The constant flux of information provided by [Awareness] kept me awake, locked in a relentless battle against fatigue. Sleep had become an elusive dream as I wandered the valley gathering ingredients, illuminated only by a small mana flame. Shadows danced around me, mockingly gesturing at me as I dragged my feet across the forest bed. Hour after hour I harvested ingredients until the distant promise of dawn showed its first silvery gazes over the horizon.

The gray clouds far in the east reminded me of Elincia’s hair. It was beautiful.

With slow movements, I scoured the area for Fiery Vine Pods and Moon Laurel.

[Awareness] had assumed the role of my merciless tormentor hours ago when the first signs of drowsiness clouded my mind. Trivial tidbits of old TV shows, snippets of long-forgotten books, and embarrassing memories that I believe long forgotten, [Awareness] used every trick on the manual to keep me away from falling asleep.

I called this new function of [Awareness] the ‘torture mode’ because that was precisely how it felt.

Each time the tendrils of sleep crept in, [Awareness] assailed me with a fresh barrage of useless information. It felt like icy water being splashed directly against my brain. Every time my sight blurred, [Awareness] dragged me back into a fragile state of alertness.

Minutes stretched to hours, and hours to eternity. The torment of perpetual wakefulness was truly a cruel rendition of hell.

Finally, as the first hints of dawn appeared over the horizon, I placed the last sample of Elkadia Root into my harvesting bag. My list of missing ingredients dwindled to only two. The devilishly elusive Moon Laurel and Fiery Vine Pods.

I massaged my eyes and continued roaming through the forest.

Among the inconsequential excerpts of information, [Awareness] had managed to align a series of facts that almost formed a greater picture. Elincia had said none of my powers made sense. [Mana Manipulation] was supposed to be used as a small source of light and as a writing tool, not as a sword, a shield, or illusions. Offense, defense, and crowd control. It was too perfect to be accidental.

I shook my head, trying to discard that train of thought. However, it was too late, the metaphorical tinfoil hat was already sunk past my ears: There were too many coincidences, and the accumulated fatigue wasn’t helping my rational brain to avoid the rabbit hole either.

I placed my harvesting bag against a felled tree and drank from my water skin. All night, I had been avoiding thinking about Dassyra’s words. Mr. Byrne had been into this world, which wasn’t surprising considering there was a portal hidden inside his cabin’s basement. However, that raised a completely different set of questions. Was Byrne the creator of the portal or did he just stumble upon it?

In the background of my consciousness a completely different alarm rang. Elincia hates liars. You are a liar. Elincia is going to hate you. The sentences repeated one after another in an infinite succession no matter how hard I tried to suppress them. They thrummed deep in my chest, causing pangs and stabs that would make me worry for my health if I didn’t know better.

I summoned my character sheet for the first time in weeks.

Name: Robert Clarke, Human.

Class: Scholar Lv.13

Titles: Lonely Boy, Stone in Love, Hot for Teacher, Confidant, Classroom Fiend, Favorite Teacher (96), Master Tutor, Silver Scholar, Delinquent Reformer (5), Stalwart Mentor (7), Role Model, Expert Mathematician, Expert Physicist, Adept Historian, Adept Linguist, Journeyman Biologist, Novice Chemist, Novice Orator.

Passive: Lv.5 Swordsmanship, Mana Manipulation, Awareness, Master of Languages.

Skills: Identify, Stun Gaze, Intimidate, Minor Illusion.

Reluctantly, I tapped over my first title.

Lonely Boy: A title for those who had led a lonely life and remained single past the usual marriage age. [Identify] Title bestowed upon those who contribute to population aging. A couple years more and you would’ve statistically avoided your first divorce. Stay strong, trooper.

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Then the second.

Stone in Love. [Identify] In the heat with a blue jean girl, burnin’ love comes once in a lifetime.

And finally the third one.

Hot for teacher. [Identify] Do you feel it? The butterflies fluttering in your stomach? The tingle in your chest when you look into her eyes?

The System had knowledge from my world and, arguably, a rudimentary personality.

