Traebus arrived back at his small riverside nook, arms full of kindling and nerves still frayed from the jungle’s ever-present, unseen threats. He dropped the bundle of twigs and branches in a rough pile, stretching his sore arms before cracking his knuckles. "Alright. Fire. Should be simple enough, right? Just a little controlled energy, and boom—warmth, safety, no lizards trying to eat my face."
Of course, there was the small issue of his magic being about as controllable as an angry bull in a glassware shop.
He crouched beside the pile and took a deep breath, reaching inward for that strange, primal mana. The moment he tapped into it, his body tensed, muscles locking as the wild energy surged through him. He clenched his fists, trying to force just a tiny amount toward the firewood. Not a lightning bolt. Not an explosion. Just a small, friendly spark.
A bright arc of unstable energy snapped from his fingertips, bypassing the kindling entirely and striking a nearby rock with a sharp crack! The stone glowed red-hot for a moment before a loud pop sent shards flying in every direction. Traebus threw himself backward, arms flailing. "That was not the plan!"
Groaning, he brushed dust off his coat and glared at the still unlit firewood. "Okay, round two. This time, less ''random destruction'' and more ''gentle warmth,'' please."
With a slow, careful breath, he channeled the energy again—this time, pushing against its natural chaos, trying to shape it, control it. A flicker of heat danced across his palm, and for a second, he thought he had it. Then, in the blink of an eye, the entire pile whoomphed into a raging bonfire, the sudden burst of heat nearly singing his eyebrows off.
He stumbled back, shielding his face, the wave of heat washing over him like an overenthusiastic greeting from the sun. "Success? I mean… yes? I have fire. Could I have less fire? Absolutely. But for once, I’m not the man on fire, so I’m counting this as a personal victory."
He patted himself down just to be sure, confirming that, miraculously, nothing was currently smoldering. "Well, I guess you could say I''m really burning through my problems now." If there had been an observer of any kind they would have laughed at his struggles. He was sure of it.
Settling onto a rock a safe distance away, he let out a long sigh, watching the flames dance as he tried to ignore the lingering tingling in his fingers. "At least if anything tries sneaking up on me tonight, I can just… wave at them and hope I don’t blow myself up in the process."
Exhaustion finally won out over paranoia, and Traebus let his body sink onto the softest patch of earth he could find. He stared up at the dark sky, the strange stars shimmering through the gaps in the jungle canopy. The warmth of the fire flickered against his skin, and for the first time since waking up in this bizarre world, he let his eyelids droop.
Sleep came fitfully, broken by the occasional distant screech or rustling leaves, but eventually, he drifted into unconsciousness.
Sometime in the night, his eyes snapped open.
His breath was slow, measured, but his heart pounded against his ribs. Something had woken him—something—but his mind couldn''t grasp what it had been. There was no immediate sound, no crunch of footsteps, no heavy breathing from some unseen predator. Just the steady crackling of his fire and the endless hum of the jungle.
He remained perfectly still, barely daring to move a muscle, every nerve in his body on edge. His fingers twitched toward his spear, his instincts screaming that something was out there. Watching. Waiting.
Then, the faintest rustle of leaves. A whisper of movement so light, so deliberate, that if he hadn''t been holding his breath, he might have missed it entirely.
His eyes flicked toward the jungle’s edge, where the flickering firelight barely reached. The undergrowth parted ever so slightly, shifting unnaturally—fluid, graceful, almost like water rippling around an unseen force. Whatever it was, it moved with a dancer’s precision, each step deliberate, each pause calculated.
Then, out of the gloom, a sleek figure emerged—a predator sculpted by nature for perfection. It was low to the ground, its slender frame coiled with lean muscle beneath a hide of iridescent scales, their sheen shifting like polished metal under the firelight. A long, sinuous tail swayed behind it, counterbalancing its every movement.
Its head, narrow and angular, was adorned with a ridge of fine, almost feather-like filaments that trembled with every breath. But it was the eyes that held him—large, predatory, and far too intelligent. They gleamed like molten gold, locked onto him with the kind of unsettling focus that only a creature at the very top of its food chain could possess.
It was beautiful. Beautiful and utterly, terrifyingly lethal.
Traebus swallowed hard, his throat suddenly feeling much drier than it had a moment ago. He had seen predators before—big, lumbering things that announced their presence with bone-shaking roars and thunderous footsteps. But this? This wasn’t some brute force monster charging through the brush. This was something calculated.
The way it moved—silent, controlled, every step intentional—sent a deep, primal chill through him. This thing wasn’t just hunting; it was studying him, gauging the distance, measuring its approach. It wasn’t coming in teeth-first like a mindless beast. No, it was moving with the eerie confidence of something that knew it was at the top of the food chain—and was now deciding whether he was worth the trouble of eating.
Then, it moved closer.
Silent, precise, its body shifted with a deadly elegance, slipping forward with the ghostly patience of a seasoned killer. Each step barely disturbed the jungle floor, its weight distributed so perfectly that even the dry leaves underfoot remained undisturbed. The firelight cast its shimmering scales in an eerie, mesmerizing glow, the metallic sheen flickering between hues of deep bronze and emerald green.
