Memories Of A Past Life

It all started with an abnormal phenomenon that occurred at the beginning of this year.

As the new year dawned, something resembling a massive crack appeared across the moon shining in the night sky. The thick line, drawing a great arc across the celestial surface, immediately incited a massive uproar. Rumors flew instantly: a herald of a natural cataclysm, the work of a monster living on the moon—all sorts of outlandish theories. Panic-stricken citizens and villains looking to profit from the chaos quickly began brawling and arguing in the streets.

However, our beloved Queen Waltrude dealt with the situation swiftly. First, she ordered the Magic Research Institute and the state religion, the Church of Divine Light, to investigate the cause. After flipping through countless ancient texts and butting heads, the great scholars and priests reached a conclusion: this was an auspicious omen.

It was fortunate that the Holy Kingdom of Vilnia happened to be celebrating the milestone of its 500th anniversary. The Queen immediately issued a grand proclamation stating that this was a sign of good fortune, and the panic subsided in an instant. In reality, the lunar anomaly hadn’t caused any immediate problems, so this was a natural progression. Human beings are creatures that stop caring about things in the sky once they realize those things don’t affect them personally. The anomaly was named “The Moon’s Smile,” and the majority of people quickly returned to their daily lives.

I, however, was moving against that tide. I could never go back to those ordinary days.

Because, looking at that moon, I remembered. I remembered that this world is identical to a game I had played to death.

I don’t know if it’s right to call it a “past life,” but it seems I was once a Japanese person. No siblings, born to average parents, living average days. A safe student life followed by a safe job. Safe hobbies like gaming and watching movies. I did the work I was told to do efficiently but never moved proactively. I had a decent number of friends, but no best friend or lover I could truly open my heart to. Looking back, it was a life without waves.

My memory of what happened to my parents or my own cause of death is fuzzy. Perhaps because those are painful memories. Conversely, for some reason, I remember the contents of my favorite games with perfect clarity.

The one that sticks in my memory most is a title called Dragonia Chronicle. Popularly known as Dra-Chro, its genre was a crafting-based simulation RPG. The setting was a medieval fantasy world with the familiar tropes of swords, magic, and monsters. The protagonist, a “Transmutationist” (a job similar to an alchemist), would collect materials across various lands, craft items, and complete quests.

The first game was released late in the first generation of home consoles, making it quite retro. A sequel followed a few years later on the second-generation machines, which was also a hit. Later, the developer was absorbed by a major company; while only the brand name remained, the series itself continued up to the latest hardware.

Among them, the second title is the one reputed to be a masterpiece, and it’s the one I played the most. The game starts with the sixteen-year-old protagonist opening a workshop in a frontier village. From there, you till fields, raise chickens and cows, and build a herb garden. While marketed as a “slow life” game, it offered high freedom, branching into various routes based on your choices.

There was the “Village Development” route where you marry the chief’s daughter—the classic ending. The “Wealthy” ending where you become the master of a massive workshop in the Royal Capital. You could even master transmutation and live your life with a homunculus, or reach the “Academy Principal” ending by founding a school.

However, the most famous one was the ending where you fight a giant dragon that destroys the world. To put it simply, this route was insanely difficult. In the Dra-Chro series, you can train ally units, but unless you raise them all nearly to their level caps and equip them with the ultimate weapons and armor, you stand no chance against the hidden boss. Initially, there were no reports of anyone clearing it, and the difficulty was so high it was thought to be a “bad end” meant only to watch humanity perish.

A cozy nurturing game suddenly transformed into a full-scale strategy sim depicting bloody human conflict. This route, with its completely different tone, gained immense popularity among a certain segment of players. There were even rumors that this “tacked-on” content—essentially a different game entirely—was a parting gift from the director, who vanished from the industry after this project.

Putting aside those circumstances, as hard as it is to believe, every element of this world—races, history, geography, and names—matches Dragonia Chronicle 2. And, most troublesome of all, it seems we are currently on the “Most Difficult Route.”

The proof is that moon in the sky. That is no “smile.”

It is the dragon’s eye beginning to open.

After waking slowly over three years, the dragon will scatter a devastating light of destruction, turning the world into a sea of fire. As nations ruin themselves fighting over resources, the protagonist and their allies—including former enemies—unite for the final battle. That was the hot-blooded flow of the game, but…

When my memories first returned, I was incredibly excited. This was a world just like the Dra-Chro 2 I loved. I was moved to find traces of pixel art in the familiar scenery and felt a sense of nostalgia for the transmutation materials I used to handle without a second thought.

