Chapter 2: FRIH - 2
Rustle rustle~
The nearby bushes stirred, leaves whispering. Whether from the breeze or something else, Ronan couldn't tell at first, but his senses sharpened. The usual calm vanished, replaced by alertness. His posture shifted, muscles tensing, eyes narrowing.
The vast forest had thus far proven empty of human life. No travelers, merchants, wanderers, or even bandits, only endless trees and their inhabitants. Yet, it teemed with life, strange, powerful beasts. Saber-toothed tigers had stalked him, griffins soared overhead. This world's ecosystem was different; everything was larger, stronger, more magical.
This was another world.
"Coming out?"
His voice, steady, cut through the stillness. He waited, eyes fixed on the rustling bushes. Silence returned.
He stood, brushing off grass and bark. His clothes were simple, practical, garments suited to wandering. He drew his longsword, found days ago, inexplicably lodged in a cave stone. The unmarked blade was razor-sharp, perfectly balanced, its craftsmanship unparalleled. Holding it felt strangely familiar, though he knew it wasn't originally his.
He cautiously approached the bushes, senses alert. A flicker of memory stopped him. He activated his x-ray vision, the foliage becoming transparent.
He saw a small girl, or, looking closer, a small girl with pointed ears, crouched, holding a basket.
Pointed ears? An elf?
His brow furrowed. The connection was instant. Elves in his past life were always portrayed the same way: elegant, aloof, long-lived, and identified by their pointed ears. Goblins sometimes had pointed ears too, but...
There were no goblins this pretty.