The border of the Dark Forest with something that could boldly be called a blooming clearing was as beautiful as it was fascinating.
The black soil of the Dark Forest gradually gave way; with every meter its color seemed to grow lighter, more brown and earthy than black-gray. As if the very ground was gradually gaining, with increasing distance from the Dark Forest, more and more Life Energy.
This also strengthened Krystian in his belief that the phrase "Cursed land" might have more meanings than he had initially thought.
Despite this, Krystian did not step more than three paces onto the clearing. He stepped just far enough to feel the grass between the toes of his bare foot.
He stopped for a simple reason. In the Dark Forest there was a deafening silence, with occasional roars of undead beasts that were as terrifying as they were useful. For Krystian, it was then easy to determine which direction not to go in order to avoid encountering an undead beast too strong for his currently weak body.
However, on this clearing, the grass mostly reached over half a meter in height, and its density was almost frightening.
He could not point to any particular species of monsters or dangerous creatures of such low stature. But he knew that there could truly be many such beings, and death even from a bite might be the kindest kind of death—if something dangerous was hiding in the thicket of that enormous grass.
Fortunately, not far from the border with the Dark Forest, on the green terrain, a short distance from the place where Krystian had first left the forest, there was a spot with several trees about half a meter in circumference.
Their arrangement Krystian considered a good sign from fate or from a Deity, if any was watching over him. From a bird's-eye view, if one were to draw simple, slightly rounded lines from tree to tree, a semicircle would form with its interior facing toward the Dark Forest.
Krystian did not know much about survival, but he had watched enough material on the subject to know that shelter, fire, and food were three essential requirements.
All the more so when one does not know where the nearest civilization is, and rescue may never come.
So after a brief moment of reflection, Krystian began building his makeshift base. Fortunately, there were truly quite a lot of branches lying around the trees.
Dry branches, which looked like they would burn easily, he set aside. Next to them he placed several with a wetter consistency due to resin. The remaining larger quantity of branches he used to create makeshift walls.
He built the walls using a fairly simple tactic. Between two trees, at equal distances, he drove branches into the ground with the help of a bone mace (a femur), then, like a snake, he wove branches—once on the left side of a driven-in branch, then on the right side of a driven-in branch.
He did the same with the spaces between the remaining branches, and filled the gaps with grass and earth. The soil was rich in clay and fertile enough to be easily used as a makeshift binding agent. He obtained the soil from inside the semicircle, thus creating a slight depression in the terrain.
The walls themselves were perhaps half a meter high, maybe slightly more. The roof, meanwhile, consisted of the lightest branches covered with dense grass.
Krystian filled the depression with grass; there was no shortage of it in this meadow. It was meant to provide him with a minimum of comfort and limit contact with the cold ground.
However, after completing all of this, Krystian sat down tired and, looking at his work with a slightly proud gaze, thought that no one would believe he had built it himself.
And that very thought almost immediately made him sad. He had found himself in a fantasy world—he had dreamed of this many times. Magic, fighting monsters, beautiful women, adventures, and the feeling of being someone great, exceptional.
Yet in reality, only a few of those things had come true at the moment.
A wave of negative thoughts flooded his mind, so using the remnants of his wiser side, he decided in the meantime to try to start a fire.
Krystian had fought monsters, adrenaline intertwined with terror and fear for his life. And although he could now say that despite his unconventional strategy he had won,
he could not say that he did not enjoy the fight, especially when he managed to devise a strategy. He felt control, and now, from the perspective of time, he admitted that he wanted more of that feeling.
However, that coin had two sides—the fear of death was terrifying. Risking one's life for advancement and a thrill was not worth much if the smallest mistake could end in injury or death.
That was likely how ordinary people in this world thought as well. But that raised another question—if the skeleton retained so much strength after becoming a monster, then what basic strength does an ordinary villager possess, for whom fighting and killing monsters is a last resort?
Krystian understood, however, that in his case fighting monsters was not only a requirement to reach civilization. Without killing monsters and without training his physical aspects, even an ordinary whore in a brothel could break his bones, if his mathematics and the contrast between the stat numbers and the real world around him were correct.
And that was only his observation regarding the physical aspect of himself.
Mentally, Krystian felt like he was on a camping trip far from home, only alone. Thoughts that he would never see his family or his home again truly struck at a person's psyche, which is why, understanding this, he tried to focus on everything else. But now it was difficult.
He was the second child of his parents; he had an older sister and a younger brother. And from his own perspective and from his parents' comments, he knew that he was the composed, less explosive brother on whom most of the responsibilities fell. And although he had often had enough of domestic quarrels, now, looking at the flames of the campfire,
Krystian would give everything he had just to make a short phone call to his mother and tell her that he was alive and safe. And although his situation was dangerous, he would give everything of himself to create his own path in this world.
