Viktor leaned against a tree, his breath shallow. His hands trembled—not from fear, not from excitement, but from sheer exhaustion. He had survived… for now.
The forest around him was dense, the towering trees twisting together to form a near-impenetrable canopy.
Shadows stretched across the uneven ground, shifting with the faint rustle of wind through the branches. Every direction looked the same—dark, silent, unknown.
He scanned his surroundings, eyes sharp, ears straining for anything out of place. The wolves wouldn't be able to track him easily now, at least he was safe for a while.
If anything, the silence made him uneasy.
Then, a sound.
Chhk… chhk…
A rustling. Low, uneven, like something shifting through the underbrush. Viktor's fingers tightened around the narrow chisel in his grip. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was all he had.
Then—
"Ghhk-ghhk… kehh-kehh-kehh…"
Low and ragged, like something with a throat too dry to properly breathe, yet still forcing out amusement. The sound twisted, warped, breaking into uneven chuckles.
"Ghhk-ghhk… kehh-kehh-kehh… keh-kehh… keh!"
Viktor's brow furrowed. The laughter was distant, but it wasn't just one voice. There were several.
His pulse quickened, but then another realization struck him—his exhaustion was worse than he thought. A quick glance at his status screen confirmed it.
[Mana: 4/30]
His breath hitched. The Totem's effect had less than eight minutes left before it deactivated, and his mana reserves were dangerously low. Too low.
Boost had helped him escape—enhancing his speed, sharpening his reflexes—but every activation pulled at something deep within him, like threads unraveling from his core. He had felt it drawing from his chest, surging into his legs and veins, making his movements sharper, lighter.
But when his mana pool had dropped to 3/30, the strain hit him like a hammer. A dull, creeping ache throbbed at the base of his skull, his vision momentarily blurring. His legs had faltered, his balance shifting precariously.
It had been a warning.
So he had forced himself to stop after one final use. One more push, one more minute sprint before his body had demanded relief.
And now? He had barely caught his breath, but something else is already near.
The laughter continued—erratic, unnatural.
Viktor furrowed his brows and closed his eyes, drawing in a slow, measured breath to steady himself.
From the moment he was thrown into this place, he had made countless mistakes.
But could anyone blame him? One moment, he was living his life—the next, he was forced into a brutal game of survival, where magic, beasts, and fantasy-like bullshit were all too real.
He had been too focused on his status screen, too lost in overanalyzing things like a fool. And because of that, he let himself get surrounded.
He had hesitated when fighting the wolf pup—just for a moment—but hesitation could get him killed. Worse, he had turned his back and run from the larger wolves.
What if they had been faster? He would have been nothing more than an easy target.
But instead of drowning in regret and frustration, he would learn from it.
Every mistake, every misstep—it would be carved into his memory, never to be repeated.
He would adapt. He would survive.
"Ghhk-ghhk… kehh-kehh-Keh!"
Viktor opened his gray, which burning with cold resolve, as the distant sound of laughter remained where it is.
He opened his stats and used the 2 undistributed points and put it all into his Spirit.
...
[You have Distributed 2 stats to Spirit]
...
[Status] : —
Name : Viktor
Race : [Human — Lv.1]
Innate : [ Branded By Fire and Steel ]
Innate Rank : [ 1st Stage ]
...
[Achievements] : —
Currency (AP) : 10
...
[Attribute(s)] : —
Health 140/140
Stamina 21/70
Mana 16/40 → 10 +
Strength: 12
Agility: 9
Constitution: 14
Spirit : 6 → 8 +
Undistributed stats : 2 → 0
...
Innate Skill(s) : —
[Man of Tempered Steel (A)]
Acquired Skill(s) : —
[Boost (F)]
Infused Skill(s) : —
[Wolf Repulsion (E)]
...
Viktor felt A sharp, sudden pulse ran through him as his Spirit increased.
His breath steadied, the weight in his limbs less suffocating, but exhaustion still gnawed at the edges of his awareness. It wasn't a cure—just a thin layer of clarity over a deep well of fatigue. Still, it was enough.
His Mana increased as well.
He stood up with a minor difficulty and looked at the direction where the sickening laughter came from.
"Guess I don't have a choice," he muttered, exhaling slowly. "Let's see what kind of nightmare this is."
...
Elsewhere, just beyond Viktor's sight.
Deep in the underbrush, where twisted roots coiled like grasping fingers, a group of four small green creatures huddled in a loose circle.
Goblins.
Their jagged teeth gleamed as they cackled, shoving and jostling one another in excitement.
Their yellowed eyes glowed in the dim light, their crooked grins widening as the tiny creature in their grasp struggled.
