《Running Away Would be Much More Fun》


 Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life

    Victor sprinted through the woods, legs pistoning beneath him as branches wiped at him in his headlong flight. He didn¡¯t bother looking back; any delay could cost him his life and he already knew what was behind him. He felt a sharp pain across his shin and tumbled face first into the dirt. Picking himself up, Victor glanced at his leg. A nasty cut from its impact with a fallen branch oozed blood, stumbling back to his feet he felt relief as his leg held weight with no additional pain.


    A snarl sounded from behind him. Terrified, he whipped his head around to look for the beast. He only caught a distant blur of grey fur, as the wolf dashed back behind the trees. A renewed burst of fear surged through him as he raced forward, trying desperately to increase the distance between them. His leg ached and his lungs burned he desperately needed to find safety, a glance at a distant opening in the side of a rock wall revealed a small cave. Nothing more than a crack in the cliff face, he scampered in without hesitation, finding only darkness inside and making his way forward by touch.


    The rough walls of the narrow scraped and tore at him as he desperately forced his way deeper. His ragged breathing was the only sound in his ears in the cramped confines of the stone passage. Light had disappeared completely and it felt like he had gone deep under the ground even though he could only have gone a few dozen feet into the tunnel.


    Suddenly, he was out and stumbling into a wide open space. The cavern felt massive after the close confines of the tunnel but was only a few dozen paces across and half that in height. He could tell all this because a beam of light broke through the ceiling and lit the room with a soft radiance, giving the place a feeling of stillness like that of a chapel.


    As he scanned the room for an exit, Victor¡¯s eyes settled upon a still figure in the corner resting against the far wall. A soot black skeleton sat with its torso propped up against the wall. Across its legs laid a plain unrusted sword. The stillness of the place and the dramatic posing of the skeleton made him pause for a moment, but only that before a fearful look behind him sent him back to his feet and stumbling for the blade.


    If he could fit through the narrow tunnel then so could the wolf and he had no idea how long it would take to trace where he had gone. Reaching the skeleton he had a brief moment to take in the fact that the skull was definitely not human before reaching down, pushing the hand holding the leather grip to the side and picking up the sword.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Straightening up he felt a surge of dizziness as though he had stood up too fast and nearly fell over as a rushing sound filled his ears, but he pushed it down and turned to face the entrance of the tunnel. The sword felt easy in his hand, the cool leather grip solid and reassuring in his palm as he lifted it above his head to slice down at a moment''s notice. Victor did not realize that he had entered into a perfect fighting stance or he held the blade perfectly still above his head, a feat few novice swordsmen could accomplish, let alone one who had never held a sword in their life.


    Silence reigned as panting breaths slowly calmed and he waited, ears straining to catch the click of claws on stone that would herald the arrival of the wolf. Minutes that seemed like hours passed in agonizing suspense. Just as his arms began to shake from holding the heavy blade above his head, a faint sound came from the tunnel.


    A fresh surge of adrenaline steadied the blade and a calm voice at the back of his head seemed to whisper to him, planning for contingencies and events that might happen. Dodge, strike, retreat and attack, his options flitting behind his eyes clearly without distracting him from his goal. An image formed in Victor¡¯s head the coming fight, splitting into a number of paths that all lead to one point: a descending blade like an arc of silver.


    A pair of eyes appeared in the night, glowing low to the ground as the wolf approached, and with heartbeat fast and eyes steady, Victor waited. The wolf stepped into the light, sliding from the dark tunnel with the soft click of claws on stone. The was a moment of stillness as the animal took in the surroundings, its prey silent and unmoving before it, trapped in an enclosed room with it. For a moment it was wary that something had changed, that there had been an upset to the game of predator and prey, but the stillness was evidence of weakness and its legs tightened under it for the pounce and the kill.


    Victor saw the wolf tense its eye fixed upon him and was still, there was nothing else to do now but wait. The wolf would come and his strike would fall; Victor knew he would live or die by that strike.


    A blur of fur and teeth shot forward and a silver arc descended to meet it. The wet impact of blade on flesh and splitting bone filled the chamber. Then, there was silence.


    [For slaying an (Awakened wolf Lv1) you have earned one Achievement Point (AP)]


    In a dimly lit space sat a single ornate throne and on it sat a dark figure clad in dull crimson armor. The figure''s face was concealed beneath a full helm, but to those few who might have known it well the poise and arrogance of the figure was greatly diminished. Atop a throne of fused blades and broken armor, a despairing sigh was released.


