Chapter 2: The Reflection of Self

Blaidd awoke from his deep sleep as a cool breeze brushed his smooth and clean skin. Foreign memories and bizarre knowledge filled his thoughts as he opened his eyes, giving him a headache and overheating his delicate brain. The man took a big breath, the bewilderment dissipated, and he gazed down at his palms.

A layer of scarlet blood had stained his skin and a severe bite mark on his left hand was clearly apparent. But Blaidd then could see that the wound was healing swiftly, the bleeding ceased, and the discomfort had lessened, though the blood remained. Finally, he looked around; he was in front of a river, seated beneath a tree, and the grass around him was soaked in blood.

Near his leg was a shoddy iron knife, broken from the looks of it. He moved his gaze slightly and saw the other part of the knife lodged deep inside the corpse of a black wolf.

Blaidd sighed and stood up, eventually strolling towards the river, trying to clean himself of all the blood that had stained him. He took a step into the water, his blood parting from his skin, It followed the current, guided towards wherever the river ended.

As he washed his hands and body from the blood, he saw the reflection of his face, albeit barely. Upon seeing the face in the reflection, reality finally kicks in for Blaidd; this is not his own body.

When he wakes up, he already knows who he is, what he is, and where he is, but seeing another person's face in a mirror is an odd experience. He is someone else right now—someone else who is now himself.

This body belongs to Blaidd of Lod, a mercenary that roams the Continent, the main realm of this world that he's been sent to. Blaidd travels with a band of mercenaries nicknamed the Unfortunate Sons in his recollections, yet he has no true connection with them; they are simply a receptacle for his money-making excursions. Blaidd was a lone man from Lod, a city in the northernmost duchy of Kaedwen, a kingdom of this realm, as his title indicated. He has no one in that city; he came from an orphanage that barely treats him like a human, because Blaidd was part-elf—a half-elf, to be exact—so he ran away, and he has made his living by killing men and monsters ever since.

And that means, he's a perfect backstory for this 'mission' that the three wolves have given him, a blank start.

This man is tall, bulky like a typical bodybuilder in his previous world. His hair was black as the night, his skin white and delicate, too delicate to be a mercenary's, his face somewhat handsome, and his eyes… His eyes are grey. While the previous Blaidd does have grey eyes, this one's different… it feels like it's slightly glowing.

As for how he was here, his band was hired by the Kingdom of Temeria, a kingdom of the northern realms, to fight a war against the Nilfgaardians of the south, or the black ones as the nordlings called them, and the army is now resting near the city of Maribor, right in the wilderness near the Ina river, the river in which Blaidd is washing himself. While the army itself gave the band some food, it was just some basic ones like bread, so he was tasked by his brethren to hunt for some game to give variety to their meals. It was then that the previous Blaidd was killed by a lone wolf, and he came to take his place.

Blaidd finally cleaned up and stood in the river's clear water, gazing up at the sky. His mission has begun, and with it, knowledge of the world—its politics, cultures, and history—has entered his mind. Basic survival knowledge, medicine, as well as technology that most likely does not exist in this world, is included. It was an excellent 'bundle' to carry for this long-term assignment.

He also understands how his 'kind' operates now. Werewolves, true werewolves, a kind that can heal a limb in a matter of hours if they lose it, a kind that nature despises and loves at the same time, a kind where everything is inferior except them under the full moon.

Blaidd inhaled the clean air of his surroundings. When he was in these untamed places, he felt empowered, and a small sense of belonging arose in his heart. He could feel his muscles becoming stronger, his senses becoming more sharp, and his life becoming more abundant. It's a great feeling, to be sure.

Finally, Blaidd stepped out of the water and walked towards the corpse of the wolf. The carcass is still fresh, and he could bring it to his brethren as their food, but...

Blaidd looked at his fingers; sharp claws were starting to come out of his nails.

He could do better.

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A solitary roe buck grazed on the lush grass beneath the forest canopy, wary of any predators that might be lurking nearby. As the sun began to set on the quiet afternoon, the buck foraged for food to sustain itself - a familiar routine in these wild lands.

Suddenly, the sound of snapping branches pierced the silence, causing the buck to startle. It raised its neck, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of danger. Finding nothing, the buck returned to its grazing, only to be interrupted by a louder noise from behind. Before it could react, a powerful hand clamped around its neck, lifting it off the ground and choking it.

As the buck's vision blurred and its breaths became shallower, it caught a glimpse of its attacker - a pitch-black, wolf-like monster towering over it. The creature's silvery eyes gleamed in the sunlight, and with a swift twist of its hand, the buck's neck was snapped, killing it instantly.

The creature released the limp body, and it fell to the ground with a thud. Slowly, the wolf-like monster began to shrink and its fur receded, revealing a naked, tall, and muscular man - Blaidd, who had transformed back into his human form.

Naked and covered in sweat, Blaidd knelt down beside the dead buck, examining it closely. Aside from the broken neck, the buck appeared unharmed. Although he could have used his werewolf abilities to hunt the animal more efficiently, he didn't want to leave any traces of his supernatural presence. Instead, he planned to make it appear as though the buck had been killed by traditional means, such as traps or arrows.

Finally, the naked man looked at the sky again. The sky is turning dark, he should hurry up and make up this farce to return to the encampment.