Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

The moment the first bite was taken, the atmosphere shifted.

The hesitant, cautious tension that had always lingered in this bastion dissolved in an instant—replaced by something raw, something profound.

A bastioneer sat frozen, his hands trembling as he stared down at the simple stew in his bowl, steam curling softly into the cool night air. His lips parted, but no words came, only the faintest shudder of disbelief.

And then—tears.

Silent at first, just a single streak down his dirt-stained cheek. But as more of them dug in, spoonfuls of thick, richly flavored broth warming their bodies, bites of perfectly roasted meat melting in their mouths. The emotional dam broke.

Some wept openly, voices cracking as they muttered prayers of gratitude. Others laughed, shaking their heads as they marveled at the impossible contrast—how could something so simple taste like this?

I let the moment sink in, leaning back with a satisfied hum as I watched them devour the feast like starved beasts.

"This is… this is unreal…" one bastioneer mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. "We've… we've been eating rations and dried meat for weeks. But this… this is—"

"Heavenly!" Another cut in, clutching his plate like it was the last meal he'd ever see.

"Did we die?" someone joked between mouthfuls. "Is this what paradise is like?"

I smirked. A bit dramatic, but not unwarranted.

Izzar, however, sat completely still beside me.

Her eyes were locked onto her plate, fingers curled loosely around a piece of glazed boar meat. But she hadn't taken a bite.

I watched as she exhaled sharply, finally bringing the food to her lips. The moment it touched her tongue, her pupils dilated slightly.

Then, in an almost unnatural movement, she tore into the rest of it with unrestrained hunger.

The once-composed leader of this bastion, now utterly at the mercy of a good meal.

I chuckled. "So?"

She didn't answer immediately, chewing slowly, savoring each bite like she was afraid it would disappear if she didn't fully experience it.

Then, she swallowed.

And stared at me.

"…Are you some kind of renowned chef from a foreign continent?"

I raised an eyebrow at the genuine awe in her voice.

Now, that was amusing.

Smirking, I leaned slightly closer, resting my chin against my hand. "Let's just say…" I paused for effect. "Even demigods and fae enjoy my cooking."

Her mouth fell slightly open.

"Wait—what?" someone whispered.

Izzar blinked rapidly, her rational mind crumbling under the weight of that statement.

I just smiled, tilting my head.

Not a lie. Not in the slightest.

She exhaled slowly, leaning back with a dazed look. "That… actually makes sense."

I wasn't expecting her to accept that so easily.

She rubbed her temples, as if trying to piece something together. "I mean, it's obvious you're not just some ordinary wanderer. You have access to a Theotech device," she gestured toward my Mini MSU, "which means you must be someone important."

I hummed in amusement. Letting her make her own assumptions worked out perfectly.

One of the bastioneers suddenly grinned, raising his voice. "Well, if that's the case, maybe she should stay here! We've got a great leader already!"

"This bastion is as safe as cottontail huddling in the snow without care," said the other bastioneer. "There isn't much proper facility that reminds those of a citadel, but it is quite cozy on the barrack."

"Shut it, Bren!" Izzar scolded, flinging a small scrap of bread at him. "How dare you offer such a prominent figure of luxury to stay in this shabby, downtrodden outpost!"

Well, that one was quite the exaggeration.

This bastion might not be the best, but it was better than the first bastion I made to face the harrowing and downright traumatizing first night of Carcosa.

Bren dodged the flinged bread, still laughing. "I'm just saying! Ain't every day we get a visitor like this!"

Izzar let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing her forehead before turning back to me. "Apologies. My bastioneers aren't always the most well-mannered."

I waved it off. "No offense taken."

Still, the comment made me curious.

I tapped my fingers lightly against the table. "You've kept your casualties low against the Ordeal. That's not easy. How did this bastion come to be?"

At my question, Izzar fell silent for a moment.

She reached for her drink, swirling the liquid inside before taking a slow sip. Then, with a solemn smile, she spoke.

"This place… used to be an important travel point between two citadels."

I nodded, already aware of where this was going.

But I let her continue.

"One day, the continent shifted."

There it was.

The land rearrangement and calibration event. A world-scale phenomenon that happen once in a few centuries.

