"R...Ragnar... You are alive?!"
While Ragnar was still trying to figure out a way out of his embarrassing situation, a loud yet steady masculine voice from the crowd behind him spoke in astonishment, addressing him.
Ragnar tilted his head toward the speaker, a tall youth with an impoverished, slender physique. Long, messy black hair framed his face, and his dark eyes shone with astonishment as they observed Ragnar. He looked no older than eighteen.
The words of the youth seemed to have triggered some reaction in the chattering crowd, as they instantly turned silent.
Their eyes were now fixed on Ragnar.
Including the wailing mother, the two older women consoling her, and even the sobbing husband, all paid extreme attention to Ragnar.
The new influx of attention made Ragnar very nervous and curious. He could not help but wonder what the status of the original Ragnar of this world meant to the others, and what had happened prior to his transmigration. Seeing as the boy was surprised to see him alive, he thought the original Ragnar might be deadly sick or had gone missing.
But his deduction was far from the actual lore.
While Ragnar was lost in thought, the wailing mother took her time to observe his visage with the help of the dull light from the clay oil lamp, and her expression twisted as she yelled, "It is really Ragnar.... He is alive?!"
As she yelled, she began crawling backward as though she had just seen a ghost. The other woman beside her followed suit.
They created a small distance and observed Ragnar with sincere astonishment, one that could be easily mistaken for horror.
Their actions were a confirmation for the crowd outside, and it sparked further reactions.
"Ragnar is truly alive!"
"How is he alive? I saw him die with my own two eyes!"
"The brutes from the neighbouring settlement beat him to death when he tried to stop them from stealing our harvest two days ago. I witnessed everything!"
"Yeah, I was even there when they tossed his corpse into a pit. I even made efforts to bring his body out to give him a proper burial, but the pit was too deep!"
"I don’t know what is happening in this place anymore. I swear it is really cursed!"
So many discussions sparked amongst the crowd.
From their discussion, Ragnar discovered that the owner of the body he was inhabiting was actually dead!
’What the heck, Onyx? Why was I transmigrated into the body of a dead man? How am I going to explain myself to these people?’
Ragnar felt that both Onyx and her creator had purposely set him up. They even made him reveal his identity by triggering a quest forcing him to console the woman — they were actually plotting his downfall!
|| Do not be shaken, host, your situation is actually advantageous if you manage to play your cards right . ||
’Advantage, where, how? What if they tag me as an abomination and burn me to death?’
This time, Onyx left him hanging, fueling the anger boiling up within him.
The chattering around him continued to intensify as time went by.
The attention of the people was no longer with the mourning family. It was now fixed on him.
Socially awkward, Ragnar found the attention uncomfortable.
Heck, he couldn’t even decide what his next action should be — should he smile and try giving some sentimental speech, or should he run? So many options appeared in his head, but they all sounded foolish.
’I should settle down and go through this wisely.’
Ragnar took a long breath and stood up from his squatting position. He faced the crowd, who were now looking at him with all sorts of expressions.
"Ragnar, how are you still alive? What happened?"
The messy, black-haired youth asked.
The chattering of the crowd reduced. Everyone wanted to hear what Ragnar had to say.
"I don’t know how I’m alive," Ragnar admitted. "The only thing I remember is waking up in my bed not long ago."
Although he answered nervously, his voice was stable and was able to cloak his nervousness.
"You don’t remember anything?"
This time, several people questioned in unison.
Ragnar shook his head slowly in response while observing their expressions one after the other — fortunately, none of their expressions revealed any bad intentions, only surprise. This gave Ragnar a little hope of making it out alive.
A round of discussion emerged once more.
"How can this be? He is alive but he does not remember anything?"
"Could it be that he resurrected?"
"Yes, that could explain it."
"Ragnar has been catering for the village for a long time. Although he is very young, he has the disposition of a leader."
"Maybe the ancestors have given him a second chance to take care of their people! Come to think of it, our last annual offering to the ancestors for protection and provision was just yesterday!"
"Our prayers have been answered!"
"What the fuck are you guys talking about! Didn’t you hear me when I said this place is under a curse. It seems you guys are under a curse, too!"
The discussion started as mere disbelief and astonishment, but upon a single statement by an elderly person in their midst, the discussion went in another direction.
Under Ragnar’s astonished watch, the crowd turned from questioning each other to a passive celebration.
The new development was nothing Ragnar expected from the get-go.
"Ragnar, welcome back to the living," an elderly woman among the crowd stepped out. She made her way towards him with the support of a wooden cane.
She held his eyes and smiled at him, revealing a set of yellow, crooked teeth.
"I never expected I would experience a miracle during my time."
Ragnar forced a kind smile as he was speechless.
Not long after the elderly woman, the others began to gather around him.
"Ragnar, let me touch you!"
"Ragnar, I’m only two years older than you, let us mate tonight."
"Let me touch your miraculous balls!"
Faced with the sudden fanning from the crowd, Ragnar could only wear an uncomfortable smile as they crowded him.