Despite I outright denying the existence of love at first sight, the System had stubbornly pushed the tale of my sudden infatuation for Elincia. Was the System toying with me? Was it feeding me useful skills as I needed them? There were just too many coincidences to rule out the possibility of the System being man-made, and yet, there was little proof to assert it.

The idea of the System being a creation of Mr. Byrne crossed my mind, but I was too tired to pay it attention. Instead, my eyes slowly closed and not even [Awareness]’s torture mode was able to keep me awake.

I woke up with the sun right over my head, its golden rays streamed through the dense canopy casting green shadows all around me. Despite being almost winter in the outer world, the wind carried the scent of spring. There was something magical about the valley that escaped my perception of mana.

I jolted up and looked around in a panic. How long was I out? two, three hours? My heart raced as I scanned the surroundings and a wave of relief washed over me as I found the harvesting bag by my side with the contents undisturbed. I scolded myself. Elincia must've grown worried over my disappearance, so I jumped on my feet and resumed my march back to our camp.

[Awareness] helped me navigate through the forest. Despite the fact I had been stumbling across the valley in complete darkness, the skill managed to bring me back to the small creek without trouble. The camp should be about a kilometer to the north from my current position.

I resumed the hike, hoping Elincia wasn’t out there looking for me. As I walked upstream, I let [Awareness] and [Identify] scan the surroundings for any potential threat or hidden resources. The brief nap had done wonders for my mental clarity, even if my body still felt like an old rotting puppet with rusty hinges.

[Awareness]: Monster nearby.

A tingle in my brain let me know that there was something ahead and slightly to the left where the tree line marked the edge of the riverbank. I carefully climbed the sandbank, my movements deliberately slow to avoid making any noise, and crouched behind the dense bushes.

Through the foliage I detected a shadowy quadruped figure moving among the ferns. My curiosity battled with caution as I debated whether to use [Identify] on the creature. I hesitated for a moment, my intuition told me it was a Black Wolf. However, intelligent creatures like the Wendigo and other people could detect when they were being magically observed.

Panic crept up my spine. Falling asleep had been a mistake. The sound of my heart pounding inside my chest covered the trickle of water in the middle of the riverbed. Deep down I knew I had enough of the Farlands for a lifetime.

My eyes remained fixed on the creature.

Should I risk using [Identify] to confirm its identity? Or was it wiser to trust my instincts and remain hidden? As I waited, the wind direction shifted, carrying a faint scent of rot to my nose. Not the gentle smell of decaying vegetable matter but the revolting stench of rotten flesh. [Awareness] went into overdrive and I felt as if my senses had suddenly improved. The Black Wolf, if that’s what it was, seemed to be dragging something across the forest bed. Something big.

The alarms on my brain went off, damned be stealth.

I identified the creature.

Carcass of a White Deer. [Identify] A recently deceased White Deer. Fresh.

If the White Deer was recently dead, where did the smell of rot come from?

My question was instantly answered as the Black Wolf jumped down the sandbank into the riverbed. The creature’s matted fur was riddled with hairless patches that revealed the grotesque sight of rotten skin and exposed bone. The smell of rot was overwhelming, and [Awareness] informed me that that was the smell of advanced stages of decomposition.

The source of the smell was evident.

Undead Black Wolf Lv. 21. [Identify] ERROR.

Against all odds, the Black Wolf swiveled its head towards me. A chill ran down my spine as the Wolf’s dead eyes locked onto mine. Despite the decayed appearance, an eerie malice emanated from behind its clouded eyes. The Black Wolf briefly glanced at me, then, suddenly, something or someone intruded into my brain.

Instinctively, I raised my head, expecting to see a Wraith or a Beholder hovering over my head, yet the sky was flawlessly clear. Without summoning it, my character sheet appeared in front of me. My eyes fell on the Undead Black Wolf. Through its eyes, something sinister was observing me, something sentient, with a great hunger that stretched beyond the physical realm.

The entity touched my character sheet, and in a sudden flash, I could see it. Two ice-cold eyes floating in the emptiness of the void they peered at me from. The experience didn’t stop there. I could also hear it. I could sense it commanding the Undead Wolf’s body and mind.

My blood froze inside my veins as the Wolf received its next directive.

Bring him. Alive.