The sound of flesh parting was sickeningly wet—a meaty squelch that Daniel Cross would remember for the rest of his life.
That sharp wooden branch, wreathed in impossible golden light, struck the charging lion's eye without the slightest deviation. There was no resistance, no heroic struggle from the beast. The makeshift spear simply punched through like the eye socket was made of wet paper, continuing its devastating trajectory deeper and deeper into the creature's skull.
It didn't stop until the entire length of the branch had disappeared into the lion's head, the pointed end erupting from the back of its skull in a spray of blood and bone fragments.
Just like that, the massive predator lost its life.
The lion's body went rigid mid-charge, its momentum carrying it forward for several more steps before physics and death finally claimed it. With a thunderous crash that shook the ground beneath Daniel Cross's feet, the elephant-sized corpse collapsed onto the dirt path.
BOOM.
Dust billowed up in a massive cloud, obscuring the fallen beast for several heartbeats. The impact was so forceful that Daniel Cross felt the vibration travel up through his legs, rattling his teeth. Small stones and debris scattered in all directions from the point of impact.
The forest fell silent once more. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Then, just as Daniel Cross's mind was beginning to process what he'd done—I just killed that thing, holy shit, I actually killed it—a voice spoke directly into his mind.
[Congratulations to the Host for awakening the Template System]
Daniel Cross's eyes went wide. The voice was clear, crisp, and distinctly artificial—like a computer narrator from a video game, but somehow more present. It echoed inside his skull in a way that made his teeth ache.
What the—?
[Extracting template for you]
"Template?" Daniel Cross whispered, his voice hoarse from exertion and shock. "What template?"
The voice didn't answer his question. Instead, it continued with mechanical efficiency:
[Congratulations to the Host for obtaining the Dan Heng • Imbibitor Lunae template from Honkai: Star Rail]
Daniel Cross's breath caught in his throat. That name—Imbibitor Lunae. He knew it. Not well, since he'd only started playing the game recently, but he'd seen references to it online. The evolved form of Dan Heng, the character he'd been compared to. The High Elder of the Vidyadhara, wielder of the Azure Dragon powers.
No way. No fucking way.
[Current template progress: One percent]
[Obtained: Cloud Knight Basic Spear Technique]
[Obtained: No-Incantation Magic Technique]
The moment the system finished speaking, Daniel Cross felt something shift inside his mind. It was like someone had uploaded files directly into his brain—not painfully, but distinctly foreign. Knowledge bloomed in his consciousness, settling into place as if it had always been there.
Spear forms. Stances. Footwork. Breathing techniques. The entire foundational curriculum of the Cloud Knights' spear training suddenly existed in his memory, as familiar as his own name.
[When the progress reaches one hundred percent, you will become the one and only High Elder Dan Heng • Imbibitor Lunae of this world]
Then the voice fell silent, leaving Daniel Cross alone with his racing thoughts and the corpse of the monster he'd just killed.
The adrenaline that had been sustaining him through the encounter finally crashed. It was like someone had cut his puppet strings—his legs simply gave out beneath him. Daniel Cross collapsed onto the ground, his body suddenly remembering that it was exhausted, starving, and had just been through the most traumatic experience of either of his lives.
Both lives, he thought with a slightly hysterical edge to his internal voice. Because I died and came back. That's apparently a thing that happened.
His hands were shaking. His entire body was shaking, actually, tremors running through his muscles as the fight-or-flight chemicals evacuated his system all at once. The lack of food since arriving in this world, combined with zero rest and the massive energy expenditure from whatever that golden power had been, left him feeling hollowed out.
Dizzy. Everything was spinning.
There was a constant ringing in his ears, high-pitched and annoying, like tinnitus cranked up to eleven. His vision swam, dark spots creeping in from the edges.
"I'm so tired..." Daniel Cross gasped for air, his chest heaving. Each breath felt like dragging sandpaper through his lungs. "So... damn... tired..."
He tried to process what the system voice had told him. Tried to understand what "template progress" meant, what those skills were, what any of it meant for his survival in this insane world full of giant murder-beasts.
But his exhausted brain refused to cooperate. The thoughts kept slipping away like water through his fingers, replaced by a bone-deep weariness that made thinking feel like trying to swim through molasses.
Daniel Cross sat where he'd fallen, his back against a tree trunk, and tried to recover his strength through sheer force of will. He focused on his breathing, on the sensation of solid ground beneath him, on anything that might anchor him to consciousness.
Just need a minute. Just a few minutes to catch my breath, and then I can figure out what the hell is happening.
