《Stream Hero》 001 [0 Followers] The screen in front of him flickered as he came to, yawning after what was a good dream. Man, he felt good after that sleep. It took him a few moments to realise what he was looking at. The small blue screen jumped up and down across the sky, air, wall, what was that in the distance? It took him a few seconds to shift his attention from the screen and towards his surroundings. Surely, he wasn¡¯t sleeping that soundly for him to get kidnapped and dropped into whatever this was? Back up, back up, where was he? It smelled like a forest. He has been to a few before, but there was certainly not a forest with trees that large anywhere close to him. The foliage spread in every direction, seemingly untouched and peaceful as far as his eye could see. If only the screen wasn¡¯t blocking a part of his vision, that is. What was this screen anyway? After he noticed that aberration in nature, the next thing was the buzzing. He turned around, but the buzzing was constantly somewhere in the distance behind him, always just above his shoulder, out of reach. Wait, wait, back to the screen. It was getting annoying. Why did it say such useless information, and why did that seem important to him at the moment.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. The screen was just in the centre of his vision, no matter how hard he tried to move from it. He tried touching it. That yielded¡­ some results. [0 Followers] [No upgrades available] Another poke at the screen seemed to have done it. The screen wobbled and minimized to the corner of his vision, a bright blue ¡®0¡¯ hanging around just about in the periphery. It would have to do. He tried looking again at his surroundings, without an opaque screen in front of him. As mentioned, the forest was peaceful. If you didn¡¯t account for the constant buzzing. Occasionally, the buzzing would change to whirring and then back, and sometimes it would just stop. He treasured the moments of silence because it allowed him to finally think. This all took a span of a few minutes at most, he was sure of that. What he wasn¡¯t sure of was where exactly he was, how he got here, and what he was supposed to do. And why his shirt and pants were replaced by something out of a renaissance fair. Seriously, baggy linen trousers? What was he trying to look like, a peasant? Next to him was a small knife. Or a dagger. On his belt, which he didn¡¯t remember wearing, was just the space for it. He snatched the dagger, as he¡¯d decided to call it, from the wet ground, brushed it off against his pants to clean it from dirt, and put it into the perfectly positioned holder. His boots were missing, and it should¡¯ve definitely been winter, which was odd, considering the forest was hot. And moist. And no longer quiet. He heard some squeaky chattering behind him and turned to look. A new screen popped into existence. [Tutorial started] [Enemy: Goblin] Why was he in a game? He screamed, for he did not know. 002 [Enemy: Goblin] The screen flickered out of existence, and he had a chance to see at what was in front of him. The¡­ goblin, obviously, was green, small, and had a chittering, rambling voice that he could swear mentioned the words ¡®Kill¡¯ and ¡®Eat¡¯ a few too many times for comfort. For reference, the correct number of times for said comfort was zero. The Goblin held a small knife, perhaps similar to what he was carrying, but in its small hands, it looked bigger. > That¡¯s what she said. What? The new screen, this time green and much more transparent flickered out from the bottom left. Did the screens somehow read his mind? The whirring on his back was uncomfortable all of a sudden. He contemplated the existence of mind reading for the next second because that¡¯s how much time it took before the Goblin leapt into him. It leapt. Really fast. He clearly didn¡¯t have enough time to get his gears turning properly, and was shortly met with a dagger eerily close to the chest. At least some part of him knew how to dodge incoming blades. He would make sure to thank that part later on. Perhaps with some food. It was, however, not the time to dilly dally around. The Goblin missed, but just barely. He swung again and this time he was expecting it. No, that was wrong. He wasn¡¯t expecting a dagger to be swung anywhere near him. The presence of said dagger within 1 metre of his personal space was utterly against any logic of civilized society. Unless he was cutting cake.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Mmm, cake. He tried to dodge the next jab towards his chest. He jumped to his left and once again it barely missed. He was thankful for this Goblin being really bad at jabbing daggers. Or maybe he was good at dodging them. Before long, he would level Dodging up. If that¡¯s how it worked. Still on his feet, he took out his own dagger in his left hand and did his best impression of knowing how to properly handle bladed weapons. Maybe it would easier if he imagined the Goblin to be like a really ugly cake. The Goblin was definitely shorter than him, so it was obvious that he had a longer reach. Maybe that¡¯s how he would actually win this fight. The Goblin made another jab at him with his dagger, and he snatched his arm, trying to keep the dagger away from his innards. Or outards. Was outards a word? He certainly seemed to have a better or stronger grip than the Goblin, as the chittering rambler seemed taken aback by being grasped. It opened his toothy mouth and he had to try and ignore the foul smell that was coming out of that pile of toxic waste that was the rotten maw of the creature. Maybe that¡¯s how he¡¯d die, not by being stabbed but by pure radiation coming from such a vile void. He turned his right hand, the one holding the Goblin, sharply to the left, trying to position the Goblin¡¯s face away from his nose. It worked, somewhat. In a moment that the Goblin¡¯s hairy, warty, back was exposed to him, he took his chance and stabbed at its shoulder. The dagger dug into skin, sickly blackish blood squirting as the Goblin flailed. Another shriek and a loose swing from it made him let go, pulling the knife out from his back. It backed off briefly, trying to clutch at his wound. Another ramble of ¡®Kill¡¯ and ¡®Die¡¯, and he was back at it, trying to jab the dagger again. This time, he grasped at the Goblin¡¯s head, narrowly dodged its arm flailing at him wildly, and pushed the dagger into its chest. Another sputter of blood came out, and the Goblin slowed, looking down at his wounds. His chest wheezed and squirted blood as he pulled the dagger out and backed off sharply. He eyed the small Goblin as it clutched its chest, rambled the word ¡®Die¡¯, this time with more sadness and apparent self-conscious, then dropped on the forest floor. [Tutorial stage 1 complete] 003 [Tutorial stage 1 complete] The blue screen once again dissipated into nothingness. He needed it for more information, damn it! He slowly made his way to the downed Goblin. Was it really that easy to die? Was that all it took for him too? A few wild hits from a weapon and it would be game over? Wait, what did ¡®Game Over¡¯ actually mean to him then? The whir behind his ears produced a chirp for the first time. That was new, unknown, and frightening. His shirt had some stains from both blood, dirt, and what appeared to be Goblin spit. He didn¡¯t really want to take it off because it would be crazy going around shirtless. Now that the Goblin was dead, he could take more time to look at it. It was green, small, lanky, skinny, and definitely dead. He poked at it a few times just to make sure. Maybe Zombie Goblins were a thing. That was it, he jinxed it. The body didn¡¯t seem to move. A louder whir came behind his ear, always from the same space. The dagger, one that the Goblin dropped, next to him shimmered. He picked it up, wiping it off with his pants.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He looked over both daggers. They were more or less identical, except for the shimmering. He wasn¡¯t sure if that made a visible difference. The shimmering dagger blinked out of existence. [Loot added to Inventory] He eyed the newest screen. How would he get the dagger back? He poked at it, and it expanded into a futuristic shelf, only two dimensional. On one of the square screens was a picture of a small knife and a clearly marked ¡®1¡¯ next to it. So, this was inventory, I guess. He poked at the knife icon, and it dropped out, falling onto the dirt floor of the jungle. Was this a forest or a jungle, what was the difference? He picked the dagger up, and once again it instantly blinked out of existence. Which was neat I guess. The next screen was red. [Dual wielding not learned] Huh, so that was a thing. Once the newest screen disappeared, he put his dagger back into the holster at his belt and then tried taking the other dagger out. Within a second of his dagger being in his grip, it blinked into the supposed void of the inventory. He was still having a bit of trouble accepting that he was in a game, but there was really no point wasting time denying it, that much was clear. He looked around the forest, or the jungle, still figuring out which was it exactly, and he could notice that there actually were a lot of sounds coming from all directions, but he just didn¡¯t bother listening close enough. Probably because of the Goblin. A small line of light stretched from his feet into the distance, trekking over the jungle floor and a screen materialised in front of him. [Proceed to Tutorial stage 2] 004 After the newest screen disappeared, he made his way forward, following the lit up path. He debated on following it but figured that he might as well play along. Aside from the ever-present chance of sudden death by something, there was no real harm in following the guide. That route through the jungle was probably as deadly as the next one, so there was no point in protesting. He touched a bunch of things along the way. Tree trunks, long leaves, some rocks. Correction, he touched things that didn¡¯t move or has discernable danger on them. If he saw a brightly coloured frog, he¡¯d nope back out. Unless it was used to craft poisons. Then he might reconsider. Damn it, he was already starting to think about what kind of a game this was and crafting. The winding route finally ended at a rather unnatural clearing in the middle of the jungle. He figured it must not have been accidental, but he couldn¡¯t really do much about that, so why bother pondering more? [Tutorial stage 2] The screen blinked in and got dissipated once he poked at it. It was weird poking at things in thin air. They weren¡¯t exactly physical, but they still provided some sort of a feeling as he touched them, like poking at glass. The next screen was in a deep green, compared to the blue and red he saw thus far. And the pale green one from before, which he still couldn¡¯t comprehend. Mind reading. [Please choose a primary role and class] The screen got replaced by a table of choices. Woo, he got choices.
