Chapter I: The Adventurer Volka
“——Aaaaaah! Why did it have to be that manga world… We almost ended up with a total party wipe! I was this close to being torn apart alive and becoming monster fodder. Ugh——What am I supposed to do now? Can’t see out of my right eye, lost my left leg, can I even keep living like this? No, I’ve made it this far; there must be a way… Is there? Damn it, this is that hopelessly twisted dark fantasy manga by that deranged author! You’ve got to be kidding me—I only accept happy endings!”
Through the missing right half of my vision, even the plain ceiling of this ordinary room looks like it’s from another world.
I must have been careless.
I thought I had reincarnated into a typical fantasy world of swords and magic, like those often seen in light novels and manga.
But reality couldn’t be more different—it seems I’m in a certain dark fantasy world that was somewhat famous in my previous life.
It’s said to appear like a popular isekai adventure tale but is actually a deceptive manga that mercilessly kills off characters despite its cover.
I really liked the art style, so I clicked on it without much thought on a manga site—that was the beginning of everything.
As a result, I had an emotional breakdown.
The reason? Well, let’s just say the author’s preferences are a bit… off.
“Dark fantasy” sounds nice, but when characters are attacked by monsters, male characters being torn apart limb from limb is commonplace, and female characters are assaulted and brutally murdered. There’s no distinction between men and women, protagonists or side characters. The story seems to exist solely to torment its characters, and for someone like me who absolutely adores happy endings, the impact was overwhelming.
I could even understand the protagonist being a fallen berserker.
But the content was just too unreasonable; for the first time in my life, I threw my phone while reading. I questioned the author’s sanity multiple times. That person is definitely twisted, but I really love the art, so I couldn’t drop the manga. Every time a new chapter came out, I’d read it nervously, enjoying the artwork while having an emotional breakdown—a meaningless cycle.
Without diving deep into the story, I could at most enjoy the artwork like an illustration collection—for me, it was that kind of manga.
I only liked the art, so I don’t remember much about the story or setting. I never imagined I’d reincarnate into a work in such a delicate position, so I hadn’t noticed until now.
It seems I’ve been reincarnated as one of the members of a side-character party that dies worthlessly early in the story—a party that serves to highlight the protagonist’s first encounter with a labyrinth and the power of the Life-Taker.
I don’t remember this character’s face or name. It’s possible his name wasn’t even revealed, or he exited the stage without a single line—a complete background character. Perhaps he was a character born to die from the very beginning, meant to emphasize the dark fantasy setting.
I survived by sheer miracle. The Life-Taker—in the story, it’s defeated in just three pages to showcase the protagonist’s berserker abilities, making it seem like a beginner’s tutorial, but in reality, it’s a top-tier monster among monsters. Encountering it is almost synonymous with death; that’s no exaggeration. Some even say it’s a being that reclaims the lives of humans who have grown too numerous to restore world balance. Rather than a monster, it’s more like a ‘concept’ or a ‘phenomenon’.
Fighting such a monster while severely wounded and near death—I never imagined I could survive. Though my memory is fuzzy, I must have been fighting desperately without regard for my own life at the time.
Of course, there was a price to pay. I lost my right eye and left leg. My left leg is gone below the knee, and my right eye bears an exaggerated scar from forehead to cheek, the kind you only see in fiction.
Such severe injuries nearly end my future as an adventurer and as a swordsman.
But I’m not sad. Not only did I protect all my companions in that desperate situation, but I also managed to survive. Thinking about the hopeless ending in the original work, I even feel a sense of accomplishment: “Well done!”
So, having avoided the bad ending, it’s all smiles from here on out—or so I thought.
Right now, I’m extremely troubled. Losing one eye and one leg is certainly inconvenient, but what’s bothering me more is something else.
Since I woke up, my party members have been acting strangely.
“Ugh, this bed is so hard… Volka, isn’t it uncomfortable to sleep on? I know! Let’s have them prepare a higher-quality bed tomorrow! Don’t worry; as your master, I won’t let my disciple feel any discomfort. Leave everything to me.”
“…Master.”
“Hmm? What’s the matter?”
“I appreciate you watching over me, but there’s no need to sleep together—”
“——Am I a bother?”
“Eh?”
“Am… am I in the way…? Ha, haha, you’re right. Someone who made her disciple suffer so much is just a nuisance here… Acting all high and mighty as a master now only adds to the trouble… I don’t even have the right… to stay by your side…”
“Wait, what are you talking about?”
“B-but I’ll do my best!! I won’t let that happen again; this time, I’ll definitely protect you!! So please, don’t abandon me…!!”
“Whoa, whoa, wait, hold on! What are you saying? Wait, don’t cry; let’s talk this out!”
My legitimate loli granny of a master—Liselotte—
“Well then, Senpai, if there’s anything you need help with, please let me know!”