But after ten minutes of sitting there, forcing oxygen into his lungs and trying to stop the world from spinning, a new wave of exhaustion washed over his mind. This one was different—heavier, more insistent. Like his body was simply demanding that he shut down and sleep immediately.
No. Can't sleep here. Not safe. There could be more monsters—
His thoughts fragmented. The edges of his vision went dark.
Just... just for a second...
Daniel Cross's eyes slid closed, and consciousness slipped away from him like sand through an hourglass.
At that moment, several figures were moving quickly through the forest, following the trail of blood that led toward Daniel Cross's location.
"Captain, it's right up ahead!" A young man with sandy-brown hair called out to the others behind him. He was lean and athletic, moving through the underbrush with practiced ease. His leather armor was worn but well-maintained, and a short sword hung at his hip.
"Could it be that Brown Lion that escaped?" The man addressed as captain tightened his grip on his sword—a proper steel blade that gleamed even in the dappled forest light. He was older than the sandy-haired youth, maybe in his early thirties, with the weathered look of someone who'd spent years fighting for survival. His armor was better quality, marked with scratches and dents that spoke of many battles.
"It ran this way," the sandy-haired youth continued, his tone confident. "And the blood trail leads right here too. It's highly likely the Brown Lion collapsed and died from blood loss. I mean, did you see how much we carved out of that thing? No way it was getting far."
The youth's name was Olka, and he had the cocky demeanor of someone who'd survived enough fights to think he knew everything, but not enough to know how much he didn't know.
"Captain, look!" A woman's voice rang out—the squad's mage, dressed in robes rather than armor. She was pointing at something in the distance, her eyes wide. "It's the Brown Lion we wounded!"
The massive brown corpse was hard to miss, sprawled across the dirt path like a collapsed building.
"See, Captain? I told you!" Olka wore an expression of pure smugness, the kind that screamed everything is going according to my calculations. "Totally called it."
This group were Adventurers—a profession that existed in every corner of this world. They made their living by taking on commissions from the Adventurer's Guild, everything from escorting merchants to hunting dangerous monsters. It was a hard life, but one that offered freedom and the possibility of real wealth and prestige.
Almost every Adventurer dreamed of reaching S-Rank someday—the highest tier of recognition, reserved for those who'd accomplished truly legendary feats.
When the squad reached the Brown Lion's corpse, their attention was immediately drawn to something unusual: a wooden branch protruding from the creature's head, lodged deep in its eye socket.
"Hmm?" Captain Aris furrowed his brow, his experienced eyes studying the scene with growing confusion. "Why is there a branch in this Brown Lion's head?"
That didn't make sense. They'd wounded the lion, yes—slashed it with blades, peppered it with minor spells, broken one of its hind legs with a well-placed strike. But they definitely hadn't stabbed it in the eye with a stick.
Aris climbed onto the lion's massive body with practiced agility, using the creature's shoulder as a stepping stone to get a closer look at the branch. When he reached down to examine it more closely, his fingers barely brushed the wood—
And the entire branch instantly turned to ash.
It didn't crumble or break apart. It simply disintegrated, transforming into gray powder that scattered on the breeze. Within seconds, nothing remained but a gaping hole in the Brown Lion's skull, the edges charred and blackened as if the branch had been burning from within.
"What in the world...?" Aris muttered, his mind racing. Magic? Some kind of special technique? "Was this done by a person?"
"Captain, there's someone over there!" The mage—a young woman named Mira—was pointing at something further down the path. Her voice carried a note of concern.
Aris's head snapped around to follow her gesture.
About thirty yards away, a figure lay motionless on the ground beside the path. A boy who looked to be about sixteen years old, dressed in strange clothes that Aris didn't recognize. He wasn't moving.
For a moment, Aris felt a cold spike of worry. Please don't be dead. If someone died because we let that lion escape...
"Mira, let's go check on him," Aris said sharply, already moving. He turned to Olka and the two newest members of their squad—young recruits who'd just joined. "Olka, you take the newcomers and dismantle the Brown Lion. We need to harvest what we can."
"Yeah, got it," Olka replied with barely concealed reluctance. He'd much rather investigate the mysterious unconscious boy than do the dirty work of butchering a monster, but orders were orders. He turned to the two rookies with a sigh. "You guys know how to dismantle materials, right? Because if you don't, you're about to learn the hard way."
Aris didn't wait for their response. He and Mira were already running toward the fallen boy, their boots pounding against the packed earth.
