As the dragon’s shadow passed overhead, Liam pulled himself further under the waterfall, letting the deluge obscure him. He edged back until his foot struck stone. Narrow ledges carved into the cliffside caught his attention - whether by human hands or natural erosion, he didn’t know, but he was grateful for their presence.

The ledge was barely six inches wide at its broadest, but it was better than nothing. Liam climbed onto it, pressing his back against the rock as he inched sideways, using the gnarled tree for balance. He dared a glance upward. The dragon roared again, its massive form swooping low over the jungle canopy. Its wings sent powerful gusts of wind rippling through the treetops, shaking loose leaves and branches.

The jungle was alive with sound, the dragon’s presence stirring its inhabitants into a frenzy. Distant screeches and growls mixed with the rustling of unseen creatures. Liam’s muscles ached as he clung to the ledge, every second stretching into an eternity. The air around him felt charged, as though the dragon’s rage itself had altered the atmosphere.

Time passed in a torturous crawl. Liam’s body was a mass of tension, his muscles locked as he remained perfectly still. The dragon’s movements grew more erratic, its roars echoing less frequently. It was searching, he realized, but its precision wasn’t absolute. Whether it was the jungle’s dense foliage, the waterfall’s masking effect, or Umbra’s subtle interference, Liam wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it was working. For now.

As the sky began to darken, the dragon’s silhouette became harder to track. Liam remained vigilant, his eyes scanning the shadows above for any sign of movement. The memory of his childhood cat, Tom, waiting patiently for hours by a mouse hole, haunted him. The dragon could be doing the same, lying in wait for him to make a mistake.

“What do you think, Umbra?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waterfall. “Any ideas?”

Umbra didn’t respond with her usual nudge or pulse. Instead, she shivered against him, her unease palpable. Liam patted her gently, his touch meant to reassure her as much as himself. The cold of the waterfall must have been taking a toll on her. He wasn’t sure how slimes handled temperature - were they cold-blooded? Warm-blooded? Did it even matter? All he knew was that her trembling mirrored his own fear.

A soft chime broke through his thoughts. A notification flickered into view, its glowing text stark against the darkening sky.

System Message:

New Quest Update: Escape the Dragon’s Lair.

A green checkmark marked the objective, but the quest itself remained incomplete. Liam frowned, his frustration mounting. “Not exactly helpful,” he muttered. The system, as always, was maddeningly cryptic.

The system chimed again, this time with a list of effects for his recently acquired skill:

Skill: Primal Instinct: Predator’s Path

Grants heightened environmental awareness, increasing evasion and movement speed in natural settings.

Unlocks the ability to sense nearby threats and identify safe routes instinctively.

Enhances reflexes and stamina regeneration while in wilderness environments.

Liam grinned, “Well, I guess I was right. Do intense shit, get rewarded.”

Closing his eyes, he pressed his palms against the slick stone behind him and activated Tremor Sense. The world shifted, the vibrations of the environment painting a vivid, albeit chaotic, mental map in his mind. He felt the dragon’s weight as it landed somewhere above, its claws digging into the earth. Smaller tremors rippled through the jungle, the movements of countless creatures registering like faint whispers.

Liam’s heart pounded as he focused on the dragon’s movements. It wasn’t leaving. It was waiting.

“Guess we’re playing the long game,” he muttered. Umbra pressed against him in silent agreement. The waterfall roared around them, a curtain of noise shielding them from the predator that hunted just beyond its reach.

Continuing to use his tremor sense to parse out his surroundings, he found it more difficult to do than he’d first assumed it would be.

The noise was relentless, a chaotic symphony of sound that made it nearly impossible to focus. The roar of the waterfall was deafening, a constant backdrop that drowned out everything else. The rush of wind whistling through the crevices in the cliff wall added to the disorientation.

Liam squeezed his eyes tighter, as he gripped the wall with his palms cupped against the rock face, like an athlete palming a basketball. He tried to filter out the cacophony. His breathing was shallow, his muscles taut from standing precariously on the ledge for what felt like an eternity.

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Bit by bit, he began to separate the layers of sound. The waterfall was the loudest, a crashing roar that reverberated through his bones. Beneath that was the hollow whistle of wind moving through unseen gaps in the stone. Slowly, as he honed his focus, another sound emerged - softer, subtler. The echoes of the waterfall shifted, their intensity dampened in one small area below him. It was as though the water struck an empty chamber rather than solid rock.

There, he thought. That’s what I’ve been looking for.

Through his tremor sense, he confirmed it - a hollow space approximately three meters below him. The vibrations from the falling water rebounded differently in that spot, signaling an opening in the rock. It might not be much - perhaps just a shallow alcove - but it was the best option he had. His legs burned from standing still for so long, and his balance was beginning to falter. He couldn’t remain here indefinitely.

