To Be An Adventurer (Danmachi Fanfic)

Prologue

//Relatively new author. My work is decent at best but it'll get better as it goes. 4 chaps a day, 2 here 2 on Pąťreøn. 2k or more words per chapter.

The plot will obviously be explained as it goes. Main love interest is Tiona, though it'll likely be a slow burn given the personality of the two, and I don't like to rush things.

Join the discord and Pątřeøn and I'll never drop the story, of which will most likely last only 600- 1000 chapters. It should be finished within a year. The goal is $400 a month before the end of June, so I'll be working like crazy on those chapters.

Help a man pay his rent.

Pa treon:
Pãtřęøn.com/ShadowDrev
Discord:
https://discord.gg/uQUcWbm
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Tap! Tap!

"Hello? Is anyone in there?"

Tap! Tap! Tap!

"Don't tell me you up and died. That would be a buzzkill."

It was hard to say what woke the young man from his deep slumber, the rapid tapping of his cheek or the incessant chatter coming from seemingly multiple individuals. Whichever the case, Aamon eventually opened his eyes, neon purple hues greeting the world as he slowly regained some semblance of consciousness. One by one, his senses returned. The feeling of the hard dirt floor beneath him, the smell of trees and various vegetation, the sound of screeching and wailing from unknown sources, and the sight of two individuals he had never seen before, gazing at him with a mixture of both curiosity and immense concern.

"Oh, he's alive," one of the figures exclaimed in surprise, a young girl of around 15 or 16. "That's a relief."

"Lucky we came around when we did," the other woman beside her said, crossing her arms over her bossom. "You were nearly torn apart. How'd you even get down here? Where's your party?"

Aamon didn't answer right away, mainly in part of the fact he had no idea what the woman was droning on about. Well, it was easier to say that he had no idea about anything, including as to where he was or how he had wound up in that given environment. His mind felt muggy and clouded, as if someone had smushed and suppressed all smidges of memories and logic from its recesses. His body moved as it was meant to, Aamon being able to freely sit up and move his appendages appropriately, but his thought processes were hindered, limited to thinking and analyzing. Anytime he tried to recall things about himself, about who he was or where he came from, he was introduced to a metaphorical wall that would slap him backward like a mere fly.

For the time being, all Aamon could do was ride along with what he had. At the very least, he didn't feel any particular emotions about the predicament such as panic or anxiety, though he didn't really feel anything at all if he was being honest with himself, which was concerning in and of itself.

"Are you okay? Can you understand us?"

Aamon shifted his focus from his inner contemplations to the ones who had woken him up, purple hues sizing them up.

Standing in front of him was a slender female, a tad taller than he himself was, around 165cm or so. She had medium length black hair, dark green eyes, and a color of skin that the young man had never seen on someone before, a shade not quite brown but also not exactly tan. She wore nothing but a tight, white piece of fabric around her modest breasts, and for the bottom, she donned a light brown pareo with a darker brown piece of cloth extending down the middle. The last thing that Aamon noticed was that the young girl was also barefoot, just like he himself was. From first glance, she appeared to be around 15 or 16, maybe around the same age as him, though he had no way of knowing.