Sluggishly pulling up his body from the bedding underneath him, it only took a moment for him to realize something was wrong.

He just felt... Different, and a single glance at his body confirmed his thoughts.

Small, thin, and pale.

Lucid Dream?

He pinched himself, but only a sharp pain followed—not the expected sudden awakening.

And it wasn't just his body, the room he was in was completely unfamiliar.

There was no wallpaper, no concrete, and no paint. Only roughly hewn wooden logs lined the walls and ceiling, exposing the building's foundation.

The quilt on him was thick and coarse, and underneath him was some form of animal hide. Whatever it was, it wasn't comfortable.

He threw aside the quilt and stood up, his mouth agape.

What was going on?

A bird's chirp pierced the stillness, snapping him from his thoughts.

He turned to the square hole in the wall, was this a window? It was merely an opening with no glass.

Leaning through it, he saw dark green pine trees littering the orange hue of a sunrise, while a crude wooden fence surrounded the building he was in.

It was only then that he realized how fresh the air felt to breathe, was this the legendary air quality from an AQI of under 10?

Suddenly he heard the creaking of wooden planks from beyond the door, causing his mind to race.

Should he jump out the window?

Could he jump out the window?

That moment of hesitation allowed the visitor to reveal themself.

"Lin, my god! You should have told me you woke up!", a young woman cried out, rushing towards him.

After just a few movements she had already enveloped him in a tight hug. But he didn't feel any relief, only confusion and concern.

Waking up in an unfamiliar room? And a stranger started hugging him out of nowhere?

And...

Lin?

Who was Lin?

As if waiting for that thought, memories flooded in like a tidal wave.

He had been to an old library, where, out of curiosity, he had opened an ancient book. The next thing he knew, he'd lost consciousness and now found himself here.

Was that it? What was that book?

"Lin!", the woman's voice brought him back to reality.

She gently pulled him back down to the bed, unwrapping a bandage from his head. He hadn't even realized it was there.

Was he injured?

"Ah! Y... Your wound is completely healed! There's not even a scar! It's a miracle!"

She leaned forward and embraced him tightly while sniffling.

"Mother... really thought you weren't going to make it, I... I don't know what I would have done if you left us"

Hearing that, the situation finally clicked.

He had possessed a boy named Lin, and this woman was giving a heartfelt hug to an imposter.

A pang of guilt flickered through him—but he couldn't respond—her son was gone.

The boy who now took the name Lin quickly analyzed the situation and came to a conclusion: This boy had been severely injured, and most likely perished.

However, he used the ancient book and took over his body at the last moment.

It's even possible that his old body was now occupied by the previous Lin, but that was mere speculation.

The unfortunate part was that he had no memories of this body's original owner.

Thankfully, the language seemed to be the same, at least the phonetics.

Watching his unfamiliar new mother crying on his shoulder while hugging him, Lin didn't know what to feel.

His fist silently clenched, he didn't really know what was happening, but it was only a matter of time before he'd figure it out.

That was the first day Lin had arrived in the magical world of Atelia.

—

"Brother!" A high-pitched, lively voice rang out from behind him.

Lin turned, his gaze falling on his little sister, Lei, skipping toward him with a mischievous grin.

"Lei, don't mess around in my room while I'm gone, alright?" he called, though his tone lacked real sharpness.

She giggled, clearly intending to ravage his room, but Lin didn't press it further. His words were more of a gentle deterrent than a true scolding. He'd said them a thousand times before.

Exiting the cabin, he walked to an old shed and took a bow, arrows, and some pouches from the wall.

A deep voice rumbled from the doorway, and Lin didn't need to look to know it was his father, a broad-shouldered and bearded figure, entering the shed.

"Hunting again? Don't go too far, and stay clear of the Vibrant Grove. A new King Moose has claimed it as its territory."

His father paused, his expression serious, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "And make sure you prepare—"

"I know, I know," Lin interrupted, a little impatient. He threw a quick glance toward the gate and headed out, stopping his father from going on a 5-minute long rant.

The man was somehow even more overprotective than his mother, believe it or not.

"See you, Mom!" he shouted towards the woman who was hanging laundry on the clothesline next to the well.

"Stay safe! Oh, and don't be too late, were having something special for dinner tonight!"

He clasped the fence's gate shut and swiftly made his way through a path in the forest.

Looking at the various shades of green surrounding the cobblestone path brought him back to the first time he had left the cabin.

It had been 7 years since then, but the scenery hadn't changed one bit.

Lin learned a lot over that time, including the system that only he could see.

Softly chanting the word 'Status' in his mind, elegantly written black text appeared in his vision like ink splashing onto an empty canvas:

┃ (Status) Name: Lin Dawnbloom Age: 15, Longevity: 100

┃ (Physique) None - 8

┃ (Mana) None - 0

┃ (Spirit) None - 0

┃ (Talents) None

┃ (Affinities) None

┃ (Arcana) None

┃ (Aptitudes) None

┃ (Traits) None

It was... Lackluster.

