AN: Hey everyone, welcome to the fourth story of my seven day story upload.
A reminder to everyone, after these seven days, I will be posting all stockpiled chapters for Friends in the Multiverse, ID Create, and Blue Jay Café, once every other day until I run out. And then the leftover stories after that.
THIS story is based on the concept of a man reincarnating in Skyrim with memories of the world, although as someone who hasn't played the games in over a decade, and had to grow and survive in said world. (meaning he doesn't know every goddam cheat and location of items) (And NO, he is not the dragonborn). But still strived for power.
The story starts with the MC, decades after his rebirth, winding up flung through a portal into Danmachi.
Enjoy .
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Disclaimer: I own nothing except my left nut and my own original content.
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Chapter 1: The Entrance.
Rivira, floor 18 of the world famous Dungeon of Orario.
The dungeon beneath Babel tower at the center of the city of Orario.
Orario, the city at the center of the supermassive continent.
The dungeon was truly one of a kind.
A seal, a training ground, a living entity, and a true and solid path for a mortal to grasp divinity with nothing but their own efforts.
You could cheat all you want, use any method, use any device, make teams or go solo.
It didn't matter for those who cheat wouldn't make it far.
Only the strong made it down into the depths.
Only those who risked their very lives and grasped at divinity with both hands had a chance to proceed.
It didn't matter what they wished for.
Combat prowess, smithing prowess, enchanting, crafting, the list goes on and on.
And for most paths, a divine already exists. Hundreds if not thousands of divines exist in the world, mostly staying to their dimension separated from the mortal realm.
Most of these gods were not very strong, just the bottom of the mill stuff, but they were gods nevertheless.
They were pretty free to enjoy life in heaven.
After all, the strong ones didn't stick around.
They went down to the mortal world, sealing their Arcana, their true powers, for the sake of enjoying life from a mortals perspective.
To build families or organizations with mortals.
To raise adventurers like their own children and see them reach for glory or die trying.
It truly was a special dimension, a special place in the multiverse.
For so much interacted so freely.
Divine, various races, magic and non, technological advances, it all mixed to create the city of Orario.
And at its core was the dungeon.
The dungeon that had only been explored up until floor 59 over the course of 1,000 years.
Floor 18 was known as the first true 'safe' area of the dungeon. A place where adventurers could rest.
A place for outcasts and those running from their lives to build lives in the town that existed there.
Many groups came and went but don't let any of them fool you for they were still adventurers.
Grizzled veterans.
The ones who lived there didn't have much hope for the future but they knew what they were good at and stayed where they were.
The ones who passed through were strong enough to do as they pleased.
But the majority of them were not children new to the life.
So when the air suddenly stilled and an eerie feeling overcame the town, there was a pin drop silence as every adventurer instinctively tensed up.
Something was coming.
The moment came not a minute later when at the center of the town, space began to distort.
All eyes navigated to the spot as black and purple from the very void itself poured out and rapidly expanded to form a glowing orb that hummed with energy.
And from that orb, a figure shot out like a cannonball toward a trio of dark skinned women in light clothing and carrying massive weapons on their backs like it was nothing.
The leader of the trio only rose a brow and held out a hand to stop the flying figure and cushion the impact.
Only then did everyone get a good look at the figure.
A handsome tan skinned man standing over 6'3 in tattered remains of a robe of some kind and clenching the scabbard of a blade in a hand.
The man groaned and cracked open grey eyes that every veteran recognized as one of their own. The man scanned the crowd in seconds with experienced eyes before trailing to the woman currently holding him off the ground.
She smirked as his eye landed on her.
Her husky voice came out in a purr.
"Hey handsome~, eager to have some fun huh~?"
The man blinked and looked taken aback for a moment before a deep but well spoken, albeit dry, voice responded.
"Err…you all don't eat humanoid beings right?"
That got a blink in confusion from most of those who heard it but the woman recovered quickly and answered in a mix of amusement and interest.
"Can't speak for everyone here but I do enjoy a certain part of humanoid beings. If they are worthy anyway."
There were chuckles and smirks around the place at her words.
The man didn't show surprise this time but just nodded and muttered something only she could hear.
"Bastard actually sent me somewhere good this time."
The woman smiled wide at his words but she didn't get time to respond as the void like portal the man came from fluctuated wildly.
The man put a hand on her shoulder and the woman got the message and set him down.
He took one look at the portal and took a deep breath before shouting loud enough for everyone in town to hear.
