I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

The snow crunched beneath their boots, each step swallowed by the vast silence of the frozen southern road. The Goblin Steppes lay behind them, and ahead, veiled in frost and shadow, waited the infamous Whispering Woods. The world was still, save for the slow rhythm of three fugitives pressing forward. Each step was a gamble against the dangers of a world long since distorted.

"So what's in Pridtur?" Stick asked, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice. His breath curled in the air like smoke. Snow clung to his boots, and the cold gnawed at the edges of his stamina.

Nakamura had been helpful so far, but Stick couldn't shake the unease. They'd traveled together for days now, but trust didn't come easy when someone was used to wearing Carnifex colors. He was still the Baron's brother, after all.

"Back when the game functioned normally…" Nakamura began.

"You mean before Carnifex enslaved NPCs," Stick cut in, sharper than he intended.

Nakamura cast him a venomous glance, sharp and cutting, but did not rise to the bait. He continued evenly, "Players stocked up in Pridtur's shops. It was a central hub between two zones. Strategically placed. Ideal for prep."

"Why are you telling us now?" Stick asked, narrowing his eyes. "Why not sooner?"

"Because it's in the Whispering Woods," Nakamura replied. "You're supposed to defeat the zone boss before crossing over."

Stick didn't miss a beat. "Nakamura… aren't we past 'supposed to'?"

The older player crossed his arms and stared at him. "You've gotten cocky since you learned how to swing that toothpick. Pridtur might be abandoned now, but without LVL 11, you're not strong enough for the transition. You want to get eaten by Dire Wolves?"

Stick swallowed. Big Man shifted beside him with a faint clink of his chains. The memory still burned. Didn't need to be reminded of that time.

"It's worth a try," Big Man said, calm as stone. "We need equipment."

Stick nodded, a flicker of hope in his chest. "Maybe we can skip the Goblin King altogether."

"That won't work."

"What? Why not?"

"You need to be LVL 11 to safely move between the Goblin Steppes and the Whispering Woods. Even if it's just a single level, this particular power spike is unreal."

Stick pushed back. "Maybe we could grind mobs in the woods."

"You'll get shredded," Nakamura said, already exasperated. "A pack of Dire Wolves is the weakest thing out there."

Stick opened his mouth, but Nakamura raised a hand. "Picture a pack of Dire Wolves, strength-wise. That's one bear. Now imagine the strength of five bears in one troll. And then imagine five trolls compressed into—"

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"Okay, okay! I get it," Stick said quickly.

Nakamura nodded once. "The Steppes teach you to fight. The Woods teach you to survive. Crafting, bartering, gearing up. You're expected to fill every slot." He pointed at himself as he spoke. "Helmet. Chestpiece. Gauntlets. Pants. Boots. Weapons. Accessories. It's not about stats. It's survival. And all of it costs gold. What little I have might buy one decent sword."

He glanced at Stick's battered [Bronze Sword].

Stick looked down, suddenly self-conscious. "Okay, but what does that have to do with the Goblin King?"

"Under normal circumstances, he drops 135 Gold."

"Oh." Stick hung his head. "So we have to defeat it first."

"Exactly," Nakamura said, voice tight. "Like I said, it's incredibly difficult to cheat the system."

They continued their trek, the cold wind tugging at their cloaks. The stars were faint, blurred by swirling snow. Time slipped past until distant flickers of torchlight danced along the far ridge, weaving slowly across the snow-covered plains.

"What's that?" Stick asked.

"The Goblin Festival," Nakamura said. "Every time the Goblin King dies, the clans begin migrating. They hold a tournament. Twelve hours after the King falls, a new one rises. It's like they are programmed to know when the King dies."

Stick stole a glance at Big Man. This really is a game world…

They passed the ruins of Spearhead, a crumbled outpost once held by Goblin Hunters, as Nakamura explained. Crumbled walls, a sagging roof, the shattered remains of what had once been a proud banner. Stick slowed, looking up at the wreckage with reverence. It used to be a monument to the fight of Cavon's people reclaiming their lands from the goblins. Now it was a shadow of its former glory. Goblin Hunters…

Nakamura stared at the remains a moment longer, silent.

"Everything okay?" Stick asked.

"I'm fine," Nakamura said quickly, and walked on.

Stick studied him for a moment. Did he know someone who lived here too? An NPC, maybe? The Carnifex soldier? No. And even if he did, his former guild drove them westward with the rest of Cavon's survivors. Or killed them.

Despite the darkness, the towering wall of trees that spanned around the entirety of the Goblin Steppes, marking the boundary of the leveling zones, came into view. Stick remembered a time not too long ago when a high-level Player used a glowing ring to part the forest like a curtain.

"Do you have one of those too?" he asked Nakamura.

"That won't be necessary," Nakamura said flatly.

Eventually, they reached a massive iron-wrought gate nestled within the treeline. No guards. No warnings. Just the hush of the forest beyond.

"This feels like it should be guarded," Stick muttered.

"It was," Nakamura said. "By some high-level NPCs. They kept underleveled Players like you inside the Goblin Steppes."

"What happened to them?"

"They wanted to reclaim the lands for Cavon," Nakamura replied.

Stick tilted his head.

"They joined B4's raid against the gods," Nakamura added, voice colder now. "And died."

"Oh."

"Not everything is Carnifex's fault," Nakamura said. "That's why Players aren't allowed to use NPCs in boss fights anymore."

"But that's not entirely true," Stick said, remembering a recent event. "B4 still does it."

"Yes. And you're making the same mistake," Nakamura snapped.

Stick said nothing. Big Man's shackles rattled gently behind him.

"Don't listen to him," Big Man said. "He's just a bitter child who only knows rules."

The words landed with force. Coming from a former slave, it cut deep. For a moment, nothing more was said. Nakamura's mouth tightened, and he didn't speak again.

They pressed on. The forest closed around them, dense and winding. The air grew heavy. Stick gave Big Man a faint smile.

Big Man offered a silent thumbs-up.

Suddenly, Nakamura stopped.

"Eyes wide. We've got company."

Stick summoned his sword from his Inventory. His fingers curled tight around the worn grip. Big Man raised his fists.

They scanned the shadows, hearts pounding.

"What is it?" Stick whispered.

But he didn't need the answer.

A low, guttural growl rose around them—deep and wet and angry. Familiar.

It seemed to come from the trees themselves, vibrating through the roots and frost like a warning from the world's bones.

Glowing yellow eyes blinked open in the dark.

The Dire Wolves had found them.