I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

Hirohiro's sharp command cut through the tense air. "Halt!"

Stick flinched mid-motion, instinctively tightening his grip on the sword. His heart pounded against his ribs. "What's wrong?"

Hirohiro waved him over, taking cover behind the remains of a crumbling wall. Stick hesitated before following.

"Before you fight, always check your Life Points first."

Stick blinked.

"Oh." He lowered the sword slightly. "Is that really necessary?"

He felt fine. His muscles were tense but ready, his mind anxious yet determined. He didn't feel weak.

"Don't be stupid," Hirohiro snapped. "You never know if you've taken Environmental Damage."

That's fair.

Stick opened his Status window, scanning the information displayed. Everything looked normal. His [Life Points] were at 486/500—not quite full, but close enough.

Hirohiro handed him a small glass vial filled with red liquid. "Always fight at Full Life."

Stick hesitated. "That seems… wasteful."

"It's wasteful to die to a Goblin Grunt," Hirohiro countered. "Plenty have. Do you want to join them?"

Stick swallowed. Without another word, he popped the cork and downed the potion. Warmth spread through his body as his health bar topped up.

"Now, what Skills do you have?"

Stick's eyes widened. "Skills?"

"Like your attacks," Hirohiro explained. "Heavy Strike, Quick Lunge, Paralyzing Blow? Stuff like that."

Stick frowned. Another system mechanic he didn't understand. But Paralyzing Blow…

Something about that struck a chord. His eyes flickered to Big Man for a split second.

"I don't know. Where do I check?"

Hirohiro gave him a skeptical look.

"Your Skills tab," he said, as if it were obvious.

"I don't know where it is," Stick admitted, embarrassed.

Hirohiro raised an eyebrow, then sighed. "Open your Menu."

Stick did as instructed. A translucent interface appeared before him. He scanned through the options, flipping through different windows, but he couldn't find anything labeled [Skills].

"You should set that to private," Hirohiro advised.

Stick, still confused, nodded in agreement.

Big Man, who had been observing, huffed. "Is all of that necessary? He just has to fight."

Hirohiro turned his head. "It might be intuitive to you, NPC, but Players have to figure this stuff out."

Big Man crossed his arms, unimpressed.

"Here, let me help." Hirohiro leaned over, guiding Stick through the menu.

Finally, he found the [Skills] tab.

It was empty.

"That's… weird," Hirohiro muttered.

Stick felt unease creep in. "What's wrong?"

Hirohiro stared at the screen. "That's not possible. Everyone has at least one Skill at LVL 1. Unless…"

His gaze flicked to Stick, studying him like a puzzle piece that didn't fit. Could it be?

"Unbound…" Hirohiro confirmed Stick's suspicion. "Never heard that one before."

That word again. There was always something with his class. Every Player, no matter their LVL, seemed to have a problem with the way it worked. He still didn't understand why. What was so different about him? He had no reference for what was normal in this system, but somehow, his [Class] kept sidestepping the rules. This time, though, it seemed more of a hindrance than a boon. What's up with that?

Hirohiro took a deep breath. "That's not good."

"What isn't?" Stick asked warily.

"Skills give Players an edge over mobs. Without one, this might be difficult."

Stick's pulse quickened. "Really? Can't you help me?"

Hirohiro shrugged. "Kind of defeats the purpose, wouldn't you say?"

Stick lowered his head. Great. First real fight, and I'm already at a disadvantage.

"Stick Man," Big Man's voice rumbled. "Don't overthink. Keep your weapon raised. Stay on your toes. Hit hard, and you'll break through its shield."

Stick nodded hesitantly. "I know, but I've never fought with a sword before."

Big Man smirked. "Don't worry, you're hard to hit. I would know."

Stick grimaced at the reminder of their previous fight. "Yeah, but…"

Hirohiro interjected. "If things get out of control, we'll be right here."

Stick inhaled deeply, steadying himself. "Okay."

He stepped out from behind the wall, gripping his sword tightly. His Life Points were full. I can do this.

The Goblin Grunt immediately noticed him. Its beady yellow eyes locked onto him, letting out a guttural shriek as it brandished its rusted weapon.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"You're in its Aggro Range," Hirohiro called out. "It attacks if you wait or get closer. Your choice."

