Chapter 13

I woke up earlier than usual the next day, the sky still dark with only the faintest hints of dawn in the distance. The city was quiet, but I could feel the world beginning to stir. Today, I was prepared for something different—something beyond the marketplace or the library. Today, I was heading into the wilds.

I took my time dressing, starting with the custom-made padding I'd meticulously crafted over the past few days. It wasn't just for comfort; it was loaded with protection runes that I'd inscribed on the inside, far from prying eyes. Each stitch was carefully reinforced with magic, the padding designed to harden on impact, repelling attacks or accidents without compromising my movement. Over that went the leather armor I'd bought. On the outside, it looked plain, unimpressive even—just a set of well-worn, secondhand gear like any other hunter might wear. But on the inside? It was a different story entirely.

Complex runes. Layer upon layer of protection. Fire resistance, impact dispersion, a defense against sharp weapons—all hidden within the unassuming surface. There was power in keeping things subtle, and I liked the idea of walking around in something nobody would suspect. Armor, like magic, works best when it's not immediately obvious.

Once I was dressed, I stepped outside and into the streets of the lower city. The morning had barely started, the sun still tucked beneath the horizon, but the delivery people were already up and about. I could hear the clatter of carts rolling over the cobblestone, the soft murmur of voices as bakers began their work. The scent of fresh bread was already starting to waft through the air, mixing with the cool breeze of the early hours. It was comforting in a way—this city waking up, its day beginning like clockwork, indifferent to anything that happened outside its walls.

I walked through the streets, my steps quiet against the stone, guided by the soft glow of magical lamps that dotted the roads. They were subtle things, these lamps. Just enough light to see by, a pale glow that flickered now and then like a candle. They seemed almost alive, dimming and brightening as if responding to the world around them. I wondered who had created them—what kind of runes powered them. Maybe one day, I'd figure it out. But not today.

Today, I wasn't thinking about the city. I was heading beyond it, toward the wilderness.

As I made my way through the lower levels, I passed the familiar sights of the morning city. The bakery doors swung open to greet the first customers of the day—families and shopkeepers picking up fresh loaves before the day's work began. A group of children darted past, chasing each other in a game that involved a lot of shrieking and laughter, their carefree joy cutting through the early morning calm. I watched them for a moment, feeling the lightness of their spirits, before turning my gaze back to the path ahead.

I passed through the final gate and stepped into the countryside, where the city's influence faded and the wilderness took over. There was something liberating about it—leaving the confines of the city behind, stepping into a world that felt raw, untamed. Out here, it was just me and the land. No eyes watching, no walls to cage me in. The air was cleaner, fresher, filled with the scent of damp earth and wild grasses.

The gate for hunters was open, guarded by a couple of soldiers who barely glanced in my direction. They were used to seeing hunters head out at all hours, and my nondescript leather armor made me blend in well enough. I gave them a nod as I passed through the massive stone archway and into the darkness beyond.

The wilderness greeted me like an old friend, the soft hum of nature replacing the distant noises of the city. Out here, the world felt different. Wilder, yes, but also... quieter. Calmer. The hustle of the marketplace, the chatter of the taverns—it all faded into the background as the sounds of the forest took over. The rustle of leaves in the early morning breeze, the soft hoot of an owl somewhere nearby, the faint trickle of a stream just beyond the treeline.

This is what I needed. The city had been stifling lately, its walls closing in around me. But here, with the sky still dark and the wilderness stretching out before me, I could breathe again. I could think clearly.

As I made my way toward the nearest hills, I took in the sights and sounds around me. The trees were tall and ancient, their bark rough and gnarled from centuries of growth. The forest floor was alive with small movements—creatures stirring from their burrows as they began their day. A pair of rabbits darted through the underbrush, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as they'd appeared. Somewhere overhead, a hawk circled lazily, its keen eyes scanning the ground below for its next meal.

The sun was still low, casting the world in shades of deep blue and purple. The horizon was just beginning to lighten, a soft glow creeping into the sky. It wouldn't be long before the world was bathed in the warm golds and pinks of dawn, but for now, the darkness still held its grip. I liked this time of day—just before the light took over, when the world felt like it was on the edge of something. The in-between.

As I climbed the hills, I couldn't help but feel grateful to be out here again. The city had its uses—information, tools, connections—but out here, I felt more myself. There was no pretense, no need to blend in or keep up appearances. Just me and the land, and whatever challenges it decided to throw my way.

