The World Is Mine For The Taking

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Shredica's POV

In my memories, I was forged from birth into a relentless warrior, trained rigorously from a young age. I fought in countless battles and wars against rival factions, far beyond the conflicts at Hope Island. I was shaped into a weapon for humanity, tasked with reclaiming humanity's lost dominion over Earth.

I surged through three grueling campaigns to retake islands, annihilated demon zombies from their strongholds, and rose to become the ultimate soldier humanity had ever envisioned.

In my memories, I was a beast driven by an insatiable hunger for combat. I was born to fight, my existence defined by relentless bloodlust. I never wavered in my belief; not for a second did I question that everything I endured was anything but real.

I loved everything, or rather, I was consumed by it. I didn't have feelings of love or affection for anyone or anything—not even Jess and Minerva, who had been my guardians for the last two years, or the weapons I wielded in countless campaigns. I didn't hate them, but love and affection were absent. My emotions were hollow, void of anything soft or warm.

What I did feel was an obsession with the raw, visceral nature of it all. I loved the scent of that world—the stench of post-apocalyptic destruction, the reek of demon zombies, the blood and sweat of monsters, and the thrill of battling rival factions. My love was tied to violence, war, murder, and everything that existed in the savage in-between. That was who I was.

So, when that thirst was ripped from me, I spiraled into a frantic, desperate state.

***

I woke up to the sight of a bird gracefully landing on a thick tree branch, sunlight streaming through the dense canopy of leaves. The tree was enormous, its towering presence almost surreal in this post-apocalyptic world. But wait—how could there be a tree like this in a land ravaged by destruction? Was this Hope Island? No, it couldn't be. I'd never seen anything like this in all my time there.

This tree was far too massive, too ancient to belong to the forest of Hope Island.

Could this be part of the main islands? But that didn't make sense either. The main islands were littered with demons, scorched by the Ruination, leaving no room for life like this. So where was I? Was this some undiscovered island? If so, it must have somehow escaped the Ruination's wrath, untouched by the devastation that consumed the rest of the world.

I remembered falling into this place, though I had no clue where "here" actually was. I stood up and made my way out of the forest, only to stumble upon a village. Finding a village in this post-apocalyptic world felt surreal. The place looked like it had been frozen in time, isolated from the rest of the world.

The houses were crudely built from wood and thatch, and the people didn't look the least bit modern.

If this wasn't a dream, they might not have progressed beyond a primitive lifestyle.

I advanced towards the village with caution. Given the possibility that this place could be under the control of a rival faction, I gripped a knife tightly in my hand, ready to strike. I could effortlessly slice through anyone's neck, even with my eyes shut.

As I stepped into the village, the villagers' gazes met mine. The scene before me was even more rudimentary and backward than I had anticipated.

The villagers were engrossed in collecting wheat and fruits, their entire livelihood clearly dependent on farming. Their curious and wary eyes followed me, with particular focus on the knife I held.

"C-Call the Leader…!" someone shouted, panic clear in their voice.

Reacting swiftly, I darted towards the source of the shout. I tackled him, pinning him beneath me with a forceful shove. My knife hovered menacingly over his neck, its blade catching the light in a cold, threatening gleam.

"What is this place?" I demanded, my voice low and harsh.

"U-Uh…"

"Speak, or I'll slice your throat."

"N-No, please! I have a son and a wife!"

My eyes narrowed, my gaze growing colder as I stared him down, unfazed by his pleas.

Suddenly, a wave of bloodlust crashed over me. Before I could react, a powerful force slammed into my side, sending me flying backward. I managed to roll with the impact, landing on my feet, my grip tightening on the knife as I turned to face whoever had attacked.

"Who the fuck are you?" she growled, her expression twisted in anger. I was used to wearing an angry face myself, but hers was something else—something that could probably outdo mine on any given day.

She was an older woman, probably in her late twenties, with wavy red hair cascading down to her waist. An eyepatch covered one of her eyes, adding a menacing touch to her already fierce appearance. In her hand, she held a whip, coiled and ready.

