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Grimm: Ch. 2
🕑 Added 2024-12-04 01:52:38 +0000 UTC---Third POV---
Thud, thud, thud…
"Ahhhhh!!"
"Oh no, run for your lives!"
The surroundings erupted in chaos as thundering hooves approached.
Bodies collided and trampled one another in blind panic. A child stumbled and disappeared under the stampeding crowd, their scream cut short by the crush of fleeing feet.
Blood and mud mixed beneath the mass of desperate humanity.
"Argh!"
A pregnant woman was knocked to the ground by the surging crowd. Clutching her stomach desperately, she lay in pain, reaching toward those ahead. But her outstretched hand was soon crushed under boots and bare feet alike.
Bones cracked as the mob pressed forward, heedless of those who fell.
She could only curl up on the ground in a pitiful heap, trying to protect her swollen belly.
"Run! Run, you worthless Midor scum! Just keep fleeing for your lives! I'm not done playing yet!" The leading horseman's sword stained red as he cut down a fleeing farmer. "Look how they scatter like rats! Which one should we gut first?"
"The fat one! He'll squeal louder!" Another raider laughed, spurring his horse forward to chase down his chosen prey.
"Hahaha!"
The raiders' laughter echoed across the field as they carved through the crowd.
Steel flashed and blood sprayed as they played their cruel game, treating human lives as mere entertainment.
Inside the womb, I felt her turmoil and fear deeply as she fell. I stirred uncomfortably.
This time, there was even less space to move, as though another child had also sensed our mother's despair and was also restlessly agitated.
Slash!
A blade opened a man from shoulder to hip, his intestines spilling onto the muddy ground.
Whiz!
Crossbow bolts rained down, finding homes in backs, throats, and faces of the fleeing villagers.
Clang!
A farmer's pitchfork met a raider's sword briefly before both weapon and wielder were cut down.
"Please, spare me!"
"I beg you…"
"Please, my child—" A woman's plea ended in a wet gurgle as hooves trampled her into the mud.
Screams and the sounds of slaughter filled the field as bodies fell onto the blood-soaked earth.
The peaceful countryside had turned into hell.
"They're all dead! What a delightful hunt!"
"Damn, I'm not even satisfied yet!"
"Why don't we hang them up? These dumb Midor fools. String them from the trees as a warning!"
"This is what happens when you cross us…"
"Hahaha!"
The soldiers laughed as they surveyed their handiwork, bodies strewn across the field like broken dolls.
---Grimm's POV---
Pain, despair, and a longing to survive.
These thoughts surfaced in my mind. What was once a warm haven now brought suffocating dread.
Must move... must live... Driven by instinct, I moved downward, struggling to escape to survive.
But it wasn't just me.
The other child sharing the womb had the same idea, kicking my shoulder to push themselves downward. As if one kick wasn't enough, they planted a foot on my face.
Unable to endure this any longer, I adjusted my position and retaliated with a push to their backside. Even here, we fought to survive.
Plop!
Splash!
"Waaaah! Waaah!"
A baby's scream cut through the carnage. A new life dropped into mud and blood.
Splash.
Following the first child's tumble, I slid down along the same path, landing on top of them before rolling to the side. The metallic taste of blood mixed with mud filled my mouth.
"Waaaah! Waaah!"
The warmth of sunlight and the discomfort of water filling my nose, mouth, and ears were overwhelming. I cried instinctively.
Where am I? Why does this feel like… I've turned into a baby?
"Waaaah! Waaah!"
The other child, seemingly in pain from the impact, cried non-stop as well. Whether it was contagious or not, I couldn't help crying either.
Both of us, however, were weak and soon fell asleep after crying for a while.
Meanwhile, hoofbeats approached in the distance—a team of about a hundred riders, their armor marked with the scars of frequent combat.
"Hey! Look over there!"
"Captain! There's movement in the bodies!"
"Probably just rats feeding..." the captain muttered, but steered his horse closer anyway.
The sound of hooves stopped nearby as the mercenary captain surveyed the grim scene around him. His gaze fell on the infants.
"Oh… how pitiful."
Thud, thud, thud.
"Hey, Shirley?"
"Ah…"
"…"
The man fell silent, watching his companion cradle the blood-covered infants.
"How tragic… Ever since she miscarried three days ago, she's been acting strangely." one whispered to another, keeping his voice low.
"That's your child, right, Gunther?"
"Shut up. How would I know?" Gunther replied impatiently.