    ¡°A single unawakened child! And a human one at that! I can¡¯t even possess this damned mortal?!¡±

 Chapter 2

    Chapter 2


    The coals of the fire crackled merrily and the occasional hiss of fat dripping onto them sent clouds of delicious smell wafting into the air. Victor sat with his back to the cliff face, the cave entrance a few feet to his right. Around him was a crude barricade of branches and fallen pines piled to ward off any easy approach to his small camp, his run in with the wolf having made him very cautious of the local wildlife. Within the small encirclement he had lit a fire and was now attempting to cook a crudely butchered piece of the wolf over the embers of the flame.


    Cooking was perhaps a generous term to use to describe the atrocity against cuisine that he was committing. But with a slightly flat rock being the most advanced cooking tool he had available, cutting mostly even strips of flesh on a hot stone was about as sophisticated as it would get.


    Meat alone was hardly a satisfying meal. Gamey meat even less so. And burnt meat without any seasoning even LESS less so; but as he had eaten nothing else since he arrived here, he shouldn¡¯t really complain. Much.


    The first bite was probably the worst, but hunger drove him on, and he learned to chew through the rough taste and texture. In between the bites of meat, Victor watched the treeline, eyes scanning for any movement in the shadows. Wolves were pack animals. He wasn¡¯t sure where the others were, but with how aggressive that one had been, there was no telling what the rest of them would do.


    But that was just one of the many concerns he had. Despite all the distractions that Victor had been dealing with, there was an ever mounting list of things that he couldn¡¯t continue to ignore; the confusion of his arrival through what could only have been a portal of some kind was hard enough to explain, but could be ascribed to a dream or drug fueled hallucination. The plants around him all seemed reasonable enough but none of them were species that he was familiar with. It had been a long time since he had done any wilderness survival training, but Victor still would have expected to recognize something. No, rather than that, the problem was that he WAS recognizing them, but then noticing details that were off. One too many tips on a maple leaf or the wrong shade of green to an oaks. Each on its own was a failure of memory but all together was forming an ever growing dread.


    Then there was the strange skeleton and the frighteningly aggressive wolf, each explainable on its own but added to the growing list they became a constant gnawing concern. And of course the elephant in the room was the strange voice that had appeared in his mind when he killed the wolf. Something about Achievement Points and awakening? He hadn¡¯t really been paying attention at the time and nothing he had done since had triggered a reaction.


    This can¡¯t be what I think it is, but none of the other possibilities make sense and an extended drug trip just doesn''t really fit. All this¡­ it¡¯s too real, too present.


    The setting sun provided urgency to his mood, if he was in some fantasy world then anything could be out there. The cave would be his best defence, with a number of branches piled in the entrance forming a tangle of twigs and leaves, there would be no chance of something coming in quietly. As he fumbled his way back into the now dark cavern he remembered two things about the space: the first was that he would be spending the night with that strange, black, and probably inhuman skeleton; the second was that it had a very uneven stone floor.


    An entirely unpleasant night¡¯s sleep later, Victor was once again outside the cave. Using pieces of his barricade he reignited the buried embers of last night¡¯s fire. The wolf¡¯s meat was mostly gone and would be rotted soon anyway, so he took the best of what was left and made a meal of it. Despite the poor fair and lack of a good night''s sleep he felt rather good; great in fact, like he had slept on a comfortable bed rather than in a dark cold cave.


    With renewed vigor, Victor quickly established his objectives for the day. The missions today were finding water, food, and people. Water was already located; a small stream splashed down the cliff about a hundred feet to the left of the cave. He just needed to gather and store it. Food was more variable, hopefully there would be something he could eat that was safer (and less gamey) to get than wolf meat. People were more difficult but simple in the end. With the stream right next to him, Victor just had to follow it until it became a river and he would find people. People always settle near rivers so heading downstream would work eventually, just so long as he could stay alive long enough.


    To that end, he realized he needed to be able to defend himself. Looking down at his sword, he winced at the dried blood that was smeared on the blade. This was the only weapon he had, and by far the best one he would get his hands on.


    Victor wiped a handful of leaves across the blade, hoping he wouldn¡¯t simply spread more blood and grime across the steel. He was certain it wasn¡¯t the best way to clean his sword, but he didn¡¯t have a better tool to work with. And he especially didn¡¯t want to use his own clothes. True, his current clothing wasn¡¯t anything special. And they weren¡¯t exactly clean either¡­ splattered bits of blood and guts and dirt everywhere- he made a mental note to wash them later when he got a chance. He was pretty filthy, Victor mused as he grasped a handful of sand and wiped down the blade.


