Chapter 37: Refusal to Join the Fallen

Plunging through the air, Liam was inundated by a potent cocktail of fear and thrill, an oddly mesmerizing blend that sent his senses into overdrive. The icy wind cut against him like a swarm of unseen blades, gnawing at his exposed skin, tearing through his clothes, and piercing through the protective barrier of his eyelashes to sting his rapidly watering eyes. His hair was violently thrown about his face, thrashing wildly in the unruly gusts. The roar of the wind in his ears was deafening, a constant, tumultuous symphony that mirrored his inner turmoil.

Beneath him, the ground seemed to rush up to meet him, a deadly welcoming committee that offered no room for negotiation. The sheer scale of his descent was a cruel reminder of his reality - a stark contrast to the security of the plateau he had so recently left.

Amidst this chaos, a flickering, translucent timer floated in his field of vision, a constant countdown to his impending doom: '30... 29... 28...' The numbers pulsed ominously, each one dropping lower than the last, each one a chilling reminder of his plummeting fate. His heart pounded in sync with the countdown, each beat a visceral echo of the dwindling seconds, bringing him ever closer to the lethal embrace of the rocky earth below. His descent, it seemed, was choreographed to the relentless rhythm of this unmerciful timer.

Acceptance. It was an odd sensation, the dawning realization that he might not be able to circumvent his inevitable fall. Amid the whirlwind of terror and adrenaline, a calm washed over him, chilling and peaceful in its profound finality. The unrelenting countdown continued, each second punctuated by the harsh reality that he would not survive to see the end of the tutorial.

And then a new message blinked into existence: 'New Trait Gained: Acceptance of the Fallen.' In the corner of his vision, it hovered there, a subtle indicator of his surrender to his fate. The trait's name struck him as an oddly poignant coincidence, a little cosmic joke amidst the high-stakes drama of his situation.

Yet, despite this newfound sense of acceptance, a nagging sense of incompleteness gnawed at him. He couldn't truly accept his end, not here, not now. His mind was filled with visions of the adventures he wanted to have, the places he wished to explore, the exciting new world he yearned to experience. His heart was heavy with a deep sense of loss, a profound disappointment at the thought of having his journey cut short.

As he plunged downward, thoughts whirled chaotically within his mind. He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to leave this world, a realm filled with incredible possibilities and challenges yet to be met. The promise of exploring uncharted lands, of engaging in heart-pounding battles, of standing tall in the face of adversity, all lingered tantalizingly out of reach.

And then, amidst the whirlwind of his thoughts, he saw her. His sister. Their shared memories flooded him, their laughs, their tears, their shared moments of camaraderie and struggle. She was out there, somewhere in this vast new world, waiting for him. He had promised to find her, to stand by her side again. The idea of failing in that promise was more painful than any physical hurt he might endure.

An anger kindled within him, fanning the embers of his waning willpower. No, he would not accept this. He refused to join the fallen. He refused to lay down and let this world claim him without a fight.

His voice was but a speck in the vast symphony of nature’s fury, yet it held a power that stemmed from the core of his very being. “No!” he screamed, his words slicing through the onslaught of wind that fought to silence him. His shout was forceful and raw, the sound tearing from his throat, reverberating against the hard face of the cliff.

His face, weather-beaten and smeared with dirt and sweat, was the very picture of resolve. Despite the harsh wind that lashed against him, forcing his eyes to narrow, they sparkled with an unyielding defiance. Every muscle in his face was taut, a grim mask that echoed his uncompromising determination.

“I won't die here. I will conquer this world!” His voice rang out once again, louder and stronger, the words torn from deep within him, filled with the depth of his resolve. His breath hitched as he expelled the words, each one filled with the echoes of his raw emotion, his indomitable willpower, and his sheer stubbornness to survive.

