Nam lay on the forest floor. Birds were singing, animals were dancing, and the air smelled fresh and pure. Yet, his body felt numb. His clothes were covered in dirt, and every inch of him ached. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

"Ah… What happened to me?"

He groggily lifted a hand to his head and remained on the ground, eyes half-open, until he heard a sound.

"Pffft! Psshhht!"

A deer? The noise startled him, sending a shiver down his spine. Instinctively, he reached for support, gripping the rough bark of a nearby tree as he struggled to stand. The deer wasn't close—perhaps it had sensed some other danger.

Nam scanned his surroundings. His body still ached, exhaustion weighing him down. Trees stretched endlessly in all directions, the forest appearing peaceful—too peaceful.

"W-Where am I?!"

He stumbled onto a nearby rock, resting his trembling hands on his knees as he tried to recall what had happened before he got here.

"The mirror… Those strange memories… Larod, Luth, and Reina… The palace… The masked man, and… and?"

He pressed a hand to his chin, struggling to remember. But nothing else came to mind. He sighed, shaking his head. It didn't matter now. Pushing himself up, he started wandering through the forest—until he reached a cliff.

And that's when he saw it.

A burning city.

Nam's breath hitched. His eyes widened. His heart pounded violently against his ribs, each beat like a war drum. His throat went dry, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground. His vision blurred.

Terror. Helplessness.

"I-I… If I hadn't said that word… would none of this have happened?"

A hollow laugh escaped his lips.

"Haha… Hahahahahaha!"

Tears welled up in his eyes, his body trembling as if an invisible force had wrapped around him, refusing to let go. His exhaustion, his hunger, his thirst—he forgot them all. The sight before him was burned into his mind, a scar that would never fade.

Larod's temporary body wasn't an issue, but what about Luth? What about Reina? Could they be lost in this forest too?

Unlikely.

And his father? His sister? Were they still trapped under that spell? He knew nothing. The only certainty was the flames rising high, so fierce they could devour flesh in an instant.

Normally, the Kingdom of Asiria would send aid. But Nam's city was small—perhaps they didn't care, or perhaps they hadn't even heard the news yet.

There was nothing he could do.

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He turned his back on the burning city and walked away.

Where would he go? Another city? No, that was too risky. The forest was his best option. He knew nothing of this time period, but if it was the 18th century, then he would need permits to travel. That would only make things harder.

Survival was his priority now.

He thought back to a game he had played before—a world made of blocks. He had enjoyed it, not because it was like real life, but because of the freedom it offered.

Freedom…

Nam surveyed his surroundings again. The animals had disappeared. A relief, in a way. If he was going to survive here, he had to get along with them.

But that was nearly impossible for him.

His fear of animals stemmed from two events in his childhood.

The first happened when he was six. He had visited a town with his mother—a place with paved roads and single-story houses. His father had been busy, and his sister had refused to come.

The visit had gone smoothly. The return, however, had not.

That was when he saw the dog.

He didn't know why, but the dog had growled at him. Then barked. Then lunged.

Then it sank its teeth into his leg.

The second incident was almost the same. But this time, it wasn't just one animal—it was several. And for a six-year-old, that was more than enough to leave a scar.

Nam spent the entire day looking for a shelter but found nothing. The sounds of the forest weren't always beautiful—never forget that.

As night fell, he slumped beneath a tree. His stomach had been growling since morning, but he could last one more day.

The forest whispered in his ears. The howl of a wolf. The clash of antlers as two stags fought for dominance. A symphony of untamed nature.

Nam's gaze fell on a patch of mushrooms growing beside the tree. His lips, cracked from thirst, barely moved as he mumbled:

"Amanita… and what was it? Phyllo… Phalloides?"

He knew they were poisonous. Thanks to Acchi's obsession with mushrooms, he had learned more names than he ever cared to remember.

"So you were useful after all…"

His voice was weak, hoarse.

With nothing else to do, he allowed himself to drift into sleep.

As he did, some of the once-green leaves above him turned yellow.

He only managed to sleep for four hours. His body, worn and sluggish, fought to move, but he forced himself to his feet, using the tree for support.

He needed food.

Dragging himself through the forest, he searched for anything edible. That was when he found it—a boletus mushroom.

"B-Boletus edulis?"

His eyes widened. It was safe to eat—even used in modern cuisine. There weren't many, but it was enough.

As he reached for the mushroom, a small, white rabbit appeared.

Nam wasn't afraid of rabbits. They were weak.

The rabbit watched him, seemingly waiting to see if the mushroom was poisonous.

Without hesitation, Nam took a bite. It tasted awful raw, but it was food. The rabbit, convinced it was safe, hopped closer.

Just as it was about to take a bite—

Nam grabbed it by the neck.

He hesitated. His fingers trembled. Should he let go?

But then a thought crossed his mind.

"If I don't kill it… someone else will, won't they?"

Even so, he didn't loosen his grip.

He had no choice. If he wanted to survive, he had to kill. That was the cruelest law of nature.

Nam was no longer a person.

He was just another animal, struggling to stay alive.

The rabbit stopped moving.

Nam let it go.

First, he finished the mushroom. Then, he broke a branch from a tree and sharpened the tip with a stone.

Next, he gathered firewood.

Rubbing stones together, he tried to create a spark.

The first attempt failed. The second, too. And the third.

Again.

And again.

And again.

His hands burned red. Pain throbbed through his fingers.

But he didn't stop.

Finally—

A spark.

The fire crackled to life.

The rabbit's organs and bones had to be removed first. The process made him gag—he even vomited a few times—but he had to do it.

He skewered the rabbit on his makeshift spit, turning it over the flames. Blood still stained his hands and clothes.

"Disgusting."

The smell of blood and death clung to the air.

He could barely stomach it, but he endured.

Three hours passed. He added more wood to the fire, unwilling to let his meal be stolen by another predator.

Once it was cooked, he doused the flames with nearby stones and took a bite.

It tasted… bad.

The blood hadn't been cleaned properly.

He didn't finish it.

Moving away from the fire, he curled up beneath a tree and let sleep take him.

The first day of survival had passed.