    His hand tightened around the leather grip of the sword. Looking straight down the blade, he had to admit, it was surprisingly clean. His halfhearted attempts to wipe it had actually removed nearly all the blood and gore. The filth had slid off the blade like it was coated with some sort of nonstick surface. And the edge! Victor was reminded of how easily it cut the meat earlier. Still so very sharp, despite all the years it probably laid in the cave. Odd.


    Were all swords like that? Probably not, but as a novice he wasn¡¯t certain. He had never held a blade before, and it wasn¡¯t even an hour ago that he had to wield this one to kill a wolf! But looking at his sword right now, he recalled how surprised he was that he managed to survive that encounter. Back then, when Victor saw the beast slowly creep up, he somehow KNEW what he had to do. He wasn¡¯t certain how, but his gut seemed to tell him that he had to wait for just the right moment. And when the wolf lunged at him, he knew that was the moment.


    No¡­ it was more accurate to say he had KNOWN which moment to wait for. How was that possible?


    He lifted up the blade, holding it straight in front of him with both hands. Why did that stance feel so right before? Once more, he raised the sword right above his head, knees bent and arms steady this time. As Victor closed his eyes, he breathed in, laying still for naught but a moment before stepping forward and slicing downward.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    He breathed out and opened his eyes. At his feet he saw the branch he just chopped down; a clean cut that he barely even registered.


    ...


    Vertical slice. Step back, then slice downward again-


    No. That felt wrong.


    Large step forward with a vertical slice. Then, leaping back, swipe horizontally-


    Still not enough. Better this time, but somehow the movements felt¡­ incomplete?


    Breath in, Lunge forward with a vertical slice. Then, leap back with a swipe to the right, finally, stepping forward into a thrust.


    Victor was startled when his arms felt exhausted. He dropped to his knees and let out a groan his whole body felt like he had been working out for hours. He didn¡¯t know practicing with a sword was this tiring. No, in fact, he knew that it wasn¡¯t. He had barely been swinging the sword around for a few minutes and yet he could feel every muscle in his body aching.


    Swords were heavy, Victor realized as he sat by the fire once more. Maybe practicing with a piece of metal was too tough for him now. He forced himself up and picked up the branch he had chopped down. A bit crooked, but it should be good enough to practice with instead.


    Grasping it gently in his hand, he noted how light and thin it was. Concentrating, he breathed deep and closed his eyes.


    Vertical slice-


    Victor slapped the branch against his knee.


    Okay, one more time. Step forward and slice downward-


    His footing tripped up and he nearly stumbled.


    Alright, maybe skip a step. Jump backwards and-


    Victor fell back and stumbled, falling on his ass. Hard.


    ...what is happening right now.


    Groaning, he lifted his head up. His vision was blurry. As he started to see more clearly, his eyes settled on the sword, still laying on the ground by the fire. He glanced at the branch, then back at the sword. The branch again, then the sword. Victor¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°...no way¡±


    Picking the sword back up, he immediately managed to settle into what seemed like a central stance.


    Well now where did that thought come from?


    Taking a deep breath again, he began going through a few slow swipes trying to identify that feeling, that sense of certainty, that he always felt when he held the sword. Somehow, something was occuring. He wasn¡¯t sure, but with each guided swing, Victor felt himself rotating into another strike, each swipe swinging into the next motion. It was¡­ it was like he was walking down a halfpipe, he could deviate a bit but would fall back into the center unless he specifically tried to escape. But, you know, with¡­ a sword? It didn¡¯t make a lot of sense but that¡¯s what it felt like.


    A painful twinge in his wrist made him drop the sword in a clatter. Clutching his wrist, he felt a cramping muscle spasming violently. Victor dropped to his knees, his body aching.


    Definitely, DEFINITELY something weird about that sword, it¡¯s not THAT heavy. I should be fine to swing it around for a while, but a few minutes and I am exhausted? And everything is sore! Like I was doing some sort of full body workout? I guess I was moving around a bunch but still... that''s crazy.


    Using the sword as support, Victor rose to his feet, his head aching. He had only taken a few steps forward before stumbling sideways against a tree. He groaned everything hurt, a weak noise came out of his throat and he realized he was parched. Water, I need water. The thought pounded in his head, dragging itself to the center of his attention and keeping it there with the dry burning of his throat. With the muscles in his body aching, Victor slowly dragged himself forward, stumbling from one tree to the next using the sword as a cane when no tree was available. He vividly remembered the bright stream close to the cave and weakly made his way towards it.


