[The Echo of War]
The horn's mournful cry hung in the air, reverberating through the trees like the final toll of a funeral bell.
Andrew's breath hitched. The distant thunder of footsteps grew louder, rattling through the forest floor. The vibrations seeped into his bones, setting his nerves on edge.
Something big was coming.
His grip tightened around the stolen dagger, the rough handle slick with sweat and scavenger blood. Every instinct in his body screamed one word—
RUN.
But where?
The dense canopy overhead blocked any view of the landscape beyond. The undergrowth was thick, tangled with roots and thorns. He had no idea where civilization—if it even existed—could be found.
A single thought gripped his mind:
If I stay here, I die.
He moved.
[A Desperate Escape]
Andrew sprinted through the forest, weaving between thick trees and ducking under low-hanging branches. His Shadow Step flickered to life, his body momentarily slipping into the darkness, making him faster—lighter.
[SHADOW STEP ACTIVATED.]
[SPEED +30% FOR 2 SECONDS.]
He shot forward like a bullet, his feet barely touching the ground.
The moment the effect faded, he pushed himself harder, breathing ragged but controlled.
Behind him, the forest erupted.
A wave of creatures broke through the trees. At least two dozen, their twisted forms illuminated by the eerie glow of their crimson eyes.
They weren't just scavengers.
Some were larger, armored in bony plating. Others moved on all fours, their elongated limbs and gaping maws far too monstrous to be human.
But worst of all—
Leading the pack was a giant.
At least four meters tall, its massive form covered in crude armor made of stitched leather and metal scraps. Its skin was the color of rotting flesh, stretched tight over bulging muscles. In its right hand, it dragged a jagged cleaver the size of a car door, carving trenches into the ground as it moved.
A Raid Chief.
Andrew didn't need a system notification to know one thing:
He wasn't winning this fight.
[The Dead-End]
Branches whipped against his skin as he pushed forward, the roars of the horde closing in behind him.
Then—his worst fear.
The trees suddenly gave way to a sheer cliff.
Andrew skidded to a stop, pebbles tumbling over the edge into the abyss below. His heart pounded as he glanced down—a river, narrow and raging, carved its way through the rocky canyon far beneath.
A fall like that would kill him.
He spun back just in time to see the first scavenger leap.
No time to think.
His body moved.
Andrew ducked under its attack, grabbed its arm mid-air, and used its own momentum to hurl it over the edge.
The creature let out a bone-chilling scream as it plummeted, swallowed by the rapids below.
Two more lunged forward. Andrew pivoted, his stolen dagger flashing—slitting one's throat and kicking the other back into the mass of monsters behind it.
But the horde wasn't stopping.
The Raid Chief stepped forward, lifting its cleaver high.
Andrew had seconds.
His mind raced.
Fight? He'd be crushed in an instant.
Run? No escape.
Jump? ...Would the system save him?
A single line appeared in his vision.
[Survivor's Instinct Activated.]
Andrew's eyes locked onto a specific section of the river below—a deep, dark pool amidst the jagged rocks.
His gut twisted. The only way out… was down.
The cleaver fell.
Andrew jumped.
[The Plunge]
The world blurred. Wind roared in his ears. His stomach lurched as gravity yanked him downward.
For a moment, he was weightless.
Then—impact.
The icy grip of the river swallowed him whole.
The shock of the cold nearly stopped his heart. The current ripped him through the water, spinning him violently as if the river itself was trying to consume him.
His lungs burned. He flailed, searching for the surface—
A jagged rock loomed ahead.
Move!
Andrew barely twisted his body in time, the stone grazing his shoulder as the current threw him forward.
His lungs screamed for air. His vision darkened.
Then—his head broke the surface.
Air. Precious air.
He gasped, coughing out water as he was carried further downstream.
His body ached. His limbs were heavy. But he was alive.
And for now, that was enough.
[A New Discovery]
The river eventually slowed, its once-violent waters easing into a calmer flow. Andrew managed to grab onto a low-hanging branch, pulling himself toward the shore.
Every muscle in his body protested. His arms shook as he dragged himself onto the riverbank, collapsing onto the damp earth.
His breath came in ragged gulps. His mind was spinning.
Then—a notification.
[STATUS UPDATED.]
[LEVEL 3 REACHED.]
[NEW TRAIT ACQUIRED: WATER ADAPTATION – Rank 1]
Allows better breath control and increased movement in water environments.
Andrew exhaled slowly. He was growing stronger just by surviving.
He pushed himself upright, scanning his surroundings.
The terrain had changed. The forest was denser here, the trees older, their massive roots snaking across the ground like the veins of some ancient beast. Strange, bioluminescent plants pulsed softly in the undergrowth, casting eerie blue and green hues across the shadows.
It felt… untouched. Sacred.
And then—
A flicker of light in the distance.
Andrew tensed. Not the pale glow of the plants. Not the piercing red of scavenger eyes.
This was different.
A campfire.
His pulse quickened.
For the first time since arriving in this world, he wasn't alone.
But was that a good thing?
[The Stranger]
Carefully, he approached, keeping to the shadows. The flickering glow illuminated a small clearing, where a lone figure sat beside the fire.
A woman.
She was sharpening a long, curved blade with steady, practiced movements. Her silver hair glowed faintly in the firelight, her face partially concealed beneath a dark hood.
But what caught Andrew's attention was the armor she wore. Sleek. Fitted. Not crude like the scavengers'. This was crafted. Purposeful.
A warrior.
Andrew's breath slowed.
Then—she stopped.
Without looking up, she spoke.
"I was wondering when you'd show yourself."
Andrew froze.
Her grip on the blade didn't tighten. Her voice remained calm. But there was something undeniable in her tone.
A quiet, lethal confidence.
And something else.
Amusement.
Andrew took a slow step forward, his mind racing.
Was she friend?
Or another hunter?