The Dominion's horn hit like a jumpscare in a Five Nights at Freddy's marathon, followed by a green pulse that lit the Verdant Scar's sky like a Minecraft Nether portal on steroids. Yuto Akiyama's scrawny frame froze by the campfire, his spear leaning against a crate, his dented helmet sliding over his eyes like a noob failing a QTE. Braxium's camp was pure chaos—soldiers sprinting, armor clanking like a laggy Fortnite build battle, shouts drowning out the hum of glowing vines. The Verdant Scar stretched beyond, its craters pulsing green, twisted trees glitching like low-poly assets. The air reeked of ash, sulfur, and that spicy stew Yuto was 100% sure was a Potion of Regret. His meme-lord brain screamed: When you finish the tutorial but the game yeets you into a world boss raid.
This world's a straight-up L, Yuto thought, his inner monologue spiraling. No guns, no Wi-Fi, just swords and vibes. Orcs rip through guys like it's a Mortal Kombat fatality montage. Ghouls? Wyverns? Magic's either hacked or a total scam. Back on Earth, we'd have drones, snipers, maybe a Warzone killstreak. Here, I'm stuck with a stick and a prayer. His gunpowder obsession flared, a Call of Duty victory screen in his mind. Sulfur's out there—I saw it in those carts. Charcoal's just burned wood. Saltpeter? Caves or… ew, latrines. One musket, and I'm clutching this war like a pro.
Torren, sharpening his arrows by a tent, shot Yuto a glare, his rune-etched leather glinting blue. "Mud Boy, quit daydreaming like you're AFK in a ranked match. Gear up—Sarge's got us on a death run." His weathered face was grim, green eyes locked on the Blackspire Mountains, their purple glow giving Elden Ring final boss vibes. Yuto's heart did a speedrun. That horn was a server-wide ping. Bet it's a raid boss, and I'm rocking common loot.
Lyssa strutted up, her blonde hair defying the mud, her star-stitched capelet flapping like a Genshin Impact glider. "Fear not, peasants! Lyssa Starweaver shall smite this Dominion threat with arcane epicness!" Her staff's crystal flickered like a budget RGB setup, then spat a puff of glitter that hit Gav's face. He sneezed, his weasel mug twisting. "Oi, Glitter Queen, keep your sparkles outta my face!" Yuto's brain fired: When you roll for a 5-star but get a 4-star dupe. "Yo, Lyssa, your 'epicness' is giving Wish.com cosplay vibes. Maybe stick to pulling aggro with that cape?"
"Rude!" Lyssa huffed, striking a pose that sent her staff wobbling. "My magic's a game-changer, unlike your… mud fetish!" Redbeard, gripping his glowing amulet, chuckled. "Aye, lass, your game's changin' our morale, at least." Yuto grinned. "Bet her ult's on a 10-minute cooldown, though. Classic noob build." Lyssa's pout was pure Anime Protagonist Rage, but her smirk hinted she was leaning into the meme.
Granite-Face's bellow cut through: "Patrol, move your asses! Or I'll flay you for boots!" Yuto grabbed his spear, noticing its grip was slick—Sabotage? Karl's got my number. His tunic was a mud-caked rag, boots squelching, rash itching like a Skyrim disease debuff. This world's a permadeath hellscape, he thought. No medkits, no soap, just gore and glowing trinkets. Soldiers die from cuts a Band-Aid could fix. I need gunpowder—sulfur, charcoal, saltpeter. One bomb, and I'm the MVP of this medieval LARP.
Granite-Face briefed the squad, his scarred face lit by firelight. "Dominion's massing north, near their shrine. Carts, mages, something big—tainted beast, maybe worse. Disrupt 'em, don't wipe." Yuto's brain pinged: High-risk quest, S-tier loot. Sulfur's in those carts. His gun obsession surged. A flintlock could outrange mages, shred orcs. I'd turn this war into a Counter-Strike clutch.
The patrol—Torren, Lyssa, Gav, Redbeard, two shaky scouts—marched north, the Verdant Scar a post-apoc RPG map. Craters glowed green, vines pulsed like server cables, and the sulfurous air screamed gunpowder potential. Yuto's mental musket took shape: barrel, powder, spark. This world's stuck in 1000 AD. They'd call it sorcery, but I'd call it GG. Earth's comforts—pizza, showers, internet—haunted him. Here, I'm one infection from game over. Gotta yeet tech into this mess.
Torren led, bow ready, his cynicism sharper than his arrows. "Stay low, Mud Boy. Mages don't choke like you do in a clutch." Lyssa tripped on a vine, her capelet snagging. "Unlike some peasants, I'll dazzle them with my brilliance!" Her staff fizzled, coughing smoke. Yuto quipped, "Dazzle? Your brilliance is giving Among Us emergency meeting fail vibes." Gav snorted, Redbeard's prayer to Valthar muffling a laugh. "Aye, lass, your dazzle's a fine distraction."