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His words weren’t swallowed by the wind. Instead, they seemed to reverberate, riding on the gusts that swirled around him, a testament to his undying spirit. His shout was a challenge to the very world itself, a bold proclamation of his will to survive, to strive, and to conquer. His shout, echoing in the wilderness, was a promise and a vow; he would not be beaten. He would not be broken. He would rise and conquer this new world, for it was his challenge to accept and overcome.

With a surge of raw survival instinct, 'Crisis Instinct' kicked into overdrive. An innate sense of urgency coursed through his veins, propelling his actions with a ferocious intensity. His mind became a storm of rapid-fire calculations, assessing the speed of his descent, the proximity of the cliff, the strength of the winds, and the angle of his body.

With a sudden forceful twist of his body, he pivoted in the air, a mere silhouette against the backdrop of the boundless sky. The wind rushed against him, a force to be reckoned with, yet Liam fought against it, using its own power to guide his body towards the cliff face.

His muscles strained, his body contorting as he willed himself towards the rock face. Each maneuver was a calculated risk, a dance between life and death. The relentless wind tore at him, attempting to steer him away from his path, but he fought against it, his determination unwavering.

As he slammed into the cliff face, the pain was immediate and intense. Each impact sent shockwaves coursing through his body, the force of the collision ricocheting through his bones. His breath hitched in his chest as he rebounded off the surface, but each brutal contact slowed his rapid descent, bringing him a moment closer to survival.

His body was battered, bruised and aching, but each collision, each flash of pain was a small victory in his fight against the unforgiving fall. Each gasp of pain he forced out was a testament to his will to survive, to defy the odds stacked against him. The rocky cliff face, initially his doom, was becoming his lifeline.

Summoning the last vestiges of his strength, Liam stretched out his limbs as he neared the ground. The terrain below was an expanse of blinding white snow, a deceptive facade of softness over the hard earth beneath.

Every muscle in his body tensed in preparation, the reality of the imminent collision amplifying the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His heart pounded against his ribs, each beat a count down to the fateful moment.

And then, with an abruptness that robbed him of his breath, the impact came. His body slammed into the snow-covered ground, a violent encounter that sent a reverberating shock of agony through his system. The cold snow beneath him offered little cushion for his fall, its softness yielding instantly to the hard, unforgiving earth beneath.

The force of his landing sent a spray of snow flying into the air, momentarily shrouding him in a cloud of white. The world around him echoed with the sound of his impact, a sickening thud that underscored the gravity of his fall. His breath was forcibly expelled from his lungs, leaving him gasping and reeling in the numbing snow.

Liam lay sprawled on the cold ground, the whiteness of the snow contrasting starkly with his pale face. Every inch of his body screamed in pain. His limbs lay at awkward angles, clearly broken from the violent descent and hard landing. A jagged shard of bone protruded from his left leg, a grisly testament to the severity of his injuries. His breathing was labored, each inhale a gargantuan task, each exhale a ragged sigh of pain.

His clothes were torn and soaked in blood, some spots dark with dried blood, others still fresh and bright. The crimson liquid seeped into the pristine white of the snow, staining it a grim shade of red. Yet, despite his critical condition, consciousness clung to him, as stubborn as his resolve.

Just as he hit the ground, a flurry of snow engulfing him, he was on the brink of consciousness, the world around him blurred and indistinct. The tutorial counter appeared in his failing vision, counting down from 5.

4... He could taste blood in his mouth.

3... His body screamed in pain.

2... His vision was fading...

And then, just as the countdown was about to reach one, a new notification popped up:

{Trait transformed: Acceptance of the Fallen to Refusal to Join the Fallen}

The world around him went white, a blinding brightness consuming everything... Then, nothing.

Level: 13

Race: Human

Class: Survivalist

Profession: Explorer

Skills: Endurance, Weapon of Opportunity, Rapid Regeneration, Stealth, Crisis Instinct, Last Stand

Traits: Fearless, Detest the Heavens, Dance of the Wild, Refusal to Join the Fallen

Faith: N/A

Blessing: Nature