    It was only a hundred feet from where he was training, but the journey to the stream felt agonizing. Stumbling from tree to tree, using his sword to support his trembling legs, Victor finally reached the source of water. He collapsed to his knees, his hands meeting the grass next to the flowing water. Laying flat on his stomach, Victor dipped his hand into the stream. Cold, icy cold. The thoughts barely registered into his mind as he scooped some water into his mouth, desperately slurping down the clear liquid. He did so, again and again, barely drinking the water but more so splashing his face with it. Eventually he lowered his head into the stream, feeling the flow of icy water across his face as he drank deeply.


    Victor lifted his head up and gasped for air. He rolled over and stared up at the sky. It was clear and blue today, a familiar and reassuring sight that contrasted with all the madness he had felt the last few days. He wasn¡¯t sure how long he laid there, resting, but it was the numbness of his hand that brought him back to reality. He lifted it from the stream and clutched his cold and numb fingers. Freezing great.


    Victor walked along the stream slowly, feeling better now that he was rehydrated and had rested for a bit. His concern now was looking for food. Water would work for awhile, but he didn¡¯t want to risk another wolf encounter while dealing with starvation as well. The wolf meat was already rotten at this point, he had dragged the carcass off into the woods when he woke up. He scanned the plants around him, hoping that there was something he could recognize as edible.


    He had only walked a couple dozen feet forward before his eyes focused on one of the plants. They rose up from the ground, long stems with branches of leaflets that had rounded tips. As he knelt down, he thought back to his vaguely remembered wilderness survival training. Victor thought he could recognize the plant, but wasn¡¯t sure.


    Peanuts. His hand quickly dug at the dirt where the stem came from. As he clawed out more and more dirt, he felt his heart rise and quicken upon the site of a familiar brown shell. Tugging at the stem, he pulled out a jumble of roots with the familiar shells at the bottom. Ripping one off and cracking it open, he munched down the nuts inside.


    food get!


    Back at the cave Victor made the best of his small handful of nuts, after removing their shells. He had heard that peanuts were bland and fairly tasteless when not roasted, but even raw these were quite good. Perhaps it was just that he was desperate for something a bit more palatable than overcooked unseasoned wolf meat. Nonetheless the nuts were delicious. He could practically feel the calories settling into him as he tossed the shells back one at a time.


    The distant glow of orange light amongst the treeline signalled that the sun was still setting. Victor elected to just head into the cave and try to sleep now, lest he feel hunger later on at night. He still felt like he had been run over by a truck after swinging the sword around for a few minutes, he already felt like he could collapse at any moment. Victor crawled awkwardly into the cave and pulled some branches into the entrance behind him. He made his way into the now nearly pitch black cave that had been serving as his shelter, his grip tightening around the blade as darkness enveloped him. Positioning himself equal distance from the entrance and the skeleton he did his best to find a comfortable position to sleep in. He closed his heavy eyelids as worried thoughts drifted into his mind.


    I can¡¯t stay here and keep hoping that a disaster won¡¯t descend on me. I NEED to find people and figure out where I am!


    Drifting off with the sword gripped in his hand he dreamed of fantastical fights and epic swordplay late into the night.

 Chapter 3

    Flames danced across the fields around him, figures flickering behind the crackling heat. A lone figure ran forward, trying to escape the inferno that was consuming the void. He felt a rush of wind howl at him, sending him tumbling down. Crashing into the floor of darkness, the man heard distant shouting and the clashing of blades. Lifting his head up, he saw shadowy forms gather around him, keeping a clear distance away from him. One figure approached him, and the man gathered himself and raised his blade above his head. Tightening his grip, he lunged forward, a scream escaping his lips¡­


    Victor awoke with a gasp. Clutching his blade tightly, he darted his head around the cave. The ray of light that broke through the ceiling only illuminated a patch in the middle of the cave, and his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness. As he continued to scan the room, his eyes focused on a figure crouched against the wall on the other side. A yelp almost escaped his throat, but he could only cough hoarsely. His hands trembling, Victor raised his blade. Then, he waited.


    It only took a few minutes for him to recognize the figure; the familiar skeleton he got the sword from.


    Groaning, Victor heard the sword clatter onto the ground and let out a deep exhale. How long was I holding my breath? He took a few moments to breathe deeply. In¡­ then out. As he was doing so, he lightly pressed his thumb just under his left wrist. My heart¡¯s pounding, he realized. He was restless, too restless, and needed a way to cool off. As he exhaled once more, he felt himself coughing dryly again. Victor had an idea on where to go next.


    ¡­


    The water felt even colder than before. He let the icy water flow through his fingers for a bit before he cupped some into his mouth. A few more repeats occurred before he started to splash his face, wincing from the cold as he rubbed his neck. Kneeling down, Victor dipped his face into the stream and drank deeply. He hadn¡¯t realized how thirsty he was this whole time. The hydration should certainly help clear his still pounding head.


