Edgerunners: The Heavenly Demon

Chapter One

"Shit..." With a mutter, a man stranded alone on a hill slowly opens his eyes.

"Fuck." He cursed, as the sunlight almost blinded him. Groaning, the man slowly stood up, and looked around his surroundings.

'Where the hell...?'

He was currently on a rather small hill, and down below, were rather weird things that he has never seen. There was a large, block rock ground, probably a road, he thought. But what were the things on the road that were moving?

Lumps of iron and metal, on four things that looked like wheels were somehow moving on this road, but he has never stuff like that. He can even see people inside of it, although most of them have given him a weird look, as if they were disgusted.

The closest he can recall were wagons, using horses to move, but those were used by normal citizens, and were way slower than this.

They weren't close to the speed of a normal arrow, but they were still fast, which was impressive. He thought that these people have to be high-ranked Martial artists, but that didn't make sense after he thought about it for a moment.

One, why would any high-ranking martial artist use this, when they can go hundreds of times faster by simply running?

And two, he wasn't sure if they were martial artists, because this place was nothing like his hometown, at all.

The man thought to himself, as he gazed at the large amount of metal in the distant. It was a forest, a forest of metal and iron, and weird, glowing things that float in the air. They were buildings, he thought, at least that was the most logical conclusion he could come up with.

Regardless, he put aside everything, and decided to think on how he even ended up here.

'I was fighting... someone, an old man, and there was some kind of sword in my hand. I... think I cut off his head, before a bright light came from the old man, and all the people behind him, and now, I'm here.'

The more he thought about it, the more problems arouse. An old man? He was sure he knows that old man's name, but he can't seem to recall it. Matter of fact, he can't seem to recall most of his memories, only tiny bits here and there, like his name, where he was born, some fights, and some of his martial arts, but even those were blurry. But what unsettled him the most, was that he called the sword he was handling in his memory 'Some kind of a sword'.

He was sure he had given it in a name, and even in his teens, he still had the sword, yet how could he forget even its name?

"Fuck that old man." After a few minutes of thinking, the man simply blurted out.

With a tired sigh, he tried to move.

'Eh?'

The moment he tried to move, he felt a sharp pain over all of his body, as if a knife has through all parts of his body, and he felt odd, as well. He felt weak, and fragile.

Ignoring the pain as if it was an everyday thing, the man looked down at his body.

First, his hand looked like it was gripping a sword, but there was nothing. Despite nothing being there, he still felt as if he was holding a sword.

The power of imagination was truly terrifying.

And second, he looked fragile, as if he hasn't eaten in a hundred days, like a malnourished man. He clicked his tongue, slightly aggravated that all his muscles suddenly turned into this.

And thirdly, and most important part, was that he had no clothes on. His manhood all in the open for the world to see.

"... Was that why they looked at me like that?" Letting out another sigh, the man looked around for something to cover himself with. Hell, even if it is only for his manhood, that would be enough.