Richter trudged through the underbrush with ragged breaths, his eyes set on the looming mountain in the distance. "You know, Charles," he began, casting a sidelong glance at the stick propped under his arm, "I've always held the belief that Mondays were created by the same sadists who invented cardio."

Charles, his silent, wooden companion, offered no retort, yet Richter didn't miss a beat. "Sure, while Mondays are easily the worst day of the week, I think any day you end up traversing a monster-ridden forest in fancy dress wear can comfortably take the title of 'worst day'," he said, his voice dipping into a gruff imitation of what he imagined Charles might sound like if sticks could speak.

Richter looked thoughtfully at Charles, considering his words before cracking a small smile, "Ah, that’s a good counter-argument, Charles. But I still believe that Mondays are the worst. Saying that though, today is Wednesday, and by that logic, we're already fairing better, right?"

Richter sighed as he gently placed Charles upright against a gnarled tree stump, brushing off a smattering of leaves that had clung to his surface. Sir Charles, ever the stoic companion, offered no objection, and instead, simply vibed with the ambience of the forest. Richter's smile wavered—only for a moment—before resolve steeled his features.

It had only been a couple days, but Richter had gotten far better at traversing the woodlands. Well, ‘far better’ could be considered quite an exaggeration, but considering his shitty baseline, he’d say he’s made quite the progress. And the system agreed.

[You have discovered a passive skill (Traveling)!]

[Passive Skill (Traveling) has reached level 22!]

[(Traveling) - Increases traveling speed outside of combat by 22%. Increases the ease of traversing difficult terrains outside of combat by 22%.]

With his newly acquired skill, Richter felt a new sense of ease with each step that he took. The forest, which once seemed to claw at him with its twisted branches and roots, now seemed to almost guide him along a chosen path. Richter could feel the soles of his boots mold to the forest floor, each step surer than the last.

Richter was beginning to get a basic understanding of how skills might work in this world. His current hypothesis for how it might work seemed to be pretty solid, at least in his eyes. Based on current evidence, it seems that skills were something you got naturally by doing certain actions. For example, his new skill [Traveling].

All that he has done recently was walk for the last few days, but the system has taken an action as simple as that and gave him a skill for it. Most likely, he had earned the skill because he has been repeating the action multiple times, for long periods of time. And as he continues to do this action, he’ll continue to gain experience and become better at the skill, and in this scenario, that’s walking.

It’s hard to say without more evidence, but Richter had a strong feeling that this would work with the other skills he has acquired so far. For instance, the skill he got when he created Sir Charles, [General Crafting]. Now, he had a good feeling that if he were to craft a ton of different Charles, Richter felt there was a good chance that [General Crafting] would level up as well.

Even so, while his new [Traveling] skill had gotten stronger, it definitely wasn’t foolproof. The hem of his dress would still occasionally get snagged on the pervasive Greenbrier plants, or he’d trip over one of the gnarled roots governing the forest floor, much to Sir Charles amusement.

Though annoyed, Richter was thankful for the unexpected brambles of ripe wild blackberries among the thorny vines. They provided a plump and juicy distraction, a welcome respite that eased his hunger and thirst. It had been a couple of days since his last real meal, and while he could endure the discomfort, the tight knot of hunger in his stomach was getting difficult to ignore. It was a challenge, but it was nothing he couldn't handle, and Richter seized the chance to savor the sweet berries.

As he nibbled on the last of the blackberries, Richter chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip, his gaze narrowing as he surveyed the remaining expanse between himself and the mountain. Eventually, he turned back to Charles, who lay beside him in the undergrowth. "Eh… I reckon about another day's hike before we get there," he muttered, more to himself than to Charles. He nodded decisively, as if to confirm his own estimate, and hoisted Charles into a more comfortable position.