Traebus remained frozen, barely breathing, as the creature lowered its head ever so slightly, its golden eyes locked onto him with unwavering intensity. Its tail hovered just above the ground, adjusting its balance as it moved—a sign of expert control, a dancer''s grace blended with a hunter''s intent.
Then, with a slow, measured shift, its hind legs tensed, lowering its body closer to the ground. Traebus’ pulse hammered in his ears as recognition struck like a lightning bolt.
That was a pouncing stance.
His muscles tightened, his fingers twitching toward his spear, knowing full well that if this thing decided to strike, his weapon might as well be a twig against a hurricane. His brain screamed at him to move, but his body, overwhelmed by the sheer primal terror of being prey, refused to obey.
"Oh, this is going to hurt," he muttered under his breath, eyes flicking between the creature and the safest route his legs might still remember how to use.
With a jolt of pure, unfiltered survival instinct, Traebus rolled onto his side and sprang to his feet, his body moving before his brain had time to catch up. "Nope, nope, nope! I refuse to be jungle breakfast!" he yelped, launching himself toward his spear in a mad scramble. His boots barely found traction as he lunged forward, arms outstretched, fingers grasping desperately for the weapon.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The predator reacted instantly.
A blur of shimmering scales shot toward him, the rush of displaced air slamming against his back an instant before dagger-like claws raked the ground where he had just been. The sheer force of its lunge sent leaves, embers, and loose dirt flying in all directions. The firelight caught its sleek, coiled frame mid-pounce, illuminating a predator perfectly engineered for speed, power, and murder.
His fingers barely closed around the rough shaft of his makeshift spear before his momentum carried him into an ungraceful roll. His shoulder slammed into the dirt, sending a sharp jolt of pain down his arm.
With no time to think, Traebus scrambled to his feet and swung the spear wildly in front of him, more for show than actual strategy. "Back! Back, you scaly assassin! I''m armed and very bad at using this thing!" He jabbed the spear toward the creature, which responded by effortlessly sidestepping, its molten-gold eyes watching him with what he swore was amusement.
The two began circling the fire, each step measured, their movements mirroring one another in an eerie, instinctive rhythm. Traebus shifted his grip on the spear, trying to keep the flames between himself and his would-be murderer. The predator, in turn, lowered itself ever so slightly, its muscles coiling with the promise of another strike. Every few steps, it feinted forward, testing him, forcing him to react—forcing him to move.
"Oh, we''re dancing now, huh? Fine. I’ll lead!" he barked, thrusting the spear forward in a desperate jab. The creature swayed back effortlessly, tail flicking as it realigned itself. "Okay, not my best footwork, but you try doing this on no sleep and sheer terror!"
The fire crackled between them, casting long, twisting shadows as the deadly waltz continued. One misstep—one wrong move—and Traebus knew the next thing to hit the ground would be him.
The predator struck.
With terrifying speed, it lunged low, aiming for his legs, its claws slicing through the air with lethal precision. Traebus barely managed to twist out of the way, feeling the rush of displaced air as he swung his spear in a desperate arc. The tip of the crude weapon glanced off the creature’s shoulder, drawing a thin line of dark, glistening blood. It barely flinched.
Then it was his turn.
The raptor-like beast twisted and struck again, this time from the side, forcing Traebus to stumble back, nearly tripping over his own fire pit. He swung again, this time with more force, but the creature ducked beneath the blow with eerie ease, its tail snapping out and striking him square in the ribs.
The impact sent him sprawling onto the ground, the spear slipping from his grasp. He barely had time to register the pain before the creature was on him, claws flashing in the firelight. He twisted just in time, rolling away as one razor-sharp talon gouged into the dirt where his chest had been a second earlier.
"Alright! Not my best plan!" he gasped, scrambling for his weapon. He grabbed the spear and got quickly to his feet.
The beast circled him again, slower this time, as if amused by his struggling. Its golden eyes flickered with something almost like curiosity before its muscles coiled for another pounce.
Traebus gritted his teeth, gripping his spear with white-knuckled desperation. "Fine, round two then. Let’s see if I can at least annoy you before I get eaten.
The creature struck again, this time faster, harder, its razor-sharp claws flashing in the firelight. Traebus braced, thrusting his spear forward, but the predator was already twisting mid-air. Its powerful hind legs kicked out, striking the shaft of his weapon and sending it spinning from his grip.
"Oh, come on! That took me forever to make!" he yelped as the spear clattered uselessly to the side.
Before he could scramble after it, the raptor-like beast pressed forward, forcing him to backpedal until he stumbled over a rock and crashed onto his back. The creature loomed over him, its golden eyes narrowing, its jaw parting just enough to reveal rows of serrated teeth that gleamed in the fire’s glow. Its talons flexed, ready to pin him down for the killing blow.
Traebus, now entirely out of clever ideas, did the only thing his instincts would allow.
He kicked it right between the legs.