“No, you don’t have to go out of your way…”
“No can do! You need to rest completely. It’s okay if you don’t do anything; leave everything to me!”
“Even if you say everything…”
“Everything means everything.”
“…Uh?”
“Do you need anything? Just say the word, and I’ll bring it to you. No matter how small, because your safety is the most important. I’ll cook all your meals every day, so let me know what you’d like. Also, if you want to go anywhere, make sure to call one of us; you can’t use the wheelchair by yourself. It’s dangerous without someone pushing from behind; that’s what the sister said. Someone will always be by your side at all times. We all discussed and decided to do this—to support you, to protect you no matter what happens this time. So don’t hesitate to rely on us. You always try to do everything alone, and it worries me. We won’t let you go through such painful experiences again. We won’t let you push yourself anymore. You don’t have to do anything; just focus on recovering. Leave everything to us; from now on, we’ll always—”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!”
Our youngest swordswoman, the easily flustered and nurturing Yulithia—
“Volka. I’ve hunted down most of the monsters around here.”
“…Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you just say?”
“? I’ve hunted down most of the monsters around here. It’s safe for now.”
“…”
“I’m a little… relieved.”
“Isn’t that going overboard…?”
“…I couldn’t protect you. Instead, you protected me and got seriously injured. Grandma taught me countless times that this is the sin our gods hate the most. A companion’s injury is the tribe’s injury. A life-saving debt must be repaid with one’s own life—that’s the rule. So I’ll offer every strand of hair, every bone, every drop of blood, even my entire soul to you. I’ve decided… to die for you.”
“……………………”
Our tanned maid heavy warrior, Atori—everyone’s words and actions are subtly—no, obviously becoming heavier—
Well, it’s understandable when you think about it. How would those who came out unscathed feel when a companion hovered between life and death and ended up with severe aftereffects? In this world overrun with dangerous monsters, companions would feel a strong sense of guilt for failing to protect each other and deeply regret thinking, “If only I had done this then.”
If I were the one being protected, I’d undoubtedly regret my own powerlessness from the bottom of my heart.
In other words, it’s the same for everyone. It seems that while I was journeying near death, they’ve been brooding over these issues—
Naturally, my stomach is also on the verge of developing an ulcer from the emotional weight.
I’ve been a steadfast advocate of happy endings since my previous life, and that hasn’t changed now. I absolutely refuse to let the girls’ eyes lose their spark. Just watching that happen in anime or manga is hard enough; if I become a party to it, my own eyes would lose their light.
I can’t let this continue.
This is a dark fantasy world. The author is twisted; I’ve realized that. But the ‘me’ in this world is undoubtedly me, who has lived here for seventeen years, and everyone else is my irreplaceable, important companion.
I’m not kidding about an ending where the party falls into darkness.
Somehow, I have to help everyone bounce back. Having already overturned the original work, they should also be qualified to obtain a happy future. If they can’t quickly overcome obstacles and find happiness just because their companion lost one eye and one leg, I’d be troubled.
With that in mind, what I need to do next is obvious.
I absolutely won’t accept this kind of descent into darkness…!
——So, it’s all well and good that I’ve firmly resolved myself.
“…I’m so bored.”
But a severely injured patient missing one eye and one leg can’t take action immediately, so I’m forced into a monotonous hospital life, lying in bed out of sheer boredom.
In fact, I don’t even remember how I defeated the Life-Taker. When I came to, I was lying in a church bed, and ten days had already passed.
Since I survived, does that mean I successfully executed the ‘defeating method’ from the original? But looking back, my mind is blank. Struggling desperately while near death seems to have caused my body to give up the memory of that time. Honestly, it’s a miracle I survived.
After exhausting my strength defeating the Life-Taker, it seems I was helped by the original protagonist. Not only did he provide immediate first aid on the spot, but he also broke a precious transfer crystal to get us out of the labyrinth and carried me into this church.
By the way, that protagonist is generally an emotionally detached berserker, but he has a backstory where he absolutely won’t abandon others when it comes to monsters. He’s already left this city in pursuit of his next prey.
I wonder if there will ever be a day when I can thank him.
Now then, about the ‘me’ of this world—that is, the adventurer ‘Volka’.
There’s not a single depiction of him in the original that remains in my memory. I don’t know if his name was even revealed; it’s possible he was a complete background character who exited the stage without any lines. Perhaps he was a character born to die from the very beginning, meant to emphasize the dark fantasy setting.
His face isn’t bad. Sharp eyes that look a bit cold, but if you judge by appearances, he’s good-looking.
After all, this world is full of handsome men and beautiful women. I used to think, “This other world is amazing,” but now that I realize it’s the world of a manga, I can only say it’s natural. In that manga, even pig-like, chubby, ill-tempered nobles could be handsome if viewed from a different angle. The author puts great effort into drawing even background characters. It seems ‘Volka’ is no exception.
