Another scream echoes ahead. My heart jumps.
This has to be the right path.
“Ah—” I cough as the stale, suffocating air claws at my lungs. My body protests with every breath, but I keep going. I’ve been through worse.
The scream comes again, louder this time, followed by more voices. I quicken my pace, chasing the faint glow spilling from the exit.
I step out of the cave—and chaos hits me like a punch.
The sounds sharpen instantly. It’s like someone rips the muffler off reality, and suddenly I’m listening to an audio recording I was never meant to hear. Screams. Metal. Impact. Fear.
“They’re close,” I whisper.
I push through the trees, branches scraping at my arms. Every step brings the noise into sharper focus—wild, frantic, desperate.
When I break through the last line of trees the sounds explode into my ears and finally I’m able to see the battlefield.
It’s like watching a live-action movie. The whole fight plays out in front of me from a perfect third-person angle. A real battle. And the thrill that shoots through me isn’t emotion—it’s the sharp realization that they’re losing. Badly. The shouting, the panic, the total lack of coordination… It's painful to watch.
The closer I get to them I can recognize each of them—
And the monster they’re desperately trying to handle.
A healer, a tank, a thief, and a warrior are locked in combat with a colossal bear—a hulking beast easily five meters tall.
Pawn of the Mother Nature Style Bear
- Level: 13
- Description: A powerful beast enhanced by the blood of Mother Nature. Its duty is to eliminate anyone disrupting her forest.
- Mana: 150
- Skills:
- Nature Recovery: Regains health by consuming trees. Costs 10 mana.
- Creation by Blessings: Creates soldier-trees by consuming trees. Costs 10 mana.
- Spikes of Nature: Hardens its fur into lethal spikes as a defensive measure. Costs 20 mana.
My eyes snap to the battlefield. Two tree soldiers already lie in pieces, but three more still stand, branches twitching, waiting for commands. The bear can summon at least ten of them unless it’s burned through Nature Recovery—and I’m not seeing signs of exhaustion yet.
The bear roars, a guttural, earth-shaking sound, and lunges at the party. Its massive paw crashes towards Colt, who barely manages to raise his shield in time. The impact sends his skidding back, boots digging trenches in the dirt.
But his shield breaks, now he is defenseless.
I seize the opening.
I glide forward, weightless for a moment as I maneuver behind the beast’s neck, both hands gripping my pickaxe.
Swing.
CLANG!
The vibration shoots up my arms—its hide is harder than iron. The bear barely reacts.
“I’m out of mana!” the healer cries, her voice shaking.
The tank—Cantheris—struggles to hold the line. Tree soldiers swarm around her, branches slashing and hammering at her from every angle. Her movements are sluggish, her breaths shaky. Her magic shield is dented, cracked, and one good hit away from shattering completely.
Trying to buy time for the healer to recover mana, the warrior woman lifts her sword, confidence dripping from her voice. Instead of helping Cantheris she takes the chance to shine on her own.
“I’ve never been this excited,” she growls.
Then she charges—an imposing figure with fire blazing in her eyes, legs pumping, adrenaline roaring through her veins. She’s unstoppable… or at least she thinks she is.
“Regroup! Don’t rush in!” Colt shouts after her, panic leaking into his voice.
But the signs are obvious.
As a party member, Colt is solid—brave, reliable, loyal.
But as a leader… he lacks the command, the authority, the clarity.
And right now, that weakness is dragging the whole team down.
“No problem!” she roars, swinging her blade at the bear.
But even from here, the flaws are obvious.
I’m no expert adventurer, but I’ve played enough team-based games—and enough solo ones—to spot two massive mistakes instantly.
First: the warrior can’t read the bear’s skill pattern.
Second: because of that, she has no idea what’s coming next.
She rushes in with blood boiling and tunnel vision.
A fatal mistake.
In that instant, she’s already checkmated—by her own recklessness.
The beast activated Spikes of Nature.
The next thing is hearing the healer screaming, it's like time is stopping, I can watch the expressions of the rest watching in horror as the warrior woman is impaled by countless razor-sharp spikes. Blood sprayed in all directions as she collapsed.
