Run Away to Nowhere

Rumble, clatter!

Rumble, clatter!

My tailbone throbbed with every violent jolt of the wooden carriage. Inside this rattling box on wheels, I was executing a desperate escape, armed only with the meager trinkets handed to me just before my arrival by an entity that called itself ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a "god."

It had been nothing more than a brief whisper, but because the parting words dripped with such desperate, agonizing remorse, I found myself letting it slide. Besides, getting transmigrated into a high-fantasy realm was the sort of scenario virtually every guy daydreamed about at least once in his life.

"The only glaring damn issue is that this world happens to be the exact game I spent six hundred million won playing."

Six hundred million won poured down the drain of gacha banners, stat optimizations, and relentless grind. At first, I genuinely thought the characters ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I had raised from scratch would welcome me with open arms. You know how it goes in web novels and manga—tropes like I Transmigrated into a Game and My Guild Members Made Me Level 999!

Naturally, I assumed I was walking into that exact warm, fuzzy fairy tale. Which was precisely why I lingered near the summoning site for days, waiting for my beloved creations to arrive. But what finally caught my attention was not a tearful reunion.

"......?"

A cold dread washed over me. I was thoroughly, irrevocably screwed.

Strip away the cheesy romance and rose-tinted tropes, and what was I in their eyes? A callous puppeteer who commandeered their bodies at whim, dragging them through hell and throwing them like cannon fodder against monstrous deities and apocalyptic raid bosses. Why on earth would they throw me a welcome party? Why would they greet the very architect of their trauma—the man directly responsible for the horrific deaths of their closest friends, comrades, and kin?

Like hell they would.

The moment they laid eyes on me, they would draw their legendary blades and hack me into mincemeat. In fact, I should be on my knees thanking the heavens that they hadn't already blanketed the entire province in tracking mana-nets to vaporize me on the spot.

These were the parting boons granted to me by that so-called Administrator during my dimensional transit.

Thanks to the skill actively wiping my signature from existence, I managed to slip into an ordinary public carriage and put as much distance between myself and the manifestation point as humanly possible.

My destination? Didn't have one. My grand ambition? Plain survival. Did I feel remorseful enough to apologize to them? Technically yes, but since I would be turned into fertilizer long before I could open my mouth to say sorry, avoiding them forever was the only rational play.

"It's so damn unfair. All I did was play a stupid game..."

"Bwahaha! At first glance, I took ya for an outlaw on the run, but you talk like some lad fresh out of the sticks, don'tcha?"

"No, sir... I just, uh, need some time to myself."

"Telling a driver to just head as far away as possible without giving a destination... In ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all my thirty years holding the reins, I've never heard such a request! Hahaha!"

A wave of gloom crashed over me. The laid-back, luxurious other-world life I had envisioned was vanishing like smoke. Perhaps my misery was painted too vividly across my features, because another voice chimed in across the cramped cabin.

"Hey! Why the hell are you sitting there with a face like you're attending your own funeral?!"

It was a woman sitting opposite me, clearly an adventurer judging by the rugged gear she wore alongside her party members.

"My apologies," I mumbled. "I'm dealing with a rather pressing issue at the moment."

"Haaah? Sure looks like it! But when you sit there sulking with a stormy cloud over your head, it ruins the mood for the rest of us, ya know!"

"......?"

Was this a new kind of shakedown? Trying to pick a fight so she could squeeze compensation out of me? Unsure of what to make of the situation, I was about to bow my head and look away when the woman abruptly unslung her pack, producing several clay bottles and a fat bundle of smoked jerked meat.

"Spill it. Having a guy look like he's about to jump off a cliff right in front of us is leaving a bad taste in my mouth."

"Pardon...?"

"Um... What our leader means to say is that she's offering to hear you out and give some advice...!" a younger party member whispered apologetically from behind her.

"Shut your mouth, that's embarrassing! Just speak up like a man already!"

Before I knew it, the gloomy carriage cabin had transformed into an impromptu counseling circle fueled by cheap booze. She wasn't trying to shake me down after all; her gruff shouting was just an awkward attempt at cheering up a total stranger. The sheer absurdity of my initial paranoia coaxed a chuckle out of me.

"Hahaha... All right. Since fate brought us together like this, let me share a bit of my predicament..."

I spun a slightly modified fantasy rendition of my situation, masking the gaming elements under the guise of an unfortunate dispute.

"Good grief...!"

"That's utterly insane..."

"A continental purge order on your head?!"

"Aren't those people totally off their rockers?!"

Their reactions were magnificent. They leaned in, listening with heartfelt outrage as if my troubles were their own, nodding along and showering me with genuine sympathy. Then, seeing how helpless I seemed, they began offering invaluable survival tips for an aspiring adventurer on the run.

"Listen closely, kid! Never buy potions or armor directly from local guild branches—they rip you off on margins!"

"Always hit dedicated blacksmiths or specialty shops if you need dependable gear."

"When you're cashing in monster parts, stick strictly to the designated merchant brokers...!"

"And if you run into suspicious bastards, bash their skulls in before asking questions! Trust me, it's safer for your neck that way!"

