The darkness was heavy, pressing down on Elias like a suffocating blanket. At first, he wasn't sure if he was alive or dead. His limbs felt distant, disconnected, and his mind swam in a fog of lingering pain. The ache in his stomach had dulled, but his body still screamed with exhaustion.

Slowly, the cold, hard ground beneath him became more tangible. He stirred, barely managing to open his eyes. The world around him was bathed in a dim, early-morning light. The twin suns hadn't fully risen yet, their light a faint glow on the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees.

Elias groaned, his throat dry and raw. His body felt battered, each muscle aching as if he'd been trampled. His stomach churned weakly, the poison's effects not entirely gone but no longer crippling. He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the sky, trying to get his bearings.

The faint sound of the river trickling nearby was the only thing breaking the stillness, and for a moment, he just lay there, too weak to move, too drained to care.

I survived? The thought was distant, almost foreign in the haze of his mind. He had expected the poison to kill him, to leave him as another forgotten body in this strange world.

But somehow, he was still alive.

As he blinked against the harsh morning light, his HUD flickered into view. A new notification pinged softly in the corner of his vision.

New Skill Unlocked: Poison Resistance (Level 1)

You've survived! And in doing so, your body now has a slightly better chance of not collapsing when poisoned. Good luck out there!

Elias groaned again, this time with bitter amusement. "Great," he muttered, his voice hoarse. All it cost me was nearly dying.

He shut his eyes, willing himself to rest for just a moment longer, but the persistent ache in his body reminded him that he couldn't stay here. He rolled onto his side, his muscles screaming in protest, but he forced himself to move.

Every part of his body felt sluggish, as if weighed down by lead. His throat was dry, parched from the endless vomiting the night before. He could still taste the bitterness of bile, clinging to the back of his mouth.

Water. That was all he could think about. His body ached, his mind was foggy, but the river—its soft, constant trickle—beckoned him with the promise of relief.

With a grunt, Elias pushed himself onto his hands and knees, wobbling as his limbs threatened to give out beneath him. The cold ground beneath his palms felt solid, grounding him as he tried to steady himself. Slowly, painfully, he crawled toward the riverbank, each movement sending ripples of exhaustion through his body.

When he finally reached the edge of the water, he collapsed, his arms trembling with the effort. He dipped his hands into the cool water, his fingers shaking, and cupped enough to bring to his lips. The first sip was bliss—a shock of cold relief washing over the raw dryness in his throat. He drank greedily, ignoring the way his hands wobbled, splashing water down his chin.

The cool liquid seemed to chase away some of the fog in his mind, and for the first time in hours, he felt just a little bit human again. He sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling the cool breeze brush against his skin.

I made it through the night... somehow.

But as the clarity returned, so did the reality of his situation. He was still weak, barely able to move, and he had no idea what dangers might be lurking nearby. He had to stay on guard, even if his body was begging him for rest.

Elias wiped his face with the back of his hand and stared at the river for a few more moments, letting the cold water settle in his stomach. The clarity it brought, however temporary, sparked a thought in his tired mind: he couldn't just sit here, vulnerable and defenseless. He needed something more than a dagger to protect himself—something with reach, something to give him a fighting chance if he faced another goblin or worse.

His eyes scanned the treeline, his muscles still protesting every movement. I need a weapon. Something simple...

A stick. He could use a sturdy branch. The thought formed slowly, but once it was there, it gave him a small burst of energy. He rose to his feet shakily, his legs still weak from the night's ordeal, and stumbled toward the nearest tree. His hands fumbled along the ground, searching through the undergrowth until he found it: a long, relatively straight branch, sturdy enough for what he had in mind.

With the branch in hand, Elias pulled out his dagger. It was crude, not exactly the best tool for this job, but it would have to do. He began stripping away the smaller twigs and leaves, cutting the branch down until it resembled a pole. As he worked, his hands trembled slightly, the lingering effects of the poison still in his system.

Once the branch was ready, he glanced at the dagger, then back at the stick. It's not perfect, he thought, but it'll work.

He positioned the dagger at the end of the branch and began working on a way to secure it. He didn't have rope or any proper materials, but he still had his shirt. Without hesitating, Elias gripped the fabric of his remaining sleeve and tore it away, the sound of ripping cloth harsh in the still air.

Using the strip of fabric, he tied the dagger to the end of the branch as tightly as he could. It wasn't the most secure weapon, but it held. He tugged at the makeshift spear, testing its strength. The dagger wobbled slightly but stayed in place.

New Skill Unlocked: Improvised Weapons (Level 1)

Congrats! You've crafted your first weapon in the wilderness. Sure, it's not fancy, but who needs fancy when you've got creativity on your side?

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Elias stood there for a moment, holding the makeshift spear in his hand. The weapon wasn't exactly refined, but it would serve its purpose. His body still ached from the effects of the poison, and his mind was sluggish, but he knew that he couldn't ignore his hunger much longer. Water was one thing, but he needed food.

His gaze drifted back toward the river. Fish. The thought clicked into place. He wasn't sure if there were any fish in the river, but it was worth a try. The idea of using his newly fashioned spear to catch food seemed both ridiculous and necessary at the same time.

Slowly, Elias made his way to the riverbank, where the water was shallow and clear. He could see small shadows darting beneath the surface—fish. His stomach grumbled at the sight, a reminder that he hadn't eaten anything that hadn't immediately poisoned him since arriving in this strange world.

Catching one of these can't be that hard, right? Elias thought, gripping the spear tightly as he crouched down by the water's edge.