"Warriors! If you wield a weapon step forward! Hold the line and beat back these creatures for they will show no mercy!
Mages! If you have the mana to spare get in formation! They are weak to fire! Ice will slow them! Electricity will burn their essence!"
No one moved for a moment before the man's brow twitched.
"I said move ya bastards! You want to die?! I sure as hell don't!"
The adventurers were quick to act after that.
Just the novelty of the situation throwing them off for seconds before they got into gear.
They defend their town up to four times a month from monster waves while those passing through actively go deeper inside.
This was just another Tuesday for them.
Or so they thought.
For what came from the portal were not the beasts and monsters they were used to but deformed demons and creatures from the pit.
Abominations looking as if they were stitched together from various creatures, giant spiders, flames in shapes of floating women, hooded beings with unseen faces.
Dozens came and a third of them all had tentacles.
Because of course they had tentacles.
Don't forget dozens of eyes on some as well.
"What the fuck?!"
"I think I'm going to be sick."
"Don't be a bunch of pansies boys! You want to live? Earn it!"
A man who seemed to be the leader of the town, a one eyed bald man full of scars shouted at the rest.
"Oi! Hands off the merchandise ya tentacle freak!"
"Wo! Wo! Down! That does not go there!"
"I can't even blame that dude for bringing this horde, if I was on the other side I would do the same shit."
"Aye, a man is never the same once a tentacle invades the ass."
"You speaking from experience old man?"
"Shut ya trap and swing that mace boy!"
Even with complaints and comments raised around, no one paused their movements.
The man who came through the portal smiled at the sight and raised his voice.
"If it helps, drinks on me tonight."
A resounding cheer was raised from the whole town and the man shook his head in amusement.
"All adventurers are the same, no matter the world."
The dark skinned woman by his side laughed and nodded.
"Not sure what you mean by the world but yeah, all of us are the same. Assholes, alcoholics, and general insanity are a package down here."
The man nodded.
"Seems I didn't even leave home."
The woman rose a brow but decided to shelve the questions for later.
"I would love~ to hear about that more tonight, but for now, any plans to step in on the mess you started?"
The man chuckled and reached into his…shadow? Before pulling out a potion vial and downing it.
"Yeah, I'll be fine in a moment, don't wait up for me."
He grabbed the remains of his robes and tore them off revealing a torn but still holding leather light armor tank top and black pants.
His arms were scarred in places and his right side had tribal like tattoos from his wrist to his neck. A scar went over the corner of his lips but it was an old wound that healed well enough.
The woman's eyes roamed his body shamelessly and she licked her lips.
"Mn, I think I'll try you later, names Aisha by the way."
The man sent her an amused look and raised his right hand that began to glow with a sandy yellow color.
"The pleasure is mine beautiful Aisha; names Hayle and I think an exchange of various things would be acceptable."
A ball of condensed light formed in his hands before vanishing and a dozen of the demons in his direct path were encased from the neck down in shells of ash.
Aisha's brow rose at the sight of the strange magic before his voice reached her once more.
"Go crazy love, I got you."
Aisha sent him a burning look and a savage smile grew on her face as she pulled the massive dual blades from her back.
"I'll hold you to that darling~."
She purred and brushed against him like a panther before cracking the ground beneath her feet and rushing into the fray with a demented laugh.
The two dark skinned girls by her side had been enjoying the byplay and giggled after she left.
"You do know we are amazoness's right~?"
"Fighting and Fucking are a staple for us, and your offering her both~."
"Aisha doesn't find many she can play with."
"You'll have to show your worth for that~."
""Otherwise she'll kill you~.""
They spoke in eerie unison and smirked at him before jumping into the fray themselves.
Hayle didn't even bat an eye at their attempt at intimidation.
Or flirting, he wasn't sure.
"Women, you have no idea who you are talking to. If Dibella didn't kill me, I doubt you could. Still, I should step up here shouldn't I?"
Unsheathing his blade, a black pattern katana in one hand, and his other glowing with eldritch energy, Hayle dove right into the crowd.
Spreading his name in a world he just entered without a care for the consequences.
For if someone lives a life like his, they will stop caring about such trivial things early on.
Truly, the life of Hayle A'tor was an interesting one.
Especially when he entered the SECOND world he once knew as only fiction.
*Line Break*
Reincarnation.
What a wonderful concept.
Every Otaku's dream right?
