That Time an American was Reincarnated into Another World

“ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE!”

Tana grit her teeth as the screaming threatened to make her ears burst. 

She barely felt the blood dripping from her eyes and nose, her heart beating at over 250 bpm and climbing as adrenaline flooded her body. 

She ran and clawed her way to escape but she couldn’t seem to find it amid the razor spikes that filled the complex. 

“YOU WILL DIE! YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE YOU WILL DIE! I WILL HOLLOW OUT YOUR FUCKING SKULL!”

Tana cried more blood as she continued to run through the labyrinth despite the floors being covered in jagged metal that sliced her feet. 

She reminded herself that it wasn’t real every second, but there had already been a few points through her escape that she had stopped believing that. 

She didn’t know what to believe anymore. She wasn’t sure if the floors really were jagged metal or if the spikes that occasionally shot out of the walls and drove through her heart were real. 

The times that she should’ve died, when she had collapsed in a pool of blood due to her unreal wounds, she passed out and woke back up an unknown number of hours later. It was a cycle of torment. The only way to win was to escape. 

But she had yet to find the exit. Every time she thought she was on the right path, felt in her soul that she was going the right way, Apocryon would show up at the end of a hallway. 

And the wounds he gave her then were very real. She knew because those wounds were the ones that made her body react, that pushed her toward the feeling of death that she had experienced back then at Purple Sky. 

They scared her. Once, she tried to push through it anyway, tried to ignore the horror and push through Apocryon’s attacks, even if it meant her real death. 

That time, she had been driven so far into instinctual, life preserving madness that she had actually managed to fight her way out of Apocryon’s vicinity, escaping back into the labyrinth. Normally that would’ve been impossible. He was three Authorities above her and one of the smartest warlocks to ever live. 

Yet she had managed. That madness had pushed her to an edge she didn’t realize she had. 

But it came at a cost. 

The vivid memories of that time were the only things that helped her remain disbelieving of the illusions in the labyrinth, but with every spike of pain, with every gaze upon Apocryon, her baseline seemed to be driven further into that madness. 

She had long lost track of the hours and days. She didn’t know if the King’s Assembly was over. But she knew that she had her limit, and it was approaching. 

She was hyper aware as she pushed through the labyrinth, her eyes bleeding as she pushed her senses to such high levels that her body strained to keep up. 

The labyrinth was endless. Apocryon wouldn’t allow her to escape him. She knew that just as she knew the pain he could inflict. 

But she pushed through anyway, refusing to believe there was no way out. 

The madness wouldn’t allow her to give in. 

Darkness encroached all around her. 

As she spent longer in the labyrinth, darkness started to invade. The grey metal spikes faded to black as she bled on them. The floors were coated in black footprints as she ran across them. The air was filled with light drinking fog as she heaved for air. 

It was surrounding her, left everywhere she walked. 

It took her some time to realize the darkness was coming from her. 

She didn’t know why. 

Plex would tell her that it was the other half of the answer. 

He would tell her that her body was already dead. It was why she was able to wield her Aura to disappear at all. 

She would tell him that he was spewing bullshit, that John could easily see through her, that Umara could find her anyway. 

He would tell her that she was visible not because her body was visible. Her body had already died. 

She would realize that John’s power of the mind made him her perfect counter.

“ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE!”

Apocryon’s voice screamed from everywhere and nowhere. Tana felt herself crack further. She knew she couldn’t take it much longer. 

She was desperately trying to live. Yet her body continued to move through the spikes. It continued to get impaled as she walked through traps. 

She felt every fiber of her being screaming at her to survive, the madness taking over. 

And yet as Plex watched from outside, all he could see was her calmly treading normal stone halls. Not running, not panicking, but walking with a measured stride. 

He saw the darkness blooming from her, coating Apocryon’s castle with her Aura. 

It wasn’t simply darkness. When it spread from the castle and touched those outside of it, touched the guards who had gone back to their normal patrols, they would all freeze. 