The first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon as I reached the top of the hill. The world below me was still cloaked in shadow, but I could see the outline of the forest stretching out for miles. Beyond that, the mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist. This place was beautiful, in its own rough, untamed way. And dangerous, no doubt. But I was prepared for that.

I took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill my lungs. This was what I needed—a break from the noise, the politics, the complexities of city life. Out here, everything was simpler. Survival, focus, action. No need to worry about who was watching or what they thought of me. I could just be.

I started my descent into the valley, my footsteps sure and steady. There was something primal about being out here—something that spoke to a deeper part of me. Maybe it was the knowledge that the wilderness didn't care about titles or power or wealth. Out here, you either survived or you didn't. Simple as that.

The sounds of the forest began to change as the day broke. The birds, silent in the pre-dawn hours, began to sing their morning chorus. The trees creaked and swayed gently in the breeze, the underbrush rustling with the movement of small creatures starting their day. Everything felt alive, buzzing with energy. And so did I.

I pressed on, the sun rising higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the hills. The wilderness was waking up, and I was ready for whatever it had in store. It had been too long since I'd felt this connected, this clear-headed. The city may have its comforts, but out here? This was where I truly belonged.

I had a mission today. Survival wasn't just about getting by—it was about thriving. And today, I was going to make sure I had everything I needed to do just that.

With one last glance at the distant fortified valley wall behind me, I turned my attention forward. The wilderness stretched out before me, endless and full of possibilities. It was time to move. Time to test everything I'd learned. I had my spear and club ready for anything.

When I'd first started exploring this world, I had quickly learned that sticking to the lower valleys was key to survival. The creatures there were dangerous enough, but manageable—at least, with the right runes and some good, old-fashioned street smarts. But as I moved higher into the hills, the forests began to change. The air grew thicker, almost buzzing with magic, and the trees themselves seemed larger, older, more... aware. There was a tension here, a sense of impending danger that hung over everything, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

I wasn't an idiot—I knew the higher I climbed, the more dangerous things would get. And the creatures... well, let's just say the ones down in the lower forests were the kind you'd avoid on a bad day but could probably take on with enough skill. Up here? It was an entirely different game. The air practically vibrated with magic, and the animals weren't just animals anymore. There was something otherworldly about them, as though they were infused with whatever power coursed through this land.

I pressed on, keeping my spear close and my senses sharper than ever. The trees thinned out slightly, revealing an eerie, fog-covered clearing ahead. The kind of place you knew something terrible lived. The birds had gone quiet, and the usual rustling of small creatures in the underbrush had faded into an unnerving stillness. It was as if everything in this part of the forest knew to steer clear.

And then, I saw it.

Tucked into the shadows of the clearing was a massive, gnarled cave entrance, framed by rocks that glowed faintly with rune markings. The lair of something old, something powerful. I stepped closer, my heart pounding in my chest as I considered my options. The problem was, I knew this was one of those moments. The kind that separates the cautious from the ambitious. The smart thing to do? Walk away. Hell, run away.

But I was feeling ambitious. And slightly stupid.

As I edged closer to the cave, the ground rumbled beneath my feet. At first, it was subtle—a vibration I could feel more than hear. But it quickly built into a steady thumping, and I barely had time to react before the creature burst from the darkness.

A hulking beast, easily the size of an elephant, covered in thick, jagged plating that glinted in the faint light of the runes. Its eyes were dark and menacing, its massive paws ending in claws that looked like they could slice through steel. This wasn't just a creature. This was a force of nature, something built to crush and consume anything stupid enough to wander into its domain. And apparently, today, that idiot was me.

The beast snarled, baring fangs the size of my forearm as it advanced, each step shaking the ground beneath it. I didn't have much time to think. I leveled my spear, channeling my mana through the runes inscribed along its shaft. A fireball erupted from the tip, white-hot and screaming through the air toward the creature.

And then it hit the thing's plating.

For a brief second, I thought I had it. The fireball collided with the beast's side, exploding in a bright flash of flame and heat. But then... nothing. The creature barely flinched. Its plated skin shimmered, the magic dispersing like a drop of water on a hot rock. The fire had no effect, and my stomach dropped.

"Oh, come on," I muttered under my breath. Of course, this thing would be resistant to magic. Why wouldn't it be? Because nothing in this world was going to make it easy for me, apparently.