Fighter: Ranger: Mage: Support:Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Warden Assassin Wizard Healer
Bruiser Marksman Sorcerer Enchanter
Was there any sort of help in this thing? Maybe if he pressed the top row, it would show him something. Mage Uses magic to clear away obstacles and defeat enemies. Wizard: Powerful mage with the ability to store spells and create a powerful grimoire to keep within reach at all times Can store a large number of spells in his book. Higher mana pool. Sorcerer: An intuitive mage that can learn mastery over the essence of spells, modifying them to his will. Can know a limited number of spells at a time. Spells can be modified. Well, it was better than nothing. He thought about what would the difference be between one and the other, and if he wanted to be either. Of course, magic was exciting, who didn¡¯t want to know it? Support A welcome addition to any party, supports are vital in keeping the party going forward. Healer: Uses abilities catered towards restoring the allies¡¯ resources and a powerful array of protective magic. Enchanter: Controls the battlegrounds around him, using both helpful and malevolent abilities. That last one seemed interesting. Nobody ever goes support. The rest of them didn¡¯t seem to have lots of magic going about, so he decided to take a gander. Mages are unoriginal anyways. He clicked on the Enchanter button. [Class chosen: Enchanter] [Tutorial stage 2 active] A bright light shone next to him, and a vaguely humanoid featureless blob of particles appeared. It was like a human wearing a full body suit, except they lacked a face as well. In the distance, several different ramblings voices came from around them. There were definitely too many mentions of the word ¡®Kill¡¯. 005 The featureless human pulled out a sword and a shield out of thin air, and he wondered where his equipment was. This tutorial was anything but fair. [Skill learned: Shield] [Mana system activated] [Upgrading UI] On the top left a blue bar appeared, barely transparent so he could see behind it well enough. It was bright blue, with the words ¡®100/100 MP¡¯ next to it. He figured that was his mana bar that the system announced. He figured calling it a system was a good enough approximation of the anomalous thing. The centre of his vision was taken by a large sign with an icon of a shield on it. He poked it just like the previous messages, and it opened into a much larger text box. Shield 1 Creates a transparent barrier thatstops projectiles and provides physical cover. Cost 15 MP Duration 2 seconds 2 seconds? That was a lifetime. He had no idea how to actually use the spell, but that was unimportant in the grand scheme of irony that he was in. Well, he would have to learn as he went. Was that why this humanoid thing was next to him? To train his spells? Sweet.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The human took what looked like a fighting stance as three Goblins appeared in front of them, each one with a similar dagger as before. The human ran into the group, sword at the ready and shield on his side. The Goblins leapt into action, swiping at the human as he tried to deflect their attacks and stab at the enemies. He tried to focus on the human¡¯s movements. The figure seemed to have some grasp of how actual combat was supposed to go, so he would try and learn from it, from the distance of course. It didn¡¯t look like it had feelings, so who cared if it got hurt, right? One of the Goblins received a sword to the gut, coughed blood, staggered, and promptly died. It all happened unnaturally quickly. The other two Goblins swiped at the human, completely ignoring him. A part of him wanted to be jealous that he wasn¡¯t getting attention. That part was promptly shut off and ejected out of the consciousness. One of the Goblins made it past the human¡¯s defences and stabbed him in the arm. The human figure staggered, appeared to glitch, and then slowed down. The third Goblin showed the dagger into the human¡¯s back and the human shattered into small black crystal-like pieces. A large red notification leapt into his eyes. [Tutorial stage 2 failed] [Please try again] By the time he read it, the Goblins were gone without a trace, even the dead one. A bright light brought another one of the human things. This time, it walked towards him, stopped at an arm¡¯s reach, then smacked him across his head. He didn¡¯t think it would hurt, yet it did. He rubbed the side of his head, hoping the pain would go away faster that way. The same chittering could be heard again, and the human took up a fighting stance as he faced the three Goblins again. 006 Human 2.0 ran towards the Goblins, and this time he paid much closer attention to what was going on, trying to predict movements, and get a general idea of what the heck he was supposed to be doing. Surely, his job here was to use the Shield skill. The first Goblin died the same way as he previously did, catching a sword with his peritoneum. The next part was when Human 1.0 started to falter. He saw the Goblin that stabbed him the first time, so he decided to stop that stab. In the middle of the Goblin¡¯s jab, he screamed ¡°Shield¡± at the air and imagined some, any, sort of a shield where Human 2.0 would get hit. A part of the mana bar emptied and a glistening barrier came between the Goblin¡¯s dagger and 2.0¡¯s side. That seemed like it would do the trick for now. 2.0 swung around, catching the offending Goblin¡¯s neck with his sword and it was decapitated. The head rolled off in the distance, the roundness of the head peculiarly suitable for rolling in the dirt. The rest of the body dropped lifelessly. If it had dropped lifefully, that would¡¯ve been weird. The third, and the only remaining, Goblin swung at 2.0¡¯s back, which he decided to also block, in fear of receiving an additional smack on the head.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. He yelled ¡°Shield¡± again, a part of the mana bar greyed out, the number dropping from 85 to 70, and a translucent barrier shimmered as the dagger bounced off it. 2.0 turned around and again made short work of the offending Goblin, and thus they won the hard-fought battle of the ages. Their names would be etched into the Hall of Heroes, and he would wake up in his bed. Of course, nothing beyond the first thing happened. The Goblin was still dead, and he was still stuck in the jungle. There were also no fanfares to his dismay. Fanfares would be nice. 2.0 made a salute and disappeared. A new screen appeared before him. [Tutorial complete] No, no, no. The tutorial didn¡¯t feel complete. He was given a dagger and a skill he barely knew how to operate, and whoever put him here decided that was good enough for him to survive? That was simply unbelievable. As in, he literally didn¡¯t believe that was happening to him. Sure, he was stuck in what seemed like a game, only 4 Goblins so far tried to kill him, and sure, there were prompts appearing in view. None of that was actually a part of his daily routine. He tried to think positively. At least he knew magic. Sort of, kind of. The list of positives definitely needed to expand. Still in the clearing, he decided he might as well try to get out the jungle by foot if he couldn¡¯t by any unnatural means. It wasn¡¯t like something was going to come to pick him up. He wasn¡¯t that lucky, not by a longshot. The only thing around him was the noise of birds and the wind, and maybe an occasional croak from the nope-frogs he couldn¡¯t see. He picked a direction at random, steeled himself that he won¡¯t die fast, then started walking through the trees. 007 He slowly waded through the forest/jungle (Forngle? Junest?), with no end in sight. He occasionally cut off leaf stems to make his path more clear, turning his head at every noise besides the constant buzzing and whirring that happened behind him. Surely he would start habituating that sound. Yes, he knew words, he took a psychology class. He wasn¡¯t a dumb person. He also wasn¡¯t an outgoing one, or this would¡¯ve been a much easier task to go through. He had no visible supplies, no map, no sense of direction, and his feet hurt. He also put that list in reverse order. His feet hurting was the most stressing thing at the moment, while no supplies would cause him death fastest. Could he use the screens to write on? He tried focusing on parts of vision that were not natural, like the mana bar on the top left. Its glowed slowly from left to right, and he noticed that every few minutes the number would increase by one. He was currently at 79, which left him five uses of his Shield. What a lousy repertoire for starting skills. He eyed the number on the bottom left and was actually weirded out. It had risen. He poked the number, and a screen, similar to the first one he¡¯d seen when he woke up, appeared in his sight.