The reaction was immediate. The predator let out a strangled, breathy hrkk, its whole body seizing as its pupils contracted into tiny pinpricks. For a single, glorious moment, all was still.
Then the creature let out a wheezing, strangled screech, its entire body locking up as though it had been struck by the wrath of an angry god. Its golden eyes bulged, pupils contracting to tiny pinpricks, as a shudder ran through its sleek frame. For a single, glorious moment, all was still.
Then, with an almost comedic lack of grace, it stumbled backward, legs wobbling as if its brain had temporarily disconnected from the rest of its body. It made an awkward half-circle, tail dragging in the dirt, claws twitching uselessly as it struggled to process what had just happened to it. One hind leg lifted slightly off the ground, as though some primal part of its instincts was trying to register damage it had never expected to take.
Traebus, still flat on his back, blinked at his own survival. "Oh. Oh wow. That worked. I mean—of course it worked. Oldest trick in the book." He groaned and rolled to his side. "Guess you weren’t expecting that on the menu tonight, huh?"
Seeing his moment, Traebus lunged for his discarded spear, fingers scraping against the rough wood as he snatched it up. He rolled onto his knees, pivoting just as the raptor shook off its daze, its furious golden eyes snapping back to him with a renewed hunger. It snarled, baring serrated teeth, its body coiling to strike once more.
"Oh no, we’re not doing this again!" he snapped, and with all the force he could muster, he drove the spear forward. The jagged stone tip struck deep into the predator’s shoulder, tearing through the iridescent scales with a sickening crunch.
The raptor let out an ear-splitting screech, rearing back in pain. Its muscles trembled violently as it staggered, tail lashing wildly. It locked eyes with him again—this time not with hunger, but with fury and pain.
Then, with a final, piercing cry, it whipped around and darted back into the jungle, disappearing into the darkness as quickly as it had emerged, leaving only the rustling leaves and the pounding of Traebus'' own heart in its wake.
Panting, still gripping his bloodied spear, he swallowed hard. "And stay out!" He slumped onto his back, staring at the sky. "I swear, if I survive another day of this, I''m giving myself an award."
But sleep wasn''t coming back to him. Not after that. His nerves were shot, his muscles still tensed for another attack that, logically, he knew wasn’t coming—at least, not yet. He sat upright, staring at the flickering embers of his fire, spear still clutched tightly in his grip.
Every rustle of the wind through the leaves, every distant howl or insect chirp made his pulse spike. He wasn''t going to risk letting his guard down again tonight. Instead, he pulled his knees to his chest and let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Guess I''m pulling an all-nighter. Again. This is how people go crazier, you know," he muttered to himself.
The jungle continued to breathe around him, dark and unknowable, but the raptor did not return. Still, he kept the fire burning bright, feeding it sticks whenever it dimmed, unwilling to let the shadows grow too long.
At some point, the deep black of the night softened, shifting to a muted gray. The distant horizon beyond the trees lightened ever so slightly, chasing away the oppressive darkness. The jungle, once a sinister mass of unseen dangers, slowly revealed itself in the approaching dawn. The river shimmered in the growing light, its surface reflecting golden hues as the first rays of the sun began creeping over the landscape.
Traebus exhaled, the tension in his chest loosening just a fraction. He had made it through the night. Somehow. But as the golden hues of dawn began creeping over the horizon, illuminating the river’s surface with a soft glow, he knew one thing for certain—this camp wasn’t going to cut it for much longer.
He shifted on the cold ground, stretching his sore limbs, his mind already cycling through his next move. This nook by the river had served its purpose, but last night’s attack proved it wasn’t nearly as secure as he’d hoped. He needed higher ground, better vantage points, maybe even some kind of natural barrier to funnel threats into one direction. Something defensible.
And more than anything, he needed his magic to work.
That raptor had nearly gutted him, and his spear—while effective in a pinch—wasn''t going to cut it against bigger threats. Without proper control over the wild mana in this world, he was just another piece of meat waiting to be chewed up by something faster, stronger, and more naturally equipped to survive. If he didn’t figure out how to channel this world’s energy properly, he wasn’t just at a disadvantage—he was doomed.
His fingers flexed unconsciously, still tingling from his earlier failed attempts. He had brute-forced fire into existence, but that was sheer luck, not mastery. If he wanted to live, he needed to move past accidental combustion and actually learn to wield this primal magic before it killed him—or before something else did.
He clenched his jaw, eyes scanning the landscape as the morning light painted the river in shades of gold. "New plan," he muttered. "Step one: find a better base. Step two: stop being magic’s chew toy and figure out how to use this stuff before it gets me killed. Step three... figure out if I even have a step three."
His eyes traced the water’s edge, watching the gentle current carry fallen leaves downstream. Water meant life, and if there was civilization anywhere in this wild land, it would be following the same logic. He’d stick to the river, search for a better camp—preferably one that didn’t involve fighting off prehistoric nightmares in the dead of night.
With a groan, he pushed himself upright and cast one last glance at the remains of his fire. The embers still smoldered, wisps of smoke curling into the crisp morning air. This place had served him well, but it was time to move.