The beast let out a deafening roar and charged, closing the distance between us in a blink. I barely had time to react before it was on me, swiping with one of those massive claws. My runic armor took the hit, absorbing the force of the blow, but it still sent me sprawling back into the dirt. The impact rattled through my bones, and I could feel the strain on my magical defenses. They were holding—for now—but this wasn't sustainable. If I didn't figure out a way to end this quickly, my armor would buckle under the relentless attacks.

Rolling to my feet, I dodged another swing from the creature, narrowly avoiding those deadly claws. I needed to get closer. Fireballs weren't going to cut it. The only way to take this thing down was by getting in tight.

I gripped my club, the runes along its length glowing faintly as I poured my mana into it. It was the oldest weapon I had, and honestly, I hadn't expected to rely on it against something like this. But it had one advantage over my spear—it didn't need to rely on magic. It was pure, brute force.

I charged in low, ducking under the beast's next swipe, and brought the club down with all my strength on its exposed underbelly. The impact was solid, the runes flaring as they transferred the force directly into the creature's body. It let out a pained roar, staggering back, but it wasn't done yet.

It swung its head down, jaws snapping inches from my face. I ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding being turned into a chew toy, and drove the club into its side again, this time aiming for a joint in the plating. The creature shuddered, its movements becoming more erratic, but it was still too damn strong.

My armor absorbed another hit, the magical protection holding, but I could feel the mana reserves draining fast. I didn't have much left. I had to finish this now.

Dodging another swipe, I reversed my grip on the spear and leapt onto the creature's back, driving the tip down with all my strength. The runes on the spear glowed as I channeled every last bit of mana I had left into it. The blade sunk into the beast's skull, piercing through the thick plating with a satisfying crack.

The creature let out one final, earth-shaking roar before collapsing beneath me, its body going limp as I tumbled off its side, landing hard on the ground. My chest heaved as I gasped for breath, my muscles aching from the effort. The world around me went quiet again, the only sound my ragged breathing and the faint rustle of the trees.

I lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky, trying to process what had just happened.

That... was not a normal day at the office.

Pushing myself to my feet, I approached the now-motionless beast, its enormous body still warm from the life that had just left it. I was exhausted, my mana reserves nearly depleted, but I couldn't leave empty-handed. This thing had been a challenge, and I needed to make the most of it.

The first thing I noticed up close was the creature's plating. Thick, ridged scales that shimmered faintly with residual magic. They were clearly resistant to spells—my fireballs had proven that—but the spear had pierced through with enough force. The thought of crafting something out of this armor crossed my mind. If I could fashion pieces of it into my own gear, I'd be nearly invincible in battle. Or at least close to it.

As I examined the beast, I also noticed something else: its claws. Massive, jagged things that looked sharp enough to cut through rock. And there was an aura of power around them—low-level magic, perhaps, but still significant. I'd seen this before in some of the monsters I'd fought in the lower valleys. Their bodies seemed to naturally produce magical energy, which could be harvested and used for runes or enchantments.

I could work with this. Taking out my tools, I began the process of carefully extracting the valuable parts from the creature. Its plating, its claws, even some of its teeth—all of it could be useful. The work was slow, and my body screamed at me to stop, but I pushed through. After all, if I didn't make the most of this kill, what was the point of nearly dying for it?

By the time I was done harvesting the beast, the sun had already climbed to its midday peak, casting long shadows through the dense forest canopy. Sweat clung to my skin, and the air felt heavier with the weight of the task. I'd packed all the valuable materials into my storage stone, marveling once again at how useful the thing was. The sheer amount of stuff it could hold was absurd, and I had to wonder why not everyone had one of these. I imagined it wasn't the kind of item sold at the local market stall next to the fresh bread. Probably something reserved for the elite. Still, a part of me couldn't help but shake my head at how inefficient people were without them.

I turned my attention back to the task at hand: butchering the beast. A part of me cringed at the sight of its massive, lifeless form sprawled across the forest floor. The fight had been brutal, but this was something else entirely. Taking a life in the heat of battle was one thing, but carving it up afterwards? Well, it wasn't exactly my idea of a fun afternoon.

I pulled out the large knives from my storage stone and got to work, my movements deliberate and methodical. The beast's tough, plated hide gave way under the blade with more difficulty than I expected, and soon I was elbow-deep in muscle, sinew, and bone. Each slice and tear was met with a wet, squelching sound—the kind that made your stomach turn if you let yourself think about it too much.