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. [10 followers] What did that actually mean? Was he followed by someone? Hunted? Was this a game to some interdimensional hunters and he was the prey? He tried poking it again, trying to not minimize it. He desperately needed a user manual. Maybe one with an actress from a certain sitcom. He wasn¡¯t actually that old to watch it, but that situation struck him as funny. Poking on the screen made the second line appear. [Upgrades available for reaching follower threshold] [Congratulations on obtaining your first followers!] The sound of fanfares erupted and the screen expanded into a futuristic shelf similar to the one he had for the inventory, which he didn¡¯t know how to access. There was only a single icon available on the shelf, a small backpack and a label that said ¡®FREE¡¯ below it. You don¡¯t look a gift bag in the seams. He clicked the icon and a backpack true to image popped into existence. He opened the lip and undid the rope that tied the top, then took out the items one by one. He had a flask with what appeared to be water, which was great as he was feeling thirsty. There was also a wrapped sandwich, the fillings of which eluded him for now, a machete that every forngle adventurer on film ever used, and a piece of rope. There were also some sort of boots. How they actually fit in the backpack was beyond him, as it was clearly not large enough to fit the four aforementioned items, let alone the heavy black boots that looked like to be out of ¡®Goth in 2009¡¯ fashion magazine. He quickly put the boots on, out of sheer joy of not having to make one more barefoot step through the dirt. Now all he needed was a monkey and a map. A part of him wanted to say ¡®V¨¢monos¡¯, but that would¡¯ve been too much. 008 With preliminary supplies taken care of seemingly by divine intervention, he continued going through the forngle, now with a machete in one hand while the other poked around the screens in front him, absentmindedly trekking like you should through unknown territory. He managed to open his inventory by pointing at any pocket on his body, or the backpack. Saying the word ¡®Inventory¡¯ achieved the same result, and he wasn¡¯t sure which was cooler. The machete was somehow able to stay in his hand with the dagger on the belt. Trying to pull the dagger out of the belt teleported the machete into the inventorial void, so there was that, still no dual wielding. The number of followers ticked up on the right. Apparently, it was a good thing, even though he was half sure that just meant more people were hunting him down. He also realised that trying to hold on a screen provided him with sort of a helper function, although it usually wasn¡¯t much help at all. There was also a distinct lack of things to look at. There were apparently no stats, as no combination of words that mentioned character, statistics, stats, sheets, status, or info, provided him with a screen. This was definitely a weird game. The only tangible, numeric, information seemed to be the mana bar, now at 87, and the follower count.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Three minutes ago, he managed to open his skills tab by slapping his forearm. That was done accidentally on purpose by trying to kill a mosquito. He wasn¡¯t sure why that was the particular action needed, or why only pressing on the left arm worked. And no, he didn¡¯t need to slap it, rubbing it worked just as well. He tried opening the Upgrade Shop, as he called the shelf which popped out the backpack, but the only icon was that of the backpack itself and the label said ¡®SOLD¡¯ with a sad emoji next to it. Was the sadness supposed to be his at being unable to buy any more of them, or whoever designed this for not being able to give out more? One of the things he did notice is that the sun was now visible directly above, peeking through the crowns of the trees. It was more or less midday. That was another useless piece of information as he walked through the forngle. The thing that was actually affecting him was the gradual increase in both heat and moisture in the air. It was uncomfortable, and his shirt was covered in sweat that couldn¡¯t evaporate. Surely, it was time for the monotony to stop, and he was actually curious about why there were almost no animals around him. Animals he could easily spot that is. What was the actual density of animals in the wilderness? The concrete jungles contained so many humans, seeing nothing and no one for what looked to be miles, although was probably much less than that, was disconcerting. It was finally time for a change of pace and scenery, and that happened when he heard water murmuring nearby. He ran to the source of the sound and lo and behold there was a small river in his way. Two Goblins were making a camp near the shore, and they sure managed to spot him. 009 The Goblins did more chitter chatter, mostly involving his favourite words to hear (¡®Kill¡¯ and ¡®Eat¡¯, if that wasn¡¯t obvious enough), and then brandished their weapons. Daggers were fine, bows were not. One of them had a bow and a few arrows. Time out, he was ready to call foul. He wasn¡¯t prepared for that. He tried to eke back but the Goblins would probably not let him go. In their minds, he was probably a meal ready to get roasted on that firepit. Did Goblins eat raw or roasted meat? He didn¡¯t want to find out now. The archer Goblin nocked an arrow and took aim while he scrambled to move to any cover, like a nice big tree, as the other Goblin leapt at him with his dagger. The Goblin fired and he cried for a Shield before the transparent barrier came, separating him and the arrow as it bounced haplessly with a slight shimmer. The other Goblin was slightly dazed by the sudden appearance of the Shield, but when the short duration passed, started running at him again. He pulled the dagger out of his belt and the machete evaporated as he took a firm grip on the tried blade. He tried doing the same thing he did with the first encounter, making use of his superior size and reach.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. This would be harder when another arrow whizzed by just as he was trying to catch the Goblin¡¯s arm. Startled, he moved and the Goblin¡¯s dagger narrowly missed him, only causing a small cut on his side. He grit his teeth and tried again, taking a hold of the Goblin¡¯s dagger arm and jabbing his dagger into its bony back. The skin gave way again and the blade dug into its shoulder as it screamed. He looked away and saw the other Goblin ready to let loose another arrow. He screamed for a Shield again and another shimmering barrier stopped the projectile. He pulled the dagger out and stabbed the Goblin another time, making sure to keep out of its reach. With a whimper, the Goblin lost its footing and fell onto the dirt. He didn¡¯t spare a glance to see if it was already dead, but ran towards the archer, trying to cover the distance between them before he needed another use of the Shield. He failed, and the third Shield for this fight came between them as he slowed down not to hit the barrier himself. Once it disappeared, he swung at the wide-eyed Goblin and cut across its chest. The gash spurted some of the blood on his face as he leapt onto the small and now helpless creature, repeatedly stabbing it wherever he could. As cries stopped ringing out of its wide head, he backed off, covered in blood, sweat and dirt. The other Goblin hadn¡¯t moved from his resting place, so he was most likely as dead as the mutilated body before him. He sat down on the dirt, threw the dagger beside him, cupped his face in his bloodied palms, and started to weep. 010 He wasn¡¯t sure why he was suddenly hit by the need to cry so much. There was this overbearing need to both vent at the frustration that he was in this mess and weep at the hopelessness of it. He was, for all intents and purposes, stranded in here, left to either fight or die, most likely both, and he had no way of knowing how to get out. It was both hilarious and terrifying, which reflected in his crying being replaced by laughter. He was in a very shitty game, and that was basically it. He could take offence or problems with it, or just accept it and move on. He definitely didn¡¯t seem to be able to go back. Maybe dying would get him back? He didn¡¯t want to try that option. He glanced at the dead Goblin in front of him. The ones in the tutorial disappeared when they were dead, but this one was most definitely still present, and still very much un-alive. These Goblins only had a loincloth and a weapon to their name, and he came in and killed them. He had to get a hold of himself already. It was incredibly likely that they would just kill him if he didn¡¯t do this, so surely his actions were justified, as a form of self-defence. In which you repeatedly stab your much smaller attacker. Courts would have a field day with that.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. He got up, rubbed his eyes dry, or drier, considering his hands were now equal parts sweat and blood as well, then walked to the bow. He grabbed it and the bow simply disappeared into the inventory with another notification. [Bow incompatible with current class] And that was the end of that, he was supposedly a support and could never hold a bow, let alone fire one. He picked up the arrows that were within reach, hoping he could actually do something about them if given enough time and information about the nonsense world he was in, then picked up his now third dagger from the other dead Goblin. He considered his options. In the forngle, there were bound to be scavengers, and he wasn¡¯t keen on meeting any of them. The small river would be easy enough to wade through, but he first cleaned his hands and face off the grime that accumulated. He also checked on the nick that he received from the Goblin and hoped that it wouldn¡¯t get infected. It was a really small cut and already seemed to be closing slowly, far faster than a wound should. Really, a nonsense world. He picked up the backpack he managed to carelessly drop while fighting the Goblins, secured it on both of his shoulders instead of the one he previously carried it on, just to avoid the same scenario, and then moved onwards. He checked on his mana bar, and it showed 44. He didn¡¯t like that. Shields didn¡¯t really use a lot of mana, but he used the spell too much. He needed to get better at all of this if he were to make it out alive. That, or acquire better skills. 