“So Charles, what's the grand plan once we reach our goal, hm?" He paused expectantly, his head cocked, waiting for a response that would never come. When the silence stretched on, Richter huffed a laugh, and rolled his eyes dramatically. "What do you mean, 'you don't know'? Here I thought you had everything planned out when you told me the mountain looked like an interesting place to go to!" Richter scolded the stick, but his tone remained light, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

Shaking his head with a slight smile, Richter hoisted Charles over his shoulder, looking out into the distance with a small sigh. "Well, no point dawdling—the mountain awaits, my woody friend."

With an exaggerated step over a tangled vine, he launched into another tale to pass the time. “Say Charles, did I ever tell you about my great aunt Matilda’s penchant for knitting sweaters for her cacti collection? Odd hobby that was…”

*___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________*

Richter, his lungs burning from exertion, emerged from the dense tangle of the forest and onto a large outcropping. The ground beneath him, a mosaic of stone and moss, gave way to a vast view of the area. The night was returning, and Richter dropped to the ground with a groan, not caring about how uncomfortable the small patch of brambles he landed in was. It had been a day and a half's trek since his last rest, and finally, he arrived. There, dominating the horizon and claiming the sky, stood a mountain of such impossible scale that it seemed like a deity amongst mere mortals of the earth.

The mountain was not just another landscape feature; it was colossal, an entity in its own right. Its base was surrounded by forests that seemed to bow in reverence. Crystal veins, sparkling and radiant, snaked their way through the rugged stone, pulsating with a power that shimmered with colors when they caught the sun's fading light. The mountain rose from the earth like a titan, its peak piercing the heavens and shrouded in a cloak of mist. Goliath pillars encircled the mountain, each having gigantic runes carved into the stone that lit up with a luminescent glow.

It was strange. He couldn’t quite put a finger on the feeling, but it felt as if the stone giant seemed to call out to Richter, like a siren's song that resonated in his chest, urging him forward. It was as if the mountain itself was aware of his presence and had been patiently waiting for his arrival.

"You feel that, Charles?" Richter murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might break the spell the mountain had cast over them. "It's like it's singing to us... or to me, I guess. I don’t take you for much of a music enthusiast."

Charles, ever the silent companion, said nothing, but Richter felt the weight of the stick shift ever so slightly on his shoulder, as if in agreement—or perhaps it was just the wind playing tricks on him again.

Richter chuckled, shaking his head. "Who am I kidding? You're just a stick. But still, it's nice to pretend you can hear it too. Makes me feel a bit less loony, you know?"

In the mountain's shadow, where one might expect darkness to reside, there was instead an ethereal luminescence. The foliage was bathed in a soft, sapphire glow, a bioluminescence that gave the forest an almost dreamlike state. The light was like a living entity that seemed to hum with the very essence of the mountain itself.

As Richter stood, looking down from the large outcropping, he caught glimpses of fleeting shadows within the woods. Ethereal creatures darted between the trees: translucent deer with antlers that shimmered like crystal, their hooves leaving no prints in the ground. They pranced around the woods, their eyes seeming to carry no care for the area nor the dangers around them. Another strange creature, resembling a rabbit but with ears that twisted upwards into spiraling horns, nibbled on a patch of glowing fungi, its eyes reflecting the stars that began to light up the night sky. It twitched its nose at Richter, unafraid, before bounding away, leaving a trail of luminescent spores that floated in the air.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

In the distance, Richter caught sight of a creature that looked like a Direwolf, its fur as black as the void. It watched him with intelligent eyes before vanishing like a specter into the undergrowth. Richter whistled, his eyes drawn to the breathtaking scene of the stone giant in front of him, and the lively creatures residing around it.

The sun began to dip towards the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple, adding a surreal backdrop to the mountain that seemed to beckon him even more fervently. The sight stilled Richter's heart for a moment, and he couldn't help but feel that this journey, as absurd as it had been, was meant to lead him to this very spot.

[You have discovered a new area (The Whispering Peaks)!]

…

[You have discovered a quest! (Quest: The Shroud of the Mountain]

[Objective: Discover the secrets of the Whispering Peaks.]

[Rewards: ?]

…

[Passive Skill (Observe) has reached level 3!]