Stick clenched his jaw, planting his feet. He wasn't going to let fear dictate his actions. If it was going to attack, then he would brace himself for it. The Goblin snarled, waving its weapon erratically in the air as if to intimidate him. Stick's hands tightened around the hilt. Sweat dampened his palms, but he didn't back down.

The Goblin's patience wore thin. With a screech, it lunged at him. It was smaller than him, but it moved with a wiry agility that made his stomach tighten. Here we go!

The goblin lunged, swinging wildly. Stick barely dodged, instinct kicking in, but his stance faltered. He'd expected a clumsy, sluggish enemy—this thing was fast.

"Watch its patterns!" Hirohiro called out. "It's got a predictable attack cycle!"

Stick didn't have time to reply. The goblin struck again, and he barely managed to bring up his sword in time. The impact sent a shockwave up his arms, but it wasn't a clean block—his feet slid in the loose dirt, and he staggered back.

"Too slow," Hirohiro muttered under his breath, watching intently.

The goblin pressed its advantage, striking again and again. Stick was forced to stay on the defensive, dodging and blocking while struggling to find an opening. Every time he tried to counter, the goblin darted away, only to strike again from another angle. His breath came in quick bursts.

"You're letting it control the fight!" Big Man called out. "Take the initiative!"

Stick gritted his teeth. He had no special skills, no techniques—just a sword and a body running on adrenaline. But he had to fight. He had to win.

He took a step forward, raising his sword high and swinging down with everything he had. The goblin screeched, twisting away at the last moment. His blade barely nicked its shoulder, a thin red line blooming on green skin. The goblin stumbled—but recovered fast. It bared its jagged teeth, snarling.

Stick didn't let up. He swung again, lower this time. The goblin parried, its crude weapon shaking on impact—but Stick felt it. He was stronger. The goblin's knees bent slightly from the force, its feet digging into the ground.

"Good! Break its stance!" Hirohiro shouted.

Stick exhaled sharply and pressed forward, slamming his boot into the goblin's shin. The creature yelped in pain, losing balance for just a second. That was enough. Now!

With a roar, Stick brought his sword down again, striking across the goblin's chest. The blade bit deep, cutting through its crude leather armor. The goblin let out a strangled cry, its body convulsing before collapsing onto the dirt.

Stick stood there, panting, his arms trembling from exertion.

"Well done." Hirohiro nodded approvingly, stepping out from behind cover. "It took longer than it should have, but you got the job done."

Stick swallowed, his heart still hammering. "That was… intense."

"Because you're untrained," Hirohiro said. "Your swings were wild. You relied on brute force instead of technique. If that goblin were a higher LVL, you'd be dead."

Stick wiped the sweat from his brow. "Thanks for the pep talk."

A rustling sound. Stick's head snapped up.

Two more goblins crept out from behind a ruined building.

"Goblins rarely travel alone," Big Man commented.

Stick took a deep breath, raising his sword. His arms still ached, but he planted his feet.

"Alright," he said, voice steady. "Let's go."

Stick's breath came fast and uneven as he turned to face the two new goblins. A quick inspection revealed them to be a [LVL 1] and [LVL 2] Goblin Grunt. His chest tightened.

"Time to see what you're made of, hero," Hirohiro said, ducking behind the wall with Big Man once again.

That little goblinshit.

But Stick had no time to fume. The LVL 2 goblin lunged—and this time, he was ready. He dodged, raising his sword in a crude but effective block. Hirohiro watched with a critical eye as Stick adjusted to the goblin's movements, his counterstrikes growing sharper, more decisive.

Then the second goblin attacked.

Stick barely had time to react before a dagger stabbed into his side. A sudden jolt of pain shot through his ribs. Even without glancing at his Status, he knew his Life Points were draining. Stick quickly realized that blocking from two sides at once was impossible. Gritting his teeth, he leapt back and broke into a sprint.

"What are you doing?" Nakamura yelled. "We can't see you from there!"

Stick ignored him. He had a plan.

He darted toward the crumbling remains of a house, spotting a small hole in the wall—just big enough for a goblin. Perfect.