"Shhh… Shhh…" The woman called Shirley continued comforting the infants in her arms, humming softly.
"Shirley! How long are you going to hold onto them?"
"Stop it! They are already dead!"
Gunther grabbed Shirley's arm roughly, causing the infants to fall back into the mud.
Splash.
They both landed in the bloody water.
"Ah!" Shirley lunged forward, intent on picking us up again.
"Ugh, cough, cough… Waaah!"
"Hey…"
"Hey! Those brats are alive!"
Seizing the moment when Gunther was stunned, she rushed forward and scooped the infants up once more, pressing them to her chest.
"Leave them, Shirley. They're born from death." Gunther's voice was hard.
Shirley responded by clutching us tighter.
"She hasn't been right since..."
"I know. Let her have this."
The caravan resumed its journey, wagons creaking through the carnage.
"Hey, Gunther, are you sure about this?"
"I don't care. Let her do as she pleases." Gunther's response was indifferent, though Shirley's rare display of gentleness seemed to amuse him.
"Born in a battlefield? It's an omen," an old veteran muttered, eyeing the infants warily.
"Of what?"
"Nothing good comes from death's womb."
Soft murmurs spread among the group.
"What is it?"
"Isn't this kind of ominous? Picking up babies in a place like this…"
"…"
"Hahaha… Are you all scared?"
"No… That's not what we meant…"
"If we leave them, they'll die soon anyway. Until then, let them bring some comfort to her!"
"Alright, enough chatter. Let's move."
In the wagon, Shirley was joyfully tending to the infants in her arms, her happiness bringing a rare warmth to the otherwise tense group.
---
Barely conscious, I instinctively drank the milk that sustained my fragile life. My parched throat felt salvation with every desperate gulp.
[System initializing, checking host status...]
[Host status: Healthy.]
[Integrating soul into this world...]
[Bond acquired: Chosen One (Annual stat growth: +1 to all attributes).]
[System loading...]
[Character Status:
Name: Grimm
Age: 0
Level: 0 (XP: 0/10)
HP: 47/47]
[Attributes
Strength: 1
Agility: 2
Intelligence: 0 (Brain under development, prone to prolonged sleep)
Charisma: 2]
[Skills]
[Throwing +2]
[Running +3]
[Looting +2]
[Tactics +2]
[Inventory Management +2]
[Surgery +1]
[First Aid +2]
[Captive Management +2]
[Trading +1]
[Persuasion +2]
[Weapon Proficiency: All at 0]
Stats? Even in this hellish world, game logic follows...
[To better acclimate the host to the world's difficulty, the Trial Realm will be activated.]
[Initializing Trial Realm...]
Before I could process the information, a dazzling white light flashed through my mind.
Overwhelmed by fatigue, I found myself immersed in a strange sea of consciousness. The world around me was a boundless expanse of blue, populated by countless scarecrow-like training dummies.
[Initializing basic combat training protocol...]
[Commencing swordsmanship data transfer...]
Instead of a physical trainer, a stream of combat techniques was forcibly implanted into my memory.
Though swift, the transfer was excruciating. Crying out in agony, I fell into another deep sleep.
When I woke up again from hunger, it was already late at night. My tiny stomach twisted with a pain that felt both new and achingly familiar.
As I struggled to figure out what to do, another child started crying. Feeling the fabric wrapped around myself and the hazy memories surfacing in my mind, I realized I had transmigrated to another world—a world that seemed far from peaceful.
But the most heartbreaking part was that I had once again become an orphan.
"Wah, wah, wah…"
Perhaps it was because the other child had been fed earlier, but the cries of the newborn sharing my birth were now loud and clear. Through my blurred vision, I could make out the silhouette of another bundle of cloth nearby.
"Are you hungry?"
The previously sleeping woman woke up at the sound of the baby's cries.
She quickly picked up the child to comfort it and prepared to nurse. In no time, the baby began suckling contentedly.
Meanwhile, I was staring at this unkempt woman. Her hair was a mess, as though it hadn't been tended to for a long time.
But my rumbling stomach wouldn't let me waste any more mental energy thinking about it. Soon, another baby's loud cries joined the fray—this time my own.
"Hey… Shirley, don't let that one cry too!"
"Mmh."
Just as the woman was about to pick me up, the other baby began wailing again—it seemed the milk had run out.
---
"Let me take care of him."
An elderly woman picked the baby up.
She was a wet nurse who used to feed the children of wealthy families in the village. Originally, she had been nursing her grandson, but in these war-torn times, the child had succumbed to illness.
