Cold.
That was the first thing I felt when I opened my eyes for the first time. That it was ever so cold, almost freezing cold with little to keep me warm.
I shuddered as my eyes immediately fluttered shut only moments after opening, curling up further into a small ball on the ground. Trying to enclose the core of my body in order to get more heat spread through a smaller area.
I trembled and shook, realising it wasn't working.
I reluctantly uncurled, hands placing themselves on the wet and muddy ground as I slowly pushed myself up. Wet leaves poorly cushioned my hands as I pushed myself up, shuddering as I took in my surroundings.
A forest... Not long after a rainstorm, given how wet and muddy the ground was. The trees weren't much better, the distinct lack of leaves in the trees telling me that either the rainstorm was severe or I was it was in the middle of autumn.
I shuddered as a gust of wind peeled through, sending shudders down my spine and I quickly hugged myself- ignoring my muddy hands and uncaring if I got my clothes dirty.
I took a deep breath as I could feel my heartbeat starting to pick up, panic starting to set in. I couldn't panic, not in this situation. I needed to calm myself and focus my mind.
"My name is..." My breath hitched...
What was my name? Why couldn't I remember it?
Did I have amnesia?
No, that wasn't right. I could recall my memories just fine... I could recall the faces of my parents, my family, my friends, my girlfriend... I could even hear their voices in my mind if I thought about them, able to picture each of their first names in my mind without a problem.
But my own was lost to me.
"My name... Is..." I focused. Trying to think... Think... Think!
Like a dam bursting, memories that were not my own poured into my mind. Memories of growing up in an orphanage, memories of befriending others and learning what I could under the matron.
"My name is Arthur," I murmured to myself, and I felt my body relax.
It was not the name from my original memories, but the name in the new memories also felt correct. It felt as though it was meant to be my name.
I was nothing if not flexible… If I could not remember my original name, then I would take the new one as my own.
I took a shaky breath and took a moment to examine my clothes.
As expected, they were wet. It was no wonder I was so cold- my clothes were wet in the middle of a forest after a rainstorm. I'd be better off walking around in my underwear than with my clothes at the moment.
Then, I took another moment to look at my clothes with a furrowed brow...
These clothes weren't mine.
I was dressed in a long-sleeved tunic and a baggy pair of brown pants. The shoes weren't mine either...
This was wrong. The style of the clothing looked like something you'd find in a fantasy world... They were comfortable, but it felt off to be wearing them...
Something was wrong.
Perhaps the shock of the cold was finally wearing off, but I was noticing more details about myself.
My hands were smaller, childlike even... They looked delicate and soft, unlike my actual hands which were much rougher.
My arms and legs were also far shorter than I recalled... My entire body felt as though it had been shrunk down. The back pain I was used to due to poor sitting posture was also gone, along with the feeling of joints locking up and needing to be cracked.
While it was a relief to not feeling those things any longer, it filled me with a new sense of panic.
I took a deep breath once again... I needed to calm down, even if I had to try and force it. Panicking would do nothing for me; I needed to keep my composure.
I closed my eyes and listened... And, once I was able to focus properly, I heard the sound of water running.
I followed the sound of the running water- leaves crinkling beneath my feet with every muddy step I took. I deliberately lifted my knees a bit higher than needed as I walked.
The more movement I had, the more heat my body would generate- which would help me warm up faster. And I desperately needed that in the cold.
It took a bit of walking, but I finally came to a river and I felt relief fill my body... Where there was water, there was life. If I followed this river, I might be able to find a settlement.
I knelt down by the water and started by washing my hands in it- shuddering at the cold. Once they were clean, I pulled my hands out and leaned over to look at my reflection.
The face I saw looking back at me was not mine from any point of my life.
Green eyes- not brown- stared back at me. Silver hair- not brown- was atop my head. A slightly cute- if not handsome- face was what my eyes focused on.
This was wrong.
That wasn't my face.
That wasn't me.
And yet... Who else could it be but me? The face I'd seen reflected back at myself in the reflection of the water in the memories that gave me my new name.
This wasn't a dream- the biting and painful cold taught me that. And I certainly wasn't hallucinating... I'd had moments of calm and level-headedness that showed that was impossible.
"Is this... An Isekai...?"
Isekai. A genre that involved the protagonist being sent to another world.
This method could be through summoning, death and rebirth, even something as simple as a 'what world do you want to go to' survey on the internet.
And then... There was what happened to me. Falling asleep and then simply waking up in a place unfamiliar, unknown, in a body that wasn't mine and yet was.