011 He set out further along the river, the dead Goblins far behind his back. He tried equipping the dagger he got from the Goblin to no avail, and his own dagger that he¡¯s been using has been washed in the river. It was more like a stream than a river, but he decided to call it a river. He was starting to get worried at how much time he was spending just walking aimlessly in the forest. His mana has risen to 67, which indicated he has definitely walked at least a couple of miles, even if his progress was slow. The sun was still up in the sky somewhere overhead, and there was a ways off to go until night would set in, at least according to his calculations, but it was still worrying that he couldn¡¯t find anything notable in the forngle. The trees and the shrubbery were more or less the same as far his eye could see, and he wasn¡¯t keen on trying to pick up mushrooms off them. Eating them would be a lottery between being fine, seeing things, having bouts of unpleasant illness, or straight up death, and he wasn¡¯t liking his odds for now. If only the Helper function worked on things he could see instead of only the screens in front of him. And if only it worked. Curious to what it might actually do, he snatched a nearby brownish mushroom growing on top of a tree root and tried mentally using the command on it. Nothing happened, apart from the mushroom vanishing. [Mushroom added to Inventory] That wasn¡¯t that much useful. He hasn¡¯t actually considered how much he could carry, or in what state foodstuff and organic matter were preserved in the Inventory, if it was preserved at all. The Inventory didn¡¯t say, and the screens remained silent as always.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. It was time to load up on mushrooms. He continued going through the forngle, following along the incredibly peaceful river, picking up a few mushrooms as he went. Maybe they''d be useful later. He noticed some fish in the water but wasn¡¯t sure how to get them from point A, the river, to point B, not the river. Thinking of spear-fishing, he picked up a branch that had any spear-like qualities, like a sharp end or relative straightness, which just ended with it transported into the Inventory and a screen to accompany the disappointment. [Spear incompatible with current class] He needed a net, maybe. Now would be a great time to catch up on those wilderness survival videos. If he had any. The fish in the river mocked him for his inability to extract them out of their habitat by leaping out of the water occasionally. He wasn¡¯t particularly hungry, considering he ate the sandwich provided in the backpack when he got it, but he was definitely annoyed. And worried that he might not receive sandwiches anymore. He had a knife and a skill that projected a barrier that stopped things. Maybe it could work somehow? There seemed to be a definite limit to the size of the barrier, and its shape was more or less convex when he cast it the first few times, but perhaps he could influence that. He pointed at the river, imagine something more like a dome than a sheet and said ¡®Shield¡¯. He had a decent amount of mana, and if he stayed here, where it was relatively silent, for a while, he could get it back. A glimmer appeared in the river and a small dome hovered over the fish, stopping water from flowing for about a second before it shattered. The barrier deflected arrows with ease but seemed to have difficulty holding in running water. But now he had an actual plan to go along with, and he got his dagger at the ready. He glanced at the number on the right. [13] Whether someone was following him or whatever exactly the number meant, it was put to the back of the mind. The number has risen since the past few hours, so he needed to ponder that as well when he got to it. For now, fish was on today¡¯s menu. 012 He eyed the fish that was glistening in the water, shiny scales reflecting what little sunlight was coming through the thick canopy of the forngle. Until now, he considered them mocking him for his inability to catch them. But that would hopefully change soon. He waded through the river, the cold water reaching just below his crotch. It was cold, but that could be rectified soon. The pants and the boots were in the extradimensional inventory, the ability to store objects at a whim increasingly valuable. He definitely needed to test out the capabilities of what little he was given. In fact, the testing was actually underway, but of a slightly different kind. He was waiting until the fish would approach him, hopefully thinking that he was not a threat to their soon-to-be-ended lives. His MP rested at a comfortable 53, so he would have three tries at this before needing to recharge. When a chance presented itself after a minute or so, he shouted ¡®Shield¡¯ at the coursing body of water and imagined a dome forming around the fish, trapping it inside a shimmering bowl. It took only a moment until the fish was constricted to a mere sliver of what it previously had to move in. He dove for it, trying to catch it and bring it out of the water. As soon as he laid his hands on the fish, it slipped away and the barrier dissipated just before it would¡¯ve prevented its escape as the fish swam away into the unknown of the water.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. That meant first try was a failure. He decided to move around a bit and set up a different place to ¡®hunt¡¯. Hopefully it would yield results and the fish were dumb enough to ignore him until their bitter end. He wondered if fish had an instinct against humans. Then again, there were Goblins here so the fish could¡¯ve learned to avoid anything remotely humanoid. Time would tell anyway. The second attempt didn¡¯t come until a solid five to ten minutes later. He was getting bored and cold, and this would definitely mark the ending point. Another fish swam up to him, and he decided it was now or never. He called up the shield and dove for it, trying his best to snatch it out of its habitat before it was too late. This time, he was luckier, or faster, as the fish started struggling a moment too late and its scales were not as slippery as the previous one¡¯s. He pulled it out of the water and it slapped about, still trying to get free. He decided he had none of it and decided to just put it into the Inventory. [Cannot put living matter in the Inventory] Of course, that seemed too obvious. With the fish still struggling in his hands he turned towards the nearby bank, made half a step forward then chucked the fish at the solid ground. He didn¡¯t feel he would make it all the way with it flapping about. It hit the ground and limped for a second, before trying to go back into the water. He sped up towards the riverbank, pressed it against the dirt, pulled the knife out of the Inventory and stuck it into the fish, hoping it would quicken its demise. A few seconds later, he was greeted with the sight of a limp, dead fish in his arms and a question on how to actually prepare it. He definitely needed to recall those wilderness survival videos. 013 With an unidentified dead fish in his hands, he decided to do the next experiment. [Fish added to the Inventory] He decided to not actually push his luck further. He was able to put a dead thing in the Inventory, and he hoped that making the fire would take not enough time to check how it would keep in there. He assumed that there was no refrigeration option. If he was in a game, maybe it would be a paid feature. What would the price be of a DLC for life? He decided to make a camp, or rather a fire, before figuring out the rest of his woes. If someone was actually following him, like the number to his right suggested, at least he would try to eat before his inevitable demise in that case. The number changed from 13 to 16 in the time it took him to catch the fish. Maybe that meant he was making progress. If more people wanted to kill him, that meant he was more successful? That¡¯s how life worked after all. He got out of the water, tried his best to shake himself dry, then put on the pants and the shoes. The next item on the list would be to set up a camp. The light had already started to wane, especially considering there wasn¡¯t much of it to begin with in the forngle. He searched for fallen branches and dead wood on the dirt floor, hoping it would be dry enough to make fire with. After what seemed like an hour of searching, he finally was happy with the amount of dried twigs and some bark that would hopefully work as tinder, as well as some branches to work as firewood. He discovered he couldn¡¯t put each individual piece of wood in the Inventory, but enough of them would miraculously count as ¡®Kindling¡¯ or ¡®Firewood¡¯. Surely, Inventory was the most broken thing ever in this reality, and he was glad he had it.