"What did she mean by I'll fail and I'll also win... It doesn't make sense."
Revvyn stared at the charcoal clouds for a beat longer, then shook his head. Thinking was for people with time.
He had just three days.
He stepped past the last marker of the village, a rotted fence post and then onto the forest trail.
The rain didn't wait.
It started as a heavy mist, then turned into a cold, lashing downpour within minutes.
The dirt path not only got wet but it dissolved into a slick, grabbing slurry of mud that sucked at his boots like it wanted to pull him under.
The blue shirt Lily had made him became a heavy, sodden weight, clinging to his body like a cold hand.
He walked for two hours as the village sounds faded into the rhythmic thrum of rain on leaves.
The "Outer Woods" were supposed to be the safe part, the place where farmers gathered wood and children played when they were brave enough. But the trees here were already twice the size of those near the farm, their roots humped up through the mud like the spines of buried beasts.
The path narrowed, then narrowed again, until it was barely a deer trail winding between massive trunks.
Revvyn stopped under a massive oak to wring out his hair. Water streamed down his face.
He pressed a hand to his side and felt the bruise through the shirt.
"Let's go, Syll."
The slime chirped, its melon-sized body surging through a puddle. It seemed to enjoy the rain, its indigo surface shimmering with each drop that hit it.
Syll hopped over a root, then another, moving faster than Revvyn could walk. It circled back, chirped again, then took the lead like it knew where they were going.
"You don't know the way either," Revvyn muttered.
Syll chirped anyway.
They'd gone another mile when the rain finally tapered off to a damp, oppressive heat.
Steam rose from the forest floor. The silence that followed was worse than the rain. No birds. No insects. Just the slow, heavy drip of water from the canopy and the squelch of his boots in the mud.
Revvyn stopped. Listened.
Nothing.
Too quiet.
Syll stopped too. Its surface rippled, then turned a jagged, darker purple. The color shift was subtle but clear... Syll had done this before fights, back in the trial. It was sensing something.
Scritch. Scritch.
The sound came from his left. Then his right.
Three feral badgers stepped out from a thicket of thorns. They were mangy, patches of fur missing to reveal pink, scabbed skin underneath. Each was the size of a medium dog, with red eyes fixed on Revvyn.
They moved with a hungry, practiced coordination. Two circling wide to flank him, the lead one hunkering down low, muscles coiling to spring.
F-Rank. Weak alone. Dangerous in a pack.
Revvyn drew the cutlass. The ring of the steel felt honest and cold in the heavy air. He adjusted his grip, feet spreading shoulder-width apart in the mud.
The lead badger lunged.
Revvyn didn't just swing. He stepped into the strike. The cutlass caught the badger mid-leap, the weight of the steel and the animal's own momentum doing the work. The blade cleaved through fur and flesh, through muscle and bone, exiting clean out the other side.
Blood sprayed. Hot. Metallic. It hit his wet boots and steamed in the cooling air.
The badger crumpled. Dead before it hit the ground.
The second one came from the side, faster than Revvyn expected. Its teeth snagged the calf of his trousers and nipped the skin beneath, it wasn't deep, but enough to burn.
Revvyn hissed, spinning and slamming the heavy leather hilt of his sword into the creature's skull. It connected with a dull thunk. The badger skittered back, coughing, shaking its head.
Syll didn't wait for an invitation. The slime launched itself like a blue stone, flying through the air and landing directly on the third badger's head.
There was a muffled shriek, a frantic scratching of claws in the dirt, and then silence as the acid did its work. The badger's body twitched once, twice, then went still.
Revvyn finished the injured one with a quick, grim thrust through the ribs. It squealed once, then lay still.
He stood there, chest heaving, hands shaking slightly around the cutlass grip. His leg burned where the teeth had grazed him. His ribs screamed with every breath. The rain had stopped completely now, leaving only the steam and the blood and the three dead beasts at his feet.
His system beeped.
[You Have Successfully Killed (3) Feral Badgers (Rank F)]
[You Have Received (3) Unallocated Points]
He looked at the carcasses. Three F-rank badgers. Not impressive, but dead was dead.
For a second, he considered carving them open. Even F-rank beasts had cores—tiny, pebble-sized things that could be sold for a few copper at any market. A few copper wasn't much, but it was something. It could buy bread. Could buy bandages.
But as he looked at the mangy fur and the thin, starved bodies, he realized it wasn't worth the time. These beasts had been starving too. Their cores would be dim, nearly drained of mana, barely worth the effort to dig them out. By the time he cleaned them and got back on the trail, he'd have lost an hour he didn't have.
"Useless," he muttered, wiping his blade on a clump of wet moss. "Not worth the weight."
He sheathed the cutlass and kept moving.
The adrenaline faded fast. Too fast. His leg burned with every step now, the badger bite was swelling under his torn trousers.