Searching for a way back? No. Although he missed his family, the prospect of returning to a world of boring work, romantic loneliness, and stagnation tied to being bored with the entire world was not a good option.
If he were to think about something like that, Krystian would prefer to create a magical circle that would summon his family to this world. But he would do it only when he became a rich and powerful Alchemist, Wizard, or King. Maybe a Demon Lord surrounded by sexy women. Then summoning his family to this world would make sense....
"That's what I'll do...."
And although he sensed that his siblings—especially his sister—might not be pleased with such a summoning, he did not care too much. He decided that motivating himself with the thought of bringing his family to this world would allow him to get rid of his longing. He focused on that, and it helped a little. He still felt sadness, but constantly repeating to himself that this was his path and imagining his family's reactions when they saw him as a Demon Lord, in various comedic scenes, slowly improved his mood.
The fire was lit after thirty minutes of internal monologue; the method of starting it was relatively simple—most of the stones on the border of the Dark Forest were flint.
However, those very stones were also a mystery. Why were there so many of them? According to his knowledge, such stones were connected to the accumulation of silica in the Sea and were most often found near that type of body of water. They also formed naturally on land, but not on such a large scale.
Krystian speculated that perhaps what had limited the expansion of the Dark Forest was closely connected to a specific Subtype of Water Magic. Perhaps a Magical Force Field with a strong water magic attribute.
Now, having shelter, Krystian had to determine what to do next. Based on the position of the sun and the hope that a day in this world lasted the same as in his original world, he speculated that it was currently around three in the afternoon. So he still had some time before the sun would set, and the cold night and the fear of an attack from every side would become a several-hour norm.
As for hunger, apart from slight thirst he did not feel hungry, but he understood that it was only a matter of time. Therefore, he decided to take a closer look at his surroundings, at the trees at the base of which he had built his shelter. Visually, they resembled an oak, but one of them bore fruit. Peculiar fruit—their appearance resembled a gourd, yet the color of the skin looked more like a banana. Quite a peculiar hybrid of fruits, but it was a hope for a basic source of food without going deeper into the meadow, where the dangers might be too great.
Climbing the tree, especially the one with fruit, would have been easier if several dozen minutes earlier he had not broken most of the branches. However, the remaining branches were either too small or broke under his weight. If Krystian had not grabbed a branch at the last moment, he might have fallen straight onto the newly built shelter, but fortunately his reflexes saved him from that.
And although Krystian wanted to pluck all the fruit and have a supply of food at hand, his wiser part of the mind quickly stopped him. He did not know how quickly the fruit would spoil, so gathering only enough to fill his stomach and leaving the rest on the tree was a good strategy.
-----------------------
Name: Fruit of Mirgawa
Type: Cultivated Tree Subtype: Orchard Flora
Element: Earth / Sun / Water
Description:
A modest, medium-height orchard tree with a slightly twisted trunk and broad, matte green leaves. Its fruit grows in clusters, hanging downward in curved, elongated forms.
The skin of the fruit is smooth and warm yellow with faint pale streaks. The shape resembles a gently spiraled gourd, tapering at one end. The flesh inside is soft, fragrant, and golden-cream in color, with small, edible seeds arranged in loose strands.
When ripe, the fruit emits a subtle honeyed aroma detectable from several meters away.
Properties:• ????
------------------------------
"Mirgawa… Like a banana fucked a gourd… even tasty… Wait.."
The taste of the fruit was easiest for him to compare to a banana-strawberry milkshake. The peel was like that of a banana, and the inside almost the same as well, but in the shape of a gourd. The color of the flesh was a mixture of green and yellow.
However, the aftertaste—or rather, the effect after eating one fruit—was quite peculiar. He felt like a young man who had drunk an energy drink for the first time. Yet instead of his heart beating faster, it calmed down, and he felt something like stimulation mixed with refreshment.
But above all, his fatigue receded by a certain percentage. He was quite sore and tired from building the shelter and starting the fire, not to mention the long journey he had traveled.
Yet this fruit had special properties—not strong enough that eating one would regenerate all his strength, but as if simply eating it had caused part of his fatigue and pain to disappear.
-----------------------
Name: Fruit of Mirgawa
Type: Cultivated Tree Subtype: Orchard Flora
Element: Earth / Sun / Water
Description:
A modest, medium-height orchard tree with a slightly twisted trunk and broad, matte green leaves. Its fruit grows in clusters, hanging downward in curved, elongated forms.
