Trial By Vine

With new paths opening up and endless opportunities tugging at my soul, I needed to create something meaningful—something permanent.

A reason to return. A symbol of who we were and what we'd built together.

So I got to work.

The blueprint formed in my mind the moment I pictured it: a tall totem, four meters high, carved from a single pine trunk. I would dye it with crushed berries and flower pigments. It would stand at the entrance to the village—a welcome, a warning, a memory.

Three symbols.

One for each of the original classes.

At the base, I carved the fighter's mark—because they had held the line when everything burned. Above it, in the center, the builder's symbol—those of us who gave the community shape, form, and shelter. At the top, the pathfinder's compass—those who led us to water, food, and answers. The ones who dared go first.

I asked a few nearby fighters—ones who hadn't yet set off—to help lift it. They grunted, strained, and then stepped back with wide eyes.

"It's beautiful," one said.

"It feels… right," said another.

The carving had come easily, almost like the wood wanted to be shaped. No mistakes. No second attempts.

We planted the totem in the earth at the village's edge. It stood tall, straight, and strangely alive. People stopped to stare. Some placed a hand on it in passing. Some whispered thanks.

It gave the feeling of home.

But now… my focus shifted. The Guiding Light still pulled me—stronger than before. Westward.

I gathered supplies: food, water, my scimitar. I packed it all in a crude hide satchel and began asking around for others heading west.

Four said yes. I already knew them from the village build.

Two girls—Sarah and Victoria, both around seventeen—once builders, but now bearing new marks I didn't recognize.

Two guys—Theo, a 20-year-old former fighter with quiet confidence, and Finn, a 15-year-old ex-pathfinder who never stopped talking.

"Everyone ready?" Theo asked as we gathered at the gate.

We nodded.

"Alright. Let's move."

Finn led the way, tapping trees with a carved stick. "My new class is Scout," he said cheerfully. "Got a skill called Far-Sight. Let's me see really far. Shocking, I know."

Only three days had passed since the screens appeared, but most people had already discovered their new class skills. Mine was called Blueprint Memory—it let me recall the exact steps and details needed to craft any tool or structure I'd seen before, as if my hands already knew how to make it.

We traveled half a day before Sarah paused. "My pull's shifting—north."

Victoria stepped beside her. "Mine too. North-west, anyway. Close enough."

They waved goodbye and veered off the path together.

That left the three of us—Theo, Finn, and me.

We made camp near dusk, just off the trail beneath a canopy of tall black pines. I pitched a simple lean-to and built a fire. We sat around it, eating dried meat and telling stories. Finn mostly told stories. I slept better than I had in days.

By morning, Theo's Guiding Light had veered south. He wished us luck and turned away without a word.

Then it was just me and Finn.

"So this one time," Finn said as we walked, "I saw this green-skinned thing with a sword—"

"A goblin?" I asked, holding up my scimitar.

His eyes lit up. "Exactly like that!"

He chattered nonstop, sometimes pointing out strange birds or warning me about dangerous paths. At one point, we rerouted around a massive bear he spotted in the distance.

Eventually, my Guiding Light began pulling sharply to the right.

"Well," I said, slowing, "guess it's my turn."

Finn didn't hear me. He was halfway through describing some kind of winged squirrel.

I smiled, waved, and stepped off the path.

The moment I was alone, something shifted in me.

I felt alive.

This was freedom. Possibility. The forest here was different—thick with twisted willow trees, their leaves hanging like hair. Strange purple vines crawled over rocks. The air smelled… odd.

Then I smelled rotten eggs.

I followed the stench to a clump of yellow plants—four massive bulbous pods arranged like a claw. The further I went, the weirder things got. Some plants had eyes. Some lashed out with tendrils. My chisel made quick work of them.

Then I saw it.

A glow—soft, pulsing green—spilling through the branches like breath.

I pushed through the willows and found a stone pillar. Almost exactly like my totem—but it bore only one symbol.

The builder's mark.

It hummed, deep and steady.

Below the mark, I saw a carved indentation.

Chisel-shaped.

Slowly, I pulled my chisel from my belt and pressed it into the hollow.

It clicked.

The chisel began to glow.

A screen appeared in front of me.

[Level Stone Discovered]

[Current Status]

[Name]: Kairo Veldt

[Title]: None

[Level]: 1/99

[Job]: N/A

[Class]: Crafter

[Subclass]: N/A

As soon as I finished reading, the screen disappeared—only to be replaced by another.

