The black rabbit twitched its nose, and then, beside it, the system display appeared: `Shadow Claw, Level 8`.
Tyler's breath hitched. Level 8? He'd seen a rabbit like this before, a level 6, but this... this was different. "Eight?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. A cold dread washed over him. This was significantly stronger. "Damn," he muttered, taking an involuntary step back, his hand instinctively tightening on the hilt of his rusty sword. This felt… terrifying.
Before he could react, the Shadow Claw launched itself. It moved with terrifying speed, a blur of black fur and sharp claws. He tried to block with his sword, but he was too slow. The creature's claws connected with his stomach, a searing pain exploding through him. The impact sent him sprawling backwards, tumbling onto the forest floor. He gasped, the air knocked from his lungs. "Son of a—" he groaned, the pain sharp and immediate.
The system display reappeared: `Shadow Claw used skill: Shadow Strike.` He glanced down at his status. His HP: 13/33. One point of damage. He was already hurt, badly hurt, from the previous fight, and this attack, while not as devastating as he feared, was still a significant blow. "Okay," he gritted out, pushing himself up, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Think, Tyler, think…" This wasn't a fight he could win with brute force alone. He needed a plan, and he needed it fast.
The searing pain from the Shadow Claw's attack lingered, but Tyler realized something crucial: the damage was minimal, only one measly point. His increased defense, thanks to that surprisingly effective "regular clothing," had significantly mitigated the blow. He pushed himself to his feet, his hand instinctively going to his stomach. He held out his rusty sword, scanning his surroundings, but the Shadow Claw was gone.
Then, the system display appeared again, its message stark and chilling: `Shadow Claw used Shadow Walk.` A cold wave of apprehension washed over him. He was facing an opponent capable of both incredible speed and stealth. This was going to be far more difficult than he initially thought.
Fear, cold and clammy, gripped Tyler. This was the first creature he'd encountered that the system had explicitly identified as using skills – two skills, at that. Shadow Strike and Shadow Walk. "Two skills?" he whispered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of his heart. The implications sent a shiver down his spine. This wasn't just a strong monster; it was a more "skilled" opponent. He looked around frantically, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow, trying to locate the unseen predator. "Where is it?" he muttered, his breath catching in his throat.
The sound of rustling bushes, faint at first, grew steadily louder, closer. He could hear the almost imperceptible brushing of leaves against fur, the subtle sounds of something moving through the undergrowth. His heart hammered against his ribs. He took a hesitant step back, then another, his eyes wide with apprehension. "Great," he groaned, his voice laced with self-deprecation. "Just what I needed. I was planning on fighting slimes, easy XP to level up, craft better tools... But this? This is ridiculous."
The thought of running crossed his mind. "Should I run? Could I even outrun it?" he thought, his mind racing. But a stubborn streak of defiance flared within him. "No," he muttered, clenching his jaw. "I'm not running. Not this time, I might just end up getting attacked while running again."
A high-pitched shriek pierced the air from behind him. Before he could react, another blow slammed into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground. This hit was far worse than the first; his already injured back screamed in protest. He groaned, the pain intense and debilitating. He pushed himself up, clutching his back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Damn it!" he gritted out, his voice strained. The Shadow Claw was fast, incredibly fast, and he couldn't see it.
Then, he heard two shrieks simultaneously, both close and menacing. Terror seized him. Two attacks, launched in perfect coordination. Before he could react, one Shadow Claw struck, its claws tearing into the back of his knee, bringing him crashing to the ground. As he fell, another Shadow Claw, already upon him, slashed across his eye. A searing, blinding pain erupted, and darkness consumed his vision in that eye. He cried out, a raw, desperate sound, as he instinctively let go of his sword, the rusty blade clattering to the ground. He scrambled to retrieve it with one hand, clutching his injured eye with the other. He was blind in one eye, and the pain was excruciating.
The pain in his eye was excruciating, a searing agony that eclipsed even the pain in his knee. "God, that hurts," he thought, his mind reeling. The memory of a past eye infection, caused by Mike's cat – the same Mike who'd had to send his feline roommate to his parents because he couldn't handle the cat – flashed through his mind. Ironically, that infection had been far less painful than this.
He momentarily loosened his grip on his injured eye, and a warm trickle of blood ran down his cheek, a crimson tear tracing a path through the dirt. He gritted his teeth, his other hand finding the hilt of his sword. He brought the blade up with both hands, bracing himself. Another shriek pierced the air, and he swung, the rusty blade connecting with something solid with a dull thwack.
A thud echoed behind him. He'd hit it. With a roar born of adrenaline and pain, Tyler turned and lunged forward, bringing his rusty sword down on the Shadow Claw's head. He heard a sickening crack—the sound of skull fracturing—followed by a small, pained shriek. The creature fell still. He'd killed one of them.