    Leaning back, Victor felt the frosty grass against his neck as he stared into the sky. Whispers of last night''s dream came and went as he attempted to recall those distant¡­ memories? Visions? Even as they faded in his mind, the things he saw last night seemed nothing like any dreams he had before. It felt so¡­ concrete?


    No, it felt REAL. That thought scared him.


    As he brushed aside those thoughts (he didn¡¯t want to deal with them now), Victor sat up and focused on his current objectives. As much as he liked sleeping inside a dark cave with a creepy skeleton, Victor needed to find a better source of food and shelter. As delicious as they were, the peanuts were not a long term or fulfilling solution to his hunger. He still needed a more stable source of food. More desperately, he wanted to get out of this damned forest he was in. If the wolf was any indication, the forest wasn¡¯t exactly a kind or safe haven. If he was lucky, the wolf was only a rare occurrence, and there weren¡¯t any more dangerous beasts waiting for him. If he wasn¡¯t¡­ then he was probably screwed. And so far, he didn¡¯t feel very lucky.


    In any case, the course of action was clear. Blade in hand, Victor rose to his feet and marched along the stream. Where there¡¯s a river, there¡¯s probably people nearby.


    ...


    Eyes scanning along the creek side, Victor saw only disappointment. There were no more peanut plants anywhere in sight. Crap. Those peanuts were pretty tasty honestly. He wasn¡¯t too worried about finding more food, not now at least. There was still a decent amount left over from yesterday. Plus, he realized, he actually didn¡¯t feel that hungry. In fact¡­ he felt pretty energized and full still, like he had feasted the day before rather than snacked on a few nuts. My head feels clearer too, he mused.


    Okay¡­ okay! That¡¯s good news, he thought. Despite all the exhaustion he felt the other day, things were actually looking pretty decent! After all, he survived that encounter with the wolf AND found a source of water. No risk of dying from dehydration, probably. And as long as he continued along the stream, he¡¯s got a good chance to find other people. At the pace he was going at, Victor could cover a decent distance without losing too much energy. As long as he kept an eye out for a clearing or a simple break in the trees, he could try to get a grasp of the local geography. He noticed that the ground had begun to slope more and more as he had walked. Excitement raced into his head. This was it! All he had to do was to get past the dense tree cover which prevented him from getting a clear picture of the local area. This was his chance! Maybe he could find a small city, or a local town, or get some sight of a civilization-


    A deep growl shattered his enthusiasm. A deep, familiar, and dreaded growl. Victor instantly turned, sword raised at the ready, his heart once again racing, threatening to burst out of his chest. What he saw only rose his fear even further. Two grey furred beasts staring back at him, just a few yards away from where he was standing.


    The terror just gripped his throat as one of them lunged forward.


    His body moved faster than his mind did. Leaping backwards, Victor felt his arms release a horizontal swipe, feeling resistance as he rolled back onto his feet. He barely registered the streak of red that flowed across his blade as he saw the wolf crash onto the ground, blood oozing from its wound. Instantly, he leaped forward, and lunged the blade directly into the side of the wolf. The beast twitched for a moment, and Victor saw life extinguish from its eyes. Dead, he thought softly.


    Suddenly, he felt himself crash onto his side, wolf blood splattering onto his arm. Pain seared from his leg and his thoughts screamed at him as adrenaline and agony filled his mind. He saw the wolf; the other wolf, which was still very alive, was sinking its fangs deeper into some kind of object below him. It''s my leg, he realized, the wolf¡¯s biting my leg. The pain that followed tore the air out of his lungs as a scream escaped his throat.


    The wolf started to drag him away from its dead companion, and panic sank into Victor¡¯s heart. The sword, he realized, as his hands grasped at nothing but the air. Need to¡­ to get the sword. He tried to grab the blade behind him, still stuck inside the dead beast, but the pain increased in intensity as he felt himself get tugged further away. With one last desperate grab, he felt his hand grip the smooth leather. With his remaining strength, Victor pulled his arms forward and swung down with all his might.


    The blade met the flesh and bone of the wolf¡¯s head, and all he felt afterwards was relief and agony. Weakly, he tugged at the sword, trying to free it from the head of the wolf, but was unable to. Exhaustion left his limbs weak and trembling. The searing pain from his calf was rising as the adrenaline began to fade. Glancing down at his leg, he had to resist the urge to vomit. He saw the blade, still deep inside the wolf¡¯s head, distorting the face of the dead beast, bone and blood exposed and flowing freely. But worse even still, he could still see (no, he could FEEL) the teeth of the wolf sunk inside his leg. Steeling himself, Victor leaned forward, slowly and painfully. He gripped his arms around the wolf¡¯s jaws, and began prying the fangs from his leg. Resisting the urge to bite his tongue, he summoned his strength to move away from the beast, wincing as the pain once again coursed through him.


