The young man bent down and picked up a cold stone. As he rubbed the stone against the shaft of his spear, faint cracks echoed. Each movement was sharp and fast. As the spear's tip grew sharper, tiny fissures appeared on the surface of the wood. Yet, he paid no attention to any of them, continuing his work. His eyes were fixed on the point where the stone met the wood.
While his hands worked, his mind involuntarily drifted back to two days ago. That cold night, the struggle for survival resurfaced before his eyes.
Two Days Ago:
The air was filled with a sharp cold. The young man trudged forward with heavy steps on the snowy ground. The snow beneath his feet crunched with every step, and with each footfall, he took a deep breath. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, the sharpness of the cold reminding him of his weakness.
Suddenly, a howl pierced the silence. It echoed from deep within the dark forest. The young man paused for a moment, listening intently. His eyes scanned the shadows of the forest. Then, a rustle... and another.
He realized something was approaching. His heart quickened. "Wolves..." he whispered to himself.
He turned and quickened his pace. But the snow slowed his escape. Before long, he saw eyes surrounding him. Bright, crimson eyes. Sharp teeth gleamed beneath them. Four wolves silently took their positions. They were hunters; he was the prey.
One wolf lunged suddenly. The young man raised his spear and swung it swiftly. The sharp tip cut through the air and struck the wolf. But with a leap, the wolf escaped. The others moved into action. He was not alone in the darkness, but he was by himself.
One wolf attacked from behind. The young man turned, but he wasn't fast enough. As the teeth sank into his arm, a sharp pain shot through him. His scream echoed through the forest's darkness. He quickly raised his spear and swung with all his might. The wooden spear pierced the wolf's skull, and the sound of cracking bones rang out.
Blood mixed with the cold air. The wolf collapsed to the ground, its body lying still. The remaining wolves hesitated for a moment, but quickly resumed their attack.
Another wolf leapt toward him. This time, the young man was more cautious. He held his spear like a true fighter and swung it, locking its tip onto his target. The spear pierced the wolf's neck, and the crack of flesh and bone was heard. The wolf crumpled to the ground with a whimper.
But the young man's strength was waning. His breath had quickened, and his body began to shake from the cold and exhaustion. Another wolf lunged at him. This time, he caught it just in time, driving his spear into its stomach. Blood splattered onto the snow. The wolf struggled for a moment before falling still.
The young man's eyes searched the darkness for another wolf. But the attack had ended. The surviving members of the pack disappeared into the shadows.
Present Time:
The young man stopped sharpening the tip of his spear and began to gaze out into the dark and restless forest.
Those who followed him were the remaining members of the wolf pack. The earlier battle had been nothing short of a fight for survival. He had only managed to kill one wolf without injury, and that had been by sheer luck. His breathing was still erratic; the traces of the chase were fresh in both his body and mind.
The young man slowly stepped out from the cool, safe shadow of the cave. The howls of the wolves that had echoed through the night still rang in his ears. The distant sounds of battle and clashes only made the danger in the air even more apparent. Surviving here was unthinkable for an ordinary person. And for someone like him, who had yet to manifest his spirit tree, he knew all too well what would happen if he encountered another wolf pack.
He took each step cautiously. As he moved through the dark forest, he gripped his spear tightly. It was both a reassuring habit and a natural reflex against danger. However, the wound on his right arm continued to throb painfully. If he were to encounter an enemy, he knew he wouldn't last long in his wounded state. Furthermore, he had never faced such a situation before. As a newly formed being, how could he heal his wound on his own? It was certain that he needed someone's help, but finding anyone to offer assistance in this desolate forest was nearly impossible.
After a tiring walk of about half an hour, he finally reached the edge of a small lake. As his feet neared the water, the coolness hit his face. He bent down to drink deeply from the lake, quenching his thirst. The cold water brought a bit of refreshment and strength.
After catching his breath, he lifted his head and looked up at the sky. The darkness of the night was slowly giving way to the first light of morning. The sun began to rise timidly from the horizon. It was the beginning of a new day.