They might have lost their contact with the civilization they were familiar with, and they were forced to adapt to an entirely new environment and new geography that may or may not do well in their favor.

"For days, the terrain reshaped itself. And when it finally settled…" She let out a bitter chuckle. "The two citadels that made this place important? They weren't neighbors anymore."

"It is quite the shocker, and we also got a psychic mail that this event might happen all over the world." A bastioneer spoke up. "We don't even know if those citadels still exist anymore, considering that I saw a half piece of a neighbouring land, skitting down our peripheral as the landmass slides to who knows where."

Izzar nodded. "We tried using foresight casting, but our remaining Ohrtenders—just me and one other—couldn't cast wide enough to confirm anything useful. Of course, now we know that we can establish a proper psychic contact without any disruption, we somehow got the gist of what was going on."

I rested my chin on my hand, feigning thoughtfulness. "So, what now?"

Izzar exhaled, then leaned forward slightly. "We're planning to head northeast. Toward Quruize Citadel."

Now, that was interesting.

Because that just so happened to be my Landship's original destination before the Theotech Expedition sidetracked us beyond recognition.

I smiled faintly. "I'm headed there, too."

Izzar's expression brightened. "Really?"

I nodded.

She let out a satisfied hum. "Then that means we'll meet again someday."

Before I could respond, a voice called from the bastion's entrance.

Visitors of a familiar hue and shape, but those familiarity only applies to me, not anyone in this bastion.

I turned my head slightly—just in time to see the bull-horned man from earlier, his mouth still full, grumbling as he approached the gate.

"What's your deal, lass?" he mumbled around a mouthful of meat.

Standing just beyond the entrance were three figures—small, childlike, their blue eyes glowing faintly under the sunshine of Carcosa's day time.

Three Duolos who I had already requested amidst my kitchen action.

Adorned in Theotech equipment, they scanned the surroundings with casual curiosity before one of them spotted me.

One of them lifted her hand in greeting, her voice light and cheerful. "Narcissus!"

Looks like they could perform some improvised acting. I'm thankful that they didn't just refer to me as mother like last time.

I immediately shifted my expression—as if relief had just washed over me.

"You finally found me," I murmured, standing up.

Izzar turned toward me, her expression softening.

"I suppose this means you'll be leaving soon."

I nodded.

She exhaled. "I'm grateful you stopped by. And… I'll repay this favor one day." Continue reading stories on My Virtual Library Empire

I smiled. "You already have."

Then, without hesitation, I turned toward the Duolos. "One of you—stay here. Become part of this bastion and do your best to protect those that are related to it."

The hive mind instantly understood my intent.

One of them stepped forward, eyes alight with eagerness. "Understood!"

Izzar looked overwhelmed. "I—what?"

"They are the Duolos." I gestured toward the Duolos. "They're a rare race from a different continent, the same one where I came from."

"Uhm, I don't want to sound ungrateful but," Izzar smiled as her gaze wandered somewhere. "I don't think that this bastion can handle a youngster below an appropriate age for combat and labor, considering the operation size of this bastion…"

"Don't worry. Just like a Kilnalan, a Duolos are also older than they look." I snickered in amusement. "They age at a slowed rate, even, while also requiring little sustenance, and can metabolize both organic and inorganic matter with ease.

"Their bodies regenerate at an accelerated pace, making injuries inconsequential." I said I as I patted the chosen Duolos on the head. "Not to mention, they are a powerful Ohrtender and a strong, versatile fighter."

The chosen Duolos beamed, nodding eagerly. "Mhm! I'm really tough!"

Izzar remained silent for a long moment, her gaze flickering between me and the childlike figure before her. Uncertainty lingered in her expression, warring against the undeniable usefulness of such an ally.

Then, with a slow exhale, she finally relented.

"…Alright. I'll make sure they're cared for." Izzar smiled. "I'll make sure to repay all of this."

Unfortunately, Izzar, the opposite will happen. You and your people are the one that will be cared for.

A single Duolos vessel is stronger than anyone in this bastion, and it should also be enough to help them survive against a terrifying encounter within the time of the Ordeal.

I smiled, a touch of satisfaction curling at the edges of my lips. "I hope the best for all of you."