Alex hit the Peppa clone again, bringing the club over his head and dashing it against the creature’s skull. Then again and again and again, until his shoulders ached with the weight of the broken branch. Splinters flew from the club’s head each time wood met bone, and blood trailed the arc of the broken club as it rose and fell.

It was a gory sight beneath him. And all around, too.

The first two Wild Boars he’d encountered after leaving the clearing had already dissipated in good order somewhere downhill. Those had been easy enough to deal with, as he’d found them one at a time. It was just a matter of repeating the same strategy he’d employed against Peppa, ducking around the trees and hitting them as they passed him by.

But then the four other boars of their little sounder found him together at the same time, and he could ill afford to spam fireballs after the previous fights. Two of those lay dead at his feet now, their blood soaking the undergrowth, bits of torn fur splattered around. The biting tang of singed hair filled his nose.

“One more for good measure,” Alex grunted, hefting the club up and driving it down. Only to stumble as the monster and its remains broke into intangible pieces and his blow met only air. “Shit!” He careened forward, heavy with momentum, feet skidding down the low hill before he stopped himself at the base of an elm.

He’d run up the hill after coming face to face with the four Wild Boars, as there was no way he’d be able to play the ducking game against that many Peppas. Two had managed to follow him up as he weaved against trees and bushes, and died for their trouble. He was proud enough of that, even if he had to resort to less than civilized methods for an aspiring wizard like himself after he missed one of his fireballs.

The fight had gotten physical when one of the boars head-butted him squarely in the stomach, dropping his HP to just above single digits. It was only luck the little bastard hadn’t been able to get a good running start, and it had paid for the blow with interest.

The two remaining boars were still out there, somewhere. He’d lost sight of them during the mad scramble uphill, but he knew the monsters wouldn’t be far behind.

So even with the first two down Alex still looked around warily, eyes searching for any movement. The canopy was as thick here as it had been near the clearing, casting dappled shadows on the gentle slope of the hill. Last season’s leaves covered the forest floor in a great bronze-red tapestry, crunching underfoot. He would hear the pigs coming before he saw them, even over his own heavy panting. Stealth wasn’t one of the Wild Boars’ greatest strengths.

As Alex heard and saw no sign of the monsters, he gladly took the moment of reprieve to catch his breath, slumping down on one of the elm’s protruding roots.

Things had gotten out of control too abruptly for him to make sense of anything. He hadn’t trekked through the forest for ten minutes before trouble found him again. Worst of all, he’d found no trail or any other sign of human activity. Surely whoever took him from Earth wouldn’t have dropped him in a world all by himself. What would be the point of that?

He sighed. No use worrying over the inevitable and the unchangeable.

More concerning, his health and mana were blinking red at his periphery. His current HP wouldn’t get him through another hit, and the MP was only enough for one more fireball and some change. He couldn’t miss another shot. And even if he did get it right, he had no assurances that he’d level up with that kill—there was no experience bar enumerating his progress, another flaw to this shitty game—and then he’d be left manaless against the final boar.

The sound of leaves crunching suddenly broke through his thoughts. He jumped to his feet, holding his makeshift club with both hands in front of him, only to grimace. It was more a stick than anything now after he broke it against the boars’ skulls. It wouldn’t do him much good in a fight.

His head swung from side to side, watching for any approaching monsters. At a glance, the wood around him looked deserted, undisturbed. He closed his eyes next, straining to hear anything. But only silence answered him, silence and his own heart thumping against his ear.

Then… There! Over the hill to his right, something scuttled through the growth, crunching through dead leaves. No. Not one something.

The boars had found him.

Alex didn’t even think. Cocking his hand back, he lobbed the stick that’d served him so well up and over the summit of the hill. May it do me proud as a diversion. Wood clacked against wood in that direction, and he swore the shuffling he’d heard paused for a moment.

He didn’t stay to make sure. He would be easy prey against the boars if they came barreling down the hill and he had his back against the (wall) tree. After a few moments of careful tip-toeing, just as he passed by a chest-high stand of thick leatherleaf, Alex discarded discretion and clambered down the slope in a rush.

The boars depended too much on smell, he’d noticed, as they always sniffed and snorted at the air when he would hide behind the trees. The stick would buy him a few seconds, but they’d find him eventually even if he moved silent as a shade.

Branches and vines nipped at his arms and legs as he ran. He slapped them away as best he could, all the while trying to keep his footing. His shoes had not been made for high speed frolicking in the woods, and they slipped and skidded on the wet earth, gliding on the slush and the moss-covered strips of ground. Most of the way down was a rare showing of controlled-falling more than anything.

He finally slid to a stop at a small rocky outcrop that was on his way, chancing a look over his shoulder. Nothing. No two-hundred pound pig pursuing him just yet. His heart beat frantically in his chest after the sudden sprint, his breath grated in his throat, loud and...

Wait. He could hear something else above his own breathlessness. No shuffling this time, but a tinkling, burbling sound.

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Water. Running water. And not that far.

A plan started forming in his head. The weakened, calcium-deficient skeleton of one, but it would give him options.

Brushing off twigs that had tangled to his jacket, Alex pushed himself off the rocks and started toward the stream at an easier pace. Following the stream would not only be faster going than the ups and downs of the hilly forest, it might even lead him to people.

Those would be the options, getting away or finding help. Except he wouldn’t trust his future to chance. Much less to some unknown people. The solution would be of his own making.

As he trotted, Alex rolled up his sleeves and brought up another fireball to his hand. The spell came easy to him now, the feel of his mana traveling across his body comforting. Except it also immediately cut into his remaining MP. It would be his last for at least several minutes until his mana replenished itself.

But he still had a few points to work with. And he needed to make it work.

