A vast expanse of snow stretched as far as the eye could see. The trees stood rigid, their trunks and branches stripped bare after fallen leaves were swept away by a cruel winter. The air felt heavy and biting, the cold pressing deep into the lungs and making each breath shorter than usual.
Footprints cut across the surface of the snow in this silent forest. The lines were uneven, overlapping and fading, as if they were the last remaining signs of life amid the stillness.
Crack.
The sound of a snapping branch rang out clearly, breaking the silence as it accompanied the steps of a black-haired man. His hair was long enough to reach the base of his neck. His front bangs hung down, covering most of his face, especially the area around his left eye, as if deliberately hiding something he did not want anyone to see. A black cloth headband was wrapped around the top of his head, keeping part of his hair from scattering in the cold wind.
His outerwear looked worn and weathered, typical of a wanderer who had traveled a long distance with no certainty of where he was headed. The hooded poncho appeared dull, covering a black collared shirt beneath it. Gray trousers clung to his legs, while black bandages wrapped around his wrists, standing in contrast to the white snow surrounding him.
The man paused for a moment, then released a short breath. A thin mist escaped his mouth, lingering briefly before fading into the cold air.
I arrived in this world after a tragic accident. Yet instead of reaching the realm of death, I was transferred to a place that was completely unfamiliar, without any reasonable explanation and without the slightest warning.
He tried to recall how he had ended up here, how his consciousness had moved into a body that felt so familiar. But the more he forced himself to remember, the more confusion filled his head, as if those fragments of memory had stopped at the same point and refused to move forward.
Sasuke was supposed to be in the Naruto world, not here.
I was certain this was not the Naruto universe the moment I saw the beasts and monsters roaming the forest where I now stood. Massive snow bears capable of controlling the ice element, giant wolves with savage eyes, Drakes passing in the distance, and small creatures resembling Goblins. Perhaps Ice Goblins.
His thoughts spun again, trying to trace what had happened after his death. Was there something he had missed, or was there truly nothing left to remember? No matter how hard he tried, the last memory that surfaced was always the moment of the accident, cut off abruptly with no continuation.
I do not have a left arm.
His gaze fell on the empty side of his body. The condition was exactly the same as the original Uchiha Sasuke, who had lost his left arm after a fierce battle against his rival, Uzumaki Naruto. There was no sense of strangeness as he looked at it, as if this body had long since grown accustomed to that loss.
So now I am Uchiha Sasuke, living with this identity, walking through a world that was never meant to be his, enduring a situation he never chose.
Yet there was one irregularity that continued to disturb his thoughts. There were no personal memories of Sasuke. No childhood recollections, no emotional connections, no sense of attachment to anyone. All that remained was an understanding of power and abilities, firmly and completely embedded in his mind.
"Strange."
Another possibility surfaced in his thoughts. This body might not be the original one, but something else entirely. A vessel, or perhaps a clone.
Memory loss? That made no sense. If that were the case, I should not remember anything at all. Yet the reality was that all of Sasuke's memories, both from childhood and adulthood, regarding techniques, power, and combat ability, were still neatly preserved in my mind.
He let out another breath, this time deeper, allowing the cold air to fill his chest before slowly releasing it.
Forget it. Finding the nearest settlement was far more important than continuing to dwell on questions that might never have answers.
. . .
"Blood."
His attention sharpened as his eyes caught sight of a red stain on the white snow. Sasuke crouched down, examining it more closely, estimating whether the blood was fresh or had been left there hours ago. The surrounding snow appeared slightly disturbed, indicating hurried and unstable movement.
With the Sharingan in his right eye, he perceived traces of energy that had not fully dissipated. The flow felt unfamiliar yet recognizable, existing somewhere between something he already knew and something entirely new.
"Mana? Or aura?"
In a medieval fantasy world, there were various types of energy. Mana, Aura, Divine Energy, and Demonic Energy. Each had distinct characteristics and could not be treated as the same, even if they sometimes appeared similar on the surface.
This was likely Aura. The resemblance to Chakra was too clear to ignore. From the information I had gathered through novels, Mana was closer to natural energy, flowing from the surrounding environment rather than originating directly from within the body like this.
That way.
Sasuke's gaze followed the trail of blood as it continued deeper into the forest, running alongside irregular footprints. The pattern suggested more than one person moving together, most likely under pressure and not fully stable.
These footprints meant they were not alone. I only needed to get closer to find out what was really happening.
Without waiting any longer, Sasuke moved. His body vanished in an instant, accompanied by a brief gust of wind. The snow where he had stood scattered, then settled once more, as if no one had ever passed through.
****
Some distance away from Uchiha Sasuke's position, two women and one man stood clad in full armor, swords drawn and held at the ready. The armored man stood slightly ahead, his gaze sharp and calculating, constantly surveying the surroundings without letting his guard down for even a moment.
"Lady Duke, you need to rest. Your condition is not good."
"I'm fine, Nyra. I'm just exhausted."