Every breath felt like a hot needle in his side. He walked until his vision started to blur at the edges, his feet dragging through the leaf litter, catching on roots he couldn't see anymore.
Finally, he couldn't go further. He slumped against the trunk of an ancient pine, sliding down until he sat in the wet leaves.
His muscles twitched from the sudden exertion, his calves spasming, hands trembling, jaw aching from how hard he'd been clenching it.
Syll hopped over and pressed against his leg. Warm. Solid. Alive.
"System," Revvyn whispered, his voice rasping. "Show me."
The translucent blue window flickered to life in front of his tired eyes.
[Host Attributes: Revvyn]
Level: 2
Strength: 8
Agility: 10
Constitution: 9
Mana: 15/15
[Unallocated Points: 3]
He looked at the points, then down at his trembling legs. Three points. He'd earned them by surviving the badgers, by killing them, by not dying in the first hour of this stupid quest.
He remembered the speed of those badgers. How the second one had caught him because he was just a fraction of a second too slow. If he'd been faster, that bite wouldn't have landed. If he'd been faster, he wouldn't be sitting here with his leg swelling and his vision blurring.
Another screen appeared.
[Absorption Detected (x3)]
Beasts: Feral Badger (F-Rank)
Potential Traits:
- Keen Scent (Passive: improved tracking, may overwrite existing trait)
- Pack Instinct (Active: temporary boost when fighting alongside bonded beast)
- Nimble Feet (Passive: increased dodge chance, may overwrite existing trait)
Accept Absorption? [Y/N]
Revvyn stared at the options. Three traits. All useful in their own way.
Keen Scent meant he could track prey better. Useful in a forest. But it would take up a slot, and he only had two. Pack Instinct meant fighting better with Syll, also useful, especially if they ran into more packs. Nimble Feet meant dodging, which with his new Agility could make him really hard to hit.
Badgers were scavengers. They hunted in packs, sure, but they were still bottom-tier predators. They ate leftovers. They stole from weaker beasts. They ran from real fights.
Revvyn didn't want to be a better scavenger.
He wanted to be a predator.
Reject, he thought. Save the space.
The screen vanished. Syll chirped, looking up at him with those tiny, dark eyes. The bond hummed warm in his chest—28% now. Growing.
"Not yet," Revvyn told the slime. "We wait for something better."
Syll chirped again, then hopped forward, ready to keep moving.
Then the thought came to him. Why didn't I get to choose if I wanted to absorb the boar when syll attacked it?
It clicked.
Back in the village square, when the boar had trampled Syll, when the slime had absorbed it for the first time.
The system hadn't asked for permission. It hadn't presented a menu of options. It had performed an emergency absorption to keep Syll alive, to keep them both from dying in front of the whole village.
It had chosen [Tough Hide] because Revvyn needed to not be crushed.
Emergency mode. No choices. Just survival.
Now, he had the luxury of choice. Three points. His to spend.
Put all three points into Agility, he commanded.
The screen flickered.
[Updating...]
Agility: 10 → 13
[System Note]: Physical frame adjusting. Expect minor muscle twitching. Do not attempt complex movements during adjustment.
A strange, electric tingle shot through his calves and thighs. It felt like his tendons were being pulled taut, like someone was stretching his muscles from the inside. His legs twitched uncontrollably for a few seconds, feet kicking at the leaves. Then it stopped.
He took a breath. Pushed himself up.
The day was setting. Shadows stretching long between the massive pines.
Evening bled through the canopy above. He needed to find a place to camp before full dark.
But the forest had other plans.
CRACK.
Revvyn froze.
CRACK. CRUNCH.
Something heavy was moving through the brush ahead. It wasn't careful or hiding. Branches the size of Revvyn's arm snapped like twigs under its weight. The ground vibrated slightly with each step.
Revvyn's heart hammered against his ribs. His hand found the cutlass grip, his grip tightened. Syll flattened against the ground beside him, surface rippling with that jagged dark purple again.
The trees parted.
It was a bear... Not just any bear.
Its skin was red and hairless in patches, revealing jagged bone spurs growing directly out of its shoulders and spine.
Some were cracked, broken, oozing clear fluid. Its ribs showed through thin flesh. Its eyes were flat. White. Dead-looking but somehow they were still watching.
It lowered its head as it stepped into the clearing. The bone spurs on its shoulders glistened in the dying light.
[System Identification]
Species: Bone-Spur Bear (D-Rank)
Threat Level: Lethal
Health: 100/100
Mana: 40/40
Warning: This beast is corrupted. Approach with extreme caution.
Revvyn's breath caught in his throat.
D-Rank. Three tiers above him. Three tiers above Syll. This thing could kill him with one swipe. Could break his ribs through [Tough Hide]. Could crush his skull like an egg.
The Bone-Spur Bear didn't roar. It made a sound like wet leather tearing.