The skin of the fruit is smooth and warm yellow with faint pale streaks. The shape resembles a gently spiraled gourd, tapering at one end. The flesh inside is soft, fragrant, and golden-cream in color, with small, edible seeds arranged in loose strands.
When ripe, the fruit emits a subtle honeyed aroma detectable from several meters away.
Properties:•
•Low Energy Injection– Restores 5–8% of overall physical stamina.– Reduces perceived muscle fatigue.
• Weak Pulse Stabilization– Stabilizes heart rhythm to a slight degree.– Removes the effect of "shakiness" and excessive stimulation.
• Low Increase in Concentration– Slightly increases concentration for 15–20 minutes.– Does not cause a sudden drop in energy after the effect ends.
• Minor Weak Pain Reduction– Suppresses minor ailments and muscle soreness.– Does not work on serious wounds or fractures.
• Minor Fluid Regeneration– Partially replenishes bodily fluids.
?????
------------------------------
"I'm a living analyzer… so I'll have to eat poison too… fuck… hehe.."
Krystian thought as he saw the completely new range of the fruit's properties. His own observations seemed to only outline the surface of the available information about the Mirgawa fruit. And the system or his innate ability seemed to automatically analyze even what had escaped him. It was cheating—not too great. But considering the passion for Alchemy that was beginning to be born within him, such an ability could turn out to be like divine enlightenment.
"Too bad I don't have fat or something similar, I could make a paste for wounds… not that I know exactly how… but the idea isn't bad."
Short monologues to himself might seem strange from the perspective of a third person. However, being alone, he tried to speak as much as possible. Most often in a whisper, considering the constant need to listen for threats.
However, the thought of making an anesthetic paste for wounds was not a bad idea. Although his knowledge on the subject was limited to survival-themed TV series, he clearly remembered that in order to make such a paste, he would need heated animal fat, tree bark with pain-relieving properties something like salicylate, resin for stickiness, and ash from the campfire.
However, due to the lack of the key ingredient—animal fat—for the time being he had to extinguish his newly discovered enthusiasm for a certain branch of magic, which was alchemy.
To hunt even a simple rabbit, especially in this world where his current strength lagged far behind, for now he had to focus on increasing his present strength.
Gaining strength and killing more meaty creatures was crucial, not only for food but for hides.
Krystian was wearing only a short T-shirt, boxers, and nothing more. And although during the day, even in the Dark Forest, it was pleasantly warm, at night the temperature dropped rapidly, and his weak body might not endure too long without layers of clothing.
So Krystian did the only thing he could at the moment—he spent an hour gathering as much wood as possible to keep the campfire going throughout the night. He knew that he probably would not be able to fall asleep anyway, though he intended to try. However, maintaining the fire was not only a source of warmth but also protected him from wild animals and monsters.
As Krystian tossed a few dry pieces of wood into the fire, a characteristic crunch reached his ears. A crunch his mind knew all too well.
It was the sound of a moving skeleton. Krystian, who until now had been turned with his back to the Dark Forest, instantly turned toward the noise. This was accompanied by the sound of falling wood, caused by his right leg knocking over the pile of firewood.
Controlling his breathing, Krystian quickly grabbed his bone mace (a femur) and the piece of Mirgawa fruit lying on a leaf. Swallowing it quickly, he carefully observed the skeleton that was slowly approaching the edge of the forest.
He watched every step of the skeleton but did not attack. This skeleton held an axe in its hand—heavily worn, covered in rust. Yet it was still a solid piece of metal. Receiving a blow, in this case, could end in a fracture or even death. So Krystian continued to wait.
"Did he slow down… Hehe… Now that's the speed of an Elf-aged Skeleton on the brink of death."
On its own terrain, the undead had a certain speed—not very fast, but at the moment of attack the speed of its swing increased, driven more by gravity than by the skeleton's own strength. However, when the skeleton stepped onto the meadow, its movements instantly slowed, and from its bones rose a faint gray smoke visible to the naked eye. Something like overcooked meat and the rising smoke mentioned earlier.
Despite this, the Skeleton did not seem to suffer damage. Rather, it was as if the terrain of the Dark Forest granted the Skeleton some sort of bonus to its stats. Or perhaps the sun and nature—and with them the life energy rich in various magical elements—not entirely coexisting with Necrotic energy.
However, despite the fact that his opponent was slower, Krystian preferred not to risk a frontal attack, fearing a swing of the axe in his direction. Therefore, he waited until the skeleton stepped a little deeper onto the meadow. And in the meantime, Krystian decided to check the Undead's stats.