[(Observe) - Increases perception by 3% and the likelihood of noticing hidden details. Higher levels increase the information gained from observed beings.]

"Looks like we've hit the jackpot, Charles. New area, new quest, and another skill leveled up," Richter said with a grin, feeling a surge of accomplishment. "Finally, this damn system has given me some direction. About time.” Richter added bitterly, the annoyance becoming apparent in his tone.

“On the plus side, this [Observe] skill could also come in handy. Maybe we'll find some hidden treasures or secret paths up the mountain. Anything is better than nothing, in my opinion."

He stood up, brushing off the bits of brambles stuck to his clothes, and took a deep breath. The air was crisper here, filled with the scent of pine and the cool feeling of the approaching night. His muscles ached from the journey, but the lure of the mountain invigorated him, pushing him to continue despite the fatigue. Yet, Richter knew better than to follow that feeling, and instead turned to his companion.

"Alright, Charles, let's set up camp for the night. Tomorrow, we climb," Richter declared, his determination unwavering. He began to gather wood for a fire, not from Charles, of course, but from the fallen branches scattered around the outcropping.

Richter set Charles down gently against a rock, making sure his 'face' was turned towards the fire. "You keep watch, okay? I feel like I’m about to pass out from the lack of sleep the past couple days, so I’m gonna try to catch some Z’s. We've got a big day ahead of us, buddy, so I’m gonna try to get some rest." Richter said, adjusting his dress to try to use it more as a pillow.

“Remember buddy,” Richter added, shutting his eyes with a sigh, “If you see anything suspicious, make sure you holler. Sound good?”

Charles, of course, remained silent, his stick form incapable of such feats as hollering—or keeping watch, for that matter. But Richter had to take the risk to sleep tonight, as the days of fatigue and lack of sleep were starting to severely affect him. With a final yawn, Richter stretched out beside the fire, the warmth soothing his aching limbs.

*___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________*

The tranquility of the campsite was abruptly shattered by a guttural snarl that ripped through the night. Richter's eyes snapped open, a burst of adrenaline flooding his system as he rolled to his feet. The fire had dwindled to embers, casting eerie shadows across the clearing. In the dim light, Richter could make out the hulking form of a large, mutated boar, its eyes glowing with a malevolent red light as it charged towards him, tusks gleaming with a deadly, metallic sheen.

Richter's hand instinctively reached for Charles, gripping the stick with a white-knuckled intensity. The boar was upon him in seconds, its massive form barreling down with terrifying speed. Ducking to the side, Richter barely avoided the boar's first lunge, feeling the rush of air as the creature's tusks slashed through the space he had occupied moments before.

[Steel Tusk Boar (4) - A simple creature native to the newly initiated planet, Earth. Warning: Enemy possesses poison resistance and high physical resistance.]

With no time to react, Richter brandished Charles like a sword, hoping the stick’s woody firmness might offer some form of defense. “Shit! Alright, Charles! Time to show me what you've got!” he shouted, his voice a blend of desperation and madness.

Richter swung Charles at the boar, aiming for its head. The stick struck true, but the impact was laughably ineffective, producing a dull thud as it bounced off the beast's mutated hide. The boar seemed more irritated than hurt, shaking its head disdainfully before fixing its malevolent gaze back on Richter.

[Notice: Charles used as a weapon. No damage inflicted.]

"Damn it," Richter cursed under his breath, tossing Charles aside. "Time for plan B." He raised his fists, settling into a defensive stance. The boar charged once more, tusks aimed to impale. Richter ducked and weaved, relying on his enhanced perception to predict the creature's movements.

[Hand-to-Hand Combat Initiated. Please be advised: fighting with fists against a Steel Tusk Boar (4) is not recommended.]

“Gods, you don’t need to tell me! Get out of my way!” Richter yelled, pushing the notifications to the side of his vision. Richter felt his knuckles connect with the side of the boar's head, a sharp pain shooting up his arm as he hit the hard, mutated bone. He fell back, narrowly avoiding a counterattack that would have skewered him. His fists were his only weapons now, and he had no idea what to do with them.