Carefully, Liam slipped his clawed climbing tools back onto his hands and feet. His fingers worked quickly, tightening the straps with practiced efficiency. The tools had become second nature now, an extension of his body. Turning back toward the cliff face, he grabbed the gnarled tree root he’d been leaning on and shifted his weight forward. His breath hitched as he tested the first foothold, his muscles tense with anticipation.

Lowering himself down the slick rock face wasn’t easy, but compared to the frantic climb through the dragon’s lair, it felt almost routine. The movements came naturally, his muscle memory guiding him as he descended. He cast a glance at his system notifications and couldn’t help but smirk when he saw the skill advancements. His Climbing skill had jumped several levels since this ordeal began.

“Use it, or lose it,” he muttered to himself, his voice muffled by the sound of the waterfall, as he saw that with the system -by practicing a skill, he saw quantifiable gains. “Don’t use it, and - well, we’re not going to find out what happens if I stop.”

He worked his way down methodically, his claws digging into the stone with a satisfying crunch. The spray from the waterfall soaked him to the bone, making the rock face even more treacherous. But he pressed on, his focus unwavering. After what felt like an eternity, he reached the cave’s entrance.

It wasn’t large - twice his height at most and about three meters wide - but it was enough. The floor was mercifully flat, a rare luxury after hours of clinging to uneven surfaces. The air inside was damp and cool, carrying the faint, earthy scent of moss and wet stone. Liam ducked inside, his shoulders slumping as the tension in his body began to ease.

“Alright, buddy,” he said, pulling Umbra out of his armor. The slime pulsed faintly, her colors shifting in a subdued display of relief. “Let’s rest here for a bit. Figure out what our next move is. Maybe - just maybe - figure out what it is we stole that’s got that dragon so worked up. Because, honestly, nothing we took is worth our lives. If it wants its treasure back, maybe we can just give it to her and call it even.”

Umbra wiggled in his hands, her movements slow and tired. Liam set her down gently, watching as she flattened herself against the cave floor. Her colors shifted again, this time taking on a soft, bioluminescent glow. It wasn’t harsh or glaring, but enough to illuminate the small space around them.

“Thanks, glowworm,” he said with a faint smile. “That’s… actually kind of perfect.”

He adjusted the glow to a muted hue, something less obvious that wouldn’t catch an observer’s attention if the dragon decided to circle back. The dim light bathed the cave in shades of green and blue, creating an almost serene atmosphere.

Liam began stripping off his armor, piece by mismatched piece. The chainmail clinked softly as he set it aside, its weight a reminder of just how much it had slowed him during the river crossing. His war-fork followed, the weapon’s wicked prongs gleaming faintly in Umbra’s light. He laid it all out before him, taking stock of what he had left. The dagger he had taken from the treasure hoard caught his eye, its craftsmanship mesmerizing even in the dim light.

The blade was sleek and elegant, its edge so sharp it seemed to hum with latent energy. He turned it over in his hands, marveling at the intricate engravings along the hilt and the faint, almost imperceptible pulse of power emanating from it.

“No idea what you are,” he murmured, “but you’ve definitely got some kind of story.” He ran his thumb along the blade’s edge, careful not to press too hard. The memory of using it against the Burrower Queen surfaced, the blade slicing through chitin as though it were nothing. He frowned, wishing for the hundredth time that he had some kind of identification skill.

“I need to figure that out,” he muttered. “Not everything has to die for me to get stronger. Umbra’s proof of that.” He glanced down at the little slime, who wiggled in response to his thoughts. “Deals over death. That’s one way to do it, right?”

The cave grew quieter as he settled in, the sound of the waterfall muffled by the stone walls. Liam leaned back against the damp rock, his mind wandering to the visions he’d experienced during his confrontation with Umbra’s slime mother. The images had been vivid, raw, and unrelenting - too real to dismiss as mere illusions. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were fragments of truth, glimpses of a past or a future he didn’t yet understand.

Sarah’s face lingered in his mind, her smile warm and radiant. And then, the little girl. Her laughter had been so clear, so full of life, that it made his chest ache just to think about it. If those visions were real - if there was even a chance of reclaiming that life - then he had no choice but to survive. He needed to reassess his goals, to find reasons beyond himself to keep moving forward.

Umbra shifted against his leg, her warmth grounding him in the present. He smiled faintly, patting her gently. “We’re gonna figure this out,” he said softly. “One step at a time.”

As he adjusted his position, he felt a faint hum of energy emanating from Umbra. The light around her shifted slightly, revealing her ability to manipulate the glow with surprising precision. Liam couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Umbra pulsed in agreement, her light dimming as Liam’s thoughts turned practical again. The cave was a brief respite, but he knew it wouldn’t last. The dragon was still out there, and the jungle beyond the waterfall held its own dangers. For now, though, he allowed himself a moment of calm - a rare luxury in a world that seemed determined to break him at every turn.