Venturing into the dense forest beyond Briarstead, every nerve in my body is alive. Shadows twist and turn around me as if they're hiding secrets, and the faint, eerie rustle of leaves feels amplified in the silent atmosphere. I keep my steps light, hoping not to disturb whatever may be lurking just beyond my sight. The System's instructions are burned into my mind, the details of my quest echoing like a constant drumbeat: gather rare herbs deep within these wilds. Simple as it sounds, the System didn't exactly specify how "rare" translates to "safe."
My stomach clenches, but I push forward, scanning the terrain with a keen eye. The tension knots tighter with each passing second, and I can't shake the feeling that something, or someone, is watching me from the shadows. I pause for a moment, listening to the faint crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional snap of twigs in the distance. Despite the familiar chill of fear running up my spine, I press on. It's strange to think this quest—a simple herb gathering—could hold so much threat, but I can't ignore the underlying urgency. Avoiding the System's penalty is one motivation, but the realization that I need to adapt to this world is another.
I feel a prick of unease as I kneel to examine a small cluster of herbs nestled beneath a gnarled tree root. My fingers reach out to pluck the delicate stems, but before I can even grasp the first leaf, a low, menacing growl rumbles through the underbrush behind me.
Every instinct in my body screams to run, but for a split second, I freeze. The growl deepens, echoing through the trees, a stark reminder that the dangers here aren't just figments of my imagination. Heart pounding, I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of a shadow moving in the thick underbrush, but it's too fast for me to make out clearly.
I'm running before I fully register what I'm doing. Feet pounding against the forest floor, I dart between trees, avoiding low-hanging branches and tangled roots. I can hear the snapping of jaws and the thundering steps of something fast—too fast—gaining on me. A shiver runs through me as I realize that whatever is chasing me, it's relentless. And it's close.
"Come on, come on…" I mutter to myself, my voice barely a whisper as I struggle to push through the undergrowth, my mind racing with half-formed plans and desperate thoughts. What was the System thinking, throwing me into a quest like this?
I can feel the hot breath of the creature behind me, and I dive behind a thick tree trunk, pressing myself against the rough bark, hoping to go unnoticed. My chest heaves, each breath ragged and desperate, my heart pounding like a drum. I strain to listen, hoping I've evaded it, but the silence that follows only serves to heighten my fear. Every muscle in my body is taut, ready to spring back into motion at the slightest hint of danger.
Just as I begin to think I might have shaken it off, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps reaches my ears. They're coming closer, the creature prowling around the tree as if toying with me. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself, praying to any gods of this world or mine that it doesn't find me here. The footsteps stop, and for a breathless moment, everything goes still.
I crack open my eyes, heart racing, only to find myself staring directly into the cold, amber eyes of a wolf mere feet away. It growls, baring a row of sharp teeth that glint in the dim light. My pulse quickens, and I do the only thing that comes to mind—I throw myself to the side, rolling into a patch of brambles as the wolf lunges, its jaws snapping just inches from where I'd been standing.
Scrambling to my feet, I bolt, ignoring the sting of cuts and scratches from the thorns. My legs scream in protest, but adrenaline keeps me moving. A second growl joins the first, and I realize there's more than one of them. Of course, it couldn't just be one.
The wolves pursue me with terrifying speed and precision, darting through the trees like shadows, effortlessly closing the gap between us. Panic surges through me as I feel them gaining ground. My foot catches on a root, and I stumble, barely managing to catch myself before I fall headlong into the dirt. I can hear the System's voice echoing in my head, warnings and penalties flashing before my eyes.
Desperation takes over, and I turn to face my attackers, grabbing a fallen branch and brandishing it like a weapon. One of the wolves circles around me, its eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that sends a chill through my bones. I swing the branch, but it's more a feeble swipe than a real attack, and the wolf dodges it easily, lunging forward with a snarl. I brace myself, closing my eyes as I prepare for the impact, but the wolf misses by a hair as I stumble back.
A mad thought crosses my mind: maybe, just maybe, if I can injure one of them, they'll think twice about attacking me. I remember the System's basic "Fist Strike" skill and, without thinking, I summon it, focusing all my remaining energy into my fist. The glow is faint, barely noticeable, but I throw a desperate punch, connecting with the nearest wolf's side. It yelps, a brief look of surprise crossing its face, and I feel a spark of hope.
But the strike barely fazes it. The wolf recovers in seconds, its growl deepening as it lunges again, teeth bared. I jump back, nearly losing my balance, and dart toward a dense thicket nearby, hoping the cover will give me a chance to escape.
I drop to my knees, pressing myself into the foliage as the wolves prowl nearby, their heavy breaths filling the air. My heart thuds painfully in my chest, my body trembling as I try to stay perfectly still, waiting for them to pass. Minutes crawl by, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, the footsteps fade into the distance.
Only when I'm sure they're gone do I allow myself to breathe. I sit there, catching my breath, every muscle in my body aching from the strain. My clothes are torn, my skin scratched and bruised, and a painful knot is forming where I struck the ground during my frantic escape.
As I look around, I spot the first herb nestled beneath a small patch of moss. My hand trembles as I reach for it, but I manage to pluck the delicate leaves, holding them carefully in my palm as if they're some kind of lifeline. Relief washes over me, but it's short-lived. The sound of approaching footsteps echoes through the trees, and a new wave of fear hits me.
I'm not alone out here—and whatever's coming might be even more dangerous than the wolves.