A concerned female voice echoed through a candlelit room. "Will he be alright, Maester Roland?"
The Maester, an elderly man with white hair littered all over his auburn hair, replied, "He'll be fine–now that I've expelled the poison from his body and should wake within the hour."
"Many thanks, Maester Roland."
Moving his attention from the young man lying on the bed to the girl beside him, Maester Roland said, "I'll–take my leave now."
Seeing the girl about to escort him to the door, Maester Roland waved his hands dismissively. "That will be unnecessary, child. Keep an eye on him and report to me as soon as possible should things go awry."
Heavy silence descended over the room, after the door clicked shut, signalling the maester's departure.
Then the faint groan of a wooden chair punctuated the silence briefly as the girl sat close to the bed.
Despite the assurance from maester Roland, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of doubt growing within her when she stared at the young man lying still on the bed.
Clenching her fist, she murmured, "Please be okay, Ethan."
———
The first thing Ethan felt when he regained consciousness was a piercing headache, like crashing waves battering the base of his skull, relentless and deafening.
The intense pain coupled with the inability to move caused his thoughts to run hectically.
'Did I just pass out from too much gaming? I should really stop playing games into the night. Almost died from a heart attack, now my body won't even move.'
As he cycled through these thoughts, time passed by. After a while, he tried lifting his limb again, but still found himself unable to do so. Almost like an invincible hand was pinning him down.
No, it felt more like his limbs were refusing to obey him.
With no option left but to endure the pain, he lay still and let whatever was happening to him run its course.
And that it did, but as the minutes rolled by, the pain intensified until it reached a tipping point, from which it eased gently. Giving rise to a clear and serene state of mind.
Careful not to get his hopes up and end up dashing it, Ethan lay in wait for a few more minutes before attempting to move again.
His eyes fluttered open to a hazy swirl of candle light and shadows. Slowly sitting up, an ecstatic voice broke through his scrambled thoughts.
"Oh, Ethan, you're awake!"
The girl seated beside him gasped, relief washing over her face as she threw herself at him, wrapping him in a tight embrace.
Before Ethan could wrap his mind around what was happening, a jolt of pain ran through his body.
Wincing, he tapped the girl. "I... can't... breathe."
Flushing crimson, the girl let go.
With confusion still etched on his face, Ethan quickly surveyed the room. 'This doesn't look like any hospital? Or my room so then – where am I?'
Noticing the girl's sharp gaze, he turned to face her, locking eyes with her sea blue eyes.
Opening his mouth to ask the question on his mind, disjointed memory fragments flooded his mind. As he pieced the fragments together, his eyes slowly widened in horror.
'Did I just die?' A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. 'No, that's impossible. This has to be a dream... or maybe a side effect of last night's heart attack.'
As if reading his thoughts, a regal blue screen materialized in his vision:
[This is not a dream, nor a side effect. Everything around you is real.]
Staring blankly at the words, he closed his eyes, slowly rubbing his temple like it would clear what he hoped was an illusion.
When he opened them again, the screen was still there staring back at him with a new message, almost like it was mocking his intelligence:
[Welcome to Vaeloria, Player 5.]
Staring at the words, Ethan's eyes widened.
'Vaeloria?'
Unable to sit still and watch Ethan's constantly shifting expression, the girl beside him leaned forward, worry etched on her face as she pressed the back of her hand on his forehead.
"Are you feeling okay, Ethan?"
Taking a deep breath to stabilise himself, Ethan gazed at the girl with a tone of measured assurance. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just can't seem to remember anything. Most especially, where am I and who am I?"
Clenching her fists, the girls face scrunched up in fury. 'If I find whoever did this...'
Exhaling softly, her expression softened as she looked at Ethan, "You're in Cross village, and your name is Ethan Cross."
Stroking his chin, he mused inwardly. 'Hmm, it seems I transmigrated into a body with the same name. Wait a minute... isn't Cross village the name of my village in Rise of empire?'
Before he could further dissect the new information, the girl spoke again. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Nodding in affirmation, he put his conjectures aside.
