The soft sound of running water filled the air as the morning sun broke through the trees, casting golden light over the river's edge, where a still figure lay on the rocky shore, soaked, bruised, and barely moving.
Clint groaned, his body aching all over as he slowly opened his eyes. "Urgh… where…"
He reached up and touched the back of his head, wincing when his fingers pressed against the sore spot from where he had hit the rock last night. He pushed himself up, sitting against a large stone, breathing slowly as he tried to gather his thoughts.
He stared at the calm river for a moment, then closed his eyes, thinking hard. 'Last night... I died.' He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing.
'Then that ritual... those freaks in black robes—they summoned me. From my world?' He looked up at the sky and it still didn't feel like Earth. 'So… I'm really not in my world anymore.'
A rock flew across the river as he kicked it in frustration. 'Damn it…How the hell am I supposed to get back?'
His stomach growled loudly. Clint sighed, rubbing his face. 'First things first.'
Clint turned toward the forest and decided to find something to eat. After searching for a while, he was lucky enough to find a few fruit-bearing trees, and he quickly grabbed whatever looked edible—red berries, a few small yellow fruits, and something that looked like a pear but smelled like coconut.
He returned to the river and sat down on a fallen log, eating quietly, biting slowly, his eyes staring blankly at the water. He didn't want to think about last night anymore.
He shook his head, trying to calm down. 'First, I need to find a way out of this forest'
Clint stood up again and looked around, scanning the trees, the sunlight, the direction of the river, trying to find any trail or hint of a path. 'If they summoned me, maybe they can send me back… But something about them feels off.'
Just then, he heard voices. Clint's body froze instantly, His eyes widened. "It's them… it must be them!"
He quickly looked around for a place to hide—but there was nowhere to hide, just open grass, rocks, and trees too thin to cover him. He gritted his teeth, fists clenched.
'Wait, I should face them. Maybe I can force them to send me back.' He stepped forward, standing his ground, ready to confront whoever was coming.
The voices grew louder, clearer—multiple people, walking together, and one of them sounded like they were giving orders. Then, from between the trees, a group appeared, led by a tall man wearing strange, silver-lined clothes and light armor, his long dark coat flowing behind him as he walked with calm authority.
But before Clint could even observe his face or prepare to speak— Something changed.
His vision suddenly dropped—the trees looked taller, the grass thicker, the ground much closer.
"Wha—?!" His body felt lighter, his arms and legs gone, replaced by short limbs and his clothes had vanished completely. He looked down and saw fur. Black fur.
His eyes widened as he took a shaky hop forward and saw his reflection in the water.
'What the hell?!' he thought, his heart racing. He had turned into a fluffy black bunny.
"Why am I small?! Why is everything so huge?! What is this?!"
Clint's heart was beating fast as he stared at his small reflection in the river, his black fur shining under the sun, and his ears twitching uncontrollably. He didn't understand how it happened but he was now a small black bunny, and he was starting to panic.
"This has to be a dream… right?" He turned his head left and right, trying to figure out how to move his body.
But when he tried to walk, he stumbled forward, or his back legs moved in the wrong way, making him flop to the side or bounce awkwardly into a patch of grass.
"This is stupid! I don't even know how to walk like this!" he said but no words came out—just a little "squeek" from his tiny mouth.
And then— He saw them. The tall man at the center with silver hair and red eyes, just scanning the area as if measuring everything with a single glance. He looked cold, composed, and dangerous without even trying.
One of the knights beside him stepped forward and said, "My Lord, the river is clean. It's a good place to rest until sundown."
The man gave a small nod. "We make camp here. Spread out, stay alert."
Clint, still lying in the grass trying to control his new bunny body, watched from the distance, not knowing who that man was—he just looked like the leader of the group.
His voice was cold and full of authority, the kind of voice that didn't need to shout to be obeyed.
But as he scanned the area, his eyes landed on Clint. Clint froze. He stared at the small black furball lying awkwardly on the rocks by the river, with tiny legs twitching slightly and ears flopped down.
One of the knights stepped forward, drawing his sword with a sharp sound. "I'll deal with it, my Lord."
He started walking toward Clint. Clint tried to hop away but tripped again—his legs weren't working the way he wanted, and he hated it. "Damn it, move! Come on!"
The knight raised his sword, but just before he could strike, the man calmly raised his hand again.
"Stop." The knight froze.
The man with silver hair stepped forward, slowly, eyes still fixed on the bunny, and knelt down on one knee in front of Clint. Clint's tiny heartbeat was racing, his body tense as the Duke reached out and grabbed both of his ears, lifting him gently but firmly off the ground.
"Let me go!" Clint shouted in panic, but again it came out as a soft high-pitched
"squeek squeek squeek!"
His small legs kicked in the air. "I'm warning you, I might be small now but I can still fight! You'll get a piece of me, you hear that?!" he squeaked again and waggled his feet wildly, trying to land a kick.