And then they’d draw their blades and slit their own throats. 

Plex recognized the darkness. Yet when it touched him, he didn’t so much as flinch. 

He had already rationalized Despair. 

The Medium of Death to most, the Medium of Damnation to those who understood. 

But Apocryon was unique. He hadn’t simply rationalized despair. He had adopted it. Had become it. He carried it almost as the King itself did, but because he lacked the sheer power, he couldn’t match. 

But it was more than enough for a kid like Tana. More than enough to overwhelm her. 

If she really escaped, then she’d get the respite she needed to rationalize Despair. Yet, that was exactly the reason why Plex said she’d only get one chance. 

She wasn’t meant to rationalize Despair. That wouldn’t help her disappear.

Thankfully she knew that escaping meant she’d lose. Her mind may not know, may believe the opposite, but her body understood. She was torn between them, unable to decide. The mind of a human was a powerful thing. Those who had fought the Scourge and had gone through some of the worst things a human could imagine had minds capable of miracles. 

She hadn’t known that her mental strength was precisely the thing holding her back. 

Plex knew what she needed. He didn’t know if she would come out of this properly. 

But all parties involved knew the risk. This wasn’t even Plex’s idea. 

It had just taken him some time to understand why he had been asked to throw a girl into the maws of the devil. 

And he had been asked to watch, so here he was. 

Watching a girl kill herself. 

He watched Tana march through Apocryon’s castle. Whenever she encountered him, she’d run away, and then once she was far away, she’d turn right back around and march toward Apocryon again. 

Her body knew what it needed to complete itself. 

It just needed to convince her mind to take the plunge. 

Slowly but surely there was progress, but every time she got close to the answer, Anarchy would kick in and save her. 

But just as her body started to break, so too did her mind. 

Plex watched as she was chipped and cracked, as her mind reached its breaking point, was repaired just slightly, and pushed to its limit once more. 

Over and over again she just barely dodged true death. 

Over and over again she experienced why Apocryon was so feared. 

But she always went back. 

Her body knew. 

Her mind started to get quiet enough to let her body take over. 

And then she reached the threshold. 

Plex could see it as it happened. He watched Tana walk right back toward Apocryon and then watched Apocryon attack her with fanatical rage. He had started to enjoy himself and yet his own pain left no room for mercy. He attacked to maim, torture, and kill, but she managed to keep herself alive. 

She never attacked. She only dodged. She danced around Apocryon’s death, suffering horrible wounds in the process. Her eyes were cloudy, her lucidity cracking as Apocryon’s Aura inflicted hellish pressure on her very soul. 

But this time was different, because she wasn’t escaping. 

Plex narrowed his eyes, got closer. 

He watched the ground shatter as a metal spike drove through Tana’s leg. She tore herself out of it as if she couldn’t feel it, yet she remained crippled. 

She used her arms to maneuver with her one good leg, and yet some minutes later one of her arms was sliced, barely escaping total amputation, yet still suffering severed tendons. 

It fell limp, and Plex could almost hear Tana’s heart pounding in her chest. 

Blood sprayed from her wounds, and for a second, Plex saw her body twitch, a cry of madness that demanded she escape. 

Yet as soon as the initial movement to escape came, it faded. 

A barbed conical spike drove through her abdomen, raising her off the floor and preventing her from escaping for good. 

Her eyes went blank. Her mind seemed to collapse, Apocryon’s Aura completely invading her body, attempting to snuff out her soul. 

Apocryon didn’t kill the flesh. 

The mad warlock’s body floated up to her laughing in glee. 

His Aura completely washed hers out. Plex couldn’t feel a hint of it.

Apocryon cackled, the depth of his madness echoing through the Trenches. Plex could already sense the Order getting closer. Powerful assassins drawing their blades in preparation. 

He felt Tana’s heart beating so fast that he thought it might explode. 

Until it suddenly stopped, Apocryon’s grin widening, his hands reaching for her head. 

