Levi wiped a glop of swamp muck from his sleeve, already regretting moving at all. His boots—well, someone's boots—squelched with every step, soaked from toe to ankle in mud that smelled like a frog's armpit. He stood awkwardly on the edge of the path, trying to appear less like a lunatic and more like a very lost, very confused traveler.
The old woman watched him, arms folded beneath a rough brown shawl. Her expression wasn't hostile, exactly—just... suspicious, the way someone might look at a squirrel walking upright and asking for rent.
He cleared his throat, trying not to sound like he was having a panic attack. "Sooo… who exactly are you, ma'am?"
Her expression softened, if only a little. "Name's Maery."
"Maery?" Levi repeated, eyebrows rising.
"Aye," she said, nodding. "Maery."
"Just Maery?"
She gave him a sideways look. "What, were you expectin' titles and surnames? I'm not a bloody lord. Just Maery. That enough for you?"
"Right... just Maery. Got it," Levi mumbled. "Thought maybe you were secretly a boss NPC or something."
Mae squinted. "...A what?"
"Never mind."
She studied him a little longer, her eyes flicking to the faint burn marks on his neck—souvenirs from getting zapped into another universe, courtesy of Stronghold Crusader, Cheat Engine, and one temperamental power cable.
"You don't sound like you're from anywhere near here, boy."
"That obvious, huh?" he muttered, giving her a lopsided half-smile. "Mind telling me where 'here' even is?"
She huffed. "You're near Moat Cailin. Swampside village, just north of the ruins. Not much else around but lizards, leeches, and lost souls."
"Moat Cailin… sounds like a Game of Thrones location," he said, mostly to himself.
"What?"
"Nothing. Swampy Game of Thrones location. That tracks."
"Speak sense, lad."
"Right, sorry." He ran a hand through his damp, messy hair. "And what year is it? Please don't say something cursed."
Mae raised a brow. "Maester says it's 277 AC."
He stared blankly. "...Okay. Cool. Yeah. No idea what that means. Not BC or DC?"
She gave him a long, skeptical stare. "You hit your head?"
"No, I just—" Levi exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. "Like... which country is this? Russia? Germany? Switzerland?"
Mae blinked. "...Are those southern keeps?"
He groaned. "They're countries. Modern-day… Earth—ugh, never mind. I'm losing brain cells."
Mae tilted her head. "Boy, I don't know what kind of milk you were raised on, but this is the North. You're in the North of the realm."
Levi's shoulders slumped. He looked to the muddy road behind her, then to the swampy trees all around them. No power lines. No Wi-Fi. No menus. Just... bugs and fog. This was either a crazy lucid dream, or he'd officially been isekai'd into the worst part of a fantasy map.
Before he could respond, a deep, brassy horn split the air.
BOOOOOMMMMMMM.
The sound thundered over the trees like something ancient and angry. It made the birds flee, made the air feel tight. Mae's eyes widened with fear.
"No, no, no—not now!" she hissed.
"What was that?" Levi said, heart pounding despite himself.
"The horn. Trouble." Her tone changed in an instant—tired and curious turned to sharp and motherly. "Come on, boy—we have to get to the village house. Now."
She turned and hobbled off with surprising speed, shawl fluttering behind her.
"Don't just stand there, lad!" she barked over her shoulder. "Move those legs before I have to kick 'em!"
Levi blinked. "Seriously? Lady, I don't even know where I am—"
But she was already ahead, navigating the mud with the confidence of someone who'd been born in it. Not wanting to get left behind—or kicked—he hurried after her, slipping and flailing in the swamp as he went.
"Oh great," he muttered. "First I get reincarnated in a swamp, and now I'm speedrunning a panic quest."
The village came into clearer view as they crossed a bend in the muddy path—wooden homes propped on stilts, connected by narrow boardwalks. Smoke drifted from chimneys, and villagers were already moving with nervous urgency. Doors closed. Children were ushered inside. And at the center of it all, a long, squat hall with thick log walls stood like the heart of the place.
"Inside, quickly!" Mae snapped, pushing open the village house door.
Levi ducked in, eyes adjusting to the dim candlelight. The interior was warmer than outside, but smelled strongly of herbs, earth, and dried fish. A handful of villagers were already inside, murmuring and casting worried glances toward the door.
Mae pulled him to a bench near the hearth. "Sit. Don't speak. And if someone asks who you are, say nothing stupid."
Levi opened his mouth, but Mae shot him a look that could melt steel.
He closed it.
For a moment, he sat in the flickering shadows, watching villagers fill the room. Some were armed with crude spears and pitchforks. Others looked just as clueless as him. But one thing was certain—the horn had spooked them.
Whatever was coming… it wasn't good.
Levi shifted uncomfortably, boots dripping onto the wooden floor. He glanced toward Mae, who was whispering to another elder. Then down at his hands.
He had nothing. No inventory. No items. Not even a phone or a wrapper. Just a wet tunic, old boots, and a sarcastic brain.
He clenched his fists. "Okay," he whispered to himself. "Think. You played games your whole life. That had to count for something. You survived tutorial zones, outsmarted raids, memorized enemy spawn timers…"
Then he paused.
"...You also died to peasants a lot in Crusader mode."
His stomach growled.
He sighed. "This is gonna suck, isn't it?"