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Chained Author's Transmigration

'I've always felt alone my whole life. I don't know if I like or if its because I’m used to it, but I know this' Being alone your whole life, changes you. Larian never had life an easy. Rejected by the people around him, he had legs crushed in an accident and lives in his Dad's place in his late 20s. He only had had one thing going for him. A novel that started as a diary for therapy, he pours his emotions into a fantasy world where Larian throws shit at his Main character. Transmigrated into his novel how is he going to survive all the odds he placed against himself? Author's note: Chain here has nothing to do with getting chained up(No BDSM). MC is not really an renowned author, but a person who was encouraged to write his feelings out like a patient dairy. The world he has written is a reflection of his own turmoil, so there is a lot of uncertainty in the area's MC has not written about.

WrittingCabbage · Kỳ huyễn
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45 Chs

Life in Ash

But despite how far away it looked Larian felt like he could reach his destination much earlier than he expected.

As he flew across the sky, the bits of falling ash hindered his finish and would easily get stuck on his body.

'Nevermind, this won't be as easy as it seems.'

There were inconveniences as he flew but Larian got used to the sensation of flying in the hash environment and learnt to fly optimally. 

He was travelling so much faster than before that he really considered if Adam had wasted his time by giving him the Demon form so late. 

'He was holding out on me until I showed interest in becoming Demon King. Adam is only acting out of self interest, the sign of goodwill may be pathed with insidious intent.'

Larian didn't let his emotions show on his face as he maintained his altitude, staring into the distance. 

The next hours were numbing as nothing but Ash piles lay in the distance.

But as the hours passed, Larian witnessed the sun rise.

Another day had gone by and Larian could barely estimate the distance he covered by the difference of the giant figure compared to when he first saw yesterday morning.

While Larian couldn't help but be impressed by how big a Fire Tar was capable of growing. 

He finally noticed a small village on the horizon.

'A tribe? Here in the Ashlands? Well there were a lot of slaves in the Blood Lord's castle so people living in the Ashlands is not an impossibility.'

But the village required Larian to take a detour, he could skip it and continue on his flight path to the Giant Fire Tar or change directions and pay the village a visit.

Assessing his situation Larian felt that it was right to try and gather supplies to make his trip ever slightly bearable.

Flying close he was surprised to see some grass growing by the village. Its leaves were greyish green and they looked shivered like weeds, but in this Ash covered land, any sign of life was already a miracle.

The houses that decorate the village was built out of stone and they had slanted roofs that extended high which prevented the Ash from piling up.

Some men were shovelling ash into a pile while others were walking about. 

The village looked lively. But the surprising thing about it was that everyone looked unique and wore different clothes that fitted different occasions. The man shovelling looked like a horned demon in warrior armour, while the person walking into a house was a human wearing tattered garments.

That was not all. In such a dangerous environment, there were no walls or patrolling guards. The people in the village just walked about without weapons in hand, it made Larian wonder what would have happened if slavers came around.

Larian landed in close proximity to the village, allowing the demonic energy to naturally dissipate along with his wings. When they receded, Larian walked up to the shovelling demon. 

Larian's voice was haggard from how little he drank in the past few days but he managed to squeeze out a question.

"Hey… where is this place?"

Finding out if the village was known and connected to any other place could be beneficial for Larian who had nothing else guiding him besides the beacon of a giant figure as a sign. 

The demon warrior stuck his shovel into the deep pile of ash beside the stone house and tossed it further into the stack he was piling on the side. It looked like a useless act that doesn't really help in a desert of ash, but Larian wasn't one to judge what someone wanted to do with their time.

"I'm shovelling…"

Larian was slightly surprised that his question was ignored but if there's anything he has learnt in everything he endured through, he had to be patient.

"Do you have any water or food? I'm a traveller in need of supplies."

The demon remained unhinged as he stared into the pile of ash. His eyes looked focused like the ash was the most important thing in the world.

"I'm shovelling…"

The same deadpan response made Larian's brows come together. He was confused that his words were not going through, that he doubted himself for a second. 

Looking down on himself, Larian glanced at his current appearance. He wore a battered armour and had his weapons strapped to his waist. Was he being judged? But the man didn't even give Larian a glance, it was like Larian was a dust being blown in the wind.

'He's either mentally unsound or wants to be unbothered… Fine, it's my fault for asking questions out of the blue.'

Hoping for an answer after being ignored twice was as useless as shovelling sand in a desert. Larian turned to look at the rest of the village. The houses were stacked in rows and the ground was tiled with stone slabs

As Larian passed the few villagers their attire had no connections to one another, like they all originated from different places.

'They have diverse clothing as part of their culture…?'

Walking to a well dressed demon who wore leather clothes, Larian wanted to ask the same question to the shovelling man earlier.

The man looked up and turned to Larian, noticing the unfamiliar face. Before Larian's words came out, he asked:

"A new face in Hans Grove?"

He opened his mouth, then looked around. There were a mix of races and clothing, but he definitely stood out with his battered red armour.