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. He decided to make camp relatively close to the river. It would provide him with fresh water and there didn¡¯t seem to be any large animals that he came across, if the two Goblins from before weren¡¯t counter. It seemed like a safe enough location. He put the pieces of wood and bark on the ground, ordered them in a campfire-y fashion, and cleared out the area in hopes of not starting a wildfire. That would be really the highlight of the day. He got two pieces of wood and some dried bark and leaves, and set out to make the fire the old fashioned way ¡ª friction. Several minutes, or perhaps a bit more, and a lot of huffing and puffing later, a small fire was happily lit close to the river bank and a fish was impaled on the spear-like branch he dropped from the Inventory. It was fairly hard to actually stick the thing into the dirt. He had to not consider it a weapon or the same red screen he got the first time would pop into existence and the branch would be plopped into the Inventory. That taken care of and the fish ¡ª thankfully retrieved in the same state as it was deposited ¡ª gutted and with some of its rougher scales taken off was roasting slowly in the fire. Even though the sun was setting ever so slowly, unnaturally so, it was still quite warm, so he decided to not bother with trying to fashion himself a shelter, not that he knew how to make one in the first place. Was a tent or a sleeping bag too much to ask for in the backpack? He finally decided to take some time off and enjoy the peace and tranquility of his environment, with the only sounds being the kindling fire, the murmuring river, and the constant whirring and buzzing at the back of his head. That last one was something he was definitely starting to get used to, but was still unsure of what it meant. The other mystery was the question of the follower count. What did all that mean? He definitely required more information about his circumstances. For now, though, the sun was setting and he had food. Times could be worse. He was actually feeling a bit tired, perhaps the day was finally catching up to him and the meal would just be enough to get him to sleep. His contemplation on the spot to sleep on stopped when chittering came from somewhere behind him. 014 From the direction opposite the river, a Goblin came thrashing through the brush and low hanging branches of the small trees. His chittering was more maniacal than anything he experienced and he could somehow tell that this Goblin in particular was not aiming for him. Maybe it was, but it seemed to be an afterthought to a bigger issue. The larger issue revealed itself in the form of a giant black cat. It was a panther, if panthers had large sabre-like teeth. Sabretooth panthers were more of a novelty than Goblins were, if he were to be completely honest. The Goblin chittered and ran to where the impromptu camp was, the fish still roasting in the small pit. It stopped in its tracks, its head darting between him, the fish, and the panther that now stood a few dozen feet away from them. There was a clear debate going on in both the Goblin¡¯s and his heads, although he couldn¡¯t really tell which side was winning in the Goblin¡¯s case. For him, though, it was probably worth a shot to lose a fish, as he was probably not going to win against the panther alone. ¡°Hey you¨C¡± he shouted at the Goblin, who flinched at the words. ¡°I¡¯ll give you that fish if we kill that cat,¡± he said pointing at the large panther that was now approaching them. He wasn¡¯t sure how cat tasted like, but it certainly would be preferable than the cat tasting him.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He tossed his dagger in front of the Goblin, then took out the other one from his Inventory. The dagger, unlike the last time, didn¡¯t pop out of existence and stood firmly in his grip. The Goblin shook a bit, eyed the fish, then the cat, then the dagger. ¡°And you not kill,¡± it chittered through his jagged teeth. He wasn¡¯t sure if Goblins spoke English or if he spoke Goblin. Maybe it was neither and there was a translator at work. The world seemed weird enough for it to exist. ¡°Sure.¡± Just as he said that, a small green screen came into being, just enough to partially obscure his vision. [Party formed] [Effects: Party members cannot harm one another] Why didn¡¯t this happen with the human thing in the tutorial? In any case, the cat now had a numbers disadvantage. He was concerned as to how the Goblin was alone this time where the previous encounter was a pair, which could imply the cat already killed one of them, but then again, it would¡¯ve probably stopped to just eat the first one. Unless this was just the cat killing for sport. Before any moves, he eyed the MP on his left and sighed as the bar showed a measly 37. It was enough for two casts of Shield. He needed to figure out his mana economy and he need to figure it out fast. Or acquire mana potions. Did mana potions even exist? He tossed the questions aside as he needed to focus on just one objective at hand ¡ª live long enough and prosper. 015 The Goblin picked up the dagger just in time for the cat to leap on it and he instinctively called upon the Shield to try and prolong the Goblin¡¯s life, then mentally cursed as he already used half of his available Shield repertoire. Still, the Goblin¡¯s life mattered a bit more in this case. The shimmering barrier came between the two and the panther crashed into it, golden hues shattering as it got bounced back in apparent shock. The Goblin seemed to be in a similar state of awe as it decided to not move or do anything much at all, standing still like a statue in a museum. He would need to reconsider his choice of future party members later. He tightened the grip on his dagger, then ran closer to the cat while it still appeared dazed by the light show. ¡°Well, don¡¯t just stand there, stab it!¡± he shouted at the Goblin, thinking that just saying the words ¡®Kill¡¯ over and over again would¡¯ve done a better job at getting the point across. After all, it seemed more like the Goblins¡¯ modus operandi. The Goblin seemed to gather its bearings and jumped at the cat, dagger in its flimsy arms. The panther recoiled in time to dodge the ineffective attack, at which point he decided to make his own move, trying his best to aim for the neck or any part of the cat¡¯s upper body. He missed and backed off quickly before the swipe of a cat¡¯s claws could gain purchase on his arm, chiding himself for being reckless. While he had the security of the Shield, he had only one of them left and really needed to make it count. The three combatants stepped back from one another, and the cat made another leap, this time aiming for him instead. He tried being more imaginative with the Shield he called up and thought about a dome-like structure he used against the fish, only trying to trap the panther instead of enveloping himself in it. The panther slammed against the shimmering barrier and his claws went through the transparent film of gold, but the dissipating Shield delayed the panther long enough for the Goblin to attempt another stab at it.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. This time, there was much more success as the dagger dug into the panther¡¯s lower back as it shrieked in both pain and surprise. The cat turned towards the Goblin and it immediately ran from the panther, now without a weapon that still jutted from the cat¡¯s skin. The distraction and the maiming of the cat was enough for him to swipe the dagger at the cat¡¯s neck, this time making a deep gash across which immediately spurted blood. He wasn¡¯t sure how he was precise with the dagger. He just wanted to attack, and his hands and legs moved partially by themselves to achieve it. He needed to target, and there was still a chance to completely miss the mark as previously happened, but a part of him sensed there was definitely more than just his regular skills at work. The cat whined and tried backing off from the two, but the loss of blood and the dagger sticking out of the wound on its back made sure it was not going anywhere for long, as it dropped onto the ground shortly afterwards. The Goblin and he stared at the cat, that seemed to just heave in pain and attempted to get back on its feet before finally succumbing to the wound. He wasn¡¯t really sure how wounds were supposed to work, but he was definitely under the impression it took a bit longer to die than what was presented. Must be another facet of the weird world he was in. The Goblin cheered at the sight of the dead would-be predator and just leapt in the direction of the campfire. Before anything could be spoken, the fish was already gone within the confines of its wide mouth. He sighed. It took him more than a while to get the fish, not to mention using two Shields. With the two uses just now, he was completely dry. He looked at the cat, a pile of dead fur wetted by dark blood that shimmered in the waning sun, and sighed as hunger panged in his stomach. A red pop-up appeared just as the growl subsided. [Mana reserve low, please obtain nourishment] Hopefully cat meat had no diseases in this weird world. 016 [Sabre-tooth cat meat added to Inventory] [Sabre-tooth cat meat added to Inventory] The prompts fired pff one after another as he dug the dagger into the dead cat¡¯s flesh, trying to aim for the bits with and around bones and avoid the intestines. If it could be done with cows, it would be done with sabretooth cats. The Goblin had no such qualms about eating, ripping out bits and pieces, fur still hanging from it, and shoving it into its maw. He tried his best not to vomit at the sight, and hoped the Goblin was just starving and that this wasn¡¯t its usual feeding behaviour. He shuddered as he realised what he was doing. It was still day one, and there he was skinning a sabretooth panther next to a Goblin. His life has gone extremely weird in a single day. Some of the cuts and pieces finally partitioned, he decided to get rid of the carcass in hopes of avoiding any other surprise dinner guest. For that, he went a bit further out of the camp, trying to find a desolate enough spot to dump the remains in. It was getting dark and he glanced up to see a notable change in sky colour as the sun had finally begun to set. He had to wrap this up fast and get back to the camp. He trekked a few hundred meters or so from the camp spot and decided to just leave the corpse there without bothering to bury it. He lacked a shovel and wasn¡¯t keen on doing it with his hands. He threw the rest of the carcass ¡ª which didn¡¯t go into the Inventory, for whatever reason it may be ¡ª on the ground and haphazardly tossed some of the nearby foliage on top of it as well as pushing some dirt with his boots, hoping it would do whatever trick he was trying to achieve. With that done, he set back to the camp, one less worry on his mind. He glanced at the number of followers. It had gone up from 16 to 18, then dropped to 17 in the time he was fighting the cat.