Other than his name, age, and what he assumed meant a potential lifespan of 100 years, it was as if he had nothing.

Had he not known about this system, he wouldn't have realized this was a magic world at all, there were absolutely no indications of any magic except strange beasts and plants while living here.

Seven years! He trained his body every other day, ate meat caught from hunting, and regularly practiced archery, but physique showed no change.

As for mana and spirit? No matter how much meditation or spiritual thinking he did gave even the slightest of enlightenment, it was simply hopeless.

He worked tirelessly, but it was like trying to catch the wind—was this the fate of those without talent?

What was even stranger than his lack of magical prowess however was his surname.

It must be said that Lin was a commoner in this world, a peasant of the Edelweiss Kingdom, a surname? Only the aristocracy had such luxuries.

So why did it say Dawnbloom?

He had mentioned the name a few times with his family, but none of them ever had any reactions, so he was simply at a loss as to why the system deemed it so.

The only connection he could make to it were the deep purple eyes he and his sister shared, which was an oddity in itself because neither of his parents had colored eyes.

He had never truly been to a market or town in this world specifically because his parents didn't want him to reveal his eyes to others, apparently colors like purple were strictly noble.

A rustling from the bushes snapped him out of his thoughts and his hands instinctively reached for his bow.

But he didn't pull back the string just yet; there was no point in wasting energy. Patience was key.

The seconds ticked by. He waited, but nothing appeared.

"They never come to your doorstep," Lin muttered, shaking his head. "I should keep on moving."

An hour later, Lin arrived at one of the traps he had set the day before.

"Nothing"

He continued forward to the next trap.

He checked each one methodically, but his pouch was still empty. It wasn't unusual to come back with nothing; hunting could be fickle.

Still, the emptiness gnawed at him. The last hunt had been like this too, he wanted to at least bring back something today.

Finally, after three hours of checking traps, he approached the last one.

Climbing over a falling log, he jumped down and brushed some low branches from in front of his face and looked at the final trap he had set.

His breath caught in his throat.

A behemoth moose was devouring whatever had been caught in the trap, staining the grass in a deep crimson.

Normal moose were herbivores and wouldn't touch meat—but not this one.

Its antlers were golden and circular in shape, almost resembling a large crown around its head.

King Moose!

He had thought it was in the Vibrant Grove, and that was far away from here!

King Moose were a higher-level creature and were supposed to be fairly intelligent for a beast, so why would it leave its territory?

The beast did not give him time to think and slowly picked up its head from the corpse of a small animal, its golden beady eyes staring straight into his own.

A chill ran straight down his spine.

His body froze. His legs wouldn't move. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his feet felt nailed to the earth.

Lin had hunted hundreds of animals, but at this moment it was as if he had never hunted anything in his life.

The beast's hooves dug into the ground as it charged toward him.

Move, damn it!

Move!

But instead of his legs, his hands acted first, the calluses on his palms proved just how much he had practiced to be able to instinctively shoot.

A crude arrow flew through the air, but the King Moose didn't flinch. Its massive antlers deflected the shot effortlessly.

And it was then that Lin snapped back to reality.

Run!

He spun on his heel, sprinting back toward the path, but immediately regretted turning straight back when he realized that his route was cut off by the log he had climbed over to get here.

Shit!

Throwing his body to the side at the last second, he heard wood cracking as the moose rammed right into the log, creating a large divot in it.

But Lin didn't look back. He didn't have time, he directly stepped on a half-broken branch coming out of the log and climbed on top, his heart pounding.

Then, just as he was about to keep running, his father's old words came to mind.

"If a beast is coming at you, fight. Turning your back is the same as asking to die. If you run, it will catch you. You must kill it before it kills you!"

Clenching his teeth, Lin crouched low on the log, nocking another arrow, this time aiming for the body, not the head. He couldn't afford another missed shot.

His hands were steady. But the log shook beneath him, branches snapping as the moose collided with it again.

This was completely different than firing on steady ground, and his aim wavered as he struggled to maintain balance.

An arrow flew through the air and he didn't even bother to check if it hit its target before grabbing another.

Bang! Another impact and the log gave way. Lin immediately tumbled to the ground.

By the time he pulled himself up, the moose was already rushing at him.

Yet, there was no bow in his hands.

Did he drop it in the fall?

The air went still.

Is this how he'd die?

Him, a transmigrator, without ever achieving anything?

No!

With frantic desperation, Lin reached for the survival knife strapped to his side.

He slashed upward, the blade sinking deep into the moose's neck as it closed the distance.

Hot and thick blood sprayed across his face, stinging his eyes.

The King Moose staggered back, roaring in pain, and Lin pressed forward. There was no hesitation, no fear—only the desperate need to survive.