"Thank you…"
"You've seen too much death already..." The wet nurse said softly to her.
"I... I couldn't save the others..."
"These two still live. That's what matters."
The dazed Shirley murmured her thanks, still not fully lucid.
"Such poor children…"
"Indeed. At least we managed to rescue these two... Not like that village to the north."
"Don't speak of it. Some horrors are better left unspoken."
The women on the wagon whispered among themselves, their eyes full of pity and dark memories they wished they could forget.
After being fed and satiated, the baby's eyelids grew heavy.
---
When I next opened my eyes, I found myself in a blank white space.
"?"
Not a hallucination?
[Training Options Available:
Swordsmanship
Archery
Horsemanship]
Three options appeared before me.
"Swordsmanship."
As my right hand touched the option, a scene resembling a sword training arena materialized around me.
[Weapon Selection:
Single-handed
Two-handed
Polearm]
"Two-handed."
[Select Number of Opponents: 1-5]
"1."
[Training Scenario Initialized.]
[Opponent Generated.]
[Wooden Two-handed Practice Sword Equipped.]
The scene shifted, and a wooden two-handed practice sword appeared in my hands. In the distance, an opponent wielding a wooden stick rushed toward me.
Unlike in games, these opponents had no faces and resembled mannequins.
There was no time to think; the opponent's stick was already swinging down. A sharp pain shot through my head, and instinctively, I blocked in the direction of the attack and countered with a strike.
Though my movements were stiff, I prepared to deliver a final blow. However, the momentary stiffness allowed the opponent to regain its footing and launch another attack.
Clang!
I deftly parried, feeling the impact reverberate through my arms. The mannequin seemed to learn quickly, advancing and retreating with caution as it attacked.
Clang!
Clang!
Thud!
This time, my parry was flawless. Cornered, the mannequin had no way to retreat, and my wooden greatsword came crashing down on its head.
"Ugh…"
The mannequin let out an incomprehensible cry before collapsing to the ground. Its body slowly turned transparent and disappeared like mist in the morning sun.
[Training Complete]
[Basic Combat Techniques Mastered]
[Rewards:
- Experience Points: +20
- Two-handed Proficiency: +3
- Equipment: Two-handed Sword (Unsharpened)
- Consumable: Bread (50/50)]
A game interface appeared before me. On the left was a section labeled "Reward Items."
On the right was my name, "Grimm." And in the middle was my current baby form, swaddled in cloth. Since I was so small, it seemed I couldn't fully inspect my surroundings.
So, I placed all the items into my inventory. That's when I noticed the first slot already contained an egg with golden trim labeled "Mysterious Egg" in red text.
The random toy I had been fiddling with before transmigrating had come along too. Was it some divine prank?
I still had no idea which continent I was on. Knowing too little and being so young, I decided it was better not to reveal the egg and risk someone stealing it.
Next, I examined the two-handed sword's stats.
A 5-pound weapon was nearly as heavy as my baby form. The weapon's details appeared in red text:
[Two-Handed Sword (Unsharpened):
Slash Damage: 30
Blunt Pierce Damage: 24
Speed: 93
Attack Range: 110 cm
Requirements:
Strength: None
Intelligence: 10+]
"Pfft, what kind of system requires intelligence for a sword?" I muttered, exasperated. At least the bread seemed straightforward.
For now, with the system's help, starvation didn't seem imminent.
Having explored my items, I tapped the "Return" button. A scene outside appeared, showing myself nestled against the old woman and Shirley, alongside another infant—my twin brother, perhaps?
The view shifted suddenly, rising high into the clouds. A massive portion of the continent became visible, though the details were hard to discern.
The sudden elevation startled me awake. I had never seen the world from such heights before. Cold sweat soaked my swaddling as I shivered.
Blinking my blurry, panicked eyes at the sky, it took a long while for me to calm down.
Dawn was breaking, and the caravan was preparing to set out once more.
"Ugh, night watch is brutal."
"Haha, time to hit the road again."
"Yeah, let's hope our employer is generous this time."
"Maybe I'll save up enough to buy some land and settle down after the war."
"Ten years of fighting, and what do we have to show for it?"
"Better than being dead in a ditch."
"Hah, you dream too much. This war's been raging for decades since my grandfather's time."
"Better enjoy life while we're alive…"
The soldiers chatted idly as they got ready. Some held onto hope, while others complained about their hardships. All of them, though, simply wanted to survive in this unforgiving world.
No matter how much people struggled in pain, the sun continued to rise.