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. He wasn¡¯t sure what to think of it. Was he doing something wrong? Is that a good thing, having one fewer potential hunter to look out for? The trek back was accompanied by him poking at the screens in front of him, trying to make something work. There was one thing he did manage to accomplish. A small button on the bottom left appeared, with an icon of the star on it. He wasn¡¯t sure when it came into being, but pressing it opened his Skill List it would seem. There was the single entry in it he already saw before. But the number didn¡¯t add up. [Shield 2] He pressed on the button, and a pop-up appeared. [Shield 1 upgraded to Shield 2. Cost decreased to 13. Duration increased to 2.5 seconds] [Would you like to access the skill shop? Yes/No] He pressed the small yes button on the left and was met with a similar view the first time he received the backpack. In it, there were several icons greyed out with the text ¡®NOT AVAILABLE¡¯ and a sad emoji, apart from the first icon in the grid. [Confirm purchase ¡ª Skill: Daze] That seemed oddly inconvenient, considering how the previous fight went. Was he gaining skills based on what he performed with the ones he had? Daze 1 Attempt to daze a target, stopping it from performing meaningful actions. Cost 20 MP Duration 2 seconds. So, for whole 20 mana, he could ¡®attempt¡¯ to daze something? What did attempt mean? Would it work ¡®some¡¯ part of the time? Is there a hidden counter that says ¡®Not today¡¯ when he uses it every third time? He would have to figure it out as he went. And hopefully it would get better with time. The Shield upgrade was a welcomed change. He could cast it 7 times if he got his mana back to full, and it wouldn''t take long to charge an eighth one. [Skill learned: Daze 1] [Skill slots remaining: 3] Oh, that was going to be a problem, for another time maybe, but still a problem. His trek got interrupted by a rustling in the grass next to him. He really didn¡¯t want any more surprises, and just tried to slowly walk past it and try to not antagonize the ferns. The rustling preceded a meow as a small black cat stumbled out of the foliage. A small black cat with quite large canines. Fine, he¡¯d deal with it as he went. He picked up the orphaned kitten that seemed to provide way too little resistance and carried onwards to the camp. 017 The dinner was a sordid affair. He roasted the bits of meat, hoping it won¡¯t give them some new diseases he¡¯d have to go through or die from. His mana stopped replenishing soon after the first screen about needing nourishment for it appeared. Eating could be death, but not eating meant he had no more mana, and that meant more certain death, so eating he would have to do. The Goblin satisfied himself with the raw bits it stuffed in his mouth and lied down on the ground to sleep. He hoped it would go away on its own after eating but had no such luck. He was hopeful that the ¡®No-harm¡¯ clause of the Party screen he was shown would actually persist for some time and he would wake with limbs intact. The kitten munched on some of the meat he prepared as a pang of guilt ran through him, but quickly subsided. It was a life and death situation, and this was hopefully a way to make amends with that. At least he won¡¯t leave the small panther to die alone in the forngle, and that would have to do for now. The meat tasted as bland as unseasoned dishes usually do, but he literally couldn¡¯t complain, namely because there was no one to complain to. He considered his options, going over what he had so far. His meal was barely filling, but it would have to do. His skills seemed to be rather defensive in nature, and his only option in the offence department was using a dagger he owned and was now left with a single spare unless the Goblin gave its back. By some miracle, he had survived one day, but his surroundings were unnaturally devoid on any major life form. Especially since it was nighttime, it was surprising that there were no distinguishable animal sounds around him. Everything around him was just a mystery slowly getting larger and larger the more he learnt about where he was put. And he wasn¡¯t even sure if that was the correct phrasing to use. He eyed the mana bar on his left, that slowly started to climb up from the miserable 9 he had. Maybe sleeping would get it completely replenished.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. He wasn¡¯t sure what he¡¯s supposed to do here. The buzzing and whirring on the back of his head have yet to clue him on something concrete to go for. He checked the Follower Count number, noting it had increased to a surprising 22 in the meantime, but thought not much of it. He was overwhelmed with a need to lie down and sleep, and he just sprawled across the dirt floor using the crumpled up backpack as a makeshift pillow. His sleep was stopped sometime later by a screen floating in front of him and a pinging noise going out in his head. He stammered up to a seat, noticed that it was sometime in the early morning considering the colour of the sky above him, then focused on the screen. [Congratulations! You¡¯ve survived your first day! You¡¯re in the top 68%!] [Upgrades available for reaching follower threshold] The ¡®shop¡¯ opened up, containing the sold-out backpack from yesterday, along with a new icon he could press to the right of it showing a wrapped up scroll. On the bottom was a text box saying ¡°FREE!¡± with a smiley. A sandwich plopped into existence, along with a piece of folded paper. He tucked the sandwich in the confines of the nether that was the Inventory and opened the paper. It showed a crude map of his surrounding, completely blank on anywhere that wasn¡¯t a few hundred meters around him. He was seemingly situated in the middle of a forest, or a jungle, the map didn¡¯t say, and the only other landmark was the river that he was already following. The map seemed to be oriented north-side-up, and the river was going eastwards. On the eastern edge, a small arrow pointed outward with the tag ¡®Objective¡¯ on it. It seemed to be where he was needed to go. Or where someone wanted him to go. Either way, it was something and he needed a goal, so it would work. He decided to follow the river for as long as it would take him in the right direction, then improvise along the way, as that would probably be the safest route. The map dissolved into the ether, and a new icon next to the ¡®Skills¡¯ appeared, showing a crude mark and an X across it. The mana bar showed to be full, so he at least had some rudimentary means of protecting himself. He picked up the still sleeping cat and put it into the backpack, figuring that would be the easiest way to transport it, then kicked the Goblin on its shin to wake it up. ¡°We¡¯re going,¡± he said and started trekking along the riverbank. If he survived Day One, could he survive another? 018 His second day started out great. He had some food, he had water nearby, and he even picked up a Goblin that was following him almost aimlessly and obediently. If not for the fact they were running from a herd of what looked like bison. If bison had metal skin. The HM Bison ¡ª Heavy Metal Bison, as he dubbed them ¡ª were found shortly after the forngle change to a more steppe-like terrain and sky sprawled around them. It would¡¯ve been a magnificent sight if he wasn¡¯t running for life, literally. The Bison ¡ª remembering that the plural of bison is actually also bison, and the plural was referred to in this instance ¡ª charged at them almost on sight, which led to them trying to retreat into the confines of the forngle that was about a hundred meters away. He wasn¡¯t sure what he had done wrong, but they apparently knew and were in it for the vengeance of the thousand hooves. He didn¡¯t actually count them, and there were probably only a few dozen at best, but a thunder of hooves didn¡¯t tell the number. The Goblin managed to run faster and was way ahead of him, and the kitten in his backpack growled hopelessly at their impending doom. He snapped around, shouted ¡®Daze¡¯ at the nearest bunch, hoping it would work on one of them, then turned to run again. It was somewhat hard to move and cast abilities, something he learned just there and then.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. He heard a shimmer behind him and the sound of something slamming against the ground, as well as a distinct sound of metal clashing against metal. He hoped that would buy him more precious seconds. He snapped back again, quickly noticing that some members of the herd were on the ground or slowed down, probably from his successful spell. The rest were still charging at him, so he shouted for another Daze in their general direction and went back to running. Another clash of metal and a few seconds later, he had successfully passed the first lone trees of the forngle and had to slow down as he ran out of breath. He looked behind him and was glad to notice the Bison had decided to leave him alone, at least for the time being. He slumped down on the dirt floor and gasped for breath, looking to see where his Goblin not-a-guide was. [Party broken due to distance] That was wonderful, in the most sarcastic sense of the word. And there he was thinking of naming the Goblin as his first official friend in this wild world. Apparently, friendships lasted for as long as you were not in deadly danger. After a few minutes of resting, he got up to check what his next move would be. The river went down a small valley, passing next to the herd of HM Bison. To the left, or more notably northeast, was a hill he couldn¡¯t really see past, but would probably have to be a vantage spot for him to realise where he actually is. The river was already slowly sloping towards the south and away from the objective he was going towards, so that settled the brief dilemma he carried in his mind. To the hill it was. He filled the flask of water, munched on the sandwich he was given, checked in on the cat that was still securely in the backpack and making very little noise, and left the relative tranquillity of the riverbank. "So long, Goblin, I hardly knew ye," he mused and started walking again. 