Then, after a full day of being giddy, doubt set in. Reincarnation in a different era or country is one thing, but being inside a fictional game is hard to swallow. I wondered if this was a grand prank or if I’d finally lost my mind. However, considering the existence of Oni and Beastmen—races that didn’t exist on Earth—and the reality of magic and transmutation, I couldn’t believe it was just a staged trick. There were other definitive “game-like” elements too, so I decided to accept it for what it was. Thinking about it forever wasn’t going to give me a clear answer.

And finally, realizing the situation, I fell into despair. I know this game inside out; I’ve read the strategy guides from cover to cover.

…………Starting from now, it’s too late.

Unless you train your allies and gather items from the very, very beginning, you have zero chance against the vicious final boss. Once the mark of awakening appears on the moon, too many crucial events have already been missed. It’s the kind of situation where you’d normally hit the reset button.

Of course, even if it’s exactly like the game, I can’t say for sure that this reality is perfectly synchronized with Dra-Chro 2. In the game, you start as a sixteen-year-old boy full of dreams and hope, whereas I am currently twenty-six and getting weary of my job. There are other small differences, so there’s a good chance it’s just similar.

However, if that’s the case, there’s even less hope. The protagonist is the protagonist precisely because they are on the other side of the screen. In this realized world, I am nothing more than an ordinary transmutationist. I don’t feel like I can gallantly head into battle or recruit famous figures (characters) through cool speeches and persuasion. I don’t even have the motivation.

That said, I don’t feel like sitting around and waiting for destruction, either. But as is true in any world, who says something is more important than what is said. If a mere transmutationist—and an “Ordinary” at that—goes around saying the dragon is waking and the world will end, it’s obvious no one will believe me. Besides, my source is the content of a game. Even I wouldn’t believe me.

So, after considering what an anonymous citizen could do, I decided to secretly spread rumors in various taverns. First, I needed to dispel the foolish impression that the moon was a “good sign.” Taverns, where rumors spread easily over drinks, were perfect. Don’t underestimate the idle talk of drunks. In this world of Dra-Chro, which has little entertainment, taverns are excellent hubs for information exchange. It makes sense that they were important facilities in the game.

In the first year after the lunar anomaly, the game featured a terrible harvest. If I spread rumors of ill omens now, they would surely be accepted easily later. Furthermore, in the second year, a plague is supposed to break out, and in the third year, disasters will strike everywhere. If people have a sense of crisis in the first year, they might take practical countermeasures early. All I had to do was gradually predict the disasters scheduled to happen. If the rumors came true, people would believe me, and the information would spread further. Once it reached that point, I could subtly mix in the rumors of the Dragon of Ruin.

Once the state begins to grasp the situation, there’s no more role for an individual. The final boss was an opponent meant to be defeated by a team of twenty. If the armies of various nations got serious, they might put up a decent fight. …………No, that’s probably impossible. In reality, the dragon would likely be thousands of kilometers long. But with game knowledge, I should at least be able to maneuver so that human resources aren’t depleted as much. I’ve gained the power for that, too.

I had drawn up that whole plan, only to have the rug pulled out from under me at the very first step by that unpleasant colleague. Well, since I never expected everything to go perfectly given all the uncertain variables, a large part of me feels “I guess this is how it goes.”

Besides, I’ve found the next starting point. The remote village I was ordered to open a workshop in—for some reason, I had completely forgotten, but that was actually “The Starting Village,” the initial spawn point in Dra-Chro 2.

And at my current level, I should satisfy the conditions for that to appear near the village. If so, there might still be a chance.

While I was lost in thought, I reached my lodgings before I knew it. I glanced behind me to check and quickly went inside.

“Oh, welcome back. What’s wrong? You’re home quite early today.”

The person who spoke to me was a Beastman woman with pointed, triangular ears. Even in the height of winter, she wore a sexy server’s outfit that left her shoulders bare, and it suited her well. Her name is Enni. A childhood friend a year older than me, and the landlady of my lodgings. This house operates a dining hall on the first floor, and a few customers were currently eating at the tables. Since it was past lunch, the place was relatively empty.

“I’ve suddenly been ordered to transfer to the countryside. Is Olli in?”

“That is sudden. He’s inside taking a break.”

I nodded and headed to the back counter. Leaning over to peek into the kitchen, I saw a large man who looked like a bear in a white apron, currently tilting back a mug. The owner of the rounded beast ears was Olli, three years my senior. He’s another old acquaintance; he runs this inn and diner with his wife, Enni, and their children.

“…………What happened, brother?”