But his victory was short-lived. Another shriek, sharp and close, sliced through the air, followed by a searing pain in his back. He gritted his teeth, a groan escaping his lips, and let go of his sword, collapsing onto his stomach. The world swam before his remaining eye, the pain overwhelming. He had won a battle, but another Shadow Claw remained. He was badly wounded, his body screaming in protest. "I need help," he thought, the desperate plea echoing in his mind. But the thought was quickly dismissed. "No," he muttered, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. "I've never received help from anyone anyway, so why would I start now?"
A searing pain lanced through his eye and shoulder, making his arms tremble as he struggled to his feet. A single tear rolled down his uninjured cheek, while a tear of blood traced a crimson path from his injured eye. He stood, swaying slightly, his body wracked with pain.
Another shriek sliced through the air. He reacted instantly, dodging to the side, but the Shadow Claw's claws still grazed his shoulder, tearing through his clothing. He reached for his sword, his grip unsteady but determined. He listened intently, anticipating the next shriek. When it came, he swung the sword with a grunt, putting all his remaining strength into the blow. A loud crack echoed through the forest, followed by a final, desperate shriek. He had struck his target. He had killed it. He collapsed to his knees, his body spent, but alive.
He looked up, groaning, expecting lingering pain. Then, the familiar blue shimmer of the system interface appeared before him, and the words LEVEL UP! blazed across the screen. A wave of relief washed over him, so intense it almost stole his breath. He could feel it – the warmth spreading through his body, mending the torn flesh, soothing the aching muscles. He blinked, his left eye, moments before filled with agonizing pain and darkness, now clear and sharp. Vision returned, and with it, a surge of exhilaration.
"Whoa," he breathed, his voice thick with surprise and wonder. "It… it actually worked. Again." He couldn't help but smile, a mixture of disbelief and relief spreading across his face. Every time he leveled up, the healing was instantaneous, a miraculous restoration that defied all logic. He quickly stood, his movements fluid and effortless, and ran a hand over his skin, feeling the smooth, unbroken surface where moments before there had been wounds. There was no pain, only a pleasant warmth. He was glad to be healed; the exhaustion was significantly lessened. He still had a long way to go to reach the river. The forest felt menacing, even now.
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He checked his stats:
```
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: G LVL: 3
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 35/35 MP: 31/31
STR: 15 AGI: 13 DEF: 32
STATUS: Healthy
Skills: Armour Craft, Weapon Craft
```
He wasn't happy, not really. He was relieved, yes, but the forest still felt dangerous. He still had a long journey ahead of him. The increased defense—a result of his level up and the armor he wore—was a small comfort, but it didn't erase the fear. He needed to get to the river.
He glanced to his left and saw his rusty sword lying on the ground where it had fallen. He picked it up, the weight familiar and comforting in his hand. This blade, this battered, seemingly useless piece of metal, had actually worked. He wondered if his old wooden sword would have fared as well against those Shadow Claws. He examined the edge of the sword, noting the dullness. It wasn't nearly as sharp as the wooden sword had been, yet it had been tough enough to kill those creatures. He looked around for the bodies of the Shadow Claws, but they were gone. Vanished. Confusion clouded his mind. He'd hoped to at least salvage their hides, perhaps use them to craft something useful. But now... now there was nothing left but the silence of the forest.
The system display shimmered into existence again, its message stark and unwelcome: `XP reduced by 25% due to lack of Goddess's Blessing.` Tyler scratched his head, the gesture more out of frustration than itch. Goddess's Blessing? What in the world was that? A goddess… wasn't that just a female god? And what did a goddess have to do with anything? This whole system, this bizarre game-like overlay on reality… it was all so confusing. He didn't understand any of it. How had he even gotten here? One minute he'd been in his room, frustrated, angrily smashing a flower pendant Mike had given him… and the next, he was in this creepy forest, fighting monsters. The pendant… maybe that had something to do with it? But how? The questions swirled in his mind, unanswered, a nagging sense of unease settling over him.
His throat felt like sandpaper. He was desperately thirsty. The river. He'd been wanting to reach the river for so long, but the constant threat of monsters had kept him on edge, forcing him to focus on survival. Now, though, the immediate danger seemed to have passed. It was only a two-kilometer walk from where he'd fought the slimes, the hexhorn, and the Shadow Claws. He should have reached the river by now.
He started walking, the thought of water a welcome distraction from the lingering unease. Then, an idea sparked in his mind. He could climb a tree, get a better vantage point. Maybe from up high, he could spot any remaining enemies, plan his route, and even locate more slimes to fight. The thought of gaining more experience and leveling up again spurred him on. He scanned the area, searching for a suitable tree, his thirst momentarily forgotten in the pursuit of a strategic advantage.
He climbed another tree, the rough bark scratching against his hands. From his vantage point, he could see the river. It was incredibly close, just yards away. Relief washed over him; the end of his arduous journey was in sight.
But his relief was short-lived. His eyes scanned the area, and he spotted several slimes, more than he'd seen in any other area so far. It seemed this area was a slime hotspot. Then, his gaze fell upon a more dramatic scene: a Hexhorn, its horns gleaming faintly in the moonlight, was chasing a Shadow Claw through the undergrowth. He could see other creatures scattered throughout the area, their locations now clear to him. He had a map of the immediate dangers, a crucial piece of information that would greatly aid his journey to the river for now
From his vantage point, he noticed the smoke he'd seen earlier from the other tree was still visible, though fainter now, suggesting a fire further off. He climbed down, the familiar scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filling his nostrils. Water. He needed water, and the slimes offered a chance to gain more experience. He chose a route that would take him towards both the river and the slimes, a calculated risk.
