Episode 1: Northern Front
I met up with a friend after a long time, ignored my drinking limit, and passed out from chugging booze like there was no tomorrow. When I woke up, I found myself as the eldest son of a count’s family.
“What the hell?”
I later learned that the person I’d possessed was named Ian Baltazar, the eldest son of the cursed and darkly infamous House of Baltazar.
When I first heard the family name, it felt like déjà vu—familiar yet elusive, like something I’d heard before but couldn’t quite place.
That vague feeling turned into certainty when I met my so-called younger sister.
“Congrats on your broken engagement, you idiot of a brother.”
That cheeky comment came from none other than the so-called younger sister of the body I’d possessed.
Siblings are usually known to throw insults at each other, but this one felt different. If most sibling relationships could be called love-hate, this one was more like pure hatred. She looked at me like I’d ruined the family by gambling on illegal betting sites.
“What do you mean, broken engagement?”
“Ha! Are you pretending to forget now? Just get lost. You’re disgusting.”
My sister stormed off, shoving my shoulder without answering my question. After she left, I turned to the attendant trailing behind me.
“Who was that again?”
“…That was Lady Sylvia Baltazar, your younger sister, my lord.”
Sylvia Baltazar.
The moment I heard her name, my déjà vu solidified into certainty.
The Baltazar family was from a game I used to play.
Trying to deny the possibility creeping into my mind, I asked the attendant,
“Is the head of the family named Tirian Baltazar?”
“…Yes, that is correct.”
Sure, some names might overlap, but having both the head of the house and his children share the same names as in the game was too much of a coincidence.
I checked the family tree, still clinging to denial. It wasn’t just the head or my sister’s name. My cousin was “Emilio,” my uncle was “Gerhardt.” And then there was the family motto:
“Even if the soul breaks, the bloodline continues.”
Every little detail matched the setting of the game I played.
I clutched my head and let out a hollow laugh.
If I’d been isekai’d into a game, I could’ve dreamed of using my game knowledge to thrive—except this wasn’t that kind of game. It was a soul-crushing, dark fantasy Souls-like game.
I’d died thousands of times just to barely clear it once. And now I was supposed to live through that?
After much deliberation, I made my decision.
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The Baltazar family was doomed to fall.
The mad head of the family, having lost his wife, would turn every member into monsters.
No matter what choices the player made, the outcome was always the same: Tirian Baltazar, the insane patriarch, would inevitably transform everyone into monsters.
Staying here meant becoming a monster or getting eaten by the ones who did.
That night, I snuck into the armory and took a leather armor and a steel sword.
Sylvia caught me as I tried to leave the family estate.
“Where do you think you’re going? When all else fails, you’re running away now? You’ve really hit rock bottom.”
“This family is doomed. I’m getting out before it happens. Sylvia, come with me.”
If she stayed, Sylvia would almost certainly become a monster too. Her eyes widened in fury.
“What the hell did you do to our family? Answer me!”
“I…”
I opened my mouth to explain but quickly shut it. Sylvia wasn’t going to believe a word I said. Trying to convince her now would be a waste of time.
“Take care.”
Sylvia didn’t try to stop me. That night, I left the Baltazar family behind.
***
After leaving, I headed north. For the past 400 years, since the first Demonic Beast appeared, the north had been overrun with monsters.
In the game, the central empire held the northern front, keeping other nations safe.
But by the mid-to-late game, the northern front collapses, the empire falls, and the entire continent gets overrun by monsters.
I tossed kindling into the campfire. I didn’t delude myself into thinking I could do anything alone. Clearing the game once or twice didn’t mean I could pull it off in real life. But that wasn’t a reason to stay put.
To survive in a continent on the brink of collapse, getting stronger was an absolute necessity.
“Damn it, what am I supposed to do if I can only learn Aura Technique up there?”
Aura Technique.
It was a new power devised by humanity, driven to the edge of extinction after the first demonic beast appeared.
By accumulating an energy called “Aura” in the body, one could wield superhuman strength.
Designed to fight monsters, Aura Technique could only be learned in the monster-infested north. There was the option of the Academy, but enrolling required the backing of a noble family. Either way, it meant I had no choice but to head to the northern frontlines.
“Enlisting twice? I’m losing my mind.”
It’s crap. But if I didn’t do at least this much, surviving in a continent that was about to descend into absolute chaos would be impossible.
When the Central Empire falls, lunatics will fill the power vacuum:
Monsters with intelligence, cults trying to turn people into monsters, and foreign heretics from the East.
How the hell am I going to survive this?
***
As if to prove it was a grimdark fantasy world, the journey North was long and brutal.
I ran into bandits, and sometimes monsters.
“Hey, you! Hand over all your money!”
“Grrraaah!”
Each time, I either ran like hell or, with a heavy heart, drew the sword I’d stolen. I’d never properly swung a sword in my life, but strangely, my body seemed to know swordsmanship.
It dawned on me later that the Baltazar family was a prestigious knightly house.
Though they never produced an Aura user, they had a long history of exceptional knights. The swordsmanship Ian Baltazar had trained in since childhood must be ingrained in this body.
Still, since I hadn’t personally trained, it was tough.
Hesitation cost me dearly—times when I could’ve killed but got stabbed or had my arm bitten instead.
Each time, I clung to my wits and wildly thrust my sword. Maybe this body had physical talent, because with every near-death experience, my swordsmanship grew sharper.
By the time my body was covered in scars, I could cut down bandits without a scratch.
“Just a bit further. Just a little more…”
I looked at the map and shut my mouth. The central empire, 77.8 times the size of the Korean peninsula, was ridiculously far from the northern front.
Damn it. Why isn’t there a bus or something? Even a carriage didn’t make it any less far.
***
After a year and a half, the journey to the north finally showed signs of ending.
Having survived countless battles, I looked like a beggar.
My unkempt beard stuck out in all directions, and my leather armor was in tatters.
Even my once-prized Balthazar sword was chipped.
I stopped in a village for repairs.
At the blacksmith, I bought a new set of leather armor and a steel sword.
Thanks to all the bandits and monsters I’d taken down, money wasn’t an issue.
While climbing a snowy mountain, I spotted a carriage under attack by a monsters.
The closer I got to the north, the more monsters I encountered. Deciding to help in hopes of hitching a ride, I charged in.
“Ugh, aaagh!”
“Monsters!!”
The creature looked like a wolf but distorted, like a child had sculpted it out of clay.
It was a monster you’d encounter on the front lines, but this one was far weaker than average.
That’s probably how it made it past the defenses.
I spun to the side, cut off its front leg, rolled through the snow, and severed its neck.
Having mastered the Baltazar family’s swordsmanship, a monster like this was easy.
“Sorry, but could I hitch a ride on your carriage—”
“Thank you, thank you! You saved the young lady!”
“…What?”
I turned to see a woman with fiery red hair slumped on the ground. I just wanted a ride, but…?
Turns out, the attacked carriage belonged to the daughter of the Nordelheim ducal family.
She was delivering an urgent letter and had set out without escorts.
Luckily, our destinations matched, and I was able to join her.
“Sir Savior, is there a reason you’re heading to the northern front?”
“To kill monsters.”
“Wow, that’s great! I’ll ask my father to help!”
Wait, something’s going wrong here. By the time I realized it, it was too late.
“Thank you for saving my daughter. You came to protect the north, right? Haha! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you can shine!”
Ian Baltazar.
Assigned to the front lines.
Can I somehow increase the text size?
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