019 He closed in on the hill, teetering between the forngle and the savannah. He wasn''t sure if he was better off just keeping to the trees or risking going out in the open. His past experience showed that neither was a viable option for long-term survival. He might''ve been able to exist in the forngle by himself, for a while. Maybe with the Goblin not running away, he could''ve managed to actually get something done and figure out things slowly. But the world didn''t seem slow. It was constantly throwing new things at him, especially ones he had to deal with at a moment''s notice. He left the relative shadows of the canopies and slowly climbed up the hill, inching past the high grasses. It must''ve taken him a good portion of the hour to get where he was already, and there was still more to go. He stopped occasionally, mostly to enjoy the view his relative altitude gave him over the dense forngle. It must''ve spread for miles and miles, with only mountains breaking the monotony of the dark green. The hill was as quaint as the forngle was, unnervingly so. Was this how actual nature was, full of emptiness and devoid of animals? Or was it a separation from the norm that he was experiencing. The bits of wildlife that actually had contact with him so far were worrying, as he glanced back at the backpack he had on his back, and that was starting to chafe him as he slowly made his way uphill. He had already eaten the sandwich and drank most of the water he had prepared for the trip, already thinking about going back to the river if no other options were found.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The sun shone high in the sky, and he could actually see the openness of it for the first time. The open air of another world felt fresh. He could still spot the herd of HM Bison in the distance, annoying beasts resting on the riverbank. The other bank contained a similar view to where he was, open fields of grass he knew nothing about, with various hills and a tree here or there to break the lines of the horizon. After a few more minutes of trekking upwards, he finally made it to the top of the hill. He wasn''t sure if it was actually distant or that he was just generally slow, or that he misjudged the height of it from afar. The world sprawled before him, as the map in his left corner bleeped and shimmered. He pressed it open, and the digital rendering of the image he saw before came into view, features slowly filling into the open space. The marked objective was a village, or a town, far into the distance, with a forest separating him from his goal. The plains spread to the south, while mountain peaks inched from the north, forming a natural end to the terrain. A stream of smoke welled up in the distance where the settlement was, joining the occasional cloud above him. It was like a fantasy world looked like in pictures. Picturesque. That was the word he was looking for. He was still not sure what he was supposed to be doing here, but he moved onwards. The forest in front of him was far smaller than the forngle he left, and he would just have to go around it, avoiding the possible dangers that it may hold. The cat in his backpack meowed lazily as he set off again. Seemed like he was going to spend most of his days walking. Books and games really don''t mention walking. He was pleading for the fast travel option. Or maybe a teleport. It would be cool to get a teleport. But the picturesque route had its charms, for now. 020 Correction, the picturesque route was not charming at all. Dirt and grime and constant bird noises were not charming, especially when that bird was the size of a small dinosaur. Dinosaur birds and metal bison. The world was annoying. Said dinosaur-bird was doing its best impression of a T-Rex as it weaved through the trees of the forest he decided to never venture into again. Why did large flightless birds need that many teeth? He threw a Daze at it, stopping it in its tracks for a few seconds. He debated actually fighting it or just moving away as fast as humanly possible. He had a dagger, the bird had several of them in the form of each and every claw on its legs. Couldn''t he get one thing that didn''t want to kill him on sight, and that would actually help him survive? The kitten was generally useless in both regards. The bird undazed itself, a word he invented a moment ago, and ran up to him again. He shouted for a Shield and decided to stand his ground. This was personal now. The bird''s overgrown beak collided with the shimmering barrier and it stumbled onto the side as he tried his best to deftly cut across some vital part of its anatomy. The dagger hand worked by itself to try and lodge said dagger into the bird but could manage only a graze. He was eyeing his mana bar, nowslightly below 50, and thanked the system for the upgraded Shield. With less mana expenditure, he could actually do something about the bird.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The bird steadied itself and slung its heavy head his way, which he called another Shield for. The barrier shattered and the teeth stopped just shy enough to not hurt him. Then he decided to use the initiative of stopping the bird''s attack and cast a Daze its way. Which was the perfect moment to demonstrate the literality of the wording ''attempt'' as literally nothing meaningful happened. The bird raised one leg and swiped at him, which he couldn''t react to in time as it gained purchase across his shin and he cried out in the first meaningful injury he received. Blood rapidly filled the gash in his pants and he made a desperate attempt to make some distance between himself and the bird of terror. Already anticipating the next attack, he shouted for the Shield when the bird dove at him again, the shimmer materialising moments before disaster would strike. His mana bar officially gave up and stood at a firm 1, so he was officially dry. The beak struck the barrier again and he used the relative confusion of the bird to saunter upwards and stick the dagger into the side of its head, the small blade piercing through one of the bird''s eyes as it screeched in agony. He pressed further on the blade and the bird limped lifelessly onto the ground. He had won this fight, and Big Bird was dead. He stumbled towards the nearest tree and leaned to rest against its trunk, gasping for air as the pain seared through his leg. A bright yellow screen came into view, the newest of the colours to brighten up his life. [Combat finished. Non-fatal wounds closing] That was neat. The pain slowly subsided as he felt considerable fatigue wash over him. Regeneration was tiring, it would seem. He stood unmoving against the tree for minutes, gathering both his breath and thoughts as hunger slowly came into effect. He seemed to need more and more food the more he fought. At least it was great for losing that extra weight he had at times. There was already a pattern forming as he eyed the dead bird on the forest floor. "Please don''t make me find chicks in an hour." 021 [Terror Bird meat added to Inventory] [Terror Bird meat added to Inventory] The description that the system showed seemed to line up more with what he thought of it than any further scientific information. Back when he first received the notification, the fish he caught was just simply a fish instead of being any particular type of it. Perhaps if he learnt the proper names of animals, if these things could be called animals, he would get some proper feedback from the system. For now, though, he was just focused on filleting the bird parts that were in front of him. He tried to get some cuts that were reminiscent of chicken, but with the Terror bird being land-based and without significant wings, the most meat was found on its powerful and thick thighs rather than the breast. "It would have to do," he sighed, slashing another moderate-sized piece he hoped wouldn''t rot that quickly. The kitten was munching on a small part he cut out for it, and it didn''t seem to mind it being fresh and bloodied. At least it wouldn''t go hungry and try and eat him, or at least he hoped that would be the case. The only water running through the forest was a stream outlined on his map. It was a short way from his current place and would provide him with proper water, hopefully. Since he was in the forest, he wasn''t sure where exactly the stream went, but its exit from the forest would bring him closer to the village as it was going the same way he planned to travel. He felt safer near small bodies of water than without them. He wasn''t sure why. Statistically, more animals were bound to be next to running water, so he should be expecting more wildlife instead of less, but if push came to shove, he had water with him he couldn''t lose and a direction to follow instead of going through the forest haphazardly. This was a different affair from the forngle he left. Much more dry and with shorter trees, the forest was actually a bit more lit by the sun than what the previous foliage, so he could see far better into the distance and around him. It would explain how a bird seemed to be such a prominent predator in the area, considering their usually superior eyesight to any other sense. He knew he had to prepare food and eat something before he went further inwards, so he went around to find a decent clearing in the otherwise dense forest populated mostly by trees and without much of a shrubbery, leaving him with more branches and fewer leaves to deal with. Leaves would be useful when he inevitably needed to answer the call of nature. There wasn''t really an ability to produce paper out of thin air, to his dismay. A village would be most welcome in that regard.