After a short pause, the young man stood up again. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he gripped his spear tightly and continued his search for a safe shelter. The early hours of the morning gradually swept away the dense darkness of the night. Thin rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a faint golden hue over the forest, and long shadows danced, making the path ahead even more mysterious.
He walked for about another hour. His steps slowed, and his breath became more labored. Finally, the dense canopy of trees gave way to a more open area. Before him stretched a vast meadow. A thin mist rose from the ground, reflecting the morning light along with the snow, making the scene both enchanting and unsettling. In the silence, even the soft crunch of his footsteps on the snow seemed unnaturally loud in his ears.
At that moment, he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. In the distance, a vague figure was slowly moving through the mist. The young man froze and held his breath, turning his gaze toward the figure. As the figure came closer, its shape became clearer. A long dress, gently swaying in the wind, and a strange structure on its back that seemed made of thin branches... Was it a woman?
The woman continued walking slowly, her head slightly bowed. Her face, pale as moonlight, emerged from the mist. Her eyes, however, were unlike human eyes; they glowed with a deep gray light. He didn't need to think long to realize she was not human. Thin vines, resembling delicate threads, seemed to be alive, writhing on her arms as if moving with a rhythm, almost as though they were living.
"A new day has dawned, but your luck is still in the dark," the woman said. Her voice echoed deeply, like a whisper that imprinted directly into his mind, rather than spoken words. The young man couldn't tell if she was here as a threat or with some other intent. But he did notice her strangely focused gaze on his wounded arm; that look seemed to waver between helpfulness and threat.
Her words echoed in the meadow like an echo: "Come, let me help you... in exchange, you will be my dog."
The young man frowned and took a deep breath. As he tightly gripped his spear, his eyes briefly locked onto her gray-glowing gaze. He quickly looked away, startled. The woman's presence felt not just dangerous but like a mirror reflecting his own helplessness.
He felt the pain in his arm again; the wolf bite had pierced through his skin. The sweat running from his weakening body now made the wound feel warmer. That warmth gradually turned into a burning sensation. This was not a good sign. The likelihood of his blood becoming infected was high, and in that case, death would inevitably follow.
"I can't hunt an animal in this state," he thought. His eyes involuntarily scanned the meadow; the wide, snow-covered expanse and the mist revealed no signs of life. Even if he found the nearest food, he no longer had the strength to catch it. With hunger and infection working together, death had become inevitable.
The woman's words echoed in his mind: "You haven't even manifested your spirit tree… you're like a newborn cub."
For a moment, he considered that she might be right. He had yet to unlock any of his potential, a being merely tossed about, struggling to survive. "If I'm to stay in this world, I cannot remain weak," he thought to himself.
However, the woman's offer was a disturbing one. To be her dog. This meant not only physical surrender but spiritual surrender as well. Giving up his freedom, submitting to another's commands... The thought tied knots in his stomach. But what if he had no other choice?
"What if I refuse?" His eyes once again shifted to his wounded arm. It seemed the infection was spreading rapidly. If he didn't treat it, he might become immobilized in just a few days. In this state, he couldn't fight an enemy or even save himself. If he rejected the woman's help, a slow death awaited him.
A deep conflict began within him. He was torn between the desire to keep his freedom and the instinct to survive. He took a deep breath and looked at the woman.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice quiet but full of curiosity. "Why do you want to help me? This world doesn't allow for such kindness."
The woman responded with a mocking smile at the corner of her lips. "Kindness? I don't do kindness, child. I'm offering you a deal; your life in exchange for service. Everything has a price. If you want to manifest your spirit tree, you can't keep being alone in this world."
Her words sank deep into the young man. Yes, to remain alone and weak in this world meant death. Slowly, he lowered his head and took a deep breath. "It doesn't feel like my decision, but I have no choice," he thought. He felt the weight of the spear in his hands. To survive, he had to make this harsh choice.
He stared at the woman in silence for a moment. "I accept," the young man said, the words forced from his throat as if they were strangled. But deep inside, he knew that with this decision, a whole new path had opened before him.