Chapter Text
The sudden start of the subway had Kim Dokja crashing into the passengers behind him, making him to be more squished in the already too thick subway car. Dokja didn’t mind the crowd as its occasional in his usual route and there was no choice but to get used to it, but was a bit miffed about not being able to read his Not Favourite web novel.
The passengers started moving into places and Kim Dokja moved into a small corner that wasn’t too bothersome and immediately took out his phone to continue reading where he left off.
The novel was called “Demonic Sage Makes Prophecies”, a dark historic fantasy novel with the right amount of buzzwords to be noticed by the algorithm and the readers. It followed the story of saintess Anna Croft and her companions as they fight against the epidemic of demons spawning in the kingdom of Kaizenix.
The characters were good enough and had believable motives but Kim Dokja was going to drop it soon until one arc caught his eye. While skipping through a few chapters to find something interesting, he reached the story about the forgotten prince Yoo Joonghyuk. A tragic character who deserved happiness rather than being used to further the plot and forgotten in the finale.
Yoo Joonghyuk was cursed to forever stay in an isolated castle and to be forgotten by everyone. Kim Dokja doesn’t know why he’s attracted to this particular character. The author makes a point to tell how rude and villainous Yoo Joonghyuk is and that his anger and resentment shoves everyone away.
But does a villainous older brother protect his sister with what little power he has from an arranged marriage? Or put up with three strangers who insist on dragging his younger sister back? Kim Dokja could understand his cold behavior, so no one else would also suffer his curse. And if anything, it was Anna Croft’s fault. She found the lack of servants assigned to her and Yoo Joonghyuk's general behaviour insulting but what servants would a prince imprisoned since birth have? Yoo Joonghyuk’s cold,” serve yourselves, you are not children.” did not help resolve this misunderstanding. The proud saintess must’ve thought she was being insulted.
Maybe having been living alone for most of his life, Kim Dokja craved companionship. And what better way to socialize than a cursed castle that would trap anyone if they stayed too long.
Scrolling through his phone, Kim Dokja decided to reread his favourite arc again. He enjoyed reading about the prince and all the other trapped souls in the castle. He wished he knew how to write stories properly so he could give them all a well-deserved happy ending.
SCREEEEEEEECHHH
The subway came to a sudden halt throwing Dokja forward.
And everything went to black.
Kim Dokja couldn’t see. He was pushed and shoved. So much he wondered when the subway had this much space.
Then suddenly warm light fell on his face. Warm sunlight.
On Kim Dokja. Who was on the subway.
The subway. That’s underground.
Kim Dokja opened his eyes and found himself in a medieval townsquare buzzing with life as people in old fashioned attire went about with their day-to-day life. Shopkeepers screaming out prices. Carts being pushed with products. Carriages running here and there. People running about and shoving. Nobility and horse shit and pitchforks. The whole package.
Kim Dokja was more than disoriented. Is this a dream? His stop should be soon, will he wake up then? It looked too real to be conjured up in a dream. There was not enough air in his lungs no matter how much he breathed in. Kim Dokja was spiraling, inviting curious passersby to eye him with displeasure.
He took in the details of the whole square. It looked desolate, broken and abandoned buildings were more frequent than the shops that looked almost out of business. The people were skinny and tired looking women and the senile. Most wore leather tunics tanned brown or black, dull colours as affordable to peasants. Their clothes were still a bit too thin for the coming winter. And it made Dokja acutely aware of his own lack of better attire. A business suit isn’t ideal for the cold weather and away from the combined heat of a crowd of people huddling together, Kim Dokja was starting to feel the biting cold.
Thankfully, it seemed he could understand and even read the new language due to some magical plot armor provided by the isekai gods. ‘Butcher’s Shoppe’ ‘Barber’ ‘Recruitment to the War. Eternal Glory to the Empire.’ ‘Fresh Buns’.
Most of the crowd is gathered in front of the war recruitment. A small platform made of wooden planks elevate a stout middle-aged man in a leather tunic and a fur muffler too small. A line was forming in front of the man as he shouts in to the crowd. Something about 3 gold for every week spent in the campaign.
“Glory to those who join valiantly. The generous lord has promised us hearty supplies! This coming harvest, we will not be plagued no more by these hell spawn.”
A scribe sat idle next to him holding a feathered ink pen. The crowd looked dissatisfied. Mostly women and the old.
“These monsters will ravish us by summer. The land has fallen from god’s grace, soon it’ll follow infested with beasts like the other territories.” “What else can we do, we cannot afford to move from here, lord show us mercy.” “Last year they came for my husband and this year they come for my son.” “My child is not yet of proper age, this village has no means to satisfy the quota of men called for.”
“It’s the lord’s orders to send men for the army. We must fulfil our duties. No one is exempt from this season’s conscription,” The man replied, eyes landing right on Kim Dokja.
Kim Dokja was quietly observing the crowd. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be noticed. Maybe it was inevitable, him in his strange attire and being so out of place.
The military man was giving pointed looks at him now. Dokja did not want to spend any more of his life in military service, once was enough thank you very much. But it seems any attempt to withdraw only drew further attention because he was being addressed directly now.
“You, young man over there, do you not wish to aid? Or did you think you could squirm yourself out of your duties?”
“I-“
“The rest have all signed up, now don’t be a coward no more. Think of those who have gone before for you to stand here now,”
And all of a sudden, a thousand eyes land on him.
“Wait- I’m not even from around here. I’m-“ not from around here.
These folks need anyone to fill ranks, so their own family members won’t be taken or to fill the quota of cannon fodder needed that might or might not survive.
The crowd parted like the red sea and Kim Dokja was led to the platform. The officer sneering down on him, shoved papers to the scribe who got ready to write. That was when Dokja noticed the crest decorating all these paperwork. He’d seen it countless times on the few fanarts he could find that involved his favourite prince. The crest of an insignificant lord who served the empress, who also lorded over the land where Yoo Joonghyuk’s castle lies.
And if the fanarts are right… His favourite is very near. Kim Dokja couldn’t believe he has been isekaid into the world of “Demonic Sage Makes Prophecies” of all places.
Looking around, Dokja recognizes exactly where he is. What are the chances he would be placed in the same place Anna Croft would arrive right before finding the forgotten castle. But this territory isn’t riddled with monsters. In fact, it looks as lively as a dying town could look like. In the novel, the territory was overtaken by monsters that suddenly appeared. If this is correct then, Kim Dokja is in the past, way before Anna Croft would reach this place.
“Your name and age.”
Oh yeah, he was in the middle of getting drafted for the second time in his life.
“My name”
This was a terrible idea. It might not even work.
“Is Yoo Joonghyuk.”