Slamming into the rotting door, he put all his weight behind the hit. To his surprise, the lock snapped instantly, sending the door swinging open with a groan. Stick tumbled inside, hitting the dusty floor hard. Coughing from the stirred-up dust, he scrambled to his feet and refocused. No time.

The goblins were closing in. The LVL 1 Goblin reached the entrance first—just as Stick slammed the door in its face. A muffled screech erupted from the other side, followed by frantic scratching. The goblin outside shoved against the door, trying to force it open, but Stick held firm. Then the noise stopped.

Stick knew that he had to run to the hole in the wall immediately. As he had thought, it was too small for a human to squeeze through, but the LVL 2 Goblin's head popped out of the wall. Stick didn't hesitate. He thrust his sword straight into the creature's skull, and with a sickening crunch, the Goblin Grunt collapsed. Without pause, he pulled his sword free and turned back to the door, ready to finish off the other goblin. But when he grabbed the handle, it wouldn't budge. What the hell?

He yanked again. Nothing. He noticed the door had tilted slightly. Crouching, he spotted a dagger jammed beneath it. The LVL 1 Goblin had locked him in. His moment of disbelief was interrupted by the sound of shifting debris in the back of the ruin. Another entrance?

But it was worse than that. When his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, his blood turned to ice. [LVL 7 Goblin Shaman].

The creature had just awoken from its slumber, and it now stared at him with wide, glowing eyes. Shit.

He spun back to the door, yanking at it desperately. No use. He'd have to rip it from its hinges, and he didn't have time. A chilling chant echoed through the ruin.

The Goblin Shaman screeched and took a step forward, its hands glowing with eerie, green energy. Stick lunged for the hole in the wall, shoving at the dead goblin's body—but something pushed back from the other side. That goblinshit!

Stick turned just in time to see the Shaman release a burst of light. It spread out wildly before morphing into dark sludge. Stick dodged, rolling to the side, but a few drops landed on his right arm. Fuck!

Pain. Immediate and searing. His muscles spasmed. His sword clattered to the floor. He hissed, trying to wipe the substance off with his left hand, but the sludge burned there, too, with a sickening hiss. Acid!

His chest heaved. His vision blurred.

"Big Man!" Stick shouted, his voice raw. "Hirohiro!"

No answer.

His pulse pounded in his ears.

The Shaman chanted again.

Stick crawled backward, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. He barely had the strength to push himself away, pain ripping through his trembling limbs with every movement. The Shaman's hand lit up again. There was no way Stick had enough Protection to save himself. The next one's fatal.

Tears stung his eyes.

"Big Man!" he yelled. "Please!"

To no avail.

No one was coming.

The Shaman stepped closer. Its glowing hand rose higher—ready to strike. Stick's back hit the far wall. Trapped. No! By myself!

He braced himself and with all his might he kicked the wall to his right, propelling his body sideways. The acid splashed where he'd just been. Stick tried to push himself up with his left hand, but pain flared again, sending him crashing to his shoulder. The LVL 7 foe chanted faster. Stick clenched his teeth and forced himself up. The glowing hand shot forward.

He charged. This is my only chance.

With a raw, desperate roar, Stick slammed his fist into the Shaman's face. The creature shrieked, its spell disrupting mid-cast. It stumbled, reaching for a dagger—

Stick was already sprinting past it. My sword!

He scanned the ground. Nothing. Where did it go?

His mind flashed too late—Inventory.

Before he could reach for his Menu, the Shaman whirled toward the door, hand glowing once more.

Then—

A heavy thud.

The door shook violently.

The Shaman ignored it, shrieking as it hurled another wave of acid.

The door exploded inward.

Sunlight flooded the room, momentarily blinding Stick and the Shaman.

Wood splintered. Acid splashed uselessly against the falling door.

A silhouetted figure stepped inside, framed by the light.

"Away, you insolent pest!" an unknown voice rang out.

Stick barely had time to react before the sound of steel met flesh—a rapid, merciless flurry. The Shaman screeched, its cries cut short. When Stick's vision cleared, the creature lay still. Blood pooled beneath it. The figure in front of him already started clearing the blood off its resplendent armor, which gleamed in the sunlight. Who-?

"Has harm befallen you, young one?" the knight asked, calmly wiping his blade clean. "Do not fret, for you are under the protection of House Blitz now."