My name is Gerekh, and I’m the real, true reincarnator into another world. Cool, isn’t it? Actually, not so much. In stories like this, the hero usually finds a wise teacher, uncovers all the secrets of the universe, learns magic, and surrounds himself with wonderful elven women. But that’s not my case...
In the new world, I could hardly last five minutes. It was enough time to land in the claws of a kirass—a local variety of tigers—and be torn to pieces. Is that really all there is to the story? Apparently not, because very soon it turned out that I’m a Phoenix. After each death, I burn up and rise again from the ashes. I’ve already lost count of how many times I’ve died in this world. Wild animals tore me apart, slavers beat me with whips, local aristocrats killed me—and once, even peasants hanged me over a couple of fruits. That’s the kind of hero I am.
But since the old lady Death doesn’t plan to take me into her arms, that means this world will still have use for me.