When they reached him, Aris dropped to one knee beside the boy, his trained eyes scanning for injuries. The kid was breathing—that was good. But his clothes were torn, his shoes practically destroyed, and there were abrasions on his hands and arms that suggested he'd been running hard and fighting harder.
"Mira, it looks like he's unconscious," Aris said, his voice softer now. "Give him some healing."
Mira nodded and raised her hands, her eyes closing in concentration as she began to chant. Her voice was melodic, carrying the ritualistic cadence of proper spellcasting:
"Okay! Holy power is the fragrant grain, grant the strength to stand again to those who have lost their energy! [Healing]!"
A gentle green light—the color of new spring leaves and fresh growth—began to glow from Mira's palms. The healing magic washed over Daniel Cross in soothing waves, and his injuries began to close. The abrasions on his skin knitted together. The microtears in his muscles from overexertion started to repair themselves. Even the blisters on his feet from running in inadequate footwear began to fade.
The basic Healing spell also counteracted the negative side effects of the massive adrenaline crash he'd just experienced, clearing away the toxins and chemical imbalances that had forced his body into shutdown.
Aris watched the healing process with the eye of an experienced warrior. His gaze fell on Daniel Cross's right hand—specifically, on the distinctive puncture mark where the wooden branch had pierced his palm when he'd gripped it too tightly during the throw.
Could that branch have been this kid's doing? Aris thought, piecing together the evidence. A wooden spear, thrown hard enough to penetrate a Brown Lion's skull. But he doesn't look like he has any martial training. His muscle development is all wrong. How did he...?
As the healing magic finished its work, Daniel Cross's consciousness began to return. The first thing he became aware of was that he didn't hurt anymore. The second thing was that he wasn't tired. The third thing was that there were people standing over him, and he had no idea if they were friendly.
Daniel Cross's eyes snapped open. His pupils dilated as panic flooded through him, and he jerked upright into a sitting position so fast that it startled both Mira and Aris.
For a split second, his face was a mask of pure terror—the expression of someone who'd just woken up in an unknown place, surrounded by strangers, with the memory of a giant monster trying to kill him still fresh in his mind.
Then, almost like a switch had been flipped, the panic vanished. Daniel Cross's expression smoothed over into something carefully neutral, though his eyes remained wary and alert.
It was such an abrupt transition that it looked almost comical—like he'd remembered mid-panic that he was supposed to be playing it cool.
"Pfft~" Mira couldn't help it. A laugh bubbled up from her chest, and she quickly covered her mouth with one hand, trying to suppress it. But her shoulders shook with suppressed giggles, her eyes crinkling with amusement at Daniel Cross's rapid emotional pivot.
Aris didn't laugh, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. His gaze remained fixed on Daniel Cross, assessing. After a moment, he pointed toward the Brown Lion corpse where Olka and the rookies were working.
"Hey there," Aris said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "What's your name? Did you kill that Brown Lion with a wooden branch?"
Daniel Cross's brow furrowed in confusion. The sounds coming out of Aris's mouth were... wrong. Not quite gibberish, but definitely not any language Daniel Cross recognized. It was like listening to someone speak through water, or hearing words filtered through some kind of distortion effect.
What is this guy saying? Is that supposed to be a language? It sounds like someone's trying to talk while gargling marbles.
Daniel Cross opened his mouth to respond—to say something, even if it was just to indicate he didn't understand—when a sharp, stabbing pain suddenly lanced through his skull.
"Ah!" He gasped, his hands flying up to clutch his head. It felt like someone was driving an icepick directly into his brain, right behind his eyes.
Then the information came.
It flooded into his mind all at once—a torrent of knowledge being forcibly downloaded into his consciousness. Language structures. Grammar rules. Vocabulary. Pronunciation. Thousands of words and their meanings, cultural context, common phrases, idioms. The entire linguistic framework of this world's human language, compressed and uploaded directly into his neural pathways in the span of about three seconds.
And along with it, another package of information: combat techniques. Stances, forms, breathing patterns, tactical applications. The complete foundation of Cloud Knight spear combat, from basic strikes to defensive positions to footwork drills.
It was overwhelming. Invasive. Like having someone else's memories shoved into his head without permission.
But then, just as quickly as it had come, the pain vanished. Daniel Cross blinked, his vision clearing. And when Aris spoke again—
"You okay, kid?"
—Daniel Cross understood every word perfectly.
"My name is Daniel Cross," he answered without hesitation, his voice steady despite the lingering weirdness of having a new language suddenly installed in his brain. "And yes, I killed that Brown Lion."
