Walking back to Briarstead, I felt every muscle in my body ache with exhaustion. Greenhill was farther than it seemed in the daylight, and I was still getting used to the fatigue that came with living in this world. It was funny, really. Back home, I barely moved; now, I walked miles every day, trained to exhaustion, and fought to stay alert. And yet, even with the physical transformation, I knew I still hadn't fully adapted. This world expected more from me, and I couldn't help feeling like I was always one step behind.
Just as the village huts came into view, a familiar ding rang in my ears, a sound I'd come to dread.
System Notification: New Quests Available.
Groaning, I reluctantly opened the list. A long string of tasks greeted me: Gather herbs, build a campfire, craft a basic knife… Really? None of these seemed remotely heroic. I half-expected the System to ask me to sweep the floors next.
"Come on," I muttered, though I knew the System wasn't listening.
It was tempting to ignore the list, but I'd already learned the hard way that the System had ways of reminding me who was in charge. And as menial as these quests seemed, they were obviously not optional. Resigned, I pocketed the notification and headed to my hut to grab what little gear I had. The forest wasn't too far, but given my luck, even a short trip would probably find a way to turn into a disaster.
As I stepped into the forest, the cool shade of the trees offered some relief from the sun's harsh rays. My first task was to gather a handful of herbs—simple enough, right? Except, of course, that I had absolutely no idea what these herbs looked like. The System had given me descriptions, but without the familiarity of a picture, it felt like I was stumbling around in the dark. I crouched down by a patch of green plants, examining them closely, then sighed.
"They all look the same," I muttered. The thought of failing a task as basic as herb-gathering was both humiliating and frustrating.
I spent a good hour trudging around, bending down to squint at plants and trying to remember the vague descriptions. Finally, I found what I thought was the right one—a cluster of tiny blue flowers with thin, long leaves. Carefully, I plucked a handful and stuffed them into my pack, hoping the System would confirm it later. The herbs quest—hopefully—done, I moved on to the next task: building a campfire. I'd watched countless characters in games and movies do this with ease, so how hard could it really be?
Apparently, very hard.
I grabbed a few sticks, arranged them in a neat little pile, and began striking two rocks together, expecting sparks to fly instantly. Nothing happened. My hands started to ache as I struck the rocks again and again, my patience thinning with every failed attempt. After a solid five minutes, I finally managed to produce a spark, but it vanished almost instantly. Frustration mounted as I tried over and over, each attempt seeming more hopeless than the last.
"Come on, just light up already!" I hissed at the stubborn wood, as though yelling would somehow make the flames appear.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a tiny ember caught. I blew on it gently, coaxing it to grow. The spark flickered and then, at last, the fire took hold, a small but triumphant flame dancing on the wood. Relief washed over me, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. It was a small victory, but in a place like this, small victories mattered.
With the fire crackling at my side, I sat back, allowing myself a brief moment of satisfaction. I was beginning to see that these simple tasks, while annoying, were actually forcing me to develop skills I never would have considered back home. Back then, fire was just something I could summon by flicking a lighter. Here, every flame felt earned.
The final task on the list was to craft a knife. I hadn't a clue where to start, but I knew it would require a piece of wood and something sharp to whittle it down. I chose a sturdy branch and set to work, carefully shaving away the outer layer with a small, makeshift tool I'd fashioned earlier. Hours passed, the sun beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees.
As I carved, I found myself drifting into memories of my old life. Back then, I was content to spend hours in front of a screen, barely moving except to fetch another bag of chips. And now? Now I was in the middle of nowhere, struggling to make a knife from a stick. The contrast was laughable. But as absurd as it seemed, I was starting to feel… something. Purpose, maybe. I didn't have the luxury of laziness here. Everything I did mattered, even if only to the System. There was no going back to that old life. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd wanted to.
With the knife finally crafted, I glanced over my handiwork, surprisingly proud of the rough, yet functional weapon in my hands. Sure, it was far from perfect, but it was mine, made by my own hands. As I packed up my things, preparing to return to Briarstead, I allowed myself a brief smile. Maybe this world wasn't so bad after all.
But my small moment of pride was short-lived. Just as I stood up, a rustling in the bushes nearby snapped me back to attention. I froze, heart pounding, straining my ears to catch any further sound. The forest was still, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, a prickling sensation crawling down my spine. I scanned the shadows, gripping my newly crafted knife tighter.
Out of the darkness, a pair of glowing eyes appeared, low to the ground and fixed on me with predatory intensity. I cursed under my breath as a creature—something resembling a large wolf but leaner, more feral—slunk into view. Its fur was matted, dark as the night, and its teeth glistened as it bared them at me, a low growl rumbling from its throat.
My pulse skyrocketed, but I forced myself to stay calm, recalling every bit of combat training I'd received so far. I took a cautious step back, angling my body to keep the fire between us. The creature's eyes tracked my movement, unwavering and hungry. My mind raced, analyzing my options. Run? It would catch me in seconds. Fight? I barely knew how to hold a knife properly.
Before I could decide, the creature lunged.
I barely dodged, rolling to the side as its jaws snapped shut mere inches from where I'd been standing. I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline coursing through me as I tried to remember the stances Elara had drilled into me. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent. I gripped the knife with both hands, raising it defensively as the creature circled me, eyes gleaming in the firelight.
The next few moments were a blur of motion. The beast lunged again, and I swiped at it, the blade grazing its side but doing little to slow it down. It snarled, enraged, and swung a massive paw toward me. I barely had time to raise my arm, and even then, the blow sent me stumbling backward, pain shooting through my forearm. The creature was stronger than anything I'd faced, and my mind raced with the horrifying realization that I might actually die here.
But something inside me refused to give up. I gritted my teeth, steadying my stance, and forced myself to focus. This wasn't some game. My life was on the line. With a fierce determination, I squared my shoulders, locking eyes with the beast as it prepared to strike again.
This time, I was ready.
As it lunged, I sidestepped, driving my knife into its side as it passed. The creature let out a furious howl, twisting around to face me again, blood staining its dark fur. It was hurt, but not defeated. I tightened my grip on the knife, bracing myself for another attack.
The creature lunged once more, but I sidestepped, slashing at its exposed side. My blade connected, and the beast let out a pained snarl, staggering as it turned to face me again. I could see the weariness in its eyes, the flicker of hesitation as it assessed the wound. It wasn't invincible. Neither was I, but at least I had a fighting chance.
Summoning the last of my strength, I lunged forward, thrusting the knife into the creature's chest with all the force I could muster. It let out a final, agonized growl before collapsing to the ground, its body stilling as the life faded from its eyes. I stumbled back, panting, my limbs trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline. I'd done it. I'd survived.
As I stood over the creature's lifeless form, a strange mix of relief and pride washed over me. I'd faced down a beast and won, and while I was battered and bruised, I was alive. I hadn't felt this alive in… well, maybe ever.
The System's notification chimed again, but this time, I didn't curse. I'd earned this. Slowly, I turned and began the long walk back to Briarstead, my thoughts lingering on the fire still crackling behind me. There was a part of me—a small, stubborn part—that was actually looking forward to whatever challenge the System threw at me next.