The city walls of Insomnia loomed behind them as Sirius followed his uncle through the gates. For the first time since awakening in this world, he was leaving the safety of the barrier. Beyond stretched the open fields of Leide, dry and rocky beneath the morning sun.
The great gates themselves were lined with wards, their runes glowing faintly as Cor passed. They pulsed once, like a heartbeat, before dimming again, leaving behind the unfiltered air of the wilds.
Sirius clutched the hilt of the wooden sword Cor had given him. It wasn't much against the creatures that roamed the world, but it was his. His small feet crunched over the dirt path, his red eyes darting from shadow to shadow.
"Stay close," Cor said, his voice calm but sharp. "This isn't the yard. Out here, mistakes get you killed."
Sirius nodded quickly. "Yes, Uncle."
The air smelled different outside the barrier—wilder, harsher. Dust carried on the breeze, mingled with the faint scent of monsters. Sirius' heart pounded. In the game, this was just another starting zone, where players farmed early monsters for loot and experience. Here, it was real.
---
Their first encounter came quickly.
A pack of sabertusks prowled among the rocks, their feline bodies sleek and muscled, their curved tusks glinting in the sun. A faint shimmer of aether clung to their fangs, making them gleam unnaturally. They hissed as Cor and Sirius approached, eyes gleaming with hunger.
Sirius' grip tightened on his sword.
"Remember your stance," Cor said, drawing his katana in one smooth motion. "Breathe steady. Don't freeze."
The sabertusks lunged.
Cor moved like lightning, his blade cutting through the air with precise strikes. One beast fell before it even reached them, its tusks snapping as it hit the dirt. The others circled, wary.
"Your turn," Cor said without looking back.
Sirius froze for a heartbeat. My turn? But the sabertusk didn't wait. It lunged at him, fangs bared.
He raised his wooden sword and swung with all his might. The blade cracked against the beast's skull. The impact jarred his arms, nearly tearing the weapon from his grip, but the creature stumbled back with a hiss. Sirius gasped, then struck again, this time lower. The blow landed awkwardly on its shoulder, but it was enough to knock it sideways.
Cor's voice cut through the chaos. "Finish it!"
Sirius grit his teeth and swung once more. The wooden blade slammed into the sabertusk's neck, and the beast collapsed, twitching before going still.
For a moment, silence. Then Sirius staggered back, chest heaving, arms trembling.
Cor dispatched the last of the beasts in a single stroke, then turned to him. His expression was unreadable. "You didn't freeze. That's more than most recruits."
Sirius swallowed hard and nodded. "I… I did it."
"You survived," Cor corrected. "But survival isn't enough. You'll learn to kill cleaner. Faster. That's what keeps you alive longer."
Sirius bent down, staring at the beast he had struck down. Its body was real—warm, heavy, blood seeping into the dirt. Not pixels. Not a respawn timer. His stomach twisted. But then, something flickered at the edge of his mind.
Loot acquired.
No words appeared before his eyes, no glowing window. Just a faint pulse, like a whisper in the back of his skull. When he reached out to touch the creature, he felt something click inside him, and he knew.
Sabertusk Fang (Material) – stored.
He gasped softly. The system. It was real, working silently in the background. Drops. Loot. Materials. Not visible now, but tucked away in a quiet corner of his mind, as if faint shelves of light had opened to hold them.
Cor raised a brow. "What is it?"
"Nothing," Sirius said quickly, shaking his head. "I'm fine."
Cor studied him for a long moment, then turned away. "Good. Because we're not done."
---
The next hunt came deeper in the rocky plains, where a nest of scorpions scuttled among the stones. Their stingers arched high, dripping with venom that shimmered faintly with toxic light. Sirius' heart raced as they skittered closer, their legs scraping the dirt.
"Stay low," Cor ordered. "Watch their tails. Strike when they raise to strike you."
Sirius nodded, gripping his sword tighter. The first scorpion lunged, its tail whipping down. Sirius sidestepped, barely, the stinger scraping his tunic. He swung clumsily, cracking his blade against its carapace. The sound rattled his teeth.
"Too shallow," Cor barked. "Again!"
Another scorpion lunged. Sirius rolled clumsily to the side, just as Zangan had taught him. Pain sparked along his shoulder from the rough landing, but he rose quickly and struck. This time, his blade hit softer flesh near the joint of its leg. The creature screeched, stumbling. Sirius followed through, slamming his sword down on its head until it stopped moving.
The rest fell quickly under Cor's blade, his strikes precise, efficient. When it was done, Sirius leaned on his sword, gasping. His arms shook, his legs felt like jelly, but he was still standing.
"Better," Cor said simply, though his tone carried the faintest edge of approval.
Sirius managed a small smile. Better.
---
By the time they returned to Insomnia, the sun was dipping low. Sirius collapsed into bed that night, every muscle aching. But when his eyes closed, the system stirred.
Experience gained. Pending update.
Materials stored: Sabertusk Fangs x3, Scorpion Stingers x4.
The words weren't written, not truly. They flickered in his mind, silent, like echoes only he could hear. He felt them sink into him, glowing faintly beneath his skin. The quiet shelves in his mind filled with new shapes, waiting.
When he woke the next morning, the fatigue had dulled. His bruises had faded. And beneath it all was a steady hum, as though something deep inside had been kindled.
He sat up, reaching for his notebook. His pencil scratched across the page.
Notes – First Hunts
Sabertusks: fast, tusks dangerous. Fangs hold faint aether. Wooden sword clumsy but worked.
Scorpions: stingers deadly. Weak at joints. Rolling helped.
Uncle Cor: harsh, but right. "Survive" first, "kill cleaner" later.
System: drops stored → felt them when resting. Real. Not just game.
He paused, then added beneath, in uneven letters:
First step taken. More to come. I will hunt. I will grow.
Closing the notebook, Sirius tucked it back beneath his pillow. His arms still ached, but his heart was steady. He had stepped beyond the barrier, faced monsters, survived.
It wasn't much. But it was a beginning.
And every beginning, he knew, mattered.