Chapter Five: Community Life

Oliver wandered through the empty village, taking in his surroundings with a sharp gaze. The place felt unnatural—too pristine, too deliberately arranged.

The houses, though well-constructed, bore no signs of prior habitation.

No lingering scents of life, no discarded belongings, no remnants of a past. It was as if this village had been conjured into existence solely for the trial.

As he moved toward the village's edge, something caught his attention.

At first, it was subtle—an almost imperceptible shimmer in the air. But as he stepped closer, the distortion became clearer.

A barrier. It wasn't visible from afar, blending seamlessly into the environment, but up close, it was undeniable.

Curious, Oliver approached the only entrance and exit of the village.

Without hesitation, he extended a hand forward. His fingers slipped through effortlessly, feeling no resistance.

The barrier allowed passage, but only at this singular point. A controlled exit.

He frowned. A thought came into his head who would go through the trouble of summoning them here?

And more importantly, why were they summoned?

These questions gnawed at the back of his mind, but he pushed them aside. Answers would come with time. For now, survival was the priority.

Looking around, he saw others beginning to claim rooms in the abandoned houses. If nothing else, at least they had shelter.

Observing them for a moment, he made his decision and walked toward an unclaimed cabin.

As he stepped inside, the door creaked slightly, revealing a simple yet functional space.

The interior was minimal—a single wooden bed against the wall, a small window allowing in dim light, and bare wooden floors that carried no signs of prior use.

There was no unnecessary furniture, no decorations, just the essentials.

A soft chime echoed in his mind when he crossed the threshold. A glance at his inventory revealed a newly added key. He scoffed, closing his hand.

"At least I won't have to worry about my privacy."

Oliver took his time inspecting the cabin. If this was going to be his shelter for the next week, he needed to ensure there were no hidden dangers or surprises.

He tapped the walls—solid wood, no hollow spots. The small window provided a decent outside view, though it was reinforced with thick glass.

The bed, though simple, was sturdy enough. There were no secret compartments, no strange markings—just a plain, functional room.

Satisfied, he exhaled lightly and turned toward the door.

Stepping out, he pulled the key from his inventory and locked the door behind him. A commotion nearby caught his attention just as the lock clicked into place.

A small crowd had gathered around a cabin, their murmurs filling the air. At the center of the commotion stood a fully grown man and a young boy—no older than ten—locked in a heated argument.

The man, tall and broad-shouldered, spoke with an air of seniority. "Listen, kid, there are plenty of cabins around. you can find another one and leave this one for me." His voice carried the weight of authority, but the boy didn't flinch.

The boy crossed his arms, his expression unwavering. "I got here first. And I don't want to go through the trouble of finding another one." His voice was firm, not the tone of a child intimidated by an adult.

Oliver observed silently. He wasn't surprised by the display.

To survive the trials, you had to be exceptional. Even a ten-year-old had to be capable of standing his ground.

He also wasn't shocked by the boy's presence. No child had been born in the past ten years due to the Stillborn Calamity, meaning the youngest age in the world was now ten.

With the global mass summoning, age hadn't mattered. Everyone had been brought here—children included.

The argument continued, but Oliver had no interest in watching it unfold. He turned away and strode toward the village exit, his mind set on one thing—the trial.

Stepping through the village's exit, Oliver crossed the barely visible barrier that separated the settlement from the wilderness.

The moment he passed through, a subtle shift in the air made his skin prickle—like he had left a place of safety and entered something far less forgiving.

With a swift motion, he pulled the dagger from his inventory, its cold steel glinting faintly under the dim forest light.

He turned it over in his grip, testing its balance, but the weight felt awkward in his hands.

A dagger wasn't his weapon of choice. If he had the chance, he would exchange it for a sword—something with reach, something that suited him better. But for now, this would have to do.

He scanned his surroundings. The forest was dense, its towering trees stretching toward the sky like silent sentinels.

Thick undergrowth sprawled across the forest floor, their leaves rustling softly with the occasional gust of wind.

The air was humid, carrying the deep, rich scent of damp earth and old bark. The sounds of cicadas and crickets droned in the background, a constant reminder that the forest was alive.

Oliver moved carefully, each step measured, his body tense but controlled. Ever since he awakened Meta Essence, he could feel the difference—not just in his strength but in his senses.

His hearing was sharper, his vision clearer, his instincts keener. It was as if his body had finally tuned itself to its peak, but he knew that it wouldn't matter if he wasn't careful.

His revival only worked in battle. If something killed him in an instant, there would be no coming back.

SNAP!

A sudden crack, the unmistakable sound of bone snapping under sharp teeth interrupted his thoughts.

Oliver froze. He turned his head slowly toward the source of the sound and then, with silent steps, began closing the distance.

Through a break in the trees, he saw them—three Daggerfang Wolves.

They were hunched over something—a carcass, its ribs picked clean, bones still slick with fresh blood.

Their dark gray fur was coarse and matted with grime and streaks of red. Their most distinctive feature was their namesake—razor-sharp fangs, elongated and curved, designed to tear through flesh with ease.

Their eyes gleamed with predatory hunger, and their clawed paws dug into the earth as they feasted.

Oliver didn't hesitate. This was a perfect opportunity. He shifted his stance, tightened his grip on the dagger, and lunged forward.

End Of Chapter Five