Lucas wandered cautiously through the forest, his steps slow and deliberate as he glanced around his surroundings, hoping he wouldn't encounter those monsters again.
He was trying to find the forest's edge, but the trees stretched endlessly around him, their towering forms closing in on all sides, creating a maze from which there seemed no escape. His heart grew heavier with each passing moment, the silence around him amplifying his fears. He was beginning to worry that he'd have to spend the night here, alone in this vast, shadowy forest.
'This is torture! This is totally different from the stories that I read!' he thought, frustration and fear twisting within him. 'In the novels I read, when the protagonist gets transmigrated from another world, they usually receive powers that could turn the world upside down! How come I don't have that at all?'
His frustration simmered, but then a sudden thought struck him, sparking a glimmer of hope.
Wait, 'that's right!' he thought eagerly, his eyes widening. "Open system!" He held his breath, his gaze fixed on the empty space in front of him.
He stared blankly ahead.
'Uh… nothing appeared.' He thought, his heart sinking slightly.
"Open window!" "Window system!" he thought again, trying to summon something—anything—that could help him.
'Why is nothing appearing? Damn it!' he thought, disappointment mixing with fear. The silence around him seemed to close in tighter, amplifying his sense of helplessness. His hopes faded, leaving him alone in this unyielding forest.
He continued walking, lost in thought, his eyes trained on the ground as he tried to make sense of his situation. His thoughts drifted back to earlier, to the terrifying moment when he first saw those creatures—the goblins. Even now, the memory of them made his skin crawl, his stomach twist with dread.
Deep in his thoughts, Lucas wandered forward, paying little attention to his surroundings. Suddenly, a faint, familiar sound caught his attention.
'Hm? I think I've heard this sound before,' he thought, his footsteps slowing as he strained to listen. Then, in a flash, his eyes widened with realization. It was the sound of goblins speaking. Their rough, guttural language was still fresh in his mind, each word a chilling reminder of the danger they posed.
Lucas looked up, his body tensing.
A group of goblins was in front of him.
Fear seized him, his mind blanking as he took in the sight. The goblins stared at him, their eyes glinting as they muttered among themselves, their voices low and menacing. He couldn't understand their words, but he didn't need to—they were clearly discussing him, likely planning how they'd make a meal out of him.
The sight was so terrifying that Lucas's knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, unable to control the tremors coursing through him.
The goblins began to inch closer, their expressions dark and hungry.
Lucas's body refused to move. He could only watch as they approached, feeling as though he were waiting for death itself. His mind flashed to thoughts of his parents. He couldn't die here—not like this. If there was even a one percent chance he could return to Earth, to see his family again, he would cling to it with all he had.
'Damn it, I won't die like this. Ever!' he thought fiercely, a spark of defiance flickering to life within him. 'Curse this damn world!'
Summoning all his will, Lucas forced himself to stand. His legs screamed in pain, but he ignored it, focusing on one goal: escape. He turned and ran, his feet pounding against the earth, each step a desperate push to put distance between him and the goblins.
The pain in his body was sharp, but he forced himself forward, barely aware of the branches scratching at his skin or the uneven ground beneath his feet. Behind him, he could hear the goblins crashing through the underbrush, their footsteps echoing his own, their laughter a cruel reminder of how close they were. His fear was overwhelming, but he couldn't afford to stop.
Lucas ran with all his strength, his breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps as he struggled to keep moving. He wasn't sure how long he'd been running—minutes, maybe hours. All he knew was that he couldn't stop. The goblins' voices were still close, their mocking laughter echoing through the trees, a constant reminder of the threat he faced.
At last, Lucas broke through the edge of the forest. Bright sunlight hit his eyes, momentarily blinding him. He stumbled forward into a wide, open field, a place filled with grass and flowers stretching as far as he could see. The trees were far behind him now, no longer casting their shadows. But Lucas didn't even notice—he had been running too long, and his body had reached its limit.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath.
'Damn it. Curse those monsters!' he thought, his vision blurring as his exhaustion finally caught up to him.
Before he lost consciousness, he noticed a figure approaching. He couldn't make out what it was, his vision too hazy, but fear clenched his heart as he assumed it was the goblins, closing in for the final blow.
'I guess this is the end for me,' he thought, resignation mingling with terror.
'No… never!' Even now, with the last of his strength, his body tried to rise, refusing to surrender. But it was no use—he was too weak, and darkness claimed him.
***
A while later…
Lucas's senses slowly returned, a dull ache radiating through his body as he drifted back to awareness. His head throbbed, and every movement sent waves of pain through his limbs, making even the smallest shift feel like an ordeal.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
"Where… am I?" he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper.
He tried to sit up, but his muscles protested, and he took in his surroundings with bleary eyes. He was in an unfamiliar room, the air filled with the scent of something warm and comforting. By the fire, he noticed an old man with pointed ears, focused on stirring a pot over the flames.
Lucas's mind was still foggy, the events of before lingering in his thoughts. 'My head hurts,' he thought, feeling the pull of sleep return as he rested his head back on the bed, his eyelids growing heavy.
The old man, hearing Lucas stir, turned slightly and glanced over his shoulder, noting that his guest had briefly awoken.
'Oh, he's awake already?' the old man thought, turning back to his task. He continued to cook the porridge, letting it warm and thicken, ready for Lucas's eventual recovery.