Hello.
We have brought you here to this unknown world.
You will have endless questions but we will provide no answers, as that is your job, so have fun.
And just know… You aren't the only one.
Good Luck.
As soon as Kain finished reading the glowing words in front of him, the golden strands dissolved into the air like smoke in the wind—gone as quickly as they had appeared.
He instinctively looked up, his neck snapping as he scanned the area for any sign of whoever—or whatever—had conjured those words. But there was nothing. No movement. No sound. No life remained on this bloodstained battlefield but his own.
After a moment, Kain exhaled and brought himself back from his confusion.
'Okay... that was weird. But honestly, what isn't weird right now?'
Shaking off the unease, he approached the nearest body. If he was going to survive in this world, he needed supplies—anything useful. He crouched and began searching the corpse, his fingers working quickly through pouches and belts. A few coins clinked together as he pulled them free, then stuffed them into a small satchel strapped to his left hip.
'Let's just assume that message was from some god—or something like it. And that last part… "you aren't the only one." That means there are others, people from Earth, probably in the same situation.'
He moved to the next body without hesitation, rifling through it with practiced ease, as if his survival instincts had already adapted to this new reality. From this one, he retrieved two silver coins and a single gold coin.
'If these memories are right, then gold coins are worth ten units, silver five, and bronze one. Pretty sure there's platinum too—those are worth a hundred, but only the rich carry those around.'
He paused for a moment, glancing at the bloodied coins in his hand, then tucked them away. Kain looked up to the sky once again, basking in the heat of the sun, or whatever they called it here.
'Okay, so I'm a soldier, right? And there's no doubt this world has magic—after what I've seen so far. I should figure out what kind of skills this Kain guy had… or still has, I guess.'
Kain closed his eyes and sifted through the memories embedded in his new body. He traced through the fragments of Kain's life—his training, the battles he'd fought, the pain he'd endured—searching for anything that could give him an edge.
'He's young... only nineteen. Damn. It's kind of messed up that he had to die this early.'
He paused.
'But from what I can tell, he had a counter ability—definitely combat-focused. Looks like everyone in this world has magic to some extent, and it's all tied to the soul. No levels, no ranks, nothing like that. But if this works like a game, I should still be able to level up my stats or something…'
Almost on cue, a new set of words shimmered into existence in front of him.
But unlike the golden, ornate letters from before, these were plain and gray—dull, almost lifeless. No fanfare, no glow. Just text.
Awakened Soul
Ability: Counter
Kain stared at the floating words, the information already clicking in his mind. Just thinking about his stats was enough to summon them—it was intuitive, like breathing.
But that wasn't the part that annoyed him.
'That's it? Seriously? No cool UI, no long list of abilities? Just… "Ability: Counter"?'
He sighed.
'Man, in all the Isekai shit I've read they get a slick display with at least like ten different categories, but nope. All I got is this.'
'Fuck me.'
...
Every living being across the universe possesses a soul—but not every world holds magic. In this world, no one is born with the ability to use magic. It must be unlocked. And the key lies in awakening the soul.
Only through this awakening can someone harness the power of magic.
Kain had awakened his soul when he was just a boy.
It happened during one of the many rough days that made up his early life. At the time, he was already living on the streets, drifting from place to place, forgotten by his parents and the world. One afternoon, he stole a ball from a group of older kids playing near a school field.
They didn't take it well.
The group chased him down, cornering him in a narrow back alley. There, they knocked him off his feet and began kicking him, stomping him into the pavement with no mercy.
And then—something broke.
As his skull cracked against the concrete and his vision began to blur, something deep within him snapped open.
His soul had awakened.
In that moment, he gained his ability: Counter.
It wasn't a flashy or destructive power. It wasn't fire, or lightning, or any kind of grand spell. It was something quieter—sharper.
Counter allowed Kain to read his opponent's movements in real time. Whether it was a punch, a sword swing, or even an arrow in flight, his body instinctively recognized the threat and reacted—either by dodging, deflecting, or retaliating with brutal efficiency.
The ability itself was fairly common. In fact, some considered it more of a combat skill than a magical gift. But it was undeniably magic—just not the kind that lit up the sky or leveled cities. It worked by sensing the intent and direction of incoming attacks and instantly guiding the user toward the best possible way to respond.
And for a boy being beaten to death by people twice his size… it had been exactly what he needed.
The surge of magic that burst forth when Kain's soul awakened was enough to blast the older kids off of him, sending them stumbling back in shock and confusion. That sudden jolt of power gave Kain just enough time to scramble to his feet, instincts kicking in as the new ability took over.
With Counter guiding his every move, he managed to block, dodge, and strike back with uncanny precision—turning the tide just enough to hold his own. The older boys eventually ran off—more startled by the unexpected resistance than actually having been beaten.
But it wasn't a victory. Not really.
He didn't walk away triumphant. He was bruised, bloodied, and barely standing by the end of it. Kain had survived, yes, but it was less about winning the fight… and more about not losing it completely.
***
As Kain pulled four more silver coins from the corpse of another fallen soldier, a sudden rustle echoed from the trees just beyond the blood-soaked field.
His head snapped up.
Eyes narrowing, he stared into the dense forest where the sound had come from. His hand moved on instinct, wrapping tightly around the hilt of the sword strapped to his back.
The wind fell still.
For a moment, there was nothing—just the quiet hum of distant birds and the stench of death lingering in the air.
Then, movement.