[Quest Unlocked]: Ruins

[Description]: Explore the ruins.

Note: Low-level plant creatures reported within.

[Accept Quest?]

[Yes] | [No]

I hesitated.

Ruins. Monsters. Alone.

But then I remembered: low-level. This was meant for someone like me — someone just starting.

I tapped [Yes].

A new screen appeared:

[Quest Accepted]

[Opening ruin doors…]

The screen vanished.

A low rumble echoed nearby. I turned toward the sound just as a section of stone—what I thought was just another mossy boulder—began to shift.

Grinding. Splitting. Sliding.

A hidden entrance revealed itself—rectangular, clean-cut, unnatural. Beyond it, a stairway descended into darkness, lit by torches burning with eerie green flame.

The air that flowed out was damp, thick with the scent of old roots and earth.

I gripped my chisel tighter.

Thirty stone steps spiraled down beneath the ruin. The air grew colder with each one. Damp. Still.

I entered a wide chamber.

Crude stone walls framed the space, and patches of loose dirt broke through the uneven floor. The only light came from the flickering green torches lining the stairs behind me.

Then a screen appeared in front of me:

[A Monster Approaches]

[Tangle Husk – Level 2, Plant-type Monster]

The screen vanished — and the ceiling came alive.

Vines slithered down like veins, stretching toward the ground. A creature began to form, knotting and writhing into shape. Thick cords of bark and muscle wound together, with four large yellow bulbs pulsing along its body like tumors. The Tangle Husk clung upside-down to the ceiling, swaying, watching.

It stared at me — no eyes, but it saw me.

One of the yellow bulbs detached and plummeted to the floor. It hit with a wet thud, squirmed, then cracked open.

Something crawled out. A wiry, spider-like thing made of roots and moss.

[Husk Spawn – Level 1, Plant-type Monster]

It hissed and lunged at me.

I slashed downward with my scimitar — missed.

It darted sideways, fast. Too fast.

I barely had time to react before it sprang again — straight at my face.

I brought my chisel up and swung, hard.

Crunch.

The blade split the creature in two. It dropped, twitching, then melted into a long, fibrous strand of vine.

[Drop: Strong Vine]

I grabbed it quickly, stuffing it into my bag, then turned back toward the Tangle Husk.

Another bulb was already forming.

I muttered, "If I don't take out the source, it'll keep spawning these things."

But it was still on the ceiling — too high for my sword to reach. All I had were tools, food, and this new vine.

And then I remembered — the torches.

I sprinted back to the stairs and yanked one from the wall. The green fire didn't burn me, but it shimmered unnaturally, hotter than normal flame.

I ran back to the main chamber.

The Tangle Husk turned slightly, as if sensing my plan.

I didn't hesitate.

I hurled the torch.

It hit.

The creature ignited instantly. The green flames spread fast, racing up its body, down its tendrils, consuming it like dry grass.

The Tangle Husk screeched — a sharp, high-pitched howl that echoed through the ruins — then detached from the ceiling and crashed to the floor in a heap of fire and ash.

A screen appeared:

[Drops]: 4 Strong Vines | Husk Core | Vine Armor Blueprint

The ashes of the Tangle Husk twisted and curled in on themselves — then reformed into tangible items, solid and waiting.

I quickly stuffed the vines into my bag, then knelt to examine the other two.

The Husk Core was warm in my hand — a deep yellow center wrapped in an orange outer shell. It pulsed faintly, like it was still alive, or remembering life.

I unrolled the Vine Armor Blueprint next. Letters shimmered across the page:

Materials Required:

• 3 Husk Cores

• 10 Strong Vines

• 1 Red Vine Core

As soon as I read it, a screen replaced the paper in front of me:

[Blueprint Memory Unlocked]: Vine Armor

Then the blueprint in my hands dissolved into golden dust — vanishing as if it had never existed.

Suddenly, knowledge bloomed in my mind. I knew how to craft the armor. Every step, every technique, the pressure to twist the vines just right, the core placement, even the stitching pattern — it was all there.

And then the Guiding Light surged.

Stronger. Closer. Urging me forward.

I turned. Another door stood at the far end of the chamber — slightly cracked, with a faint green glow leaking from beneath. A rusted lever waited beside it.

I approached slowly, heart racing.

Then, without hesitation…

I grabbed the lever and pulled.