So Plex stepped in. 

He broke the spike impaling Tana, launched an attack at Apocryon that the man blocked easily, and fled. 

He carried Tana’s dead body out of the castle, Apocryon screaming in madness as he gave chase. The Order stepped in simultaneously, Apocryon coming under attack, holy formations glowing in the dark and poisonous atmosphere of the Trenches. 

Plex simply ran, bringing Tana’s body away to the Founder’s market where he found a hospital. 

John had frequented this one often. Little did he know. 

Plex ascended to the top of the building, kicking open the door of an office and finding the person inside already standing, staring out a window. 

“Is there a reason I must be annoyed with these things, Plex?”

“Come on, Zobor. Don’t be a bitter asshole.”

Plex placed Tana’s body on a nearby couch, her wounds dripping, her heart still. Zobor, the gray haired old man standing at the window with wrinkles that counted his years, turned with an exasperated glare. 

Plex smiled. 

“If you could just give her some light healing. Close up the wounds.”

“You’ve brought me a corpse.”

“How much do you want then? I’ve got a blank check.”

“The point isn’t money. You think the Order is here to clean up your messes whenever you please to make them? Even further, you’ve gone and decimated your careful relationship with Apocryon! We guaranteed him one thing! Sleep! You couldn’t wait until he at least woke up to piss him off?!”

“Bah! You wouldn’t understand, wrinkle dick!”

“The fuck did you call me?!”

Zobor’s face reddened in rage, Plex bracing for the river of slurs that soon followed. 

He stood there, letting the rage vent while dodging the occasional attack. 

Then, he suddenly looked back at the couch. 

His eyes widened. 

“Hang on!”

“What now, you fucking wen-?!”

“She’s gone!”

Plex pointed, Zobor’s face snapping to the side to see the body gone. 

Plex stared, then started smiling. 

“She’s gone. How about that.”

“Yeah, and now my couch is soaked in blood! Buy me a new one!”

“Sure, sure. Not like I’m the one footing the bill. Anyway, my work here is done. I’m going home to sleep.”

“Hang on..!”

Zobor chased as Plex fled.

……

…

March 6th, 626

I sighed while stepping out of the Royal Palace. 

Despite my powerful mind, I was exhausted. More so socially than mentally. I had done enough talking for years. 

Since I was now responsible for raising an army of my own that would go on to build and man a Stronghold, there were a lot of details to flesh out. 

I had to settle contract buys with the King, and then with other Generals. Then I had to speak with the King about a new contract for my armament since the military wanted more planes, bombs, helicopters, and now vehicles. 

Then there was the auction, which we easily won against Gearworks. 

Then discussions with Talexia and Chief Ironheart for the purpose of getting soldiers from them. 

Then making plans with Sawn to quickly move forward with building a supply line beyond the River of Desolation to start the construction of the new Stronghold quickly. For that I needed to design a Stronghold as well. 

Discussions with the City Lord of Valence about the Train. 

Another discussion with Talexia about the sudden marriage proposal. 

Discussions with Sawn and a select few generals about a mass funeral I wanted to put together for the fallen of the Treehouse and Stronghold Charlie. 

There were many things to speak about. It felt like there weren’t enough minutes in the day even though I moved as fast and spoke as efficiently as possible. Even Umara was overworked, making deals with other nobles in order to ensure we had some measure of political support instead of pure opposition. According to her, Vatsy played smart and gave his assistance. Its extent was questionable to me but I let her deal with that, promising not to let her do her job.

Things ended about how I wanted them to, but it still left us drained. 

Umara leaned on me as we walked, more exhausted than I was. 

“Not sure if I would’ve rather been on the battlefield.”

“Yeah…”

I nodded in agreement, seeing my helicopter on a pad, Boris standing beside it, waiting to take us to the Whetted City. I needed to speak with the Chief more because we’d be working together extensively. 

I didn’t actually intend to buy so many contracts, and the Chief of the Raven Family expressed interest in supplying the manpower to compose my army. Not all of it, but most. 