A wolf stepped out from the trees.
Its fur was matted and grey, hanging in ragged tufts from its lean frame. It moved slowly but deliberately, its yellow eyes locked onto Kain like a predator sizing up prey.
Another wolf followed. Then a third.
Soon, two more emerged from the shadows, forming a loose semicircle around him, their low growls vibrating through the ground beneath his feet. Their jaws hanging open, fangs on full display as saliva drips down onto the grass.
Kain drew his sword with a sharp shing, the blade slicing through the air as he swung it out to his side. He had never actually wielded a sword before—not in his old life, at least—but he was counting on this new body's muscle memory and his Counter ability to carry him through.
Five wolves. He could handle five wolves. Probably.
He slid into a natural ready stance, feet planted, sword raised, eyes locked on the circling predators.
One of the wolves—the one that had emerged first from the trees—lunged.
Its claws flashed as it launched itself at him. But just as it struck, Kain felt something surge within him—a subtle pull, a current of energy guiding his movement. Magic.
He raised his blade in perfect timing, deflecting the wolf's swipe. But before he could breathe, another wolf was already mid-air, jaws snapping for his face.
Kain threw himself back, barely dodging the bite. He stumbled, steadied, and gritted his teeth. There was no time to think.
They came at him in waves.
Fangs. Claws. Growls. Snarls.
Left. Right. Behind.
Kain's body moved almost on its own, guided by that invisible force inside him. But even with Counter, he was still adjusting to the surge of battle so he was only able to focus on defense, for now.
'These motherfuckers are persistent.'
Another wolf sprang at him, teeth aimed for his skull.
He ducked hard. The beast flew overhead.
Time slowed and his instincts screamed.
Kain drove his sword straight up.
The blade punched through the wolf's belly, blood spraying down over him in hot, crimson streaks.
"Got you, bitch!" he snarled, voice filled with adrenaline and rage.
He twisted the blade and yanked it down, splitting the creature open midair before it crashed to the ground in a lifeless heap. Kain exhaled sharply, flicking blood off his blade as he stepped back into stance.
Four wolves remained, their snarls grew louder, more vicious, as they closed in with renewed fury. Then, without warning, all four lunged at once—fangs bared, claws outstretched.
Kain didn't panic.
He darted right, slipping just outside their path, every movement driven by instinct and the subtle guidance of his Counter ability. His feet planted firmly, his body twisted into the perfect position.
Without hesitation, he raised his sword high and brought it down in a brutal arc.
The blade sliced clean through the neck of the nearest wolf.
Its head separated midair, blood spraying as its body crumpled to the dirt, twitching once before going still.
Once again, the remaining three wolves lunged.
But this time, Kain didn't dodge. He didn't block.
This was his first real fight—a fight where a single mistake could get him killed. But now, he wasn't afraid.
He could feel the magic coursing through his veins, responding to his will. Counter wasn't just an instinct anymore—it was something he could control, bend to his movements, shape into something lethal.
Kain moved first.
He darted straight toward the center wolf, driving his blade deep into its chest. With one clean motion, he dragged the sword upward, splitting flesh and bone as the blade carved through the creature's skull.
Before the final two wolves could even turn, Kain was already moving.
He twisted into a wide arc, his blade slicing clean through both of them in a single, fluid motion. Blood sprayed as the wolves collapsed behind him, lifeless before they even hit the ground.
Kain's heavy breathing was the only sound left in the blood-soaked field.
He let his sword slip from his fingers, the blade hitting the dirt with a dull thud. His knees gave out, and he dropped beside it, sweat dripping down his face, chest rising and falling in ragged rhythm.
But he was alive. He'd won.
And more than that—he understood now.
Counter wasn't just about defense. It wasn't just some reactionary move meant to follow a strike.
It was prediction.
Reading an opponent's stance, the angle of their weight, the twitch of a muscle—it all fed into that sixth sense fueled by magic that was guiding him. Normally, the ability was meant to be used after an enemy attacked: dodge, block, then retaliate.
But Kain had pushed past that.
He had skipped the defense entirely and gone straight for the kill—attacking before they ever landed a blow. Why react to the enemy when you can make them react to you.
"I won... I actually won. Holy shit, that was intense!" Kain laughed, still breathless, his voice shaky but exhilarated.
'I get it now… Counter isn't just about reacting.'
'It's prediction—reading the other guy's body, the way they shift, the way they move. You don't have to wait for an attack. You can see it coming, adapt, and strike first. It's not just defense—it's strategy.'
He grinned, the adrenaline still coursing through him. 'It's like seeing the whole fight one step ahead.'
Kain stood up, grabbing his sword and sliding it back into its sheath. He brushed the dirt and blood off his clothes, then returned to scavenging the remaining bodies for anything of value.
By the time he was done, he'd collected twenty-eight bronze coins, thirteen silver, and nine gold.
"Not bad," he muttered, peering into his satchel at the small treasure trove. "Pretty good haul for my first day back from the dead."
He turned his gaze to the horizon. Beyond the trees, he could see the upper towers of the castle of Malika, looming tall over the city like a crown of stone.
'Yeah… not going that way. That's where the bastards who killed me are. I'm pretty sure the town Kain was staying in with the hunter group is in the opposite direction.'
He adjusted the satchel on his hip and took one last look at the battlefield.
"I need to tell the townspeople what those guards did to my old comrades," he said aloud, voice low but firm.
Then, without looking back, he started walking.