The faint light filtering through the dense forest canopy of the fifth floor created an oppressive atmosphere, but Ahri paid it little mind. Her thoughts raced, her body tense as she adjusted the strap of her sword scabbard. She was no stranger to this floor; she had walked these woods before, during her brief time with Jae-Hyun. Back then, the monsters here had been manageable—light-yellow names that posed little threat to either of them. But now, as she ventured deeper alone, things felt… different.

Her boots crunched softly against the ground as she stepped into a clearing. Something felt off. The usual ambient sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves had fallen into a suffocating silence. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Her mind wandered briefly to Jae-Hyun. He had always seemed so sure, so confident, even in the face of overwhelming odds. Could she ever become someone like that? Could she ever stand by his side without being a burden?

Something’s wrong.

Instinctively, she reached for the hilt of her sword. The tension in the air thickened, and then, from the shadows of the trees, a hulking beast emerged. Its gnarled, blackened hide glistened in the faint light, and its piercing, glowing orange eyes locked onto her. Jagged horns jutted from its head, and its claws dug into the ground with a sickening scrape as it advanced.

Gorehorn Ravager

The name appeared in her vision, its color an ominous orange. Ahri’s heart sank. In her limited experience, she’d learned that the color of a name wasn’t just a cosmetic feature—it was a warning. And orange meant danger.

She swallowed hard, gripping the hilt tightly. “Why is something like you here?” she muttered, her voice shaky but laced with determination. Monsters on this floor weren’t supposed to be this strong. It didn’t make sense.

The Ravager let out a guttural roar, its claws digging into the ground as it charged. Ahri barely had time to react, diving to the side as the beast’s massive frame crashed into the spot she’d been standing. Dirt and debris exploded into the air, and she rolled to her feet, her left hand already glowing faintly with mana.

Focus, Ahri. You’ve trained for this.

With a quick gesture, she unleashed a small burst of mana-infused energy from her palm, aiming for the Ravager’s side. The energy struck true, but the beast barely flinched, its thick hide absorbing most of the impact. Ahri cursed under her breath, drawing her sword and settling into a defensive stance.

The Ravager circled her, its movements deliberate. It didn’t just charge recklessly; it feinted, testing her reactions, forcing her to stay on edge. When she dodged one swipe, its tail lashed out like a whip, nearly catching her mid-step. Its intelligence was unnerving, as if it were playing with her, probing her weaknesses.

“Are you kidding me?” she muttered, her frustration mounting. She sidestepped another swipe of its claws, the sheer force of the attack sending a gust of wind that stung her cheeks.

Ahri leapt back, her mind racing. Her blade wasn’t cutting deep enough, and her mana reserves were too limited to rely heavily on spells. She needed to combine her skills. Holding her sword aloft, she channeled a burst of mana into the blade, its edge shimmering with a faint, ethereal glow. With a swift slash, she sent an arc of energy flying toward the beast’s legs. The Ravager dodged partially, but the attack nicked its knee, causing it to stumble slightly.

The beast roared again, lunging forward. This time, its claws grazed her arm, tearing through the sleeve of her tunic and leaving a shallow but stinging wound. Ahri hissed in pain, stumbling backward and nearly losing her footing.

I can’t keep this up.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she put distance between herself and the monster. The forest around her seemed to close in, the once-familiar terrain now feeling hostile and alien. She tightened her grip on her sword, the faint glow of mana flickering around her hands as she prepared another spell.

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This wasn’t like before. Before, she’d had Jae-Hyun—his overwhelming presence, his unshakable confidence. Now, she was alone. She’d been reset, stripped of everything she once knew, and thrust into a world where survival wasn’t just a challenge—it was an expectation.

“Why am I even doing this?” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. Doubt crept into her mind, insidious and suffocating. Every mistake, every misstep, felt magnified. She could almost hear Jae-Hyun’s voice, urging her to push forward. But his absence only made her feel more lost.

The Ravager charged again, and Ahri barely managed to dodge, the beast’s claws tearing through the trunk of a tree behind her. She stumbled, falling to one knee as the ground beneath her shook from the force of the attack.

Her grip on her sword tightened as tears of frustration pricked at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. But even as the words left her lips, a spark of defiance flickered within her. She couldn’t give up. Not here. Not now.

Taking a deep breath, Ahri forced herself to focus. She had to think. The Ravager was strong, but it wasn’t invincible. There had to be a way.

Aim for the legs. Slow it down.

With renewed determination, she surged forward, channeling mana into her blade. The sword glowed brighter as she slashed at the beast’s knee, the infused energy amplifying the strike. The blow landed with a crack, forcing the Ravager to stagger as it let out a roar of pain.

Ahri seized the moment, summoning a glyph beneath her feet that enhanced her agility. She darted around the beast, landing precise strikes on its weakened joint. The Ravager howled, its movements becoming more erratic as it struggled to maintain its balance.

But it wasn’t enough.

The beast lunged, and this time, its claws caught her leg, dragging her to the ground. Pain exploded through her as she cried out, kicking desperately to free herself. Her boot connected with its snout, forcing it to release her, but the damage was done. Blood seeped from the gashes on her leg, and her vision blurred as she struggled to stand.

“Get up,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “Get up, Ahri. You’re not done yet.”

Drawing on sheer willpower, she forced herself to her feet. Her mana reserves were nearly depleted, but she refused to give in. Not here. Not to this.

The Ravager circled her, its orange eyes blazing with fury. It lunged again, and this time, Ahri sidestepped, channeling the last of her mana into a spell. The energy surged through her blade as she struck at its exposed neck. The Ravager let out a choked roar, its movements growing sluggish as blood poured from the wound.

Seizing the opportunity, Ahri sprinted forward, gripping her sword with both hands. With a fierce cry, she drove the blade into the beast’s neck, twisting it with all her strength. The Ravager thrashed violently, nearly throwing her off, but she held on, driving the blade deeper until the beast collapsed beneath her.

Ahri rolled off its lifeless body, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Pain radiated through every part of her, but she couldn’t help the small, shaky laugh that escaped her lips.

“I did it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I actually did it.”

A soft chime echoed in her ears, breaking the stillness.

System Notification: Level up! Level up!

But the victory felt hollow. As she lay there, staring up at the canopy above, the doubts crept back in. She’d barely survived. Every moment of that fight had been a struggle, a reminder of how far she still had to go.

“Is this really me now?” she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. “Reset, relearning everything from scratch… barely scraping by.”

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe deeply. Her body ached, her mana was gone, and her supplies were nearly depleted. But she was alive. And as long as she was alive, she could keep moving forward.

She thought of Jae-Hyun again, of how strong he’d become. Somewhere out there, he was fighting his own battles. If she couldn’t keep up, how could she ever hope to stand by his side again?

“I have to get stronger,” she said softly, the words a promise to herself. “I can’t stay like this.”

The oppressive silence of the forest seemed to lift slightly as she adjusted the strap of her scabbard. The faint rustling of leaves in the distance reminded her that the world was still moving, and so should she. She pushed herself to her feet, her legs wobbling as she leaned against a tree for support. Every step forward felt heavier than the last, but she refused to stay down.

The fight had nearly broken her. But it hadn’t. And that was enough. For now.