Hoonk!
In the center of their little game, a piglet squealed.
Its tiny hooves scraped against the dirt, but each time it tried to bolt, a gnarled hand snatched at its leg, with rough knifes, dragging it back into the cruel game.
"Keh-kehh-kehh…"
The goblins laughed and played their game, unaware that just beyond the bushes, surrounded by towering trees, a pair of cold, gray eyes watched them intently.
The figure, lean and hardened, crouched at the edge of the clearing. His skin, rough and pale. Short, black hair fell messily across his brow, sticking damp against his forehead from exhaustion.
A small necklace hung around his neck, a pendant made from the fang of a large wolf. The fang was engraved with red symbols, resembling blood, and the necklace was strung on a strong leather cord.
He was dressed in simple, worn-out clothing—dark, practical tunics and pants, made for ease of movement rather than comfort, and sturdy boots that gave him a solid grip on the uneven ground beneath him.
His clothing, frayed at the edges, bore the signs of long days spent in the wilderness.
His body, though fatigued, held itself like a coiled spring, every muscle taut and ready. His hands, scarred from the forge, gripped a narrow chisel—a poor weapon, but one he had used well enough in the past. The blade glinted faintly in the dusked sky.
The goblins, oblivious to his presence, continued their cruel play, unaware that a pair of gray eyes—focused—scanned the scene, taking in every detail.
The figure's eyes narrowed, his lips tightening into a thin line. He inhaled slowly, his breath steadying, then exhaled with a soft, controlled hiss. He rose from his crouch, careful to make no sound.
With a quick and quiet motion, he reached down and snatched a small stone from the ground, holding it in his hand as he measured the distance, then tossed it into the dense brush behind them.
The sound was soft, but enough to alert the goblins, heads snapping toward the noise.
The figure moved in an instant, closing the distance between himself and the nearest goblin. His narrow chisel flashed in the dim light, cutting across the goblin's side.
"Kuaagh!!"
The goblin howled, a deep gash opening along its ribs. It staggered back, blood pouring from the wound, falling to the ground disabled.
Before the others could react, the figure grabbed a swiftly crude knife from the fallen goblin and drove it into the second goblin's eye, the knife sink into the soft tissue of its brain. his stomach turning as it sank deep into it.
The goblin collapsed without a sound. The trembling hand tightened around the knife, the revulsion lingering, but it was pushed aside, focus shifting to the next threat.
The remaining two goblins hissed, knives raised. The figure took the second knife in his left hand, the chisel in his right.
Clang!
The third goblin lunged. The figure blocked with his chisel, the knives clashing in a sharp, ringing noise. He swiftly slashed at the goblin's face, creating a shallow gash that made it screech in agony.
"Ku-gaagh!!"
The last goblin screamed in fury, its attack faster than expected. The figure barely managed to parry the blow with his chisel, the goblin's crude knife cracking under the force.
Its movements were faster than the figure had anticipated. The human figure barely managed to block its attack with the chisel, the force of the strikes causing the crude goblin knife to crack under the pressure.
For a moment, the figure's breath caught, the goblin's speed testing his limits. But then, a strange wind stirred. In that moment, his speed increased, The goblin's pace was matched.
The goblin's knife cracked against the figure's steel chisel, producing a high-pitched squeal as it broke. Stunned, the goblin stood froze for a moment, its weapon useless.
Before the creature could comprehend its misfortune, the figure drove the crude knife through its skull, killing it instantly. The goblin's body collapsed with a thud, its lifeless eyes staring at the clearing.
Slash!
The third goblin, still reeling from the wound to its face, attacked from behind. It slashed across the figure's back, sending a flare of pain through his body. But the figure's speed surged once more, his body moving on instinct.
The goblin's ambush failed. Within seconds, it was dead, felled by a swift strike to its skull.
The last goblin crumpled, its lifeless body hitting the ground with a dull thud. Silence fell over the muddy clearing, interrupted only by the frantic squeals of the piglet and the muffled groans of the first goblin, still struggling on the ground.
The figure's breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle. His body trembled with exhaustion as he collapsed to his knees, his weapon-clad hands shaking from the effort.
The figure remained on his knees for a moment, eyes unfocused, the weight of the fight crashing down on him. His chest heaved with each breath, the ache in his limbs barely registering as he fought to steady himself.
The piglet's cries rang in his ears as the figure slowly looked up, his gaze scanning the bloody clearing. The tension in his shoulders eased, but the fight was far from over.
So he moved to bring it to an end.
...….
UPCOMING NEXT - CHAPTER 6 - Evander Langley
...….
GLOSSARY -:-