Beast Realms: Trapped in the Game

"Wake up, little brother! Time to start your training!" Terr announced enthusiastically the next morning, practically dragging Wein out of bed.

Wein groaned, still half-asleep. "Just five more minutes…"

"Nope." Terr yanked him up without mercy. "Didn't you say last night you were excited to start training?"

Wein rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Training? What training?"

He froze when Terr's grinning face came into view.

So… it wasn't a dream after all.

Last night, Wein had hoped he'd wake up in his own room, that everything would return to normal.

But no—it wasn't a dream. He was still here, in a world that should've only existed inside a game.

Most people might be thrilled to suddenly find themselves in a fantasy world. Who wouldn't want to live somewhere with spirit beasts, magic, and legendary quests? 

But based on his knowledge of the game, Wein knew this world wasn't all wonder.

Wein liked playing this game, sure. But living inside one? That was something else.

This world wasn't just magical—it was dangerous. 

Terr, noticing his dazed expression, sighed and dragged him out of the room.

They arrived at a massive training facility, easily the size of a football field. The enormous stone building was built specifically for challengers. For just one beast crystal a day, anyone could rent a private room equipped with practice weapons and training equipment.

Terr's excitement was contagious. Seeing him so energized, Wein straightened his posture and clenched his fists.

Yes. He didn't have time to be lazy. If I want to reach the peak of the Beast Tower, I have to take this seriously.

Terr tossed him a wooden sword from a nearby rack. "Let's see what you can do."

Wein caught the sword awkwardly, but managed to hold it firmly.

Strangely… it felt familiar. Too familiar.

But how? He had never handled a real weapon—unless you counted kitchen knives.

He vaguely recalled his older brother teaching him some self-defense when they were younger, but that didn't involve swords. Besides, after his brother's death, Wein had abandoned training and immersed himself in gaming.

"Come on, let's start. Don't hold back," Terr said, raising his sword.

"Alright." Wein did his best to mimic Terr's stance. Feet shoulder-width apart, one foot slightly in front of the other, and knees bent.

"Here I come!" Terr lunged, his wooden sword aiming straight for Wein's chest.

Without thinking, Wein raised his sword.

Thwack!

The blow landed hard. His arms trembled.

"Hiss… So strong," Wein muttered under his breath.

He already knew Terr was strong just by looking at him, but that strike alone told him—Terr didn't just have strength. He knew how to control it.

Wein ignored the numbness spreading through his arms and swung his sword in return. But his strike was clumsy and easily blocked.

He struck again, and was blocked.

"Come on, is that all you've got?" Terr teased with a grin.

Wein gritted his teeth and observed carefully. He noticed that when Terr struck, he always snapped his wrist at the last moment.

He tried to mimic it. Relaxing his muscles, Wein let his wrist flick as he swung.

Thwack!

This strike landed with more force and control than before.

Seeing Wein copying his moves, Terr's grin widened—and he sped up his strikes.

Each clash of wood against wood made Wein's arms ache, but he held on. The two exchanged blows—strike after strike echoing in the training room. Wein's body began to move naturally, muscles responding in rhythm.

Still, he knew Terr was holding back.

Then, Terr's strikes grew sharper. His blade moved with increased precision, and Wein had to focus more just to keep up.

Suddenly—Terr feinted, then twisted into a surprise double strike. It caught Wein off guard.

The attack should've landed cleanly against his ribs—but his body moved on its own.

Something deep inside him stirred.

Without thinking, Wein twisted his torso, blocked both blows with perfect form—and mirrored Terr's technique with uncanny accuracy.

Terr's eyes widened, and he was forced to take a step back.

But Wein's body didn't stop. He followed through and delivered a sharp counterstrike.

Terr seemed surprised by Wein's movements but quickly adjusted, his expression sharpening as he began to take the spar more seriously.

Wein struck—and was blocked—but he didn't falter. With each clash of their swords, his momentum built. His movements flowed faster, smoother, the rhythm of the fight guiding his blade.

Then—

Crack!

Both wooden swords splintered from the force.

They froze.

"Well, not bad," Terr said, chuckling. "Looks like even if you lost your memories, your body still remembers how to wield a sword. That'll make things easier."

But Wein just stood there, gripping the broken hilt tightly.

What the heck just happened?

He knew—he'd never trained with a sword in his life. Yet in that moment, his body had moved flawlessly.

It was like someone else had taken over. His thoughts were his own—but his body had acted on its own accord.

It was terrifying.

It felt as if he was being controlled.

No… that couldn't be it.

Maybe he was just naturally talented and his body was instinctively suited for swordsmanship?

He recalled what Alfa and Terr had said about the Elite Families—about how their members were born with frightening aptitudes and learning abilities.

Maybe… just maybe, the blessing they spoke of had extended to him because of his black hair?

If so… thank you, God.

I won't waste this talent. I'll climb the Beast Tower and find my answers.

"Wein, you alright?" Terr asked, noticing his distant expression.

Wein blinked, then smiled faintly. "Yeah. I was just thinking… maybe you're right. God didn't forsake me after all. Even if I've lost my memories, I've still got something left."

"I see," Terr said with a proud grin. "Then let's go again!"

"Okay." Wein tightened his grip on the broken hilt.

This time, he'd give it everything he had.

Terr would only be around for one week. Once he received his new sword, he would head to the center—to challenge the tenth floor of the Beast Tower.

And Wein would make sure to learn everything he could before that day came.