Alex turned to the brilliant flames above his hand. He needed an edge with his magic, something different. He’d been content on fireballing his way through the monsters, but that wasn’t the only way to use it. Taming the flames had helped turn that lick of fire he’d first been able to make into a stable, ready-to-use spell capable of taking a Wild Boar down if he aimed it just right.

He just had to kick things up a notch one more time.

The babbling of water grew close the further he trekked, the land gradually flattening, until he finally came upon the stream. The trees came right to the edge of the knee-deep water, sharing space with mossy ground and smooth river stones. It was narrow enough that Alex might be able to make it across in two long steps if he found a dependable enough foothold in the middle to make the final jump.

It was a beautiful little spot, all in all, if you didn’t count the two Wild Boars stalking the waterside a stone throw’s away from him. Alex nearly gawked, his steps faltering. Had they double timed around the hill somehow, or had the shuffling he’d heard been other monsters?

The boars lifted their snouts from the ground and sniffed the air for a moment, before whipping around to face him. Their red eyes glinted from between coarse brown fur, hungry.

There was no time for consideration. Nor for selecting a good midway stone. With the fireball still in his hand, he dashed toward the water’s edge, planted a foot on the jutting root of a tree, and jumped.

By his own calculations, Alex expected a nice, cold bath to welcome him upon descent. It would be better than the immediate fate of being run down by a pair of pigs, but the wetness afterward would make it just barely. Except he soared over the stream, jumping higher and farther than ever before, and managed to clear the water by a finger’s width.

He landed in a stumble that turned into an awkward roll through the slushy shore, holding one hand out above him to keep the fireball in place. Breathless, damp leaves clinging all over his jeans and jacket, Alex turned to look to the other side. Only to witness the first boar splash into the water, closely followed by the second.

“Shit,” he muttered. The jump had only bought him a few seconds, but here he would have the advantage of terrain too. The boars would be particularly vulnerable as they waded ashore.

As much as he wanted to innovate in the magical department, he needed quick results, so he stuck to what he knew. The fireball writhed as he turned all his attention to it, pushing his will into shrinking it even further. Expectedly, it fought back, lashing out like a child throwing a fit.

Alex could have kept the tug war going for as long as his mind held up, and might’ve even won it eventually, but the boars proved to be good swimmers. He glanced up, and winced. They were nearly halfway across already.

Instead of stubbornly keeping up with the pressure, he decided to add another layer to the struggle. He reached inward, pulling at the scraps of mana he still had available, and drained them out. Not into the fireball itself, but into the effort of compressing it.

The effect was immediate. The fireball spun in place, faster and faster, sinking inside itself. It was a whirlpool of fire with no bottom, nowhere for all that blazing energy to escape.

Alex felt his hold on it slipping. The thing couldn’t be contained for long. Needle-thin tendrils of fire flashed from the marble-sized center like lightning, only to be sucked back in then spat back out again in the same moment.

When Alex looked back up, the first boar had made landing, water running down its dark fur. The second was a step behind it, snuffling angrily. It didn’t matter. Alex didn’t wait for them to get a running start and charge. He lunged at the monsters, hand outstretched, and let the fire go.

Unlike the normal fireball, this spell didn’t fly. It couldn’t hold itself together without its caster reining it in. Alex had hardly pulled his hand back to cover his face when the world ruptured. Light suddenly blinded him, and a thundering roar tore him from the ground, flung him into the forest, its breath so hot the skin of his exposed arms seared and peeled, so loud his eardrums shattered.

The explosion carried him until he crashed through a low bough and fell, face smashing against the ground with a wet crack. In that moment all he knew was agony. He couldn’t breathe. He was choking, drowning in pain and mud. It felt like all the nerves in his body had been set ablaze.

Then it was all gone in the span of a heartbeat, all the pain and the burns, washed away in a wave of instant relief. Sound returned to him with a Ping! as if his ears had never burst.

He could suddenly hear the burble of the stream nearby again, the trees still stirring with the backwind from his spell. Gingerly, Alex turned onto his back to draw in a breath, gagged, flopped back on his side and spat out a clump of mushy leaves. Then he could finally breathe sweet, sweet air.

A dull numbness had spread across his limbs, so Alex just lay there for a moment, sprawled down on the forest floor, listening to the humming of insects trying to lull him. The Level up! note beckoned from his status page, but he ignored it. It had already done more than enough healing him up. He’d rather watch the green leaves dance to the wind up on their branches, moving one way then back again. One way then back again.

He let out a dry chuckle. “What a day,” he said to himself.

“And what kind of day would that be, my friend?”

Alex bolted upright, whipping around to meet the voice. There, close enough to shake his hands if he leaned forward, a tall man stood amongst the trees. Alex could have missed him had he not spoken. The man blended almost seamlessly with the surrounding forest, a dark cloak covering all but his booted feet. His face was shadowed by the cowl of his cloak, and a hunter’s bow idly dangled from his hands.

I didn’t even hear him walking up, Alex thought.

“Well?” the man said.

Staring at him suspiciously for a moment longer, Alex opened his mouth. “Boars,” he said. “I’ve been chasing a few Wild Boars for a while now. Or being chased, I suppose. That and a Killer Sloth earlier.” Not the whole truth, but he wasn’t about to speak of world hopping with the man.

“Chasing, huh?” There was an odd inflection to the word that Alex couldn’t quite get.

The man slowly reached up with one hand and pulled back the hood of his cloak. Only to reveal a young pale face riddled with acne-scars, a shock of fiery red hair, and a playful smile pulling at his lips.

Alex’s eyes widened. The boy couldn’t be any older than eighteen.

“Sorry friend,” he said, the rough voice replaced by a jovial one. “Always wanted to play the whole mysterious cloaked man to someone. Name’s Daven, by the way. You are?”