    [For slaying an (Awakened wolf) you have earned one Achievement Point (AP)]


    [For slaying an (Awakened wolf) you have earned one Achievement Point (AP)]


    That voice again. Victor didn¡¯t want to think about that right now. Limbs shaky and weak with the departure of adrenaline, Victor pulled himself over to a fallen tree to catch his breath and take stock of his injury. The wolf¡¯s teeth had punched through his skin easily and torn the muscle when it shook its head. Now, only a slow but steady stream of blood oozed out of the wound. Gritting his teeth, he cut a few inches off the bottom of his shirt and began to wrap the injury tightly, wincing as the cloth pressed against the wound. The thin bandage quickly soaked with blood but the pressure seemed to have reduced the flow of blood to the point where it would not be a huge issue, at least in the short term. In the long term he had no way to clean out a wound and if it got infected he would die, simple as that.


    With a sigh Victor leaned back against the trunk of the fallen tree and closed his eyes for a moment. He needed to find people. If he could just do that he would have a chance to survive. Opening his eyes he gazed down the valley, seeing the sparkle of a river that the small creek would eventually merge with. There, up on the steep slopes of the valley¡¯s opposite side, what looked like a large temple sat below the clouds, with buildings rising up the slope until they disappeared into the mists that hung around the peaks of the mountains.


    ¡°Can¡¯t complain about that.¡±


    The buildings filled him with a small rush of hope and excitement; people were nearby. Heading to those buildings was step one of surviving. From what he could tell, he had been walking along a smaller valley that had just merged into the larger one with the river running through it. Judging by the size of the buildings on the far side of the valley, it would probably take a day to get over there. But going over broken terrain would slow him down, adding time. And he still needed to keep a sharp eye out for more wolves or other dangers in the valley. And his leg was injured.


    Sighing, Victor popped a handful of peanuts into his mouth. As he finished chewing the nuts, he gently closed his eyes. It would be a long day ahead of him. He glanced again at the dead wolves before turning away in disgust. Wolf meat just wasn¡¯t appealing to him, not when civilization was so close by. Still, Victor was torn. Right now, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and rest, break from this awful reality and feel a few moments of respite. But civilization was so close. And he knew it was his best option to get moving as soon as possible, especially if his leg was going to get infected.


    With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself upward. Sword propping him up, he waddled his way toward the distant hope of civilization.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Victor continued walking down the slope following the creek as it was joined by others and plunged down into the valley. Gradually his limping faded as he got used to walking on his injured leg, the throbbing becoming noticeably less as the day went on. No more wolves showed up thankfully and some time after noon he began to hear the sound of the river up ahead. Not trusting that his luck would hold, Victor continued forward, carefully, until he stumbled out of the dense trees and found himself on the edge of a swiftly flowing river.


    ...


    Kneeling by the water and wiping down the blade, Victor was pleased to see his reflection in the metal now that it was clear of the blood and grime. He looked at his narrow reflection in the metal, his grimy face staring back at him with a few days of stubble and the leavings of a few days in the woods without a shower. Victor hoped he wasn¡¯t going to scare off anyone looking like that, people would hopefully be understanding of his situation. Placing the sword down for a moment, he cupped some water into his hands and began splashing at his face, the icy liquid reinvigorating him and washing away at least the most egregious of the grime. He briefly contemplated trying to shave with his weirdly sharp sword but decided against it, a nick from that thing would be almost inevitable and he had just finished cleaning his face.


    He was no longer in such a rush. Crossing the river shouldn¡¯t be an issue, not with the stone bridge nearby, and the road from there led straight to the buildings he was headed towards. He wanted to stay here, just splashing his feet in the water and embracing the warmth of the sun above him. He allowed himself to relax in the calm moment, for the time being safe enough. The gentle breeze hummed lightly into his ears as he heard the distinct sound of buzzing around him. Across the river he could see green grass, a meadow decorated with flowers of all varieties. His eyes tried to focus in on some of the flowers, seeing if he could make out any that were familiar to him. But there were none that he could identify at this distance. Still, they were so oddly beautiful in their own way. A scattered array of vibrant colors, mixed reds, blues, and yellows on a canvas of green. They sprouted from among the grass, each plant seemingly enhancing the other''s colour, making them even more animated and lively. With the clear river water below him, the scene in front of him seemed picture perfect. The green field, covered with a beautiful mix of blooming flowers, was sandwiched between the clear blue sky above and the water below, reflecting the blue of the sky. The river itself was lively, streams of water flowing around larger rocks and wooden poles below the bridge. Fish jumped up from the water, one leaping into the mouth of a blue bear. The sky above contained only a few thin clouds, with the bright sun shining down and leaving a glowing circle in the middle of the-


    Wait what? Victor stopped daydreaming for a second and scanned the river again. He saw something he shouldn¡¯t have. He was sure of it. Looking around, he could see the river poles, and the bridge, and some big rocks, and a bear, and the sun reflecting-


    And a bear.