I was keen to work with him because it would mean I had an army that wasn’t loyal to some noble or Kingdom territory, but to the Whetted City itself. That would give me supreme control over the troops. 

It would make them my troops. 

But we’d also get to rest in the Whetted City, so Umara and I were eager to get out of here. 

I wondered how Tana was doing. I left her with Plex a while ago, but I had yet to hear anything. Probably because I’d been locked in the Palace. 

Just as I thought that though, I felt my spine tingle, noticing a gaze on me. 

A gaze I hadn’t sensed until I noticed it walking up to me, only some feet away. 

“Barrier!”

I shouted, Umara reacting instantly, her barrier appearing around us not even a quarter of a second after I started moving, before my word even came out. 

Totenstahl appeared and I raised it as she prepared spells, the two of us aiming at the source of the threat. 

And when my barrel was raised, I saw a familiar face. 

My eyes widened, seeing Tana bloodied and on the verge of death. Totenstahl’s barrel rested inches from her eye socket, my finger already placing light pressure on the trigger, Umara’s barrier right between the end of the barrel and Tana’s face. 

“John?!”

Umara called when I ceased my actions, clearly unable to see Tana. 

I sighed, sending Totenstahl away. 

“It’s fine, Umara. It’s just Tana.”

“Huh? Where is she?”

“Right here.”

Tana smiled, suddenly falling to her knees. I went down and caught her, the blood on her body wetting my suit. 

Umara seemed to see her at that moment, her eyes widening.

“Tana?! The hell happened?!”

“...I did it.”

Tana muttered through weak lungs. I could feel her heart pounding out of her chest. She was utterly exhausted, her skin pale, flushed in some places. Her limbs looked weak, her muscles having shrunk, by my guess due to rhabdomyolysis. 

She had reached beyond her limits, and if what I wasn’t seeing was true, then she had succeeded. 

I made a quick decision. 

“We’re heading to the Tavera family. They’ll have a good healer.”

I picked Tana up, Umara running with me to the helicopter. I gave Boris his destination and we were in the air promptly. 

It was a short hop to the Founder’s Market where I jumped out of the helicopter with Tana in my arms, landing right in the middle of the Tavera Estate. 

The Patriarch was quick to greet us. 

“John? What are you doing here?”

“Patriarch, I could use a healer.”

He looked at Tana, now passed out. He seemed to strain to see her but since I was in contact with her, he didn’t have much trouble. 

He looked to the side and shouted. 

“Get Noemi! Quickly!”

A guard ran off, getting the healer as we went to the Tavera’s own hospital. They were a knight family and naturally had healers specializing in treating them. 

Noemi appeared and quickly went over Tana, cringing at the damage, throwing a dozen different recovery pills into her mouth and getting to work. 

I made sure to have Umara keep a hand on Tana. I noticed when I let go that others weren’t able to see her. It was like she didn’t exist until she came in contact with someone. 

Then again, even without anyone touching her, I could see her just fine. I couldn’t sense her walking up to me in the Royal Plaza, but I hadn’t had trouble seeing her. 

She just didn’t have Aura. Not a drop. 

I’d have to talk to her later about it, but for now, it seems like she succeeded in reaching her goal. She just needed to recover from what Apocryon did to her. 

After letting the healer stabilize Tana, I thanked the Patriarch and tried to give some compensation. He refused, instead speaking to me about his desire to send some Tavera soldiers to my army, including some of his children and grandchildren, so that they could get good experience. 

I agreed to take him up on the offer. A rough estimate from him said that he’d send at least a few hundred people. It wasn’t much but I was taking what I could get at this point. More importantly, the Patriarch was someone I wanted to keep on my good side, considering he and the previous Patriarch had some connection with the Church. 

With the deal made, I brought Tana with us to the Whetted City. 

Feiden would also be meeting us there, hopefully recovering well from his new Crown and Invocation.