Time passed slowly.
Kael couldn't tell how many days had passed since he awoke on the altar. Perhaps it had only been one, perhaps three.
All he knew was that his body was weakening.
The gnawing ache of hunger had taken hold, an unbearable emptiness growing in his stomach. His small muscles trembled, each movement a monumental effort.
The Ancient Forest was not a forgiving place. Food was scarce, and danger was everywhere.
Kael understood one thing: if he didn't learn to feed himself soon, he would die.
The silvery mist blanketed the forest floor, swirling softly around massive trees that loomed like ancient pillars. Kael, too small to run or climb, crawled slowly between the gnarled roots.
His eyes had adjusted to the dim light, and with time, he began to notice patterns in his surroundings.
Some leaves glowed faintly, their soft shimmer suggesting they might be edible. Tiny, luminous insects floated through the mist—small, weak, and possibly a source of nourishment. But the soil was marked with tracks, some small, others too large to ignore.
Kael's instincts sharpened.
If something small could live here, something larger was hunting it.
And he had no intention of being prey.
Kael spotted his first opportunity: a small, glowing insect resting on a blue leaf.
A Luminous Cricket, its delicate wings shimmering faintly.
It was small. Harmless.
Instinct surged through him—he had to catch it.
He lunged.
But the cricket leapt away in an instant, vanishing into the mist with an almost mocking speed.
Kael froze, frustration simmering beneath his exhaustion. He analyzed the failure, piecing together his mistakes. He'd been too loud, too hasty. The cricket had sensed him before he'd even moved.
Patience. That was the key.
He spotted another Luminous Cricket perched on a nearby root.
This time, Kael didn't move immediately. He waited, observing the insect as it flitted about, its tiny legs brushing against the leaf.
He calmed his breathing, slowing it until it was almost imperceptible. The chaotic energy that often surrounded him seemed to settle, aligning with his body.
And then he felt it—a subtle shift.
Something within him stirred, faint but undeniable.
His presence seemed to vanish into the mist, blending with the environment.
The cricket didn't notice him.
Kael lunged again, his small hands closing around it before it could react. The insect writhed in his grip, its soft glow flickering as it struggled.
He crushed it.
For the first time, Kael had hunted.
He stared at the cricket's broken form in his hand, hesitating.
In his past life, the thought of eating an insect would have been revolting. The very idea was unthinkable in the world he once knew.
But this was not that world.
He was no longer a human living in a world of comfort and civilization. Here, survival had no room for pride or hesitation.
Either he adapted... or he died.
Kael brought the cricket to his lips and ate.
The taste was bitter, the texture strange, but almost immediately, he felt a faint surge of energy ripple through his small body.
The Luminous Cricket wasn't just food—it was a source of spiritual energy.
It was enough to keep him alive. For now.
Kael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his sharp eyes scanning the forest around him. The faint glow of insects danced in the distance, scattered across the misty expanse.
There were more out there.
He would find them.
The ache of hunger no longer felt like a burden. It had become a goal. A drive.
Kael didn't want to simply survive. He wanted to grow stronger.
And strength didn't come from waiting for scraps to appear—it came from taking what was needed.
He would hunt.
And when the time came, the real predators of the forest would learn to fear him.