At just seventeen, he’s almost shed all traces of boyishness, his features maturing into those of a rugged young man. He’s tall too; I’ve rarely met anyone my age taller than me. His ash-gray hair, spiky and eye-catching, reaches down his back, tied loosely near his neck. In this other world, many men tie their hair like this.
As for his personality… let’s generously say he’s a cool guy who doesn’t show his emotions easily. To put it less kindly, well, you can fill in the blanks.
He’s a member of the A-rank party Silver Gray Journey, serving as a swordsman. His fighting style is Iaido—the ‘sword-drawing technique’. With a lightning-fast draw that eyes can’t follow, thin flashes of light streak by, and as he sheathes his sword, the enemy falls helplessly—this extremely fantastical sword-drawing art that can only exist in fiction.
Even in this fantasy world where magic allows for superhuman combat, mastering this technique was like climbing a sheer cliff. After all, the swordsmanship of this world has no concept of Iaido, so I had to rely on my mental image to teach myself to the pinnacle, nearly dying countless times during training.
Even so, the reason I was so obsessed with this technique is simple—because it’s cool. In my previous life, I was captivated by sword-drawing characters in anime, manga, and games. So, since I was given a second life in another world, I thought it wouldn’t be bad to pursue the romance I once yearned for.
But—with the loss of one eye and one leg, that’s all in the past now.
Also, yes, all the members of my party are girls, so I’m unexpectedly in a harem protagonist-like position.
Of course, given the nature of the original work, there’s no way it’s an actual harem. A party composed mainly of girls is probably just the twisted author’s way of cruelly showcasing the dark world by destroying such a team.
Having only girls in the party might seem unnatural, so they probably threw in a male character just to have him get torn apart—something like that.
‘Volka’ is really just that kind of character.
But none of that matters anymore. It doesn’t matter what kind of character ‘Volka’ was in the original; no matter who he was, he’s me, who has lived seventeen years in this world. Here and now, it’s ‘me’, not ‘Volka’.
Because I’ve overturned the fate where I was supposed to die back then.
“—Haaaah—”
Anyway—I’m really bored.
Though it’s normal for an injured person to have nothing to do, lying in bed all the time after waking up is quite depressing. In this fantasy world, there’s no entertainment like TV or smartphones, so being bedridden in a room is just plain boring.
Currently, as a severely injured patient, I’m staying in a church in the city of Lude, near the labyrinth.
Holy Guidance Church—the name sounds solemn, but you can think of it as an organization that functions as both a church and a hospital. Similar to common fantasy works, medical care in this world is established through magic. This place relies on devout faith in the gods to shoulder the birth, old age, sickness, and death of the nation’s people.
For adventurers, it’s like a second home where we’re taken care of whenever we’re injured in battle. In this country, when you mention ‘the church’, it refers to the Holy Guidance Church.
…Alright, let’s go for a walk.
My wounds have healed, and no one has ordered me not to leave the ward. My body has become stiff from lying in bed all day; I need some exercise.
Since childhood, I’ve devoted my life to sword training, so if I don’t move my body, I feel itchy all over. If I could ask for more, I’d like to practice swinging, but Master would… Thinking about this, I tried to get out of bed.
“Ugh!”
I fell. It wasn’t a slight loss of balance or dizziness; I fell flat like a log onto the floor.
Hey, hey, what’s going on? I was momentarily shocked.
“Ah, right. My left leg…”
My left leg is gone. I completely forgot.
Let me explain myself. Strangely, I hardly feel the reality of losing my left leg. I’m not wallowing in grief or turning away from reality; it’s just a fact. I feel as if my left leg is still attached to my body.
In my previous life, this condition was called ‘phantom limb’, right? So when I was thinking, I tried to move as usual—and as you can see.
Luckily, there’s no one else in the room. If my companions saw me, I’d die of embarrassment, and they’d probably turn pale with worry. As someone who insists on happy endings, I can’t add more emotional burden to everyone.
Especially my Master. If I so much as wobble or look like I’m in pain, she’ll turn pale and worry with tears in her eyes—
“—Volka!!”
My silver-haired Master burst into the ward, shouting with great vigor, as if an important family member had been taken hostage.
In one word, she’s a ‘witch’. Wearing an exaggeratedly large witch’s hat, her robe seems to enclose the night itself, and her skirt barely reaches her knees, giving her a lively appearance. At just over 130 cm tall, she looks like a child playing dress-up, but her translucent silver hair and shining golden eyes set her apart; no matter how you look at her, she doesn’t seem like a background character who would exit the stage immediately in the original work.
“——”
“Wait a minute. This is, um, I just tripped a little.”
In any case.
I lay on the floor, pondering how to explain myself to Master, whose face was gradually turning pale.
