The sky burned crimson. The wind smelled like… burnt socks. Fantastic. Nothing says "epic battlefield" like bad hygiene.
I stood alone, sword in hand, mana coiling lazily around me. Across from me, the creature from another world loomed. Shifting shadows. Claws like kitchen knives. Eyes like black marbles. Definitely not the kind you bring home to meet the parents.
It hissed—or maybe it was laughing. Hard to tell.
I sighed. "Really? Couldn't you pick a better greeting? A wave? A friendly 'hello'? Or tea?"
Mana surged lightly around my sword. Enough to make me look serious. Not enough to actually threaten it… yet.
It lunged.
I rolled my eyes. Predictable. I already calculated three outcomes:
Trip over a rock and die embarrassingly.
Actually hit it and look competent.
Survive and make it look like I planned it all along.
Option 3, obviously.
Blade met shadow. Sparks danced. The creature blinked. Probably confused. Or terrified. Hard to tell with all the shifting mass.
I smirked. "See? Told you I had a plan."
It… shifted. Reality bent. My calculations went out the window.
"Wait, you seriously did not warn me about that?" I muttered.
A claw slammed into my side. Pain. Sharp. Embarrassing. My protective mana shield shattered.
I narrowed my eyes. "Oh, that's it. You just made me angry."
The air around me thickened. Mana surged, my sword glowed brighter, and suddenly the battlefield felt… smaller. My aura flared, a storm of deep crimson energy radiating in every direction. Dust swirled. Rocks cracked. Even the shadows of the creature recoiled slightly.
"Ahhh… that's better. Now we're playing," I said, smirking.
I struck. Every move was precise, a combination of swordsmanship and mana blasts, each attack predicting its instinctive counter. The creature staggered, and I allowed myself a small, self-satisfied chuckle.
"Honestly, you need anger management classes. Or at least some reading on probability."
The creature roared. Shadow claws tore through the air toward me. I calculated, I dodged, I laughed mid-dodge.
Then reality bent again. Too fast. Too unpredictable. My aura flared higher, but no calculation could save me this time.
A claw slammed into my chest. Pain exploded. Mana flared. I tried to strike, tried to dodge…
Nothing.
Darkness. Cold. Silence.
I woke in a small, unfamiliar room. White walls, runes lining every corner. My body… smaller. Weaker. Pants optional. Great.
A voice echoed in my head:
"This is your second chance. Survive… and prepare. The war is coming."
I groaned. "Oh, fantastic. Died, resurrected as a child, in some weird dungeon-school room… Perfect Monday."
I sat up, stretched, and smirked despite everything. "Alright… survive. Grow stronger. And maybe… don't die next time. Probably."
The purpose was clear: grow strong enough to survive the war.
[Author's Thoughts: MC is witty, OP, but regression makes him look weak. Perfect for humor, hidden brilliance, and awkward academy beginnings.]