Day 3


    Fast forward. It had already been three days since the day of my new life in that fantasy world, and up until that point, nothing had unfolded as it would in great adventures from the books I had read. I settled in Murkwell Town, a small settlement situated between hills and dense forests. However, unlike the brilliant, clean towns in those fantasy stories, Murkwell was... a mess. The streets were far from the pristine paths I''d imagined.


    Instead, they were covered with mud, filth, and, well, the stench of waste. Every day, people walked through the muck, some barefoot and others in tattered shoes. Their expressions were always grumpy. The air smelled of sweat and unwashed bodies every time I stepped outside! This wasn''t the grand medieval fantasy I expected. It was a gritty, raw world where survival came at a cost.


    Luckily, I had found a job—not in some glamorous tavern or as a knight''s squire, but as an assistant to a hunter named Kelby. He was a tall man with a permanent scar etched on his face, his clothes patched and stained from years of hunting in the wild. He spoke little but taught me what he knew about hunting and survival.


    For the past few days, I had been hauling arrows, skinning animals, and butchering meat. The work was hard but paid enough for me to consider thinking about the future. At least enough for me to dream of saving enough money to venture beyond this town and write about my journeys in a journal so that I could tell the world. Maybe, just maybe, I could leave behind this filth and discover places worthy of stories. For the time being, it was sweat and hard labor only.


    As we walked deeper into the woods with my bow slung across my back, my mind kept drifting to the wish I had made when I stood before that strange god: unmatched strength. Wasn''t that my wish? Yet, here I was, struggling with tasks that any average person could handle. Was I scammed?


    "Stop daydreaming and keep up," Mr. Kelby said, snapping me out of my reverie. "Yes, sir," I replied. I could not afford to slack off if I was going to keep this job and collect my paycheck. Unfortunately, the hunt was not a great success. My aim could have been better. Some of the arrows missed their mark, and some hits were not clean, leaving the animals writhing.


    Still, I shot a few deer and rabbits. "Not bad," Mr. Kelby gruffly said, slinging a deer carcass over his shoulder. "Let''s take these back to the village." Just in time, a loud roar from the woods made me freeze. A gigantic brown bear had emerged from the woods. The enormous frame it had cast threatened like a nightmare.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    It reared on its hind legs while its snarling maw and razor-sharp claws were entirely out. At this point, my blood turned to ice due to fear. "Take the carcasses and run!" Mr. Kelby yelled as he drew his bow and stepped between me and the beast. I immediately snatched the nearest carcasses.


    My adrenaline gave me the strength to pull the sacks and sprint. I heard Kelby''s roars and yells behind me as I ran, but I did not care to look back. Chances are that the blood drew the bear to our scent, and I would stay there to find out how it was going to end.


    Bursting into Murkwell, breathless and wild-eyed, I stumbled into the tavern where two of Mr. Kelby''s hunter friends were drinking. "Help! Mr. Kelby''s in trouble! A bear attacked us in the forest!" I choked out. By then, I was tired, and my throat was parched. I felt my heart was about to go right out of my mouth. The men grabbed their bows and followed me back to the forest.


    We finally found Mr. Kelby lying on the ground, bleeding. There were deep gashes across his chest and arms as the bear towered over him, growling menacingly. It was a terrifying scene. "Mr. Kelby! I brought backup!" I yelled, though my voice cracked. The hunters did not hesitate and began taking aim. Arrows flew through the air, and one hit the bear in the eye.


    It then let out a roar, thrashing wildly before retreating into the forest''s shadows. I quickly rushed to Mr. Kelby''s side to see if he was still alive. Sure enough, he is. "You''re one stubborn bastard," one of the hunters muttered, half-laughing as they began patching him up.


    That night, I sat on the creaky wooden bed in the dimly lit inn, but I could not help but remember how I had run all the way back to Murkwell while pulling heavy carcasses behind me in a few seconds. Even now, my arms and legs do not ache as they should have after such a feat.


    Sure, adrenaline can make a person do crazy things. But this. This was something else. My body wasn''t like that of an athlete. I''d hardly done anything more physically taxing than running to catch the bus. And yet, somehow, in that moment of panic, I had moved with a speed and strength that defied reason. Could it be…? My wish may have been granted after all.


    But if that was true, why hadn''t I felt it until now? And why didn''t it seem constant? My daily struggles were not sudden bursts of invincibility or overwhelming strength. Everything felt normal—until it didn''t. If god had indeed granted my wish, how did this power work? Did it need to be triggered by something? Was it tied to danger or desperation?


    I didn''t know—not yet—but I had to figure it out. If this strength were real, I couldn''t afford to waste it. This world was dangerous, and next time, there would not be anyone to save me like Mr. Kelby had. Then, I looked at the journal on the small table beside the bed. I picked it up, flipped a blank page, and started writing about what happened that day.