Larian cleared his throat.

"Yes I'm new here. Where is this place?"

The man's expression turned warm

"This place is somewhere far out, I dare say we are in the middle of nowhere but at least the Great Ignis is still in sight."

Larian looked around and there was not much in the village that would be capable of holding that title. In fact the entire village was either grey or more grey, so Ignis could only be the Fire Tar Corpse in the far distance.

"Does this village not have walls or guards? You just let me into the village… Isn't that a little careless?"

"Well monsters tend to stay away from . You'd be safer here than any other place in the Ashlands, I assure you."

'That wasn't the point… What if someone with ill intentions comes?'

Larian was slightly dubious but didn't pursue it.

"Since you're new, why don't you stop by the inn? It's rather small since guests are rare these days but it's still managed by Hans himself, he is always excited for new arrivals in town."

The man pointed Larian to a particularly large house of the village.

The help the man provided made Larian smile and he nodded his head in thanks. 

As he walked down the village path, the grass grew greener and lushier. Complimented by the basking sunlight, the village looked warm and welcoming.

After entering the stone house, Larian was greeted by a counter with an assortment of trinkets. There were books that detailed animals and insects, the entire room looked to be inspired by its contents as there were toy wooden horses and stuffed animals being hung about.

If Larian had not seen the few open tables available for guests he would have assumed this was a toy store.

The decorations fitted the furniture and gave the house a homely feel. As Larian walked closer, it caused the candles by the counter to flicker.

His arrival caused a commotion in the backrooms and a small figure walked out.

It was a kid with a pair of horns on his head. It curled like a goat horn on the boy's head. Larian was unsure of what he saw, the manager of the Inn was just a boy?

There might be some influence of Star on Larian's attitude to Kids, but he was immediately weary of the kid.

"Woah! You gave me a startle, who are you? I don't think I've seen you before."

But unlike Star, this kid spoke fluently and had a bright face. Larian nodded his head.

"Yeah that's not surprising, I'm a wanderer who came from Trier."

Although Larian had just escaped from Beleth's castle and was possibly hunted by Lilith, he was not going to share it openly with strangers of the Ashland.

"Wow! That's really far away, isn't it? Anyways, welcome to Hans Grove, I am Hans!"

The boy spoke in an enthusiastic tone, it somehow made Larian's mood calm.

"You're Hans? … I thought you'd be older"

The last village Larian had visited was in the forest between Trier and Orkan Mountains. Based on his limited experience, it still made sense to think that an elder would be the face of the village.

"Oh.. er haha yea, I didn't have a name when I was found by the people here. I was named after the Village."

"The people must really care for you to name you after their village."

Nodding his head, Hans smiled brightly.

"Yea, they love me! Which is why I must do a good job helping everyone… Oh right, I have to help guests that come. So, are you looking for a place to stay?"

Larian had come because he was hoping for some supplies, but since this village looked nice enough he didn't mind staying for a while

"Sure I don't mind, what do I use to pay?"

The boy tilted his head as he thought in silence. After a few seconds, a bark could be heard from the back. 

"Torm! What are you doing!? That's not yours!"

A dog half the size of Hans ran out from the back carrying a stuffed toy in its mouth. It dashed past the counter and under Larian's leg as it bolted through the door Larian had just entered from.

"Oh no! That's my most special toy... Um, you look like you can run fast. Can you please help me get Torm back? If you don't, I'm pretty sure he'll bury it in the sand."

Larian blinked, he didn't expect such a development. The dog seemed to have taken the opportunity when Larian opened the door to make its escape.

So it might have been partially his fault but if he could get a simple favor done, he wouldn't mind helping the kid.

"Sure, I'll try to get your toy back."

"Can you? Thanks, that's super nice of you. Hurry, run fast before Torm gets away!"

Larian quickly exited the inn, and looked about for the Dog. It had ran far into the village and Larian took off in a sprint across the stone tiles.

"Torm! Come back!" Hans tried to shout as he ran, but his small legs, however fast, were no match for the dog's speed. The dog was in a playful mood and zigzagged through the village buildings keeping Larian out of reach.

As Larian chased, the villagers were caught in surprise and didn't have enough time to react as the dog bolted past them.

"Blast! The dog is at it again!"

Listening to the villagers, Larian understood that the dog running rampant was a usual occurrence.

"Run quickly, Stranger! Torm is as slippery as a burrower in sundown!"

The villages encouraged Larian but it only made him annoyed.

'If you have time to comment, try chasing him yourselves!'

As Larian chased the dog around the village, the dog and man duo eventually circled back to the entrance of the village. It was quite some distance from the Inn and the dog finally showed signs of fatigue.

The dog slowed down and allowed Larian to get closer. Larian extended his hand, and Torm dropped the stuffed toy, almost as if he were giving it back.

Holding the toy and the dog in his arms, Larian glanced at the demon in warrior garb again. The man shoveling the ash was still at it.

'I guess he is just a quiet guy. The rest of the village can hold a conversation properly. Well I won't bother him.'