    With a horn like a unicorn on its head.


    ...with a fish in its mouth.


    Sitting atop the bridge.


    ...are you kidding me.


    There was a giant blue bear, just chomping on the weird fish it just caught, lazing about on the bridge that connected his side of the river to the side that had civilization. He saw it roll over on its side, holding the fish in its giant blue paws before dropping the rest into its mouth. After a few more large chomps, the bear seemed to yawn before staring back down at the river. Victor had already moved away from the river bank by then, desperately hoping the beast wouldn¡¯t spot him.


    It didn¡¯t work. The bear locked eyes with Victor and he froze. His heart seemed to stop as the bear rose and began walking forward toward him. He felt his mind scream at him to run, to get as far away from that monster as he could. Yet he could not move. His legs felt like they were chained to the ground. He watched with agonizing fear as the bear stood on its hind legs, stumbling forward¡­ and placed its paws flat on the air in front of the bridge. Confusion replaced fear as Victor''s eyes widened. The bear pawed at the air in front of it, unable to move any closer to Victor. With what seemed to be a sigh, the bear turned around and sat again in the middle of the bridge facing the upstream of the river.


    ¡­.


    Victor only screamed a little when a bolt of electricity surged from the bear¡¯s horn, zapping the water and erupting it with sparks. He felt a tingle surge through his body, only to be surprised when he realized that he wasn¡¯t dead already. And in all honesty? He probably should be dead, him having the brilliant idea to start swimming just a few hundred meters upstream from where the bridge was located. It would have worked swimmingly, had physics not existed.


    Victor was only halfway across when he realized the current had carried him uncomfortably close to the bridge. But considering the bolt didn¡¯t kill him, and the bear didn¡¯t jump into the water to tear him to pieces (electing only to give him a death glare as he swam), Victor considered it a victory as soon as he reached the other side. Oh right of course, the bear could shoot lightning from its horn, because of course it could why would he think otherwise!


    His fingers were tingling a bit too much for his liking as he dragged himself up onto the far bank, but he hoped it was just the adrenaline of almost dying and not some aftereffect of the electric shock. He could still see the bear, no longer glaring at him and instead choosing to try catching some fish again, but Victor had no intention of seeing if it could chase him down on this side. No, he instead chose to walk away from it, as far away as he could while still reaching the path again.


    When he was finally back on the road, he glanced back at the bridge. Seeing the bear still on the bridge was such a relief, he would have leapt up in joy if he wasn¡¯t still afraid of the damn thing. He had enough encounters with monsters for a whole lifetime already.


    Trying desperately to focus on anything besides what he just saw, Victor continued along the stone path. It was blue, but not exactly a vibrant kind of blue. He guessed that years of being¡­ well¡­ a path, had turned the stone into the faded and worn trail they were now.


    Glancing around at the field beside him, he saw the floral life and array of colors from before. Up close the scenery was even more beautiful. He stepped close to a small bundle of white flowers that sprung up from the roadside. Now, looking at them closely, Victor really couldn¡¯t match the flowers with anything he remembered. They certainly were familiar: each petal spread out from the middle, overlapping each other to form an odd yet soothing pattern. Grasping at the stem of one, Victor used his blade to cut the flower off. He brought it under his nose and sniffed; a sweet scent, like cotton candy. A nice smell that lingered in his mind just for a moment.


    He paced forward, slower now, letting the flower flutter from his hand and onto the grass. His gaze lingered along the field, scanning the flowers again and again. He didn¡¯t want to think about the blue bear. He didn¡¯t want to think about the weird flowers. And he definitely didn¡¯t want to think about his weird blade and that inhuman skeleton where he borrowed the sword from. But the more he looked around him, the more Victor had to accept that maybe, just maybe, he wasn¡¯t exactly in Kansas anymore. Not that he was originally from Kansas, but none of that mattered anymore. This world, this place that he found himself in? It wasn¡¯t like his old one, and he was absolutely certain that whenever he was¡­ this place had MAGIC.


