Mountain Village

He could sense the predators within the river, their eyes fixed on him, anticipating the moment he would enter the water, eager to tear him apart and feast on his flesh.

As he stepped into the river, the sudden shift in his aura, the raw power emanating from him, alerted the crocodiles. Before his feet were fully submerged, a sharp, vise-like grip clamped down on his leg.

The monster's body erupted from the water, a colossal crocodile measuring six meters in length.

It clamped down on Xerxes's legs with a force that threatened to shatter his bones, dragging him inexorably into the murky depths.

Xerxes, though in excruciating pain, was ready to fight back. But before he could retaliate, his leg was severed with a sickening snap.

The crocodile began to chew on the severed limb, savouring the bloody feast. Another crocodile, equally massive, emerged from the depths and lunged at Xerxes, aiming for his arms.

Xerxes, shocked by the sudden loss of his leg and enduring the searing pain, couldn't help but smirk as the crocodile lunged. "That was a stupid move," he muttered.

The attacking crocodile froze mid-air, its eyes widening in terror. In a flash, it was engulfed by a surge of energy, its body dissolving into a torrent of energy that was absorbed by Xerxes.

A wave of warmth surged through him as his severed leg began to regenerate, growing back at an astonishing rate. The second crocodile, which had just devoured his leg, recoiled in fear, its eyes bulging.

Witnessing this terrifying display, the other crocodiles and the myriad of fish panicked, fleeing the scene in a frenzy.

The first crocodile, the one that had initiated the attack, found itself trapped in the jaws of a newly transformed Xerxes, a monstrous hybrid creature born from the fusion of man, wolf, and now, crocodile.

Xerxes felt a powerful tail erupt from his spine, extending outwards like a whip. His fur was replaced by a thick, impenetrable shell, rigid and unyielding. He felt a surge of power, his strength amplified twofold.

He had no intention of quickly dispatching the crocodile. Instead, he propelled himself through the water with astonishing speed, dragging the massive reptile out of the river and onto the riverbank.

The crocodile thrashed violently, desperate to break free from Xerxes's iron grip. With a grunt of exertion, Xerxes hurled the creature towards a nearby tree, where it became entangled in the branches.

The river fell still, the monstrous crocodiles within it now wary of Xerxes. The crocodiles entangled in the trees thrashed violently, trying to break free, but its efforts were futile. Xerxes ignored it, his gaze drawn to the opposite bank of the river.

He recalled the entire incident, remembering how just one night ago, while returning from school, he had somehow found himself lost in this vast, dense forest.

Though he felt that the way leading to the left of him might lead towards a human settlement, he still felt unease as he didn't know where he was.

Moving towards the hung crocodile, he placed his hand on its tail. In an instant, the six-meter behemoth dissolved, its mass absorbed into Xerxes's own.

"Now it's even," he scoffed, a grim satisfaction in his voice. "You ate my leg, and I've consumed you whole."

With that, he set off on the path leading into the unknown, his heart filled with a mixture of trepidation and resolve.

After a long, arduous three-hour journey, the darkness finally began to dissipate, and the first rays of sunlight pierced the horizon.

As the dawn broke, Xerxes found himself at the top of a mountain, while at the foot of the mountain was a small village.

Suddenly, a wave of powerful emotions washed over him. A yearning for home, a longing for familiarity, surged through him.

"What is this place?"

he wondered, gazing down at the collection of mud huts. "Are they some isolated tribe, still untouched by the modern world?"

"I'll find out soon enough," he mused, a flicker of hope igniting within him. "Hope I'm still somewhere on earth."

Although he had doubt in his mind, he was still hoping that this was not true and he could return back to his home.

Unlike before, when he had moved slowly while emerging from the forest, Xerxes now descended the mountain with a determined pace. Within two hours, he reached the edge of the village.

His eyes fell upon a man working on a fence, shaping it from wood. "He's wearing some strange clothes," Xerxes observed. "Still tribal, but not fully tribal."

The man wore pants on his lower half but an animal skin draped over his shoulders, his attention focused on sharpening the fence post.

Xerxes decided to approach the man. As he drew closer, the man looked up, his eyes widening in caution.

He scrutinized Xerxes, his gaze lingering on the torn pants and the pristine, unmarked skin exposed above.

"Excuse..." Xerxes began, but the man dropped his tools and sprinted towards the village.

Xerxes stood dumbfounded, watching the man flee as if he'd seen a ghost. Just then, a group of villagers, both men and women, began to arrive, one after another.

Among them was a man, more elaborately clothed than the others, wearing a turban adorned with a collection of animal teeth.

"This must be the Head of the village," Xerxes thought, observing the incoming villagers.

The man in the middle-scrutinized Xerxes for a moment, then spoke slowly, "How can we help you, sir? How did you end up in our poor village in such a condition?"

Every villager was looking at Xerxes with wary eyes. The main reason was his appearance, which matched that of city dwellers.

Noticing this, the Village Chief spoke, "Please, sir, don't mind their stares. They are poor villagers and haven't seen many people from the cities."

"Cities? " Xerxes asked, bewildered. "Can you tell me where I am? I seem to be lost and have no idea of my surroundings."

The Village Chief pondered for a moment, then invited Xerxes inside the village. However, the villagers maintained a respectful distance, their eyes still filled with curiosity.

"You see the mountain at the back of the village," the Village Chief began, "it is called Mistwood Forest, and the forest in the front is called Mist Land. Right now, you are in one of the Mist Villages."

"Mist Villages? So, there are more villages like this?" Xerxes asked as he followed the village chief.

"Yes, more like a tribe, we say," the village chief replied. "There are a total of nine tribes here in Mist Land, and right now, you are in the Tribe of the Mountain."

Xerxes nodded in understanding. The more he learned, the more he felt that he indeed wasn't in his world, but somewhere in a different one.

They entered the hut of the village chief. "Please have a seat," the village chief said, gesturing towards a small stool.

He then looked at a young girl, around Xerxes's age. "Fia, bring something to eat for the visitor."

The girl had light brown skin and curly hair. Unlike the other villagers, she didn't have a wary look on her face when she looked at Xerxes.

"Yes, Grandfather," she replied, nodding her head.

"Why are the villagers so wary of me?" Xerxes asked the Village Chief, "Don't the people of this village have contact with outsiders?"

[Read author's note for more detail]