With beer foam still around his mouth, Olli asked worriedly. We aren’t blood-related, but Olli, Enni, and I grew up in the same orphanage. For all his size, Olli is a sensitive guy who usually doesn’t speak much in front of others. On the flip side, his cooking skills are outstanding.

“They found out about my tavern-hopping. So, I’m headed to a backwater village until the heat dies down.”

“I see. Are you okay?”

I let out a small sigh at that question. I had told the two of them a bit about the circumstances, but I had no intention of involving them. However, as a result, I’ve caused them a great deal of trouble. This was all brought about by my own carelessness.

“The Knights seem to have their eyes on me, but there was no one following me.”

I had stopped and checked behind me several times after leaving the workshop to be wary of being shadowed. At my words, Olli narrowed his small eyes further.

“Now that you mention it, I saw the same face on the street about three times since this morning. A woman of my kin with black ears.”

“They were staking this place out… I’m truly sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Olli drained the rest of his mug in one go and continued with a grim face. “You should leave immediately. What about your luggage?”

“I’ll pack quickly. Sorry about the room, too.”

“Don’t worry about that either.”

I ran up the stairs, pushed open the door, and dove into my room. A transmutationist who handles large quantities of materials needs to keep things organized at all times. Thanks to that, packing looked like it would be over quickly.

First, I went to my desk and packed all my transmutation tools and textbooks that were neatly lined up. Next, the closet. I have no hobby for collecting clothes, so there were only a few sets; I packed them all. Once I added spare shoes, underwear, and socks, the shelves were clean and empty. I’d leave the bed, desk, and chairs. It was the least I could do as a nuisance fee.

Just before leaving, I couldn’t help but look back. I had spent over ten years in this room. There was no way I wasn’t attached to it. After a moment of reflection, I shook my head, closed the door, and headed downstairs.

Back on the first floor, Enni was waiting with her arms open. She gave my head a tight squeeze.

“I’m sorry for causing trouble. If any of the Knights come by, tell them clearly you have no connection to me. And please, use the things in my room however you like.”

“Don’t be silly. There’s nothing to apologize for. You did what you did because you thought it was right, didn’t you? Then stand tall.”

“You haven’t had lunch yet. It’s just whatever we had on hand, but take it.”

I gritted my teeth at their casual kindness. When I tucked the offered parcel away as if by magic, Olli and Enni’s eyes sparkled with smiles.

“This way. Follow me.”

Olli opened the door to the cellar in the kitchen floor and quietly beckoned me. Passing between large barrels and burlap sacks, a small, inconspicuous wooden door appeared on the back wall.

“This connects to the sewers. Can you make it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

The sewers of the Royal Capital are famous for being a habitat for slimes. I pulled out a “White-Glow Stone” lantern with a magnet and quickly transmuted some monster repellent.

“I’ll be sure to contact you once I’ve settled in.”

“Got it. Eat three meals a day properly.”

“Give my best to the kids.”

Olli gripped my hand firmly and gave a large nod.

After using the slime-repellent medicine, I headed west through the sewers. In the game, this was an event stage for infiltrating the Royal Castle, but I wasn’t in the mood to be giddy. Smelling a foul stench and wading knee-deep in numbing, cold sewage, I walked on in silence. After walking for about thirty minutes, I finally found a ladder leading upward.

Exiting, I found myself in a familiar back alley. After quickly using on my boots, I transmuted a deodorizing medicine and sprayed it evenly over my whole body. Blending naturally into the crowd, I safely reached the stagecoach stop in front of the West Gate. Fortunately, there were no Knights guarding this gate. They probably couldn’t spare personnel for a small fry like me.

Without any trouble, the carriage passed through the gate and began to run outside the capital. Just as I was feeling relieved by the vibrations reaching my hips, my empty stomach suddenly let out a growl. My stomach apparently remembered it hadn’t had lunch.

I pulled the parcel from my item list and opened it to find sandwiches. My favorite, egg sandwiches. As I bit into one, I noticed something at the bottom of the wrapper. It was several silver coins. It was worth about ten days’ earnings for Olli’s diner.

Workshop Master Barnabas, Olli, Enni, and their children do not appear as NPCs in Dra-Chro 2. In the text, they are the kind of existences that would be lumped together under a single line like “the people living in the Capital.” Yet, they have all lived naturally in this world and are important people who have shared connections with me.

As various thoughts surged at once and my eyes grew hot, I swallowed the incredibly delicious egg sandwich and muttered to myself as if giving a command.

“I will. I will definitely save them…”

For the first time, I truly meant it.

And so, my “safe” life took a sudden turn, entering a crossroads filled with turmoil.