It was the only explanation I could think of that made any real sense in my mind.
I gulped and shook my head.
"Surely there should be some kind of benefit, right...?" I murmured to myself, desperate given my current situation.
Another standard of the Isekai genre: the benefit or the 'Golden Finger' as Chinese stories tended to call it. Something that helped the protagonist go from a 'normal person' to completely overpowered and facilitated their survival in their new and unfamiliar world.
At that moment, as if summoned by my thoughts, a single textbox appeared in front of my eyes.
With newfound hope, my eyes scanned the single line of text... And hope turned into despair.
[Enter the Throne of Heroes.]
The Throne of Heroes.
A place existing outside of both time and space, recording the deeds and exploits of everyone who lived on the Earth. Those who made their mark on history- those called 'Heroes'- resided as entities within that place, awaiting their summoning at the behest of the Human Order or at the wishes of a Master seeking out the Holy Grail.
"... I'm in the Nasuverse," I swallowed as dread filled my stomach, a sense of panic filling me that I didn't resist this time.
I quickly began to scan through my new memories, trying to find any hint of what time period I was in- if I was in a singularity, a Lostbelt, anything to help me at least understand where or when I was.
And then, a single name stuck out to me like a sore thumb.
Uther Pendragon.
"The era of Camelot, before Artoria takes the throne..."
How much more unlucky could I get...? No matter what I did, I was likely doomed to die in only four or five decades anyway.
The Age of the Gods had already been in a steep decline for several centuries... And now, this was the era of King Arthur- the era where Britain would bid farewell to the Age of the Gods. The planet itself would reject Britain itself and ultimately lead to the decline of the land that wouldn't end until every human from the Age of the Gods within Britain was dead or was on the Reverse side.
"In such a chaotic era... I don't get any help from my own system unless I enter the Throne of Heroes...?"
It felt like a cruel, heartless joke.
The smallest slip up could and would see my life cut short.
How was I supposed to enter the Throne of Heroes in such a heartless and chaotic era?
... No, wait...
I suddenly felt the panic wash out of my body, instead a realisation filling my mind.
It might not be impossible...
This was still the Age of the Gods. It would only begin its truly sharp decline once Vortigern was felled and Rhongomyniad fell into Artoria's hands.
The humans in this era were naturally stronger- with greater magic circuits, and a higher ceiling. On top of that, several Phantasmal beasts- mythological creatures- still roamed the world instead of having retreated to the Reverse Side.
It would still be difficult when there were names like Gawain, Lancelot, Tristan, and the other knights of the round table... Along with beings like Morgan le Fay and Vortigern.
However- it was not impossible.
My eyes once again focused on the text box floating in front of my face, unmoving.
[Enter the Throne of Heroes.]
I took another deep, shaky breath as I continued to rub my arms in order to try and keep warm.
"... Alright then," I murmured. "I'll do it."
The screen vanished into particles of light that only I could see. Somehow, I knew that if I desired it that same prompt would appear before my eyes again. It was the only guiding force I had in this new world. I had to enter the throne of heroes.
Perhaps then I could be able to find out just why I had ended up in the era of King Arthur.
I began to follow the path of the river, walking alongside the flowing stream to reach its destination- or at least find a familiar enough landmark so I could get back to the town and the orphanage.
As I walked, I began to think... What avenues could I follow in order to enter the Throne of Heroes?
Perhaps I could walk the path of a magus? While that would be nice, I found it unlikely. I would need a teacher to help in unlocking my magic circuits or even using magical energy in the first place.
Not to mention, Magic was already at the point where it was slowly starting to be hoarded. Even Merlin didn't teach Artoria any spells- though that may have been due to how Morgan ended up under his teachings.
After a moment of thinking, I merely sighed and began to walk faster. A small but wry smile crawled onto my face.
In the Era of King Arthur... Who was I kidding? There was only one profession that could be followed in order to obtain a place in the Throne of Heroes.
After all, there was a reason Artoria had obtained the moniker 'King of Knights.'
Being a knight in this era wasn't necessarily easy, but it was certainly the easiest path to potentially obtaining recognition and status.
From the beginning, there was only truly one path that I could follow on my way to the Throne of Heroes.
"I must become a knight," I murmured to myself, a familiar landmark finally entering my vision and I began to follow the path back to the town. "If I want to enter the throne, if I want to etch my name into history... That is the only path that I can follow."
Throne of Heroes, System... Wait for me. It may take several decades, but you and I would meet one day.