"Ugh, slimes," he muttered, the thought of their grotesque movements sending a shiver down his spine. "But XP is XP. And I'm thirsty as hell." The river was close, but the path wasn't clear. He would have to fight his way through. "Let's do this," he said, a grim determination hardening his features.
He took the path, his senses on high alert. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a Hexhorn. It was preoccupied, its nose seemingly scraping against the inside of a small hole in the ground, completely oblivious to his presence. A wave of fear washed over him, but he forced himself to remain calm, moving slowly and carefully. He passed the Hexhorn without incident, his heart pounding in his chest.
He could hear the sound of rushing water, a promise of relief, but the river remained unseen. Then, before him, three slimes appeared from a nearby bush. The one on his left was a typical, grotesque slime, clearly marked SLIME LEVEL 4. To his right, a smaller one, marked SLIME LEVEL 6. But it was the slime in the middle that stole his breath – a big, round, bluish creature clearly labeled SLIME LEVEL 10.
"A Level 10...?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. He'd faced higher-level enemies before, but the sheer size and the clear designation of this slime made it feel different.
The Level 4 slime attacked first, launching itself at him with the same grotesque, unnerving movements he'd come to expect. He reacted instantly, bringing his sword down in a swift, decisive strike. The slime fell to the ground, crumbling into a pile of blue dust that quickly vanished.
Before he could react, the Level 6 slime launched itself at him. He parried the attack, but the slime didn't dissolve. It simply fell to the ground, seemingly unharmed. Then, a system message appeared: `Slime activated Bash skill.`
Before he could process the message, the large, round Level 10 slime struck him in the stomach. The force of the blow sent him sprawling backward, his feet skidding on the ground. He braced himself, expecting searing pain, but the impact, though forceful, was surprisingly muted thanks to his armor. It felt like a powerful shove, more than a crushing blow. He still doubled over, clutching his stomach, winded more than injured
He felt his lips crack as he licked them, the dryness a stark reminder of his desperate need for water. Ignoring the discomfort, he charged at the Level 10 slime, adrenaline surging through him. But before he could reach it, a slimy mass slammed into his side—the Level 6 slime, which he'd foolishly assumed was defeated. He stumbled, momentarily off-balance, and before he could recover, the Level 10 slime struck again, this time sending him hurtling backward into a tree trunk. His shoulder slammed against the rough bark, a sharp pain shooting through him. He groaned. A glance at his status showed his HP had dropped to 31.
Ignoring the pain and the drop in health, he focused on the Level 6 slime. As it launched itself at him, he reacted instinctively, bringing his sword down in a swift, decisive strike. The blade found its mark, and this time, the slime dissolved into dust. The Level 10 slime remained, a formidable opponent standing between him and the river, which was, in fact, very close, He was bruised, winded, and his thirst was almost unbearable, but the river was within reach.
The Level 10 slime, using its Bash skill, launched itself at him. He dodged, barely avoiding the impact. The slime tried again, but he dodged that attack as well. He found himself surprised; the slime, despite its size and level, seemed slower than the Shadow Claws he'd faced earlier. It lunged a third time. This time, instead of dodging, he drove his sword through the creature, the blade passing cleanly through its gelatinous form.
A strange, almost musical kyuu sound echoed as the slime, in mid-air, dissolved into shimmering blue dust that quickly faded away.
A genuine smile, the first real one in a long time, spread across his face. He had done it. He had survived the encounter. He ran towards the river, the sound of rushing water growing louder with each step—a vibrant rush, a whispering cascade, a symphony of liquid movement that promised solace and refreshment. He reached the bank, and the sight of the river, gleaming softly under the moonlight, filled him with a profound sense of relief and accomplishment.
He knelt, his knees sinking into the cool grass, and cupped his hands, scooping up the water. He drank deeply, splashing the water in his mouth, the cool liquid a balm to his parched throat. He drank again and again, until the intense thirst began to recede. A long, shuddering breath escaped his lips, a sigh of pure relief.
Standing, he looked towards the faint smoke on the horizon, a persistent reminder of the journey that still lay ahead.
He then remembered his subjugation skill, his eyes widening in realization. He scratched his head, muttering, "Idiot! I completely forgot about that!" He could have used it on the Hexhorn, or even one of the slimes. "Well," he mused, "there's always another time. Maybe there are stronger creatures out there where it would be more useful." He scratched his head again, considering his options. Crossing the river was still a problem, but as he began to follow the river downstream, a surprising sight met his eyes. A tree, laden with fruit, stood before him. The fruit was unlike anything he'd ever seen—a curious blend of mango and apple, perhaps. He didn't know what they were, but for the first time since he'd entered this strange world, he had found food.