He lunged forward and stabbed through the opening between the moose's antlers.

The creature let out a guttural roar and knocked him back before collapsing.

Pulling his sore body off the muddy ground, he wiped the blood from his eyes and stood up.

His hands trembled and his chest heaved with exhaustion while the reality of what had just happened hit him like a wave.

He hadn't just survived; he'd won.

He looked at the golden antlers of the dead King Moose, a strange sense of disbelief washing over him.

It all happened so quick, he almost couldn't believe it.

It was only now that he remembered that King Mooses have soft skulls, they're designed to withstand extreme vibrations from ramming with their antlers, not stabbing.

It was no wonder he could plunge the knife straight in to kill it instantly.

Lin immediately understood that this is what his father always meant when he said you could never prepare enough.

He wasn't prepared for such a scenario and failed to make proper judgments.

Had he swiftly reacted and created a strategy utilizing the King Moose's weakness, he wouldn't have been put in such a precarious situation.

No, he should have formulated the plan before he even ran into the moose. Although uncommon, it's not unheard of for territorial beasts to roam outside their territory.

Kneeling down, Lin carefully inspected the corpse of the King Moose.

Its golden antlers gleamed in the fading light as he skillfully cut them free. The rest of the carcass was too heavy to take alone and would attract predators quickly, but the antlers—those were valuable.

Practically running back through the shortest route home, Lin couldn't help but laugh.

He had faced death and came out victorious. What would his parent's expressions be when he brought home King Moose antlers?

His face beamed with a smile just thinking about it.

After nearly an hour of trekking back home, the sky had shifted into twilight, displaying the long amount of time he had been hunting today.

He took a quick detour to wash off the blood in a nearby lake before continuing home.

The memory of his mother nearly fainting the last time he returned, bloodied from a botched attempt at skinning a deer he couldn't carry, was still fresh in his mind.

Finally arriving at the sight of the crude wooden fence surrounding a log cabin and shed, Lin's eyebrows wrinkled.

What happened to the front gate?

It was completely busted in, like somebody had kicked it down.

Was his father remodeling? It didn't make sense—his father would never leave something half-done, let alone this mess.

Then the smell hit him.

A sharp, metallic tang that made his stomach twist.

How could Lin—an experienced hunter—not know what this smell was?

Blood.

And this wasn't the faint stench of the King Moose that was still lingering on him.

In an instant, he dashed to the front door which was smashed through before he even arrived.

...

The joy of a proud achievement drained from his face as the golden antlers dropped to the ground with a thud.

In the front hall, sprawled across the floor in a pool of blood, lay the dead bodies of his parents.

How long did he stand there, frozen in shock?

Their wounds were so grievous that he could not dare imagine how the perpetrator went about inflicting them.

It couldn't have been a beast, there were no bite or claw marks.

His mind spun, yet no thoughts appeared, the silence of the cabin was deafening.

It was only when he realized that he didn't see the body of his little sister that he woke up and began tearing through the cabin in search of her.

"Lei! Lei!"

He frantically checked the cellar, the shed, and even the hidden compartment under the shed floor, yet there were no signs of her anywhere.

She wasn't here. But she wasn't dead. There was no blood—no sign of her body.

Could she have run away?

He looked back at his dead parents, both inside when the attack happened.

Impossible.

Even if she did manage to escape, how far could she run? Lin knew better, there was no way she could outrun an adult, especially one as vicious as someone who would murder so cruelly.

So he could only come to a single conclusion: She's been taken.

"Damn it!" Lin's voice cracked as he dropped to his knees, fists pounding the wooden floor. "Damn it all!"

For several agonizing minutes, he stayed there, shoulders shaking as the pain devoured him. But when he finally lifted his head, his expression was different—serious, a deep wrath that completely contrasted with his childlike face.

He slowly stood up, carefully inspecting the scene.

The wounds were sharp and sliced, whoever did this must have been armed.

Furthermore, upon closer inspection, his father had managed to grab the emergency axe they always left at the front door, but it was snapped in half.

His expression tightened, the attacker was strong.

It should be known that his father was not a weak and timid individual, to slay him so easily must mean they knew at least basic martial arts.

The axe head didn't even have a blood stain on it, his father either didn't have time to pull off a proper swing, or a proper swing wasn't even enough to counter the enemy.

Perhaps it was even more than one assailant.

Kneeling down and touching the blood, it was cold but hadn't fully hardened yet, which was surprising, because blood dries fairly quickly when exposed to the air, the event probably had happened less than an hour ago.

He moved outside the cabin and began carefully inspecting the paths through the mountain.

Within just a mere 5 minutes, he discovered multiple sets of unfamiliar footprints and broken twigs—careless movements, as if they didn't expect anyone to follow.

"Arrogant bastards"

A fiery look appeared in Lin's eyes as he gazed at the path the killers had taken.

They'd regret ever being so careless, he'd make sure of it.