To be reborn in a world you are intimately familiar with along with some kind of cheat like power or system.
But therein exists a fine line.
What if, so to speak, you didn't have a cheat like power or system.
What if, you were not in fact intimately familiar with the world.
And what if, you were not the main character of the world.
What if, you were reborn in a world you had a moderate amount of knowledge of without anything else than your own two hands.
Well….that's where heaven turns to hell.
Not literally, but it sure as hell makes you recognize reality for what it is.
Cuz it sure as hell isn't a game.
Which is ironic since I was reborn in none other than the Elder Scrolls universe.
A crazy, insane, evil, and naturally beautiful world of wonder and Lovecraftian horrors.
How did I know this? Well, it was pretty obvious to me.
Reborn to a clan of Redguard sword dancers in the middle of a desert who were surprisingly well educated, I learned of my new worlds races and divine.
I didn't need more than that to figure things out.
I had been an avid Skyrim player in my previous life but….that was a decade before I died.
And that's along with the fact that my memories were incredibly fuzzy.
I didn't even know why I still had memories of a past life, but it hardly affected my new life.
My clan named me Hayle A'tor.
They were a clan of the Sword Dancer's Redguard's were famously known for.
The Redguard clans and schools were like schools of martial arts.
My clan focused on one handed weapons.
Knowing clearly how dangerous the world was and having a fervent desire for strength, I focused on what I knew Redguards had a natural talent for.
Swordsmanship and either Alteration or Destruction magic.
Turns out without some bullshit cheats or Dragonborn shittery, you can't just go around mastering skills in days and 'leveling up' so easily.
Let alone magic, just trying to use my existing natural talent with a sword took me until the age of 19 to actually reach a level in swordsmanship that my clan allowed me to leave on my own.
It took a year more for me to reach the expert level while traveling.
And only then did I feel confident enough to leave the desert I grew up in.
Being a swordsman was cool and all, after all, what guy doesn't dream of using a sword.
I sure as hell did and chose the route of using Katana's.
There were two rules for my clan to let a warrior leave on their own.
A satisfactory level of swordsmanship declared by the clan's head trainer and having the ability to craft a sword up to standards.
Considering I chose the katana as a child, I had been learning the technique for smithing nothing but katana's for years.
It was difficult enough to take me a dozen years before managing to forge a satisfactory blade for an adept level skill.
And that's only Katana's. Sure I had experience with forging that one type of sword but I was a shit talent at being a blacksmith.
Anything else I tried to make ended up novice grade at best.
And considering how long it took me to get such a good katana forging skill, I didn't bother learning another smithing craft.
I just took my sword and got the fuck out of that village.
I liked them all, they were kind and everything but things were always about the clan rather than the individual.
Not a terrible thing but it's exhausting. I had no intention of living my whole life like that.
Where did I go then? Well that's obvious.
The land of the free and home of the brave.
The great insane lands of Skyrim.
And no, I didn't go plundering it for all its treasure.
You think I had an encyclopedia mind of everything or a wiki fandom page for it?
Not to mention that while I was a deadly swordsman, I was nothing in the grand scheme of all the monsters out there.
No.
I went straight to Winterhold to get my ass in college.
In my clan I took the test to see if I had an affinity for any branch of magic and like many other Redguards, I had a strong affinity for Alteration.
So after 20 years, really more like 14 since I didn't really get to train till I was 6, of growing and learning to become an expert one handed swordsman, I put down my sword, figuratively since I still trained daily, and picked up some school books.
The college took me without a problem after I showcased some novice level Alteration spells and paid the tuition.
Yeah, unless you're the fabled dragonborn, all us plebians have to pay a tuition fee.
But man was it worth it.
The game didn't truly do the college justice.
Even with all the destruction, the place was a creation of beauty.
Winterhold wasn't much to look at but the college was like a national treasure and the view of the tundra was insane.
I was enrolled in the early courses under the head Alteration teacher, Tolfdir himself.
The school had around two hundred mages of the novice and apprentice levels split between the branches of magic.
At the Adept level you can get employed to help with teaching lower level class's or by the college to do various quests.
Many others just leave to do their own things or stick around to use the library and progress further on their own.
It's a mixed bag there.
But one thing for sure is that most of these people were insane or at least off kilter.
Want to throw around spells of mass destruction? Sure, head to the roof.
Want to summon skeletons or demons? Sure, head to the roof.
Want to test a ward? Sure, head to the roof.
