The forest was eerily silent, just as always. In two more days, it would mark half a month since my initial struggle for survival began. I had grown stronger, strong enough to defeat Rank 1 monsters, but I still couldn't absorb their bloodlines, no matter how many battles I fought.
My mana core had finally reached a perfect state for ascending to the Rank 1 stage. All I needed now was to discover my Life Code. But before that, I had to absorb three more bloodlines to progress. Traveling further into the forest might help; perhaps I could come across some magical creatures worthy of my attention.
It had been three hours since I began my journey. Along the way, I encountered many creatures, some more dangerous-looking than others, but none, according to Lumeria, possessed a bloodline that could grant me a significant advantage.
"Adam, if you want to gain power quickly, you need to help me find my missing pieces," Lumeria had advised during one of our earlier conversations.
But how could I do that? I was trapped in this forest, with no access to civilization and no idea when I might find people who could tell me more about this world.
A sudden shout tore through my thoughts, sharp and desperate.
"Run! Hey, run!"
I instinctively grabbed my sword, unsure if the voice belonged to a friend or foe.
Through the dense underbrush, a small humanoid creature emerged, its tiny form frantic with fear. Its skin was rough, almost stone-like, and its intelligent eyes darted around, wide with panic. Behind it, a boar-like creature burst into view, its body crackling with arcs of lightning.
The creature turned to look at me, startled, and froze for a brief moment. As I ran toward them with my sword drawn, its expression changed to one of resignation, as though it believed I was another threat. It closed its eyes, preparing for the worst.
But I wasn't aiming for the little humanoid. My target was the boar.
The moment I was within range, I activated Silk Weaving, releasing threads of mana-formed silk that wrapped tightly around the boar's legs. With a sharp tug, I yanked the creature off balance and into a nearby tree, the impact resounding with a thunderous crash. Dazed, the boar struggled to recover. I didn't wait. Charging forward, I plunged my sword into its side. My movements weren't refined—my training in swordsmanship was still rudimentary—but I knew enough to land a decisive strike. The blade pierced deep, ending the boar's life.
I stood there for a moment, catching my breath. Turning toward the small creature, I noticed it had collapsed. Blood seeped from a wound on its back, staining the ground beneath it.
I hurried over, crouching down to inspect the damage. It was unconscious but alive, though the wound was deep enough to be life-threatening if left untreated. Without hesitation, I summoned my silk threads again, this time using them to stitch the wound closed. My hands moved quickly, driven by a determination I didn't fully understand. After about fifteen minutes of careful work, the bleeding stopped, and the wound was sealed.
"Now that's better," I muttered, wiping the sweat from my brow. "It should be able to recover soon."
With that taken care of, I turned my attention back to the boar. Its body still radiated power, even in death. I couldn't let such a valuable resource go to waste, not when I needed every advantage to grow stronger.
I began gathering dry wood from the surrounding area, preparing to test my fire skill. Once I had enough, I ignited a flame using Fire Spark, watching as the sparks caught and spread into a steady blaze. Cooking the meat took time—nearly two hours—but when it was finally ready, the aroma alone made my mouth water.
I took a cautious bite, savoring the rich, smoky flavor.
"This is better than anything I ever ate in my past life," I said to myself, taking another bite. The meat was tender, with a slightly spicy kick that lingered on my tongue.
Once I finished eating, I sat cross-legged near the fire to meditate and reflect on the battle.
"Lumeria," I called, my voice steady. "What did I gain?"
The familiar book floated out from the air, its golden glow faint but constant. It opened, the pages flipping as though caught in an invisible breeze.
"You've gained the Lightning Affinity, Adam," Lumeria said after a moment.
"What about the skills?"
The pages turned again, this time displaying the boar's abilities in vivid detail:
Thunder Charge: Charge at an enemy with a burst of lightning, stunning them on impact.
Static Burst: Emit a shockwave of electricity, damaging and paralyzing nearby foes.
Stormcaller: Summon storm clouds to strike enemies with lightning in rapid succession.
"Not bad," I muttered, impressed by the versatility of the abilities. "If that boar hadn't been caught off guard, it could have been a real challenge."
I glanced back at the unconscious creature. Its breathing was steady now, the rise and fall of its chest a reassuring sign.
I decided to meditate for a while to recover my mana and wait. If it still didn't wake up, I would end its suffering.
Even after recovering my mana, it still didn't wake up. Its body lay completely still, and if not for the faint rise and fall of its chest, I would have assumed it was already dead. I couldn't see the point in waiting any longer and decided to end its suffering.
I raised my hand, preparing to deliver the final blow, but just as I was about to strike, Lumeria's voice stopped me.
"Adam, don't be so hasty to kill it," she said calmly, her tone carrying a hint of caution. "Have a little patience. There's no rush, especially since it won't provide you with any significant elemental affinity anyway."
Her words gave me pause. I frowned, lowering my hand slightly, but I couldn't shake my uncertainty. "Do you know what kind of creature this is?" I asked, turning to her for answers.
"If my guess is correct," Lumeria said, her tone thoughtful as she studied the creature closely, "it's a Forgeborn."
"A Forgeborn?" I repeated, unfamiliar with the term. "What's that?"
"They are creatures with an innate talent for architecture," Lumeria explained, her gaze still fixed on the creature. "They're also known to be naturally friendly and non-threatening by nature."
I stared at the small creature, its fragile form now steady and breathing. For the first time, I wondered if saving it might have been more than an act of instinct.
I crouched down, inspecting the eggs closely. They remained perfectly still, their smooth, unblemished surfaces showing no signs of movement or life. I couldn't help but feel a flicker of uncertainty. What was I supposed to do with them? Eat them? The thought crossed my mind briefly, but something about it felt wrong, almost distasteful. No, keeping them seemed like the better option. Having more companions, even if they were just newly hatched creatures, didn't sound like a bad idea.
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling of doubt. Lumeria stood nearby, watching me with her usual cold, detached expression. That hollow gaze of hers seemed to lack even the faintest trace of emotion. I doubted she would bother to comment on my actions, regardless of what I decided.
I glanced at the eggs again, my thoughts turning to possible solutions. Perhaps I could try using the fire-element mana released during my Fire Wing skill. It might be enough to provide the energy they needed to hatch. It wasn't the most logical idea, but it was worth a try.
Let's try it now.
With a steady breath, I activated my Fire Wing skill. Flames surged from my back, forming an additional pair of wings made entirely of pure, blazing fire. The heat radiated intensely, the mana within the flames pulsating with life. Holding the eggs carefully in my hands, I lowered myself into a meditative position. My focus was unwavering as I ensured the eggs were surrounded by the warmth of the fire-element mana.
Time passed slowly. For half an hour, I sat there, holding the eggs close, my focus entirely on maintaining the flow of energy. The steady hum of mana coursing through my body gradually dulled as my reserves began to run low. My breathing grew heavier, and the strain of holding the skill began to wear on me, but I didn't stop.
Despite my efforts, the eggs remained still. No movement, no cracks—nothing. A wave of frustration surged within me, and I glanced at Lumeria. She stood nearby, silent and unchanging, her detached, emotionless gaze fixed on me.
"Lumeria," I called out, my voice tinged with doubt and impatience. "Are these eggs even alive?"
She regarded me for a moment before responding in her usual calm, measured tone. "Don't worry, Adam. They are alive. If you continue doing this daily, they should hatch in two or three days."
Her words eased some of the tension in my chest, and I let out a small sigh of relief. "Good," I muttered, more to myself than to her. "Thank God my hard work is paying off."
I glanced back down at the eggs, feeling a renewed sense of determination. Two or three days wasn't long—I just had to keep going.