I pushed myself up from the ground, straightening my posture and meeting her fierce gaze head-on. "What is this place?"

"Don't answer my question with another question," she snapped back. "If you want answers, you'll give me some first. And start by explaining why you attacked one of the villagers."

She seemed reasonable enough to talk to, so I lowered my blade slightly. "I am Shredica, known as the strongest soldier in humanity. You must have heard of me before," I said.

"That's all news to me," she replied, her eyes narrowing with disdain.

"You don't know me? I'm sure someone from a rival faction of Hope Island must have heard of me," I said, locking my gaze with her fiery crimson eyes. "Or at least heard rumors. There's no way you haven't heard of me, given that I've reclaimed demon-occupied lands three times. If you truly haven't heard of me, this place must be so isolated that it's not even aware of major events."

"So, Shredica, the so-called strongest soldier in humanity, why did you attack one of our villagers?" she demanded, her glare as sharp as her whip.

"I was just trying to find out where I am," I shot back, my own glare matching hers. "This place looks untouched by the Ruination, and I needed answers."

"Ruination?" The woman tilted her head, her expression one of genuine confusion. "That's news to me too."

"What?" I asked, bewildered. "You've never heard of the Ruination?"

"I don't know. Never heard the term before," she replied, her hand resting on her hip with a casual air.

Was this land so isolated that not only had the Ruination failed to reach it, but the very word hadn't even made it here?

"Where the hell am I, really?" I demanded, frustration seeping into my voice.

"The village of Rakan, part of the Bethlan Kingdom," she replied with a smirk.

The name meant nothing to me. I was certain no one would be reckless enough to establish a kingdom in a world overrun by demon zombies. This place made no sense. Where in the hell was I?

***

The red-headed woman explained that the kingdom I found myself in was currently torn apart by civil unrest. She was here because she had been hired to put an end to the insurgencies and keep the various rebel groups from tearing the kingdom to shreds.

Not long after, I discovered that this world wasn't Earth. There was an acrid feel of demonic essence clinging to everything, but another energy hummed beneath it—something they called mana. Here, magic was a weapon, and swords were wielded by those who could handle them.

The red-headed woman filled me in on the things I had no clue about, covering everything from the basics of this world to the intricacies of mana. Surprisingly, she was pretty lenient with me, despite the fact that our first encounter involved me pressing a knife against one of the villagers she was supposed to protect.

They assigned someone to keep an eye on me—a woman named Arianne. She had orange hair and looked like your average girl-next-door type, the kind who might work as a waitress in her father's bar. The red-headed woman told Arianne that my mind wasn't quite right, that I needed someone to watch over me. That someone was her.

It pissed me off, being labeled as some kind of mentally deranged person who needed a babysitter. But I couldn't deny that I needed the help, considering I still didn't have a clue about this world. So, I swallowed my pride and accepted it, even if it grated on me.

At some point, Miss Eris, who was the red-headed woman, had made the group that she was in a rebel group that wanted to go against the monarchies of the Kingdom of Milham. I had no idea why she wanted to dismantle the monarchy ruling, but I have heard that it had something to do with what she heard with the conversation with one of her colleague that was working at the castle.

The other reason was that she also discovered the many laundries that the nobles of the kingdom that hadn't been aired yet.

The Silver Blade, originally just a mercenary group in the Underground society, had morphed into an insurgent faction aiming to topple the monarchy. They started recruiting those left behind by the Kingdom, and Miss Eris, their leader, was known as "Leader."

She invited me to join the Silver Blade. I was getting bored with the peaceful situation I found myself in. I was a bloodthirsty person who craved the rush of battle. I wanted to fight, to clash with someone who could match my skills. I'd tried to ambush Miss Eris several times, hoping to face off against her, but she never took me seriously.

That's why I joined the Silver Blade—I needed to feel the rush of combat again, to sink my teeth into the chaos of battle once more.