Gritting his teeth, Richter focused on striking the boar's more vulnerable spots, targeting its eyes and snout. The boars hide was thick and tough to the touch, but it had vital components to its body just like any other animal.

The boar let out an angry squeal, its movements becoming more erratic as Richter's assault continued. He saw an opening and took it, launching himself at the beast with a flying kick aimed at its underbelly. The impact sent both of them tumbling to the ground.

Richter rolled away, coming up to his feet just as the boar regained its footing. They circled each other, the boar's breaths coming in ragged snorts, its eyes filled with a feral rage.

Then, the boar lunged again, faster than before. Richter sidestepped, feeling the rush of wind as the tusks passed by his face. He countered with a series of rapid punches, each blow fueled by adrenaline and the sheer will to survive. The boar's tough skin was starting to show signs of wear, small patches of blood marring its coarse fur.

Richter could feel his energy waning, his breaths coming in short, painful gasps. He needed to end this quickly. With a final burst of strength, he launched himself at the boar, fists flying like hammers. He struck the beast repeatedly, his blows now driven by a primal ferocity he didn't know he possessed.

The boar faltered, its movements slowing, its breaths becoming labored. Richter didn't let up, hammering away until, with a final, thunderous uppercut, he sent the boar crashing to the ground.

[You have slain Steeltusk Boar (4)! Increased experience gained for killing an enemy higher level than you.]

[Hand to hand combat has reached level 3! +3% to damage output dealt by hand to hand combat. +3% to speed of attacks from hand to hand combat.]

[Level 3 reached. Stats allocated. +6 free points earned]

Panting, Richter stood over the fallen creature, his body trembling from exertion and pain. "Never again, Charles," he panted, his gaze falling on the stick lying on the ground. "Next time, we stick to the proper weapons. No offense, buddy."

Richter blinked as a notification popped up in his vision, and he quickly scanned the text.

[Companion Sir Charles of Stickdom: Loyalty Increased. Charles may not be sentient, but your dedication to him has been noted.]

Richter could hardly believe the words that floated before his eyes. "Companion Sir Charles of Stickdom?" He read aloud, a bewildered chuckle escaping his lips. He glanced over at the Charles who was propped up against the rock, the fire reflecting off its smooth surface. "I must be more tired than I thought," he mused, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But then again, why would the system treat you as a real object, Charles? It's almost as if it's playing along with my madness."

Shaking his head, Richter bent down to retrieve Charles, cradling the stick in his arms. "Well, Sir Charles," he said, with a mock bow, "it seems you've been knighted by the system itself. And it appears your loyalty to me is unwavering, despite you being, well, a stick."

Richter sat down in a huff, the adrenaline from the fight quickly dissipating. He thought about the battle, replaying each moment in his mind. "It’s a little strange… That boar was surprisingly weak compared to the anomaly I fought earlier. You would think different, considering the size different, you know?” Richter said, confusion etched on his face.

Eventually, he just shrugged, “Well, I suppose I should be grateful for that; it gave me an opportunity to test out the strength from my new levels." He glanced at his bruised knuckles, wincing slightly at the tenderness. "Although I doubt punching my way out of every fight is the best strategy."

He briefly reviewed his recent gains, the level up and the points he'd earned. "More points… gonna have to decide where to put these," he murmured, "Ah, but that’s a problem for the me of tomorrow. Rest is more important right now." Richter stood, walking over to the remnants of the fire to stoke it back to life. The warmth felt good against his skin, soothing the aches that permeated his body.

He turned to Charles, who was once again positioned to 'keep watch'. "Alright man, I'm going to trust you to keep a better lookout this time," Richter said in a scolding tone. "No more surprise visitors, alright? I need some sleep if we're going to tackle that mountain tomorrow."

Richter laid down, the ground hard against his back, but he was too exhausted to care. He closed his eyes, the events of the day swirling in his mind. The mountain's call, the discovery of The Whispering Peaks and the quest, the leveling up of his skills, and the bizarre acknowledgment of Charles as a real companion.