The woman briefly glanced toward the armored man in front of her, confirming that the situation was still under control and that no threats were approaching, before turning her attention back to Nyra. The fully armored knight stood straight, clearly serving as both her protector and the most trusted right hand at her side.
"You just need to guard me. I need to recover my energy. Coordinate with Sir Vaelor."
"Understood."
Nyra stepped back behind the woman, positioning herself slightly to the side so she could still keep watch over their surroundings. The armored man named Vaelor moved forward, taking the outermost position, his body blocking any route an enemy might use. He ignored the pain and wounds across his body, forcing his focus to remain sharp as he protected the Lady he served.
For a brief moment, his thoughts returned to how they had ended up in this situation.
Damn traitors. I will cut down anyone who dares betray Lady Duke.
Nyra lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the sword in her grip. Her hand trembled faintly, not from fear, but from exhaustion after an intense battle against high-level hired assassins who had targeted the woman behind her. Her breathing was slightly heavy, her chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm.
A cold gust of wind carrying fine snow struck her pale face. Her black hair was in disarray, while her clear blue eyes, sharp like frozen water, swept across the surroundings without missing a single angle.
"Nyra! They're coming!"
Her body jolted at Vaelor's voice. The concern in his tone was unmistakable, no longer concealed behind the calm he had maintained before.
"Can you tell how many there are?"
"Hah... their aura is dense and strong. Most likely three."
"Three."
Nyra released a quiet breath. That number alone already put the two of them at a disadvantage. Without the woman behind her, who was still recovering her energy, it would be extremely difficult for her and Vaelor to hold off the approaching enemies. More importantly, the real target was clearly neither her nor Vaelor, but Lady Duke, who was currently in her most vulnerable state.
Crack.
The sound of a snapping branch came from the side. Nyra turned instantly, as did Vaelor, their bodies tensing at the same time.
Four.
Vaelor tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. His estimate had been wrong. The number was higher than he expected. From the pressure of the aura he could sense, two of them were not far below his own level.
We're at a disadvantage. Nyra and I are already exhausted. There's no other choice. Someone has to hold them here and sacrifice themselves.
He turned toward Nyra, his gaze firm, leaving no room for argument.
"Go with Lady Duke. Don't look back. Run as far as you can until reinforcements arrive."
Hearing that, Nyra bit her lip until it hurt. Deep in her heart, she rejected the plan. But the safety of the woman she served mattered far more than the man standing before her. Even so, her body remained stiff, her legs refusing to move.
"Don't hesitate, Nyra. Go before it's too late. Now!"
She flinched. Her chest shook violently, her breath caught for a moment. Her gaze shifted to Lady Duke, then returned to Vaelor. The conflict was clear in her eyes, torn between personal feelings and an unquestionable duty.
She clenched her fist, then slowly loosened it, as if forcing herself to accept the decision.
"A good plan, but you won't be able to escape."
The voice rang out calm and clear. One of the assassins stepped half a pace forward. All of them wore similar black attire that wrapped around their bodies, leaving only their eyes exposed, reflecting a cold glint. The man who had spoken turned toward his companions and gave a brief instruction without hesitation.
"Spread out. Don't leave them any opening to escape."
"Understood."
The other three responded in unison. They moved swiftly, spreading out according to their leader's command and forming a tight encirclement, sealing off every possible route of escape.
Nyra saw it clearly. There was no room left to retreat. The path that had still been passable moments ago was now completely blocked.
That brief assessment was interrupted by a gentle voice beside her.
"I'm sorry for making you worry."
"Lady Duke."
Vaelor glanced back for a moment, confirming the woman's condition, before refocusing his attention on the assassins. His posture remained firm, even though his body had already reached its limit.
Lady Duke, or more precisely Elisvaria Velmora, was the absolute ruler of the northern territory, bearing the title of Duke under the Valdorian Empire. Her name was widely known, not merely because of noble blood, but because of the weight of authority she had carried since a young age.
Two years ago, the previous Duke, her father, stepped down and entrusted that heavy position to her when she was only nineteen. An age far too young for such responsibility. Yet her father's decision was unwavering, as if he had seen something others could not.
Lacking sufficient experience and burdened by political pressure from multiple factions, the past two years had been filled with obstacles. Pressure, threats, and calculated schemes came one after another. Even so, through patience and the foundation her father had left behind, she managed to overcome them one by one.
As time passed, assassination attempts grew increasingly frequent. Poison, curses, even lethal traps laid when she was beyond direct protection. All of it was meticulously planned, leaving no obvious trace.
Her enemies were extremely careful. Every trail was cut off swiftly, every subordinate silenced before they could speak. Although she had repeatedly uncovered and executed those acting from the shadows, the true mastermind was never touched.
I knew this would happen again. Father, will your daughter die here. Would you grieve if that were the case.
Elisvaria formed a faint smile. Her gaze shifted between the two knights standing before her. There was no fear on her face, only calm mixed with acceptance, as if she had long prepared herself for a moment like this.