But I couldn't afford to be squeamish. Not here. Not in this world.

As I worked, I found myself taking more than I probably needed—bones, teeth, claws, and even some strange, magical organs that pulsed faintly with residual energy. The storage stone could hold it all, so why not? Time and space weren't an issue, and it's not like I was going to waste anything that could be useful. But a small part of me wondered if I was pushing my luck. There had to be a line between practicality and greed, and I was dangerously close to crossing it.

The grim process dragged on, each section of the beast more gruesome than the last. The smell of blood was thick in the air, mixed with the faint scent of magic that still clung to the creature's carcass. Every now and then, I'd glance at the forest around me, half-expecting some other creature to show up, drawn by the scent of fresh kill. But nothing came. For now, I was safe.

By the time I finished, the sun had shifted, casting long, lazy shadows across the clearing. I stood up, wiping sweat from my brow, feeling both exhausted and oddly satisfied. The beast's remains lay scattered around me, the bulk of its body reduced to manageable parts, most of which were now tucked safely away in the storage stone. There was something surreal about it—about the fact that I could fit an entire creature as large as an elephant into something the size of a pebble.

I sheathed my knives, took a deep breath, and surveyed the area one last time. The fight had been brutal, the butchering even more so, but I had what I came for. It was time to head back to the city before nightfall.

The trek back through the forest was quieter than the journey out had been. The tension that had clung to the air earlier seemed to dissipate now that the beast was dead. But that didn't stop me from staying alert. There was no telling what else might be lurking in these woods. The wilderness had a way of keeping you on edge, reminding you that you were always one misstep away from becoming someone else's prey.

When I finally reached the fortified gate that separated the valley from the wilds, I couldn't help but take a moment to admire it. The fortifications were impressive, with towering stone walls lined with rune markings, clearly designed to ward off anything trying to get inside. Now that I had faced a creature like the one I had just killed, it made sense why they were so adamant about keeping the monsters at bay. If that thing had wandered into the city, it would have been a disaster. And that was just one creature. Who knew what else was out there?

I passed through the gate with a nod to the guards, who barely acknowledged me. They were used to hunters coming and going, and though I didn't exactly fit the usual mold, they had seen enough strange things in this world that I probably didn't warrant more than a passing glance.

It was a short walk past the fort to the city as I moved with the crowd. The city itself was a different kind of beast. As I made my way through the streets, the fading sunlight cast the buildings in a warm, golden glow. People were beginning to close up their shops for the day, the hustle and bustle of the market winding down as evening approached. The smell of roasting meat and fresh bread filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of music and laughter. For a moment, I felt like I was back on Earth, walking through some ancient Roman city at dusk.

But this wasn't Earth. And I wasn't just some random tourist. I was a man trying to survive in a world that seemed hell-bent on making that as difficult as possible.

When I finally reached my shop, the exhaustion hit me all at once. Every muscle in my body ached, and the weight of the day settled heavily on my shoulders. I made my way inside, shut the door behind me, and dropped my pack with a sigh of relief. The warmth of the room was a welcome contrast to the chill of the wilderness, and for the first time in hours, I allowed myself to relax.

The first thing I did was strip off my armor, piece by piece, until I was down to the simple tunic underneath. The armor had done its job well, protecting me from the beast's claws and magic, but wearing it for so long had taken its toll on my body. My shoulders were sore from the weight, and my legs ached from the strain of constant movement. But it had been worth it. The fight had tested both my gear and my resolve, and I had come out on top.

I glanced at the pile of armor on the floor, the runes etched into the leather and metal still glowing faintly in the dim light of the room. It wasn't flashy, but it was effective. And that was all that mattered. Tomorrow, I'd take some time to inspect it, maybe even enhance it further with the materials I had gathered from the beast. But for now, I was done.

I collapsed onto the small cot in the corner of the room, my body sinking into the worn mattress. The day had been long, brutal, and exhausting, but there was a deep sense of satisfaction that came with it. I had faced the wilderness, faced a creature that could have killed me, and I had won. The city might offer safety behind its walls, but out there? That was where the real challenges lay. And I was ready for them.

As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but think about what tomorrow would bring. There was still so much to learn, so much to discover in this world. And I wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.

With one last deep breath, I let sleep take me, knowing that the wilderness—and whatever else this world had to throw at me—would be waiting when I woke up. But for tonight, at least, I was safe.