The forest grew dense, trees twisted like Dark Souls props, bark etched with green runes. Yuto's gamer senses screamed dungeon ahead. They reached a ridge overlooking the Dominion camp: five black tents, two carts leaking yellow powder, six mages chanting around a glowing shrine. A chained beast—boar-like, green-black hide, tusks neon-sharp—growled nearby. Tainted mob, high-level. Bet it's tied to the shrine.
Torren whispered, "Summoning shrine. They're powering up that beast. We hit now, we stop it." Yuto's brain went World Warfare 4: Objective—disable enemy base. His eyes scanned the terrain, recalling Hannibal's pincer at Cannae. The ridge sloped into a gully, a natural choke point like Thermopylae. Funnel the grunts, flank the mages, nuke the shrine. Classic RTS strat. "Torren, gully, left. Bottle 'em up, then hit the shrine," he said, gripping his slick spear.
Torren raised an eyebrow. "You're cracked, Mud Boy, but it's not dumb." Lyssa scoffed. "A muddy peasant's plan? I'd rather trust my mana!" Her staff sparked, then flashed like a Fortnite flare gun, alerting the camp. "Oops," she squeaked, ducking. Yuto hissed, "Goddamn, Lyssa, you just pinged the whole map! Bet you're the impostor!" Gav yelped, "Glitter Queen's gonna wipe us!"
Torren's arrow dropped a mage, but green bolts lanced back, one singeing Redbeard's beard. He roared, amulet pulsing, and charged. Yuto led the sprint to the gully, his spear slipping—Karl, you bastard. The gully was narrow, moss glowing like a Halo map. The grunts pursued, clogging the path like bots in a tower defense. Torren's blue-glowing arrows and Redbeard's sword carved through, while Gav flailed his spear like a Smash Bros newbie. Lyssa's fireball—shockingly on target—scorched a grunt. "Bow to my epicness!" she crowed, tripping into Gav. Yuto quipped, "Nice KDA, but you're still throwing."
Yuto's brain shifted to phase two: Flank the mages. He spotted a game trail looping behind the shrine. Pincer time, Hannibal style. "Torren, Gav, with me! We loop right, hit their backline!" Torren nodded, dragging Gav, who muttered, "This is a feeder run, Mud Boy." The trail was tight, vines pulsing, but they reached the mages' rear, their staves glowing like Overwatch ults. Yuto's slick spear was useless, but a stack of sulfur barrels sat nearby. Environmental trap, let's go.
"Gav, tip those barrels!" Yuto shouted, shoving his spear under one. They rolled, crashing into the mages, sparking—maybe from Lyssa's stray spell—and igniting in a sulfurous fireball. The shrine's pulse flickered, mages screaming as their magic glitched. Disable the core, win the base rush, Yuto thought, grinning like he'd just clutched a 1v5. The boar broke free, tusks slashing, but Redbeard's charge and Torren's arrows slowed it. Yuto spotted loose shale above. Thermopylae 2.0. "Redbeard, drop that shale!" Redbeard heaved, the rocks crushing the boar's legs. The patrol swarmed, finishing it.
Yuto snatched a sulfur pouch from the wreckage, his gunpowder dream alive. Sulfur, acquired. Charcoal's next. Saltpeter's the grind. Back at camp, "Oracle of Mud" whispers spread, but Yuto found his bedroll slashed—Karl's handiwork. Torren warned, "Watch that bastard. He's got a knife with your name on it." Lyssa tried a "healing light" on Gav's burns, only to blind everyone. "Yo, Lyssa, your light's giving League of Legends flashbang vibes," Yuto said, dodging her staff swing.
Yuto met Mara, a wiry alchemist with eyes like a Skyrim NPC. "That yellow powder, lad—dangerous stuff," she said, sniffing his sulfur. Yuto grinned. "Ever mix it with charcoal? Big boom potential." Mara's eyes lit up. "Alchemy, eh? Risky, but I'm game." Yuto sketched a bomb in the dirt—sulfur, charcoal, saltpeter. One spark, and I'm the medieval Shroud.
As the camp braced for Dominion moves, the Verdant Scar pulsed green, its craters like Destiny raid markers. A scout stumbled in, panting. "Dominion's coming—mages, beasts, and a red-glowing… thing! Bigger than a siege tower!" Granite-Face's face darkened. "Mud Boy, you're on point. Don't choke." Yuto's brain froze: Red glow? That's a final boss spawn, and I'm still rocking starter gear.