He watched the two of them carefully as he spoke, trying to gauge their intentions. They'd healed him, which was a good sign. But that didn't necessarily mean they were safe. For all he knew, they could be planning to rob him, or worse.
Though to be fair, I don't have anything worth robbing. Unless they want a dead phone and destroyed shoes.
Aris studied Daniel Cross for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. Finally, he gave a small nod of approval and held up his thumb in a gesture of respect.
"Brother, you're pretty impressive," Aris said honestly. His tone carried genuine admiration. "Judging by your clothes, you must be a local of the Great Forest, right? Growing up out here, learning to survive?"
As an Advanced Swordsman of the North God Style—one of the three major sword schools of this world—Aris had trained his observational skills to a razor's edge. He could read people's muscle development, their stance, their unconscious body language. And everything he was seeing told him that the boy in front of him had virtually zero martial arts training.
Daniel Cross's muscles were lean but underdeveloped for combat. His posture was all wrong for someone who'd trained in any fighting style. His hands lacked the calluses of weapon work.
Which made the dead Brown Lion even more impressive—and more mysterious.
"This..." Daniel Cross hesitated, weighing his options. He could try to make up a story, but something told him that lying would be more dangerous than telling a version of the truth. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" Aris's eyebrows rose slightly.
"I don't know where I'm from," Daniel Cross continued, shaking his head. "I woke up in the forest. I don't remember anything before that."
It wasn't entirely a lie. He had woken up in the forest with no idea where he was. The fact that his memories of Earth were intact wasn't really relevant to the question.
"You don't know where your home is either?" Aris's expression shifted to one of concern. The kid seemed like someone who'd lost his memory—or possibly been hit on the head hard enough to scramble his brains. "What about your family? Parents? Any siblings?"
Daniel Cross shook his head again. "I don't know."
"So you only remember your name?" Aris asked gently. "Just 'Daniel Cross' and nothing else?"
Daniel Cross nodded, committing to the amnesia story. It was the cleanest explanation for why he knew nothing about this world.
"Alright," Aris said after a moment of consideration. His voice was kind, the tone of someone used to helping people in trouble. "That's okay. These things happen sometimes—head injuries, magical accidents, all sorts of things can mess with memory. Come back to Milixion with us. We'll get you sorted out, maybe find someone who knows you or can help you figure out your past."
Just then, Daniel Cross's stomach let out a loud, angry growl that echoed in the quiet forest.
The sound was so sudden and so comically loud that even Aris couldn't suppress a small smile.
Daniel Cross felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, one hand moving to his stomach as if he could somehow silence it through sheer embarrassment. "Do you have anything to eat? I'm starving."
Aris reached for a small leather pouch at his waist—the kind adventurers used to carry essential supplies. He pulled out several pieces of dried meat and handed them to Daniel Cross. The jerky was dark and tough-looking, but it smelled amazing.
"Here. It's not much, but it'll keep you going until we get back to town."
"Thanks." Daniel Cross took the jerky gratefully and immediately began to devour it, tearing into the tough meat with his teeth. It was salty, chewy, and absolutely delicious—probably because he was literally starving, but he wasn't going to question it.
The long run from the lion, the adrenaline surge, the mysterious golden power he'd used—all of it had been constantly draining his stamina. His body desperately needed fuel, and the dried meat was exactly what he needed.
Aris watched Daniel Cross eat with the ravenous intensity of someone who hadn't seen food in days. A trace of pity flickered in his eyes. The poor kid must have been out in the forest for a while before they found him.
"Mira," Aris said to the mage, "keep an eye on him here for a bit. He says he's lost his memory, so we need to make sure he doesn't wander off and get himself killed."
Mira nodded seriously at Aris's words, her earlier amusement replaced with concern. "I'll watch him."
Aris turned and walked back toward Olka and the others, intending to help with the dismantling of the Brown Lion. The materials from a creature this size would fetch a good price at the Guild, and wasting them would be foolish.
Daniel Cross watched the group work for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on the jerky as his mind raced.
Okay. Let's think this through rationally.
I'm in a fantasy world with monsters and magic. I have some kind of system that gave me a template based on a video game character. I apparently have martial arts skills and magic abilities now, though I have no idea how to use the magic part yet. And I just met a group of people who seem friendly and are offering to take me to a city.
This is... actually going pretty well, all things considered. I mean, I didn't die. That's a win.