He stepped carefully into the river, wincing as the cold water soaked into his boots. His legs still felt shaky, but he steadied himself as best as he could. The fish were small, quick, darting in and out of the shadows created by the overhanging trees. He watched their movements carefully, trying to judge the right moment to strike.

His first attempt was clumsy—he jabbed the spear into the water too quickly, too forcefully, and the fish scattered instantly. Elias cursed under his breath. Too fast. He adjusted his grip on the spear and tried again. But this time, when he thrust the spear into the water, it seemed like the fish swam just out of his reach. He pulled the spear out of the water with nothing to show for it.

Again and again, Elias jabbed into the water, missing each time. The fish seemed to vanish just as his spear came down, almost as if they were dodging him on purpose. His frustration grew. He was getting hungry, his patience wearing thin, and his body still ached from the night before.

"Come on," he muttered, stabbing the spear into the water with more force. The fish scattered once again, leaving him standing there, soaked and empty-handed.

He stood still for a moment, catching his breath, his arms sore from repeatedly plunging the spear. He stared down at the water, trying to make sense of why he kept missing. The fish were right there, clearly within reach, yet every time he struck, they seemed to slip away.

What am I doing wrong?

Elias crouched lower, eyeing the fish and the way the sunlight reflected on the water's surface. Something clicked. He remembered hearing something about this once—how light reflecting on the water could distort things, make objects look like they were in one place when they were actually in another.

The light... it's displacing where the fish actually are.

He narrowed his eyes, focusing on a single fish darting near the surface. He watched it carefully, adjusting for the angle of the light and the water's refraction. This time, when he raised the spear, he aimed slightly below where the fish appeared to be.

With a swift motion, he thrust the spear downward. The dagger tip sliced through the water—and this time, there was resistance.

Elias pulled the spear up, and to his relief, a small, silvery fish wriggled at the end of the blade, impaled by the dagger's tip.

New Skill Unlocked: Spearfishing (Level 1)

Congratulations! You've successfully discovered the ancient and not-at-all-frustrating art of catching fish with a pointy stick. Good news: It's mostly about patience. Bad news: You'll need a lot of it.

Elias let out a tired laugh as the notification appeared. He pulled the fish off the spear, holding it in his hand for a moment before dropping it onto the riverbank. It wasn't much, but it was food—real food. His body was still weak, but the small victory lifted his spirits, if only for a moment.

He glanced back at the river, realizing he'd need to catch more if he wanted a decent meal. But at least now I know I can do it, he thought, wading back into the water to try again, this time with a better understanding of how to hunt.

An hour later, Elias had managed to catch half a dozen small fish. They lay in a neat pile on the riverbank, their silvery scales glinting in the light. He was exhausted from the effort, but there was a sense of satisfaction in his chest—a feeling that, for once, he had accomplished something.

His stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since... well, since the disastrous berries. I'm not making that mistake again, he thought grimly. But now came the next challenge: cooking.

I need to start a fire.

He glanced around, searching the forest floor for dry wood and kindling. The area near the riverbank wasn't the best place to find dry materials, but he managed to gather some twigs and small branches from a nearby tree, along with a few dried leaves.

Elias set the wood in a pile and knelt beside it, trying to figure out the best way to start a fire. How hard can it be? People have been doing this for thousands of years. He grabbed one of the smaller sticks and placed it between his palms, then pressed it against a flat piece of wood he'd found. He began spinning the stick rapidly, hoping to generate enough friction to create a spark.

He worked at it for several minutes, his hands moving in quick, repetitive motions. His muscles ached from the exertion, but he kept going, determined to make it work. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and his arms started to burn from the effort.

But no matter how fast he spun the stick, no spark appeared. The wood barely even smoked.

Elias gritted his teeth in frustration. Come on!

He tried again, pressing harder this time, spinning the stick faster, but all he succeeded in doing was making his hands raw and sore. The pile of wood remained stubbornly unlit. With a growl of frustration, he sat back on his heels, staring at the useless pile of sticks.

There's got to be another way.

Elias racked his brain, trying to think of how else he could get a fire started. He had seen survival shows where people used flint and steel to create sparks, but he didn't have anything like that—or do I?

His hand drifted to the dagger tied to the end of his makeshift spear. The blade was crude, but it was still metal. And if he could find some kind of stone that could produce sparks...

Elias stood up, scanning the rocky shore of the river. There were plenty of stones scattered around, and after a few minutes of searching, he found a sharp-edged, gray rock that looked promising. Flint? He didn't know much about rocks, but it was worth a shot.

He hurried back to his pile of wood and knelt down again. Holding the rock in one hand and the dagger in the other, he struck the two together, hoping to produce a spark. The first few strikes yielded nothing, but after a few more attempts, he saw a faint flicker—tiny sparks flying off the blade and disappearing into the air.

Yes!

Elias struck the rock against the dagger again, this time more deliberately. The sparks grew brighter, flickering down toward the pile of dried leaves and twigs. He leaned in closer, carefully aiming the sparks at the kindling.

After several more strikes, one of the sparks caught, igniting a tiny ember in the dried leaves. Elias quickly leaned down, blowing gently on the ember, coaxing it into life. The small flame flickered weakly, but with some careful nurturing and more added twigs, it grew into a steady, crackling fire.

New Skill Unlocked: Fire-starting (Level 1)

Who needs a lighter when you've got determination, a rock, and raw frustration? Congrats on mastering the art of not freezing or starving!

Elias let out a relieved breath, sitting back and watching the flames dance in front of him. His arms were sore, and his hands were rough from the failed attempts, but the fire was warm and steady.

Finally... he thought, a tired smile crossing his face. Now, at least, he could cook the fish and eat something real.