RE:BLOODLINE
"THE REINCARNATION OF THE SO-CALLED PROTAGONIST"
"W-Where am i?"
I groaned as I forced my eyes open, the initial blur of my vision slowly resolving into clarity with each deliberate blink. The drowsiness that clung to me like a heavy fog began to dissipate, slipping away like a breeze that rustles through leaves on a quiet morning. My body felt heavy, almost paralyzed, as if invisible chains were keeping me anchored in place.
I scanned my surroundings, trying to piece together where I was. The room had an air of the past, adorned with dark wooden furniture and oil lamps that cast flickering shadows across cracked, aged walls. The scent of wax and something metallic lingered in the air. It was as if I were in the late nineteenth century, in this 'dream' of mine.
Then, a figure caught my attention. I could feel my breath hitch as I noticed a man striding across the room, his boots clicking against the wooden floor. He wore the deep blue coat of an eighteenth-century French soldier, complete with brass buttons that gleamed under the dim light and a tricolor cockade pinned to his bicorne hat. The sharp lines of his uniform and the polished gleam of his sword hinted at authority and purpose, as if he had just stepped off a battlefield frozen in time.
"W-Wait... Where am i?" I finally managed to speak, though my voice came out as a weak mumble, barely audible over the pounding of my own heartbeat. Panic began to seep in as I padded my torso with trembling hands, the sensation oddly disconnected, as if my limbs belonged to someone else. The coarse texture of my clothes surprised me—thick, scratchy fabric that felt nothing like the modern, familiar cotton I knew.
I glanced down and saw that I was wearing an old, rough linen shirt and wool trousers, their seams hastily stitched and worn thin in places. My chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as my mind raced, struggling to reconcile what I felt and saw with the impossible reality before me.
"I-Is this what i think it is? I've... I've been REINCARNATED TO ANOTHER WORLD!?"
"That's— that's right! I've been reincarnated into another world from the modern era!" I thought, the realization hitting me like a bolt of lightning. The pieces fell into place: the uniforms, the aged furniture, the distant echo of marching feet outside. This was the Napoleonic Wars, a time when men fought brutal line battles, shoulder-to-shoulder under a relentless storm of musket fire and cannon blasts.
"B-but what if I die here? W-wait, am I going to die?!" My heart pounded harder, the panic surging through me with an icy grip. "No, this is a game. This is probably a dream, right? Right!?" I repeated internally, desperately clinging to the thin hope that I'd wake up safe in my bed, my laptop still glowing with the screen of a history documentary.
The man in the French soldier's uniform paused, his eyes narrowing with cold and scrutiny as he turned toward me. His gaze was sharp, calculating, and for a moment, the room fell silent, save for the faint crackle of the oil lamp's flame. The weight of his stare made the air grow heavier, thick with unspoken tension, though I was unable to sense it.
YOU ARE READING
Re:Bloodline - Chaotic Journey on Another World Vol. 1
Historical FictionA boy, no older than fourteen years old, found himself reincarnated in the tumultuous era of the Napoleonic Wars, all after a mere whim. Upon glimpsing a video posted by one user that went by the username of "Punsisky," he had decided to indulge in...