His throat felt dry from the salty jerky. Daniel Cross turned to Mira, who was sitting nearby on a fallen log, watching him with curious eyes.
"Sister Mira," he said politely, "is there any water?"
Mira's face brightened. She nodded and stood up, raising one hand in front of her. "Of course!"
She closed her eyes briefly, concentrating. Then she spoke a single word:
"[Water Ball]."
Magic circles appeared in the air around her hand, glowing with soft blue light. The geometric patterns were incredibly complex, spinning and interlocking in ways that made Daniel Cross's eyes hurt to follow. Then, with a gentle whoosh, water materialized out of thin air, coalescing into a perfect sphere about the size of a basketball that hovered above her palm.
Mira guided the water ball toward Daniel Cross with a gentle gesture, letting it float over to him. He cupped his hands beneath it, and the water flowed down in a clean stream, cool and refreshing.
Daniel Cross's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. His mouth literally hung open as he stared at the impossible sphere of water, watching it defy gravity and physics right in front of his face.
"There's actually magic in this world?!" The words burst out of him in a whisper, more to himself than to Mira. "Real, actual, honest-to-god magic! Not cultivation, not qi, but literal spell-casting magic!"
Then his gaze suddenly focused on something else—something that made him freeze mid-drink.
Floating in his vision, translucent and glowing faintly, was a virtual screen that only he could see. Like a video game interface overlaid on reality itself.
[Current Dan Heng • Imbibitor Lunae Template Progress: One Percent]
[Skills: Cloud Knight Basic Spear Technique, No-Incantation Magic Technique]
Daniel Cross's eyes widened further as he stared at the screen, his heart pounding with a mixture of confusion and excitement. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing.
What on earth is this? A system? Like... like in those isekai light novels?
He'd read enough web fiction to know what this meant. Template system. Progress percentage. Skills unlocked. This was the kind of thing protagonists got in stories—the cheat ability that let them become overpowered.
But reading about it and actually experiencing it were two completely different things.
As his gaze swept over the words "Dan Heng • Imbibitor Lunae" on the screen, another flood of memories suddenly surged into his mind. Not installed knowledge like the language or the spear techniques, but actual memories—or rather, the lore and backstory of the character from the game.
The High Elder of the Vidyadhara. The bearer of the Azure Dragon's power. The holder of ancient authority and devastating strength.
That's what I'm becoming? The one percent version of that?
"Could this... be my system?" Daniel Cross whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. There was awe in his tone, mixed with disbelief. "My actual, honest-to-god, isekai protagonist system?"
He couldn't help but feel excited. His heart raced with the possibilities. After all, who could refuse transmigrating to another world with a system? It was the dream—the fantasy that countless people imagined but never expected to experience.
Especially for someone like me, Daniel Cross thought, the excitement tinged with bittersweetness. Someone who lost all their family, who was working themselves to death just to get through school. This is... this is a second chance. A real second chance at life.
His attention was drawn back to the skills column on the floating interface. The first one was familiar now:
Cloud Knight Basic Spear Technique
The moment he focused on it, memories related to the skill surfaced in his mind. He could see the forms in his mind's eye—the basic thrusts, the defensive spins, the footwork patterns. More than that, his body knew how to execute them. The muscle memory had been installed along with the knowledge.
He'd already completely mastered this basic spear technique without ever physically training with it.
That's insane. That's absolutely insane. This is like downloading kung fu directly into your brain.
But then his gaze moved to the second skill, and his excitement faltered:
No-Incantation Magic Technique
This one was a complete mystery. Unlike the spear technique, which had come with intuitive understanding, this skill felt... opaque. He didn't know what it meant, how it worked, or how to use it. The name suggested it was related to magic—probably a way to cast spells without speaking incantations like Mira had just done—but beyond that, he was clueless.
I'll have to figure that one out later. Right now, I just need to stay alive, get to this city they mentioned, and find somewhere safe to experiment.
Daniel Cross looked up at Mira, who was watching him with patient curiosity, and gave her a grateful smile.
"Thank you for the water, Sister Mira."
She returned the smile warmly. "You're welcome! Are you feeling better now?"
"Much better," Daniel Cross replied honestly. The food, water, and healing magic had done wonders. He actually felt human again—or whatever the equivalent was in this world.
Now he just had to figure out how to navigate this new life without getting himself killed.
And maybe, just maybe, figure out what it meant to be the bearer of the Imbibitor Lunae template in a world that clearly wasn't the game he'd been playing just hours ago.
One percent down. Ninety-nine to go.
This is going to be interesting.
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