Colt’s eyes widen at the scene, his grip loosening the sword in his hand, the shock freezes him in place. Cantheris’s shield finally gives out with a sharp crack. She flinches when the drops of warm blood lands on her hair. The moment she notices it, her focus shatters completely.
Her breathing falters. Her stance collapses.
The scent in the air shifts—iron, sharp, undeniable.
The scent of blood is not something strange to me, I can react faster this means I can focus on my objective. I have to stop the tree soldiers from hurting cantheris.
“Keep its attention!” I shout to Colt, already shifting toward the remaining tree soldiers.
I charge directly into the tree soldiers, my pickaxe slicing through their legs and faces. Their wood-like skin resists, but I press on, breaking through with precise strikes.
Swing.
Swing.
Aiming for legs and torsos. One soldier swings its branch-like arm at me—wood scraping against air—but I duck, pivot, and drive my pickaxe into its core. It splinters violently, collapsing into a heap of lifeless wood.
My pickaxe cuts through bark and sap, clearing the smaller threats before they swarm us.
Every second spent on these attacks is enough to prevent me from reaching the healer who is now a target for the bear.
The bear growls, a low, cunning rumble. It had been waiting—waiting for the healer’s mana to run dry.
“Regroup!” Colt shouts, yanking the healer toward him.
Even though Colt is right about regrouping, the fear in his voice infects the others even worse. His panic becomes theirs.
The bear lunges.
Its massive claws come crashing down.
The healer freezes—paralyzed, staring only at Colt, waiting for him to guide her.
But Colt does nothing except scream.
“NOOO!” Scolt’s voice breaks as the bear crushes her beneath its weight.
Desperation twists his face. His oversized sword trembles in his shaking hands.
“I… I can’t fight like this!” he chokes out, tears welling as he swings blindly at the air, nowhere near the monster.
The bear loomed over the cantheris, ready to strike.
“Cantheris”
I activate my skill to check her stats.
Cantheris
- Category: Tank
- Level: 7
- Mana: 100
- Skills:
- Nature Shield: Summons a magical shield resistant to magic but weak to physical attacks. (30 mana)
- Unlawful Deflect: Creates a short-lived field that reflects physical attacks for 30 seconds. (20 mana)
- Lawful Reflect: Creates a protective field for physical attack to allies within a 10-meter radius for 15 seconds. (25 mana)
She looks at me—pale, trembling—then her expression shifts ever so slightly as she tries to pull herself back together.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Cantheris this afraid.
Honestly, I’m surprised she even recognizes me.
“Tell me!” I yell at her between swings. “How many recoveries has the bear used?”
“Huh? Three—no, two!” she gasps.
Damn. She’s completely shaken.
My skill lets me see the bear’s total mana… but not how much it has left. The missing information grates on me.
“Listen, Cantheris,” I say, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Start chanting. We’re going to need a defensive spell—do you understand?”
She just stares at me, unfocused, her mind still somewhere between panic and shock.
I shake her gently but firmly.
“Please. Tell me you understand.”
She finally nods, barely.
Good.
Because retreating isn’t an option. Even if I try to flee, the bear will chase me through the forest and eventually catch up. Running would only drain my stamina. Against something like this, the only things I can rely on are my endurance… and my brain.
So the best option is straightforward.
I move in.
Pickaxe in hand, I circle the battlefield, searching for a blind spot behind the monster’s defenses.
Colt, driven by pure rage, lets out a roar and charges the bear head-on before me. His sword crashes against its spikes, the impact shaking the ground. Each shockwave sends a vibration through my ears, a dull ache growing with every hit.
Colt’s face is twisted by revenge, and his attacks grow faster—reckless, desperate.
“C’mon!” Colt yells, tears streaking his face as he swings with reckless fury. The massive bear roars and tackles him, hurling him into the boulder. Stone cracks under the impact, dust churning like smoke around him.
I seize the opening, charging forward. My pickaxe bites deep into the creature’s hide—but it barely flinches. The weapon jams, wedged in thick, fibrous flesh. I wrench it free just as the beast lunges, teeth gnashing.
“I’ll need a bigger weapon,” I mutter, stepping back, adrenaline roaring in my veins.