Pushing himself off the bed with as much effort as he could muster, his legs unsteady as they met the wooden floorboards.
A wave of dizziness hit him, and he staggered slightly. The girl stood up immediately, gripping his arm to steady him.
Her hands trembled slightly, her voice steadier than her expression. "Easy, Ethan. Don't put too much stress on your body
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Ethan stood up right, the dizziness slowly fading away.
The girl holding his arms watched him closely, her brows furrowed with concern. "Are you sure you should be moving?"
"I'll be fine."
Ethan assured her, though he wasn't entirely convinced himself. "I need to find out what exactly is going on."
She hesitated for a moment, before nodding. "Alright. Let's go to the village elder council, they will explain everything."
As she slowly lead him toward the door, his sense of smell kicked in as the scent of herbs and woodsmoke thick in the air reached him.
The moment they stepped outside, the cool morning breeze carried the distant sound of low mournful murmurs.
Ethan squinted his eyes, adjusting to the low ambient light outside.
The village wasn't large—just a collection of wooden houses, a farmland in the distance, and a central square where smoke from burnt-out torches drifted through the air.
Villagers gathered in groups, from old to young, male to female, whispering among themselves, their faces marked with sorrow and unease.
A wiry middle-aged man with a long white beard, walked through an opening in the crowd. As soon as he saw Ethan, his expression shifted—a mixture of relief and sadness.
Bowing slightly, the girl beside Ethan greeted the middle-aged man. "Elder Morris."
Morris acknowledged the girl, before facing Ethan. "You're awake, gods be blessed."
Despite his voice sounding steady, there was an undertone of heaviness in it.
That was when it finally dawned on Ethan, the palpable tension in the air, the sorrowful glances—it was the same atmosphere he had seen in the game after losing key NPCs.
Despite knowing the question, he asked, "What happened?"
Morris sighed deeply. "Your father, Chief Leonard Cross, he couldn't make it. The poison was too severe and he died before dawn. I'm sorry Ethan."
Ethan's breath shook slightly. His father? The man he had never met—but whose name he now carried?
The girl beside him squeezed his hands gently, turning to look at her, he smiled wearily in reassurance.
"I… see," Ethan murmured, trying as much as he can to feel sorrowful. He wanted to feel something, but the weight of this new reality despite having settled left him with an out of body sensation.
Morris continued, "The village cannot remain without a leader. The council has gathered to appoint a new chief. You were his only son, naturally the position now falls on you."
Looking at Morris in shock, Ethan opened his mouth to counter, but Morris beat him to it. "Come now Ethan, time waits for no one."
Watching Morris walk toward a brick building a few blocks from the village square, Ethan followed suit.
Inside the building, three elders sat around a crudely built table. The scent of old parchment, burning candles, and aged wood filled the room.
One of the elders, a stout woman with piercing eyes, spoke first. "Leonard was a good chief. Moreso a good friend. As his council, we must decide who will take his place."
Morris and the one of the male elders nodded in accord, while the last one an elderly man with a scar running across his face frowned slightly.
Morris spoke again. "There's nothing to decide. As Leonard's first and only son, Ethan has the right to take his father's place."
The man with a scar cut in, his face frowning in distaste. "He's too young to lead, someone should rule in his stead until he comes of age."
Morris glared at the man. "You didn't have that to say when he toiled the village farm or went with the hunters on trips."
Snorting, the man shifting his gaze towards Ethan. Leaning back with a low growl.
Sweeping his gaze across the room, Morris asked, "Does anyone object?"
The stout woman shook her head. "I don't."
The second, a brown haired middle-aged man with a scholarly look, agreed, "Neither do I."
Watching the whole procedure moving forward without a sitch, Ethan's mind raced.
This was moving too fast. He had just woken up in this world, and now they wanted him to lead a village?
"I… don't know if I'm the right person for this," Ethan stuttered in admission.
The stout woman crossed her hands atop the table. "Maybe you are, maybe you're not. But the people need leadership. And you are Leonard's only son."
Morris nodded. "Then it's settled. In accordance with the old laws, Ethan Cross is now the Chief of Cross village."