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. He set out to make his second camp in this reality, built similarly like the one before it, a small, hand-dug, clearing lined with a couple of rocks and pure hope he wouldn''t cause a forest fire. He got some of the branches that were sitting in his inventory, and others that he scavenged from the forest floor. He wasn''t really sure what time of day was, but it was probably somewhere around afternoon judging by his general energy level, hunger, and the lacklustre attempt at estimating time travelled. His exploration and survival knowledge still had a ways to go before he felt comfortable with it. What he was doing right now would probably look like bare minimum and amateurish. With the campfire started relatively fast, and a cursory check over his options to see if he could jump-start the process somehow, the smell of meat grilling spread around from his makeshift camp. With his mana sitting at 1, something he attributed to his need to close the wounds and being hungry, he would be useless in case something actually came at him. Maybe he''d just surrender the meat and run away. Didn''t seem like such a terrible option, but running away didn''t seem to get him close to his goal most of the time. The experience with the bison would disagree with that, but there was more to life than running from bison. One day, he''d get back and stand his ground against them and beat them at their own game. Whatever game that might''ve been. He wasn''t really sure. He wasn''t about to take many chances with his meal, so it was decided in a quick vote of himself versus himself that it was better if the meat was slightly charred than raw. The cat decided on its own fate as all cats usually did, and he wasn''t about to try and change that over the course of the day. Finally, when he considered the humble meal of just meat, literally just unseasoned meat, ready he stuffed his mouth in a hurry to move onwards. The quicker he ate, the less time he would spend stationary and in the middle of a cloud of a smell of food. He actually noticed some small animals scurrying about, but it was mostly squirrels and what looked like some kind of a lizard. None of them decided to approach close enough for him to inspect his lunch visitors with more scrutiny, but he couldn''t blame them for it. The Crocodile Hunter guy he was not, and he preferred any wildlife stay away from him if able. Maybe except for the cat. It was fuzzy and cuddly. Maybe the cat will do. When he felt decently sated, he popped some of the charred meat into the Inventory, figuring that prepared meals would last longer. He hadn''t prepared all of the fresh food because that would just extend the time he needed to stay here, and he was already preparing to go. With a swift check that everything was safely in the Inventory, which had yet to show a meaningful limit or an actual way to display the total or individual weight of items, he set out. With a few branches, several pieces of fresh meat, few pieces of cooked food, an empty water flask, two daggers (the third one he regrettably left to the Fleeing Goblin), some mushrooms that he didn''t want to test the edibility off yet, and both Terror Bird claws (as he found out he could actually use them as bludgeons) in extra-dimensional tow, and the cat in the otherwise empty backpack, he left for the general direction of the stream he was sure was in this forest somewhere. It was only a question of when he was going to find it. It better be before nightfall. 022 The forest seemed to be much larger than it initially appeared, as there was no apparent end to it and no sight of the fabled stream either. It was slowly getting dark and he was starting to get thirsty. He had another encounter with a Terror Bird, but this one seemed to flat out ignore him. Hopefully, because it was afraid of his amazing bird-killing skills and not because it was just too bored or fed to chase after him. No, it must''ve been the former. It better be. He may have been lost. He wasn''t really sure, and he was really hoping that wasn''t the case, but something at the back of his mind was telling him he wasn''t really going in a straight line. Apart from the constant buzzing, it was the only thing that the back of his head decided to utter and left it at that. How hard was it to walk in a straight line? Apart from the time he avoided the Terror Bird, which was totally afraid of him, indeed, and that time he ran from a snake he almost stepped on, it shouldn''t have been possible to stray off course that much. He was still right on track to hear the murmur of the stream and see the water in front of him. Any minute now. His mana has steadily risen to 38, indicating it was probably more or less three and a half hours since he started out of the camp. He wasn''t sure about the precise calculations, but arbitrary counting got him to a rate of 1 mana roughly every 5 to 6 minutes, which would mean around 10 to 12 mana every hour. It seemed to vary considerably, and sleep seemed to recharge it to full, based on the observation after one night of it. With that, he could cast two Shields, and he would get the mana for a third one any moment now. There it was, thirty-nine. What a sad state of affairs he was in. It was also boredom, more or less. Not to say he wasn''t observant of his surroundings, he really tried, but everything looked so much similar that it was hard to keep his mind on track and focused on it instead of imagining how it would be back home. He would have an ample supply of water, food, and entertainment that did not try to kill him. He sighed at the futility of imagining home. He had no clue where he was, let alone if or how to get back, and already seemed to start faltering on his second day here. Things were not looking good. He was also quite certain that he could hear water. His other thoughts removed and his mind dead-set on tracking the subtle murmur, he sped up towards the faint sound. Within minutes, it was getting louder and clearer and he could finally see his goal. A small, slow stream rushed through the forest, going who knows where. He knelt down and looked at his dishevelled hair, dirtied face and tired eyes. He washed his face, hands, and neck, then gulped down the precious fresh water until he felt completely revitalised if such a thing was possible. He sat down on a nearby thick root to rest a bit and compose his thoughts. Some of his worries were alleviated, but there was still the question of getting to the village, or town, alive and in a single piece.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Just when he thought he could make it, something screeched behind him and he turned to see a similar sight from earlier today. A large bird with tiny stubs for wings, mottled green and brown feathers, and a particularly large set of claws accompanied by a beak that could probably comfortably envelop his head was standing too near for comfort. Which meant basically just in sight. And it definitely didn''t seem scared, unlike that totally afraid bird he passed before. He thought for a moment, then got The Claw (a makeshift weapon he decided to call the previous bird''s lower leg) out, then stared at the bird. It was time for Big Bird: the sequel. The oversized ¡ª or maybe that was small for a Terror Bird, but he really wouldn''t like to know ¡ª bird leapt in his direction with its powerful legs and quickly closed the distance between them. He tried to hold the Claw as a makeshift bludgeon, with a healthy and useful bonus of sharp on its end, and shouted for a Daze before it could tear him to pieces. A light went out between them and the bird staggered to the side as he swatted at its neck as it passed him by. The attack didn''t seem to have much effect on anything other than firmly diverting the bird into the nearest tree, its stocky body crashing against the trunk. The tree shimmered slightly like in old cartoons where everything was overblown. But this bird was no roadrunner, and he hoped he wouldn''t end up like Wile. Did you know that coyotes are actually faster than roadrunners? Ahem, back to the topic at hand. The bird stammered as it tried to get its probably tiny bearings back together, which he tried to use to his advantage and clobber the bird straight on its head. He swung in a large overhead sweep, like he was trying to chop wood and look manly, and hit the bird dead centre on its head, probably by sheer luck. The claws of the... Claw gained purchase and dug into the weak skin of the bird''s head as it screeched in pain, the sound echoing around them. He decided to try and end things by pulling out his dagger, an action that put the Claw back into the confines of two-dimensional-square-space, and dragged the blade across its voluminous neck. Blood spurted from the cut and more hollow screeches ensued, as the bird slowly but surely lost consciousness and then any remains of life, its legs striking at the empty air as it died down. He looked at the bird with a hint of pity. It was really a magnificent creature when you took the time to inspect it closer. The closest thing he could probably think of to a dinosaur, maybe it even replaced them. And there it lay dead. So he set out to work again. [Terror Bird meat added to Inventory]