It was a masterclass in local common sense, delivered with rugged warmth by genuine veterans. Overwhelmed by the kindness of people I had only just met, I bowed deeply in gratitude.

"Thank you so much. I will definitely repay this priceless knowledge someday."

"Bah, don't mention it. It's nothing."

"Heh, you remind me of my grandson back home, that's all. Pay it no mind, boy."

"Worry about keeping your own neck intact, old man!"

"Tch...! Just keep your head down and stay alive, kid...!"

Classic rough-around-the-edges types. Moved by their camaraderie, I asked one final question before we parted ways.

"By the way, what guild do you all belong to?"

"Hm? You didn't recognize our crest? Even toddlers in the cradle know our name!"

I shouldn't have asked. I really should have jumped out of the carriage before those words left her mouth. But the syllables tumbled past her smiling lips with terrifying clarity.

"We're from Avalon!"

"......?"

Why the hell is the name of my own guild coming out of your mouth...?

Is this a sick joke? Are you serious right now?!

Unable to keep the sheer horror from contorting my face, I offered a hasty, jerky bow, grabbed my sack, and—

I bolted like a scalded cat.

God damn it all! I thought you were friendly benefactors, but you were undercover informants all along?!

Clank—!

Clank—!

Figures clad in majestic, towering plate armor stood gathered in solemn silence, their eyes fixed reverently upon an ethereal projection suspended in midair.

The fortress city of Tintagel.

Reflected in the scrying spell cast by an Archmage was the image of a young man, collapsed onto his knees in utter hysterics.

"Damn it all! Why did you dump me in the very place where people want my head on a pike?! Dear God, why?! Uwaaaagh...!!"

Watching his desperate wails, the legendary knights gathered around the chamber erupted into completely divergent manifestations of tempestuous fury.

"Investigate every single mongrel who dared pose a threat to Him! I authorize full torture protocols! Carry it out immediately! Immediately!"

"Kill them. Kill them all. Slay every last one."

"Which piece of absolute filth dared perpetrate such an unforgivable sacrilege against our Lord...!"

"Tearing them limb from limb wouldn't begin to atone for this, would it?"

Not a single one among them considered for a fraction of a second that they might be the source of his terror. Instead, their righteous indignation flared toward invisible phantom enemies.

The woman seated at the head of the circular chamber finally raised her voice.

"As you have witnessed, upon His summoning, our Sovereign cried out in agony before erasing His presence entirely through unknown arts. We presume it to be an ability bestowed upon Him during His descent into this world, however..."

BAAAANG!

A thunderous crash echoed through the hall as another knight slammed her fist into the grand table, splintering ancient hardwood into kindling.

"Why in the world would our Sovereign flee from us?! Cease this pointless babble this instant and devise a way to bring Him home where He belongs—!!"

"That is impossible."

"Why?!"

The moment the word 'impossible' fell from her lips, the lethal, suffocating pressure radiating from the other ten supreme beings darkened considerably. The air grew so toxic with bloodlust that a single misspoken word would have triggered an instantaneous, violent slaughter.

Yet the woman at the head remained steadfast, calmly weaving her reasoning into steel-clad logic.

"So long as there exists a threat in His eyes, our Sovereign clearly desires to act entirely alone. Erasing His tracks was undoubtedly done to shield us from harm. Tell me—do any of you truly intend to defy His divine will?"

"............!"

Every individual gathered in this sacred hall was a champion who had received His personal grace, honored with the illustrious title of the Knights of the Round Table to enact His will upon the continent. To openly defy His intent was an impossibility they could never stomach.

Except for one.

A solitary woman with snow-white hair and crimson eyes sneered in open disdain.

"Shut your mouth. Do not dare test our loyalty with your silver-tongued sophistry. I shall act alone. The rest of you may grovel, scheme, or search as you please."

With those icy words, she shattered the massive chamber doors with a flick of her hand and vanished into the corridor. The gathering of ten was now reduced to nine.

Yet, as if fully anticipating her departure, the remaining knights merely disregarded her absence and resumed their counsel.

"Then it is settled. We shall dispatch external operatives to subtly assist His journey from the shadows."

Despite each being a transcendent powerhouse capable of upending the entire continent single-handedly, none could fathom a proper course of action. In their minds, only a single agonizing question continued to ripple endlessly: Why?

Amidst the heavy, tragic silence, only one person among them remained entirely lucid—a red-haired woman standing toward the periphery, who had arrived at the cold, unvarnished truth.

'Wait... Didn't he just run away screaming because he's terrified our crazy asses are going to murder him?'

It was the absolute bullseye. A flawless, one-hundred-out-of-one-hundred correct answer.

Yet she knew with absolute certainty that if she dared voice that thought aloud, her fellow knights would instantly butcher her into paste. She wisely shoved the epiphany deep into the recesses of her mind and kept her lips sealed.

And so, the world-conquering heroes of Avalon—the legendary slayers of the Demon King—decided, with a few rogue exceptions, to patiently await the day their master would willingly return.

Meanwhile, the helpless subject of their fanatical devotion was currently...

"Well, well... I'm well and truly fucked."

Having sprinted blindly into the wilderness, I found myself completely stranded and trapped inside the depths of an uncharted dungeon.