A Battle Of Survival

The wind howled through the dense forest as Lee Byung Hun's ragged breath formed white mist in the cold air. His body ached, his muscles screamed, and blood dripped from a fresh wound on his shoulder. The boy, barely thirteen, clenched his sword tighter. This was his first true battle—one he wasn't meant to win.

Across from him stood a beast unlike anything he had ever faced. A Skullhide Wolf, its body covered in bone-like armor, eyes glowing red with hunger. It was a predator, and he was its prey.

Byung Hun swallowed his fear. Running wasn't an option. He had stumbled into the beast's territory, and now he had to fight his way out.

The forgotten god's voice echoed in his mind.

"Breathe, boy. Adapt. Your power is useless if you let fear control you."

Byung Hun exhaled sharply, his mind sharpening. He could feel the spiritual energy within him flicker like a dying flame. He wasn't strong enough to summon its full power, not yet—but he could use what little he had.

The wolf lunged.

Byung Hun dodged, barely. Claws slashed through his tunic, cutting into his ribs. Pain shot through him, but he gritted his teeth and countered with a horizontal slash. His blade met the wolf's armor with a sharp clang, barely leaving a scratch.

Too tough. Too fast. Too strong.

His mind raced. He needed a plan.

The wolf circled him, growling, waiting for an opening. His spiritual energy pulsed weakly in his chest, but he forced it outward. His elemental gift—ice. Not much, but maybe just enough.

The moment the wolf lunged again, Byung Hun dropped to one knee, slamming his palm against the cold earth. A thin layer of frost spread beneath him, coating the ground.

The beast skidded.

That was his chance.

With a surge of desperation, Byung Hun spun and drove his sword upward, aiming for the wolf's exposed throat. The blade sank in—just barely. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to wound.

The wolf howled in rage, shaking him off and sending him tumbling across the frozen ground.

"Get up."

The god's voice was firm.

Byung Hun pushed himself up, his body trembling. He had one shot left. One last gamble.

He gripped his sword, channeling every bit of energy he had into the blade. Ice crept along the metal, coating it in a thin, deadly sheen.

The wolf charged, desperate to end the fight.

Byung Hun roared and met it head-on.

The moment his sword struck, the ice shattered, sending shards flying into the wolf's exposed wound. The beast yelped, staggering.

He didn't hesitate.

With the last of his strength, he drove his blade deep into the wolf's heart.

A final, shuddering breath. Then silence.

Byung Hun collapsed, chest rising and falling, exhaustion consuming him.

"You fought well," the forgotten god murmured. "But you are still weak. If you wish to survive this world… you must become stronger."

Byung Hun clenched his fist.

He had survived—but barely.

And he knew now…

This was only the beginning