of a well-constructed, well-laid-out stone town by the hill that stood before their eyes. It has a blend of Swahili, Somalian, and Mediterranean styles in its architecture built white bright white stones fit with well-arranged clay roof tiles, although this isn't the case with some houses, as they are built with flat surfaces on the top.

As they followed the guards and went deeper into the cities, Diacrao noticed that there were vines growing on top of some buildings, he wondered if it was an aesthetical choice or a general neglect. The streets were quiet and dimly lit, with some light sources coming from illuminated rooms and a few street lamps. There were a few carts lined up on the streets, but they were closed for the time being, and occasionally, faint voices of chatters could be heard. Despite its quiet ambiance, he can't help but admire the beauty of this town, and the serene night that emitted a calming, greenish-cyan colour that gave a mystical tone to this world.

One thing Diacrao concluded was that this wasn't a prison, nor was it a slaveholding. He was relieved to know that this could just be another town, but he has yet to keep his hopes down and see where the guards would bring them to. It was already quite a walk and frankly, he was starting to get tired, so were the others who took occasional stops, but the guards didn't seem to stop for them, but they did slow down their pace to ensure everyone could catch up.

It was a while, but they finally reached their destination, a two-story stone building with a wooden logo, painted with a sword and an axe, and a foreign writing script that none could decipher. It was illuminated, so it was definitely occupied. The guards stopped, and looked at the crowd of newcomers, one of them motioning their hands to the crowd of newcomers to enter the building.

Some were hesitant to enter, and Diacrao has his doubts, but alas they followed the guard's orders, and they entered in the structure. Inside the structure, it was a well-illuminated room, with what seemed to be a library, many well-arranged books on the shelves, and at the corner, there was a man donning a Mokorotlo straw hat and a red padded armor, sitting on the table, dipping his quill on an ink bottle as he wrote something down, and beside him was an aged man who dons a similar outfit to the guards, except his headwear was absent, showing his white dreadlocks, seated as well.

Once inside without the presence of the guards, it was all quiet at first, but a few started talking and asking the seated men in their local languages, bombarding them with many questions. Diacrao himself was ready to do the same, but seeing their ignorance only made him think it was futile. It went on for a good minute before the old man got up from his seat, and turned his gaze toward the unsettled crowd. This did little to settle down the already nervous group of people, whose voices are getting louder. Diacrao and a few quiet people now huddled at the corner, watching the scene unfold.

The old man closed his eyes and raised his hands, using his fingers to draw some sort of pattern, while he chants a few words. It wasn't long before bright, green patterns formed in front of the old man, a sight that would mellow down the once-excited crowds into a state of confusion, awe, and even fear. In the blink of an eye, the pattern burst and broke into several orbs, orbs that struck directly at everyone in the crowd, except for the old man himself and the seated person.

Diacrao was taken aback by this sudden move and fell to the ground, along with a few others, but surprisingly, this strike did not hurt a bit, except for his back on which he fell. Not even a little, no, he felt no changes in his body. The crowd was also pretty shocked by this absence of pain that was struck by them. What did this old man just do?

"Heh, your faces are priceless, it's amusing and never gets old. Fret not, foreigners, I just cast a Linguistics Assistance spell." The old man stated in a calm manner as he had a sneaky smirk on his face, clearly still amused by the reactions of the crowd.

"You idiot! what was that all about?" A ginger-headed man yelled. Wait, the old man and the ginger head were understood by Diacrao, who promptly replied " Wait, I can understand you, and the old man too!" whatever he cast, it surely made him intelligible. "Wait, we can understand each other now! What did you do old man?" remarked a lady among the confused and amused crowd.

"Its a spell that allows foreigners like you to understand some languages. In your case, you now can understand the Azware language, the common language spoken in this town and surrounding regions. But be wary, not everyone speaks this language." The old man exclaimed to the lady, and subsequently the crowd before turning to the seated man, who in spite of the commotion, still remained relatively unbothered. Not his first rodeo, it seems.

"Now my work here is done. That will be 10 silvers, as promised." The old man exclaimed as he took the wrapped coin bag. "Now if you excuse me, I will be heading home. You all, on the other hand, will be briefed by Diric here, the overseer of the foreign volunteer corps. Good night, and good luck everyone. Oh, and where are my manners, welcome to the town of Manda." The old man said as he strolled off and exited the building. Manda, so that was the name of the town.

"Foreign Volunteer?" A guy among the crowd explained. Foreign Volunteer Corps? what did the old geezer mean? "Wait, what is happening here exactly?" Diacrao asked, followed by a few questions in a similar vein.

"You heard him right," Diric spoke, in a deep voice, as he turned his attention from whatever he was writing to the crowd. "You have many questions, and I sadly can't answer all of them. But that is not my purpose anyways, my job here, is to present you, with the new reality, and the opportunities that you can take to help you in this world." The man paused, before he took a cloth laying on the table as he sneezed. "Sorry.", he apologized, as a woman from the crowd said "Bless you."

He thanked her, before resuming, "This world will give you an opportunity, an opportunity to turn a new leaf from your past, an opportunity, to start a new life."