The world opened up before me in a way I had never seen before.
Gone were the dark trees of the jungle, the thick roots like traps underfoot, and the haunting calls of unseen beasts. Now, as Kael and I stepped out onto the fields, I felt as though I had entered a painting — rolling plains stretched endlessly, covered in tall, golden grass swaying gently in the breeze. The sky was bright blue, dotted with fluffy clouds drifting lazily, and for the first time since I arrived in this world, I felt something close to peace.
Of course, Kael didn't let me enjoy it for too long.
He walked a few steps ahead, daggers strapped tight at his sides, scanning the fields like a hawk. His eyes seemed restless even in this calm scenery, as if danger could leap out at any moment.
I jogged to catch up, "Kael, isn't it… safe here?"
He glanced over his shoulder. "Safe? No such place."
That answer sent a chill down my back.
Still, I couldn't help but admire the beauty around me. The fields weren't empty; tiny creatures hopped through the grass — rabbit-like beings with small, glowing antlers. Birds with jewel-colored wings zipped across the sky, their feathers catching sunlight like prisms. Some looked harmless, almost cute. But Kael's hand was always close to his weapon.
We had been walking for perhaps an hour when it happened.
A soft rustle came from the tall grass on my left. I stopped. My body stiffened. The memory of that serpent monster from the night before came rushing back, and fear clawed at my throat.
"Kael…" I whispered.
Before he could respond, something leaped out from the grass.
I nearly screamed — but stopped mid-breath when I saw what it was.
The creature was… round. Comically round. About the size of a soccer ball, with stubby little legs and huge, innocent eyes that shimmered like liquid gold. Its fur was a pale pink, and it had a tiny pair of wings on its back that looked far too small to lift it.
I blinked. "…A… plush toy?"
The thing wobbled closer, making a chirping sound that was strangely adorable.
Kael, however, stiffened. "Stay back, Auren. That's a Luffbeast. Rank F."
"F? As in… low?" I asked.
"Low doesn't mean weak," Kael replied sharply. "Even rabbits bite when cornered. These things attack in packs. If you see one…" His eyes darted to the grass. "…there are always more."
As if on cue, three more popped out of the grass. All wobbling. All chirping. All adorable.
My fear began to mix with something else — a spark of… curiosity.
I tightened my fists. I'd been relying on Kael's protection since arriving here. But a thought nagged at me: If I always hide, will I ever survive in this world?
I reached down, picked up a sharp stick from the ground, and gripped it like a spear. My heart pounded.
"Kael," I said, forcing my voice not to shake, "let me try."
He frowned. "Try? You don't even—"
Before he could stop me, I stepped forward toward the nearest Luffbeast. Its eyes widened at me, chirping louder, almost like laughter.
Then, without warning, the tiny beast charged.
It was fast — much faster than I expected. A blur of pink fur shot toward me, and instinct screamed in my bones. I thrust the stick forward.
Thunk!
The Luffbeast yelped as the stick jabbed its side, and it tumbled across the ground. My arms shook from the impact, but… I had hit it. I had actually hit it!
The others hissed, their round bodies glowing faintly. I stepped back, panic flaring again. But Kael whistled sharply, and the three scattered back into the tall grass, leaving the injured one wriggling on the dirt.
Kael strode over, daggers drawn. "Not bad. But don't lower your guard—"
Suddenly, the creature shimmered… and vanished.
I blinked. "Wha— Where'd it go?"
Kael crouched, inspecting the ground. "It didn't vanish. It dropped something."
There, lying where the creature had been, was an egg.
It was unlike any egg I had ever seen before. About the size of a coconut, smooth and glossy, with faint glowing veins running along its shell. It pulsed like it was alive — like a heartbeat.
I crouched down, staring at it. "It… left this behind?"
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Strange. Luffbeasts don't leave eggs when slain. They dissolve back into ether, like most monsters. This… isn't normal."
My hands trembled as I touched the egg. The surface was warm, almost too warm, and a faint hum vibrated through my fingertips.
"What is it?" I whispered.
Kael shook his head. "I don't know. I've never seen one like this." He stood, scanning the field with unease. "Keep it hidden. Whatever it is, it's rare. And rare things invite trouble."
I nodded quickly, wrapping the egg in my tattered shirt before slipping it into my pack. Yet I couldn't stop staring at it, the strange glow seeping faintly through the cloth.
After that fight, something inside me shifted. I wasn't just surviving anymore — I had fought, even if clumsily, and the thrill of it lit a fire in my chest.
The rest of our journey through the fields was… strange.
Kael fought off another group of monsters — some foxlike beasts with tails of fire — but I found myself laughing nervously instead of screaming in terror. My fear was still there, but it wasn't paralyzing anymore.
At one point, we stumbled upon a herd of tall, deer-like creatures with translucent bodies. Their bones and glowing cores were visible through their skin, like glass statues. They scattered gracefully when Kael approached, leaving sparkling trails of light behind them.
I couldn't help but smile. "This world is terrifying… but beautiful too."
Kael glanced at me, then back at the horizon. "Don't get too attached. Beauty hides teeth."
But I noticed the faintest curl at the corner of his lips. He was glad I wasn't trembling anymore.
As the sun dipped low, painting the fields orange and gold, we found a small rise to rest on. Kael built a small fire, while I carefully placed the mysterious egg beside me. Its glow pulsed softly in the dark, almost soothing.
I couldn't explain it, but I felt connected to it — like it was… mine.
"Kael," I said softly, "do you think… maybe this is a gift? From the world, or fate, or whatever?"
Kael snorted. "Fate doesn't give gifts. Only burdens. But… maybe sometimes a burden becomes useful."
I hugged the egg close, staring into its glow until my eyelids grew heavy. For the first time since my arrival, I didn't fall asleep afraid.
That night, under the stars, with the mysterious egg by my side, I felt a spark of something I hadn't since leaving my old life behind — hope.