-----------------------
Name: None (formerly Jack)Race: Skeleton Gender: MaleAge: 132
Level: 32Titles: Gentle Giant (C) Village Woodcutter (E) Honest Worker (D) Simple Good Man (F) Bigger Than His Tears (C) The Man Who Apologized to Trees (E)Class: FarmerSubclass: Woodcutter
Bloodline: Giant's Echo (Fragmented) Innate Talent: NoneStatus: Healthy
Attributes:Strength – 97Endurance – 65Agility – 3 Intelligence – 5 Perception – 4Will – 5
Skills:
-Lumberjack's Swing (D)
-Deadly Persistence (D)
-Giant's Frame (C)
-Deadly Instinct (D)
------------------------------
"Son of a bitch… that axe probably gives him a few stat points. But damn it."
Lumberjack's Swing. An ability whose very name clearly suggests the way it is executed. And knowing the basics of how a lumberjack cuts a tree, one can easily predict the trajectory of the strikes performed while using this skill.
Truly dangerous.
However, as soon as the skeleton placed its bony foot halfway between the border of the Dark Forest and his hideout, Krystian sprang into action and, gripping his makeshift mace in both hands, ran toward the enemy.
Since the skeleton held the old axe in its right bony hand, Krystian decided to attack from the opposite side. His first successful strike was a blow to the skeleton's left knee.
The undead lumberjack seemed unfazed and instinctively swung in his direction. Fortunately, Krystian was already behind its back, out of the undead's striking range.
"Interesting…"
Krystian noticed that the skeleton let out a hoarse, very quiet whisper during the swing. As if a few words had been spoken through a really low-quality microphone on Discord.
The second issue was the skeleton's reaction time. This individual seemed to possess a much faster reaction speed. Because if not for his momentum, Krystian would probably have received a serious blow or a deep cut.
Despite these facts, Krystian continued executing his slightly reckless strategy. He waited until the skeleton fully turned toward him. Then, sprinting, he struck the undead's left knee and retreated to a safe distance before the skeleton could reach him with its swing.
The difference between level 32 and 4 was truly significant. And if not for the advantage in agility, Krystian would not have even considered fighting this individual.
He felt like a hardcore Dark Souls player killing a boss equipped only with a spoon.
And honestly, the fight was quite monotonous, but also carefully planned. When he lacked the strength to continue the repetitive pattern, he withdrew for a moment to quickly eat a piece of Mirgawa fruit. It restored part of his lost energy and allowed him to keep attacking the undead.
To destroy the skeleton lumberjack's left knee, Krystian needed a total of forty-eight strikes. And honestly, if not for aspects such as basic physics, gravity, or the structural build of the skeleton,
the Undead Lumberjack would have had more than half of his health bar remaining, and the fight with him could have lasted several hours, if not more—considering that depriving him of one leg had taken Krystian an entire hour.
When the skeleton fell, Krystian continued to observe it. He did not want to risk his life without a proper approach. However, seeing the axe that, as a result of the undead's fall, had rolled several meters away from the opponent, Krystian quickly rushed toward it, tossing his bone mace aside. He seized the long-desired weapon and for a few seconds examined it with a smile.
A few seconds—because the skeleton did not try to stand up. That was slightly shocking, although for Krystian it was another valuable piece of information about skeletons. It seemed that if a skeleton sensed that its bony legs were intact, then even if its spine was broken and the upper and lower halves were separated, the undead would, against logic, still try to stand.
However, in the case of the undead lumberjack, when one of its legs had been destroyed, the undead, instead of mindlessly trying to stand, began crawling toward its opponent. Like a maddened zombie.
"It's a bit faster."
To Krystian's surprise, the crawling skeleton displayed slightly greater mobility than its fully functional counterpart. However, despite this, the strategy underwent only a minor adjustment.
Now Krystian, at maximum speed, ran toward the skeleton and struck the blunt side of the axe straight into the skeleton's skull, like a professional golfer hitting a ball.
Unfortunately, one blow was not enough for even a single crack to appear on the undead skeleton's skull. Instead, the skull merely bent unnaturally backward, only to return to its place a moment later. And the Skeleton soon continued its charge at Krystian, who was already ready for another strike.
And so, after the twentieth blow, a crack appeared on the skeleton's forehead. Apparently, even in this world there existed a bit of justice. Because the effort he was exerting now seemed several times greater than when he had been building his shelter.
With each subsequent strike, the crack widened, until finally the Undead Lumberjack's skull could no longer withstand it and shattered. As a result, the skeleton's body, like that of its predecessor, lost its magical presence and turned into devastated fragments of bone scattered across the grass.