Night attack

Every decision I made seemed to stem from primal instinct rather than logical reasoning. I had no absolute certainty I was doing the right thing; I could well be trading a known danger for one even more lethal.

The main path might lead me straight into a deadly ambush, but who could guarantee there weren't venomous snakes waiting to sink their fangs into my ankles among the tall grass flanking my improvised route? If I had the necessary skills, I would have used the trees as a natural means of transport, but beyond some recreational climbing experience, I lacked the innate agility of primates.

I persisted in my parallel advance along the main road until I finally reached a vantage point offering a panoramic view of the terrain.

Before me stretched a small clearing bathed in twilight; the only obvious way to access it, without navigating dense vegetation or ancient trees, was the very path I had cautiously avoided.

This moment represented my only favorable opportunity to approach the lake glimmering like a silver mirror at the clearing's center. I had to seize the chance or forever abandon what might be my salvation.

I gazed at the crystalline waters, scarcely believing what my weary eyes beheld. Beyond my reflection, marred by dirt and blood, something in the lake's depths seemed to emit dense pulses of energy, creating concentric ripples on the surface.

—Doesn't this mean that all the region's most powerful beasts would come here to drink after completing their evolutionary cycles? —I murmured to myself, calculating the risks of my approach.

Even if I continued following the river downstream, based on the knowledge I had previously acquired about such ecosystems, I knew it would be futile. With such a concentration of energy flowing freely, it would undoubtedly follow the river's course and increase in density over countless kilometers. The longer it took me to complete this trial floor, the more adverse the conditions for my survival would become.

—How can I get water? —I wondered aloud, as if voicing the question could conjure a saving answer.

Fruit? Rain? Blood?

These were the only alternatives my exhausted mind could muster, but none offered a reliable long-term solution.

Fruits or vegetables might provide temporary hydration, but for how long would they suffice? A few more days, perhaps?

Considering the physical toll I subjected my body to daily, I could already feel my throat aching from dryness and my strength waning. If not for my extraordinary innate resilience, I likely would have succumbed to unconsciousness long ago.

Rain? I was, after all, in a forest environment. In such an ecosystem, precipitation could occur every few hours under normal circumstances.

However, not a single drop had fallen from the sky in the past day. Moreover, I was unaware of how the introduction of stellar energy into this world might affect the local climate balance. Even if a storm finally broke, it would be risky to place all my hopes on this unpredictable source.

If I chose to blindly trust in the arrival of rain, how would I capture every drop? My mobility was my greatest strategic advantage at the moment, but to establish a reliable rainwater collection system, I would need a permanent, protected base. What would happen if my shelter was discovered and destroyed one day, losing all the water I had painstakingly stored?

Considering blood as a hydration source was the most desperate and repulsive option. How could I, in full possession of my faculties, drink the greenish blood of goblins? Even if I were willing to take such a horrific risk, I knew blood contained sodium concentrations nearly as high as seawater. I would be condemning myself to a slow death by hyperosmolar dehydration.

After brief but intense deliberation, I made an impulsive decision. I plunged my head into the lake's waters without further thought. After enduring the glacial cold the previous night, the contact with the cool water felt surprisingly pleasant to my exhausted body.

I drank large gulps with animal desperation, and for the first time since starting this trial, I didn't keep my senses on hyperalert, constantly wary of any creature that might consider my flesh a tempting feast.

A full minute passed before I resurfaced, gasping.

—This is too risky —I reprimanded myself as I caught my breath.

I felt a subtle tremor coursing through my body, a sensation I had never experienced before. The idea of slowly dying from dehydration replayed in my mind with such intensity that I might as well have lived it in some past existence.

That was the fate awaiting me. No matter how many clever strategies I could devise, that seemed to be my inescapable destiny. There was no escape from this relentless reality.

If I left this place today, I would begin a desperate race against my body's progressive exhaustion. Even in the unlikely event I managed to endure, what pitiful state would I be in afterward? Would I have enough strength to make the return journey?

I had relentlessly tracked those goblins for countless hours, covering dozens of kilometers of hostile terrain, and despite my perseverance, I hadn't discovered a single alternative water source in any other corner of this cursed forest.

I loathed that overwhelming sense of helplessness gnawing at me from within, which is why I had made the reckless decision to risk visiting this dangerous but vital place for my survival.

My bloodshot eyes reflected in the lake's trembling surface, crimson glints dancing among the ripples as if trying to reveal something I couldn't decipher. There was no fear in my gaze, nor desperation, but an opacity that unsettled me. My mind found an incomprehensible void in that moment. But before I could untangle my thoughts, a distant sound snapped me out of my introspection: the deep voice of a man, barely an echo among the trees whispering secrets to the wind.

My body tensed like a bow about to fire, muscles rigid beneath my scarred skin, senses surging to maximum alert.