Chapter 9 Barely Survived

Kaelvren's surroundings became clearer as he was regaining his consciousness. He was sitting on the thick, gnarled tree branch that was jutting out from the sheer rock wall of the cliffside. His entire body ached from the long night struggle to stay balanced. His left arm was the only thing keeping him from falling into the abyss below, fingers gripping the bark with deadly force. His legs were wrapped tightly around the branch, securing himself in place as best as he could. His body refused to let go, even as exhaustion threatened to claim him once more.

Below him, a roaring river thrashed violently against jagged rocks. The drop was terrifying. If he fell, the sharp stone below would shatter his body long before the water could pull him under. But what caught his attention was the mountain beyond the river—tall, ominous, reaching into the heavens. He had never seen a mountain like this before, not in his real life. He had no idea how far it stretched or what lay at its peak.

If I can reach the top… maybe I'll find a way out of this trial.

A flicker of hope sparked in his mind. If this world had any escape, perhaps it would be from the highest vantage point. But then reality set in.

Going up was a suicide mission. He could hear the monstrous growls and distant scraping of claws against stone above him. Something was up there. And it was hunting.

Staying put meant starvation or thirst.

Jumping down without a plan meant either drowning or being crushed against the rocks.

His jaw tightened. What kind of damn choice is this?!

A bitter laugh escaped him, but frustration quickly seeped into his voice.

"I'm trapped." His words echoed in the silence.

But no. He refused to accept death. If he had to gamble his life, it would be with his own hands.

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Survival First

Kaelvren gritted his teeth and focused on his immediate concern—his missing arm. The wound had already begun to regenerate, stopping the worst of the blood loss, but he was still bleeding. That was a death sentence if left unchecked.

He reached into his hide belt—which he had made from the hide of a monster he had slain—and pulled out a thin strip of hide. It was a makeshift rope he had crafted for emergencies. Right now, this was the emergency.

Wrapping the strip tightly around the stump of his right arm, just below his shoulder, he pulled hard. His vision blurred as a surge of agonizing pain tore through him. His jaw clenched, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he bit down against the pain. A groan forced its way from his throat, but he didn't stop. Every unnecessary drop of blood escaping from him would only weaken him further.

He couldn't afford that.

It's worth the pain.

Once the wound was secured, he reached for the last of his supplies—dried meat he had tied to his belt. He tore a piece off with his teeth and started chewing it mechanically. It tasted like dust and old leather, but he forced himself to swallow.

Energy. I need every ounce of it.

As the food gave him a sliver of strength, his mind cleared, analyzing his options.

Climbing up? A death wish. The beasts above would tear him apart.

Staying here? A slow, painful death.

Jumping into the river? Madness. But madness was better than certain death.

His lips curled into a grim smirk.

Then I'll make my own way.

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A Desperate Plan

Kaelvren's gaze shifted to the branch he clung to. An idea formed—a desperate, reckless idea.

A raft.

If he could cut the branch loose, he could use it as a makeshift float to ride the river. It was a gamble, but it was the only one he had.

Without hesitation, he summoned his dagger from his soul core, the blade appearing in his trembling hand. With every ounce of strength, he drove it into the base of the branch.

The wood cracked but resisted. He gritted his teeth and continued stabbing again and again until his arms burned from the effort.

Break, damn it!

With one final and desperate strike—SNAP!

Time seemed to Frozen.

For a fleeting moment, he was like a weightless Bird Then he fell.

The wind echo in his ears. His heart pounded like a war drum. The river below rushed up to swallow him.

For a brief second, he wondered—Is this where I die after all?

Then—BAM!

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The Cold Embrace

Darkness.

The world vanished into nothing but cold.

Water pressed in from all sides, numbing his limbs instantly. His mind blurred, slipping between reality and unconsciousness.

But deep within, a single instinct screamed at him:

Move. Breathe. Survive.

Kaelvren clenched his jaw and murmured,

For a drowning man, even a matchstick is enough to stay afloat.

And right now, that branch was his only lifeline.