Narchis opened his eyes and was instantly stunned—he had just been sitting in front of his computer.

  To his left, a regiment of warriors marched forward in formation, dressed in full medieval armor, shields in hand and one-handed swords gleaming. Their synchronized chants echoed with the clash of metal.

  To his right, a horde of grotesque, greenish-gray humanoid creatures surged forward chaotically. Towering at nearly two to three meters tall, their twisted faces were marked by tusks and sharp features. They carried no crafted weapons—only massive clubs, likely torn straight from entire tree trunks.

  One blow from those monstrous tree-bats would turn him into pulp.

  If he were still safely seated in front of his screen, this would’ve thrilled him beyond words—what a spectacular scene, what a masterwork of immersive world-building!

  But now that he was in the middle of it all, Narchis didn’t feel thrilled. He felt terror.

  “Hey guys, is this a movie set? I don’t even know how I ended up here—can we dial it back a bit? I’ll just, uh, step aside for now,” he stammered. “Where’s the camera? Director? Director, I can see you—come out already!”

  His voice trembled, and even he didn’t believe what he was saying.

  If this was a film, the human soldiers made sense. But what the hell were those monsters?

  Instinctively, Narchis turned toward the human army—after all, they were his own kind. They should be the safer bet, right?

  He’d barely taken a few shaky steps when several dark shadows whistled through the air.

  “Oh, crap—this is real!”

  The shadows slammed into the ground just ahead of him with a thud thud thud, embedding deep into the dirt.

  They shimmered with a cold, metallic gleam—and were barbed.

  Definitely not props. Those were the real deal.

  Had he been a second slower, he would’ve been turned into a pincushion.

  “Goddamn it! I was just trying to find somewhere safe—and you shoot arrows at me?!”

  Even in his daze, Narchis could finally sense something was seriously wrong.

  Both armies shouted in languages he couldn’t understand. It wasn’t English—or any other major language he knew. The syllables were complicated, tangled like vines, even more difficult than Chinese.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “No way... Did I just—get isekai’d into another world?!”

  His whole body shivered as the words slipped from his lips.

  Both sides were closing in, and by the look of them, there was no chance they’d just leave him alone.

  Especially the monsters. When they looked at him, their mouths practically drooled.

  Narchis’s knees went weak.

  “If this is another world, there has to be a wise old mentor, right? Grandpa! Where are you?!”

  “Old man, stop playing! I can hear you talking!”

  Panic-stricken, Narchis looked back and forth between the human army and the approaching monsters, muttering incoherently as despair spread across his face.

  “Sure, I complain a lot... Sure, I’m cynical about the world... But you didn’t have to dump me here! Whoever brought me here—please take me back! I don’t want an adventure, okay?!”

  He begged every deity he could think of, but no voice answered him. It was as if he were the only one who had arrived in this world.

  How unlucky could a man get? Thrown into another world, no cheat skills, no guidance—just dumped into the middle of a battlefield.

  Still clinging to hope, Narchis frantically searched for hidden cameras. He still couldn’t quite accept that this was reality.

  Could this really be some sort of elaborate prank? But if it was, it was the most expensive and immersive one ever made.

  A gust of wind rushed past. Narchis stared dumbfounded at the ground—another arrow had struck the dirt, just centimeters from his foot.

  He reached up and touched his cheek—blood. He was bleeding.

  This wasn’t fake. He had nearly died.

  Heart pounding, Narchis panicked. No longer caring about direction, he turned and sprinted away from the arrow’s path.

  He forgot that he wasn’t just being targeted—he was between two armies.

  He had barely moved a few paces before one of the monstrous creatures appeared in front of him.

  Towering, fanged, and grotesque, it opened its maw—and a wave of foul stench hit him like a wall, nearly making him faint.

  “No—I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

  The creature’s hideous features came into focus—razor-sharp teeth, four shining tusks glinting in the sun, and behind it, a spiked tail just longer than a pig’s, coiled like a whip and studded with barbs.

  It wasn’t long, but it was clear: this thing was dangerous.

  Blood and flesh clung to its lips. No doubt about it—it was carnivorous.

  “Guruluk... gachi...”

  The creature's jaw moved as it mumbled something in that strange tongue. Narchis didn’t understand a word.

  The monster stepped forward—Narchis instinctively stepped back.

  His foot caught something, and he fell backward with a thud.

  “Seriously?! You’re screwing with me now, aren’t you, universe?!”

  A quick glance revealed the culprit—it was one of the arrows that had flown at him earlier, still slick with a smear of his blood.

  He hadn’t even made it that far.

  The monster spread its jaws wider and advanced. Was that a grin? Maybe. Probably.

  It babbled more of its strange language and reached out its massive hand.

  Was it planning to take him as a prisoner? Or maybe... just carry him off as a snack?

  At that moment, the clash of steel and war cries rang out behind him—the human army had arrived.

  But they didn’t spare Narchis even a glance.

  Another wave of arrows rained down.

  One of the arrows struck the monster in the chest—but it only barely pierced the skin, the tip lodging into the thick hide without sinking deeper.

  The monster roared in rage and lunged at Narchis with renewed ferocity.

  “No! I don’t want to die—I’m not food!”

  Narchis screamed, flailing backward, hands raised in a futile shield.

  And then—it happened.

  A burst of green light flared from his palms.

  From the soil below, roots surged forth like awakened serpents. They writhed, stretched, and entangled the creature in an instant, tightening with astonishing force.