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"w_k u_p…"
"wAke Up…"
"WaKE UP!"
"WAKE UP!!!"
"HUHH?!!"
Confused, Isaac jolted awake, frantically reaching for his sword and scanning for the source of the voice, but…
"ARGGHHH!!!"
Agony ripped through his body and head as if he'd been torn apart and crudely pieced back together. His skull felt as though a dozen nails had been hammered into his brain.
His body was still racked with pain and felt fragile from the battle with the creature. The adrenaline that had surged through him, pushing his body beyond its limits, had allowed him to defeat the beast.
Now, his body exacted its toll, repaying every ounce of strength expended with crippling pain.
He gasped for breath, nearly overwhelmed by the intensity of his pain.
After what seemed like an eternity, the searing torment dulled to a relentless throb. He ceased his futile search for his sword, his eyes darting wildly, trying to locate the voice that had awakened him.
But, like before, he found nothing.
"Did I have a nightmare?... What happened?…"
He whispered, trying to make sense of his surroundings, though his head pounded like it was being crushed.
"How long have I been out?" he wondered aloud, his voice swallowed by the thick, oppressive fog that surrounded him.
He remained slumped against the same tree.
Everything was unchanged. The fog hung heavily, a suffocating blanket that obscured his vision and dampened the air. The tall, skeletal trees loomed like damned souls frozen in eternal torment.
Above, the colossal star cast its eerie, otherworldly light, its ghostly glow sifting through the trees like ethereal fingers. His eyes found his black, rusted katana lying beside him, untouched, with his bag a bit farther away.
Nothing had been disturbed; everything was as he had left it.
He realized, with a start, that he was still alive. Miraculously, nothing had come to rip him to shreds while he was unconscious.
He examined his body, noting the numerous scratches and the state of his tattered, filthy clothes. The rough, jagged ground had marked him, leaving his garments in tatters from dragging himself along it.
When he looked at his left arm, he saw the makeshift bandage—a piece of his black T-shirt—still wrapped around it. He had tied it hastily, without care, but now he was grateful it had held.
With a deep breath, he resolved to inspect the wound left by the creature. The memory of its claws tearing into his flesh was vivid, and the fear of infection gnawed at him.
"Hssss… haaaa…" He exhaled, summoning the courage to look at his arm.
He slowly untied the knot, the cloth rustling as it came undone. Bracing himself, he peeled away the makeshift bandage and looked.
"Huh?"
He blinked in disbelief. The gaping wound he expected was gone. Instead, four long scars ran across his left arm, faint but undeniable.
"Where is the wound? I'm not blind, am I? Where is the wound?"
He searched his arm again, unable to comprehend how it had healed so quickly. The scars were the only remnants of the deep gashes that had once been there.
The pain had been real, the sensation of claws slicing through his flesh seared into his memory. Yet now, his arm was healed.
"How did my wound heal so easily?" he murmured. The smell of blood still lingered on the now-dry bandage, a stark reminder of the ordeal he had survived.
"GRUMBLE!!!"
A sharp pang of hunger tore through his stomach. His lips were cracked from dehydration. He remembered the scant rations left in his bag: one sandwich and half a liter of water.
"If I encounter another monster like that, I probably won't make it," he thought grimly. His resources were dwindling, his energy nearly spent. Survival seemed a distant hope.
Frustration flared, a molten wave of rage and despair that he could barely contain.
"Stupid, stupid, STUPID!!! I was so stupid!!"
His scream shattered the silence as he slammed his fist into the ground.
"Thump."
He felt a surge of fury, not just at the hellish situation, but at himself. He had allowed himself to become complacent, and it had nearly cost him his life.
"I was so stupid to think this place was safe," he spat, self-loathing twisting his features. His mistakes had drained his energy and resources.
"Sigh~ I have to calm down. If I don't, I can't think rationally."
He forced himself to breathe, to push back the seething emotions. He needed clarity, not rage.
"Sigh~ I can't change my past mistakes. I have to learn from them and move on." He steeled himself, vowing never to let his guard down again.
"I will survive, I will live, I will escape. I don't care if I have to steal to survive. I will do whatever it takes."
His resolve solidified. This place was merciless, and trust was a luxury he could no longer afford. If survival meant taking lives, so be it.
"If it means I have to kill to accomplish my goal and dream, so be it."
He accepted the grim reality. In this world, it was kill or be killed. He had to be ruthless if he hoped to escape this wretched place.
He lifted his gaze to the colossal star, its light casting a cold, otherworldly glow over the forest. It loomed above like a distant, indifferent god.
Isaac shoved the bloody shirt back into his bag. Though it might attract predators, he decided to keep it. So far, it hadn't drawn anything to him.
"GRUMBLEEE"
His stomach protested again, more insistently. He needed to eat before setting off. Rationing his meager supplies, he took out the lunchbox and thermos.
One sandwich and half a liter of water. It was barely enough for the journey if he encountered no threats.
He calculated his rations with grim precision, deciding to eat a fourth of the sandwich and a fifth of the water now, cutting the sandwich into bite-sized pieces to make it last.
He would take five breaks along the way, despite the risk. Every bite and sip was savored, a small solace in his dire situation.
As he ate, he reflected on the strange power he had wielded against the creature. It had drained him, and he wasn't even sure how he had activated it.
'I'll figure it out later. Right now, I don't even have the energy to stand.'
A flicker of hope mingled with his fear. If he could harness that power, perhaps he stood a chance against this hostile world.
Finishing his meager meal, he forced himself to stand, pain radiating through his body.
"Aghhh."
Using the tree for support, he struggled to his feet. He oriented himself, recalling the direction of the town by the position of the trees before the battle.
It looks like he had a good memory.
"But not good enough to remember who I am, I guess," he muttered darkly.
He picked up his bag and gripped his katana, resolving to stay vigilant. He would not be caught off guard again.
"Sigh~ I should get moving. I'm almost at the foot of the mountain."
With grim determination, he set off once more, ready to face whatever horrors lay ahead.
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