Then it bellows again—its power flaring. “Spikes of Nature!” Jagged wooden spines erupt from its back, snapping outward in every direction. One shoots straight through Colt’s shoulder , pinning him to the ground. He doesn’t scream. His eyes blaze.
Instead, he grins, blood dripping down his cheek. He started cursing out of nowhere like he lost composure.
Then he screams with all his force in his throat.
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“Cursed sword—now is where I need you the most!”
A dark aura burst from him, twisting and surging like smoke. The next instant, a spike shot toward his chest in the same direction of his heart—but he vanished.
In the middle of the air he reappeared right in front of the bear’s face.
With a single slash, a wave of compressed air exploded from his sword, tearing across the monster’s neck. The bear staggered back, roaring in pain as blood poured down its body.
Colt didn’t stop. He blinked again—appearing at its ankles—and slashed fast, cutting through its tendons one after another. The beast crashed to its knees, its strength fading with every strike.
Each strike from Colt grew slower, his breathing heavier. Sweat and blood mixed on his face as he staggered forward. Then he stops for a second, the load on his body is giving a punishment.
Across from him, the beast let out another guttural roar. Its body pulsed with green light—Nature Recovery. It tore two trees from the ground, devouring them whole. The wounds across its hide began to knit shut, bark and flesh merging back together.
Colt cursed under his breath, gripping his sword with trembling hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”
“Now, Cantheris… protect Colt!”
Cantheris began chanting, his tone steady but forceful. The air shimmered around Colt as ancient words filled the space like echoes of thunder.
“Stone of oath, iron of will…
Stand with me.
By pact unbroken and path unyielding—
Bend the strike, shatter the malice…”
At the same the creature arched its back—Spikes of Nature! Wooden lances burst outward in all directions, tearing through the earth like living spears. Colt braced himself, too exhausted to dodge.
But before the attack struck, Cantheris’s chant was ready.
When she reached the final phrase, Cantheri thrust her hand forward. “Unlawful Deflect!”
A radiant barrier of translucent energy burst to life in front of Colt, absorbing the incoming storm of spikes. Each wooden lance hit the shield.
Colt looked back, disbelief in his eyes, as Cantheris stood firm, cloak rippling from the aftershock of the spell. But the sound of the shield breaking is more than a warning.
I keep my hand on Cantheris’s shoulder, feeling her tremor through the cloak. “Focus—else the shield will break.”
She blinks, swallows, and nods once. “Im trying….” Her voice is small but feeling annoyed.
Colt staggers back to us, breathing hard. “Can you keep up?”
“I’ll make a distraction,” I tell him. He shrugs, half-smiles. “Never expected you here, miner. It’s… amusing how calm you are.”
“Can you both shut up, you're making me more nervous!” Cantheris exclaims
“I’m tired as hell, but I can do one more slash. If I hit his neck once more, it’ll be over.”
He’s right. The bleeding from the previous wound drips in slowly, it seems the monster regeneration has its limitations, each drop soaking into the earth like it’s counting down the creature’s remaining seconds. The cut isn’t clean—more like a torn gash—but the flesh is weak now, hanging like shredded tissue. One more strike and it will rip open completely.
I kick my boots—light, mechanical whirr—and they spring to life. Like a mosquito I dart around the bear, legs humming, staying just out of reach as massive paws swipe at empty air. The beast’s breaths come ragged now.
Each missed swing costs it more.
I lure the beast toward a patch of loose stone and the shallow ravine I noticed when it first charged. It lunges after me, committing its full weight, and I leap over a brittle ledge. The ground under it gives way. The rock shifts, and for that moment it loses its balance—tail whipping, breath heaving.
Colt narrows his eyes, steadying his blade. “Now,” he spits. He vanishes in the blink between my boots and the bear’s wounded flank, reappearing at its throat—sword poised for the final slash.
But it’s like the bear knows—it adapts too fast. It catches on to Colt’s movements, and with one brutal bite, it tears off the arm holding his sword. Blood splatters everywhere. For a moment, I freeze—not out of fear of his death, but because now it’s just me and Cantheris.
I burst forward with my magnetic boots, snatching Colt out of the air before his body could hit the ground. The bear spits out his severed arm—it lands with a wet thud