    Magic. That would certainly explain much of what he¡¯s been encountering the past few days. The lightning blue bear, the weird issue with using the sword, and the voice that seemed to pop in his mind. Was it all magic? At this point, that was the only explanation Victor felt comfortable with. But even then, he wasn¡¯t really keen on dwelling on those thoughts. He dreaded the ramifications that could come with those ideas: magical worlds in stories are rarely the safest of places.


    And dwell he could not. Because as he continued to stroll along, finding himself sandwiched between a field and a forest, his eyes managed to focus on a glow in the middle of the field. Laying down on its side was a glowing, white furred, and very large stag. Victor instantly raised his blade: he had enough of magic creatures and wasn¡¯t too keen on seeing what exactly this one had in store. But as he watched to stag carefully, keeping a healthy distance between them, the stag turned its head and glanced at him.


    Gazing across the field, Victor saw the stag¡¯s bright eyes peering at him. He lowered the sword, feeling calmed by its gaze. Unlike before, where the other beasts seemed to glare with killing intent, this creature only lazily stared back. He didn¡¯t feel in any danger, his instincts seemingly indicating that there was nothing to stress about. Victor watched as the stag raised itself onto its legs. Now that it stood on all fours, Victor realized that the beast was even larger than he had initially thought. And without any hesitation, the glowing stag pranced away, bounding into the forest and disappearing between the trees. Victor could only sigh in relief, knowing that not every creature in this world was out to kill him.


    He continued onward. And his journey past that was short, as it wasn¡¯t long before he had reached the buildings he had seen in the distance. In front of him was a massive wooden and brass gate, easily three times his height, separating him from whatever, or whoever, was inside. Each door was made from a dark brown wood with cut brass plates decorating them. The left depicted a stag with a massive rack standing proudly between two trees while the right depicted the gates themselves opening beside a picture of a stag''s horns.


    Below both pictures there were a short set of unrecognizable characters that likely explained the pictures more thoroughly but Victor thought it was fairly obvious. The more troubling part was what it seemed to imply, but why would the horns be the key? Being able to catch and kill an animal in the woods was a terrible way of verifying if they had permission to enter, it made for awful security. Which implied that both this and the bear bridge were part of a test rather than security, which implied ¡­ what exactly? Victor didn¡¯t know, but what he did know was that he was not going to be able to catch that deer and use its horns as a key.


    Deciding to start with the simplest solution and go from there he tried knocking on the door to see if anyone would answer, the door and wall looked well maintained so there should be someone around. His fist barely made a sound when it hit the wood, so he looked around for a suitable branch. It didn¡¯t take him long to find something in the forest, and after fashioning it into a crude club he proceeded to pound the door with increasing levels of force. Not only did the stick break but it failed to make a sound that would be heard more than 10 meters away.


    Taking a step back he reexamined the problem from another angle. Higher up on the door there were two of what he had assumed were decorative handles. On a second examination however, he supposed the brass plate they rested against would make them excellent door knockers if they were in easy reach. Preferring to try knocking once more before attempting to climb over the wall he quickly found another longer branch and used it to lift the heavy brass piece. Lifting it as far away as he could, Victor released the piece and let it strike the panel.


    As metal struck on metal, a long low sound rang out, causing Victor to wince and cover his ears. He didn¡¯t expect it to be THAT loud, the note slowly diminishing down to a tolerable level. A few seconds passed after the sound faded and the gate swung open. Inside was a plain stone courtyard with another set of doors across the other side. A long grey carpet with brown outlinings connected the two sets of doors. Surprisingly, there was no one on the other side of the gate, some sort of automatic system then? Stepping through it felt like a wall of static electricity but his hair didn¡¯t stand up on end.


    [Hand aperture cleared, energy insufficient for System activation, increase internal energy]


    [Mouth aperture cleared, energy insufficient for System activation, increase internal energy]


    There were the messages again, Victor may have been sceptical but he was also able to read the writing on the wall: he was clearly either losing it, a horrible possibility that he could do nothing about, or he was transmigrated and had to get used to it. The messages about apertures had sounded very cultivation like and the horned bear was exactly what you would expect from a fantasy novel. Then there were the pictures on the gate that strongly implied that you should go kill a stag in the forest to open them.


    His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the distant creaking of wood and metal. A figure in white stepped out of a doorway on the opposite side of the large courtyard and walked towards him. The brisk steps of the man closed the distance quickly and soon he came to a stop in front of Victor. The Cultivation style talk of apertures and the vaguely eastern style of the buildings had him expecting something very different from the vaguely middle eastern man in front of him.


    ¡°Congratulations on overcoming the examination!¡±


    The what now?