Have unstable chemical potions, enchantments, or gems? Sure, to the roof you go.
The place was insane, but it was awesome all the same.
There was no prejudice for any of the main branches of magic, everyone was studying and experimenting to figure out something new or reach a higher level.
Only paths like necromancy were banned. Conjuration was a very different thing than Necromancy.
Anyway, I had my focus on Alteration.
And no, I couldn't learn spells from other branches.
I wasn't a broken game character, I had to actually spent years upon years with my head in books and casting spells thousands of times to figure shit out.
Remember the Perk skill tree for Alteration in the game?
Turns out they have some meaning in real life.
Rather than getting a perk that lowers the mana cost for a novice level spell, when you reach the point where your intimately familiar with the spell, the mana cost drops down dramatically to half or less.
Understanding how the spell works, your imagination, your intent, and how the mana flows all mixes together to lower mana costs, increase spell strength, lower casting time and increase spell duration length.
And as one progresses farther along the path of a mage, their mana pool grows larger and you begin to develop magic resistance.
The larger your mana pool the greater the effect until it caps out around 30%.
If someone cast a spell at you, you would naturally, just through your skin, block 30% of the spell.
Of course, the stronger the spell the more the power behind the other 70% so it's not something you want to rely on.
You can also begin to absorb mana from magical attacks up to 30% but those two effects don't stack.
These two effects are things any Alteration mage at the adept level and up develop.
Other branches of magic have their own bonuses that I'm sure relate to the games perk tree but I had nothing to compare so I didn't bother thinking on it.
It took me 12 years.
A dozen years spent studying from the massive library protected by the orc librarian like a dragon guarding it's nest. The guy was on my case for even having the nerve to fall asleep on a book.
A dozen years attending classes with Tolfdir teaching things in a very well-spoken manner. Really, the guy was like a non-manipulative and laid back Dumbledore. Harmless to anyone unless directly attacked and then you wouldn't know your ass from your nose. It's the harmless old men that have learned to mask the monsters lying underneath their skin.
A dozen years trying my very best not to die from the insanity inducing experiments other students get up to.
I mean, who the hell wants to genetically modify a skeever?! Why did they do that?! It kept multiplying!
And there was the time with a chemical explosion in a closed off stone room, which was a major flag already, creating a lust virus that made the whole college, except the experts and masters, enter a wild red eyes orgy for over twelve hours.
I didn't even know where my dick had been in those hours before I woke up interestingly enough in the bed of none other than Faralda, the high elf master destruction mage and teacher.
I was wide eyed and shivering a bit to see her surprisingly extremely alluring nude body on display as she smiled at me and said it was a fun night before kicking me out of her room.
She wasn't affected even a bit by the chemical.
I didn't even care that I was nude on my way back, all I knew was that my balls were practically shriveled for days as they did their very best to revive themselves and refill my life essence.
Then there was that other time a rampaging slime monster got lose that declared war on all forms of cheese. Leading a certain Deadric prince into a frenzy the likes of which few have seen.
Their battle was….legendary.
Another where someone accidentally broke a conjuration portal and let loose a stampede of demonic chickens. Which may or may not have been related to the previous incident.
The time when someone accidentally got the wording wrong in a contract with a Dremora and unleashed a crowd of Succubi and Incubi into the school.
It took a lot of willpower to banish those wonderful demons.
I and many other long standing members sent looks of pity to the pair of Incubus that were crawling out of Faralda's room with very confused faces.
It's safe to say, anything can happen at the College of Winterhold.
Really keeps a guy on his toes you know?
It took me a dozen years of all this stuff before I could consider myself a true expert on Alteration.
I was still a ways off for master on swordsmanship or Alteration but Expert was a true cornerstone for many in the world at large.
Considering I had the talent, opportunity, willpower, and of course that I didn't die because that's a very normal thing to happen in Skyrim, I had quite a fast growth compared to others.
And it wasn't just the game magic spells that applied to Alteration. There were plenty of other spells involved as well.
Unfortunately, it was around that time that canon finally came around.
How did I know that? Well, we got rumors of a dragon attacking Helgen, more dragons popping up, dragons roaring in the skies, a dragon landing in Winterhold and stealing a cow, or a fat person, and a dragonborn awakening.
So yeah, easy to figure out.
Months after the rumors came out, the dragonborn himself showed up to the college.
A big Nord guy full of muscle.
I wasn't small by any means, but as a Redguard I had a naturally incredibly toned and fit body. Something like a swimmer but a few sizes bigger.
But Nord's were practically giants to the human races.
Some of those fuckers grew to easily over seven feet tall.
The dragonborn was thankfully only 6'7.
A guy named Jorn.
I watched from afar as the guy got settled in and studied for conjuration magic and destruction magic.
Of course the dragonborn was bullshit enough to study two paths at once.
I wanted nothing to do with him. I didn't want a part of his fate, the attention of the divines, or getting mixed up in all his insanity.
I had enough insanity as it was!
But no!
Fate had to fuck with the guy who didn't get any cheats!
Being a senior Expert in my field of magic, Tolfdir was more than happy to assign me to help Jorn with various quests outside the college.
Had the nerve to tell me it would be good for me to get out.
Anger aside, he had a point. I was kind of holing myself up inside the college for a few years, but in my defense, the world was insane.
He just gave me a look and I left while throwing my hands up. Everyone was insane damn it.
Either way, I got saddled with the fucking dragonborn and ended up actually befriending the guy. His charisma stat was a fucking cheat.
Lucky for him since it was I who had to pull HIM out of shit left and right.
Like wtf is it with him?
Set up camp, a troll attacks.
Take a piss, a wolf attacks.
Try to wash yourself, a giant spider attacks.
The guy had the worst damn luck I had ever seen.
And the worst part was I actually felt bad for the fucker and stuck around a bit when he asked me for help.
Ended up traveling Skyrim with him, meeting various people, doing various things that were probably side quests in the game, and actually had a hell of an experience.
Fighting monsters, solving cases, dungeon diving, crazy undead, sex craved divines, sex craved Deadric princes, couriers from hell who always seem to find you, and of course, dragons.
And don't forget the civil war, that was a thing to.
Around three years we spent traveling the lands and studying back at the college before the guy reached expert level in two paths.
He did in three years what took me twelve to do for just one path.
And he wasn't even that smart! It was just flat out luck and 'uhhh, I wanted it so it happened.'
Fuck you cheats!
We didn't bother dealing with the civil war and Alduin was still an issue after three years but really, this wasn't a game, things were not resolved in months.
We did deal with Harkon and the vampire crap. That took a year and Serena hooked up with Jorn.
That was fine though, I was enjoying the bachelor life as a good looking and powerful guy. The one good thing about this world was that for every evil and gross thing, there was a beautiful thing to match it. And the women were just stellar creatures of beauty.
I explored most of the races the world had to offer and enjoyed myself.
I did pick up a certain stalker who didn't understand that she couldn't 'claim' me so to speak but I was weak to her beauty so it's not like I could resist if I woke up tied to a bed with her in it.
My life was weird.
Anyway.
The point of this story isn't to tell you about what happens in Skyrim.
No, the point is that one day, my little friend the dragonborn, a guy who thinks I'm his brother because fuck you that's why, decided he wanted to do some fun little magic experiments.
What did the college say?
Go to the roof.
Because what else would they fucking say!
I was trying to take it easy that day, just relax and read an enjoyable book in my own home that I secured in a safe location but Jorn dragged me over to the roof of the college to experiment with his conjuration spells.
Long story short, while trying out the summon Dremora lord spell, Jorn got fucking distracted thanks to a convenient gale that blew up a female apprentice's robe enough to show off a wonderful ass.
I really can't blame Jorn for getting distracted since I was too, but I won't admit that because then I would have to be less angry at him for what he did.
He not only overcharged the spell but he completely aimed in the wrong direction while his mind was elsewhere thinking about that ass and the spell hit me right in the fucking face.
Like RIGHT – IN – THE – FACE.
"I WILL STAB YOU IN YOUR SLEEP JORN!"
That was all I could get out before being whisked away into a portal to oblivion.
Except the portal wasn't meant to bring anyone aside from the Dremora back.
It lacked a destination to send me and just shat me out into the void.
Ever floated in inky darkness without being able to breath or move? BECAUSE IT'S NOT FUCKING FUN.
I was burning through mana faster than a Christian rabbit could multiply to stay alive and managed to just barely alter my course to crash into an upcoming tear in dimensions.
And then I was falling and flying out of a crack as if kicked by a giant who I nut tapped only to be stopped by a slender yet strong tan hand connected to a bombshell body and predatory purple eyes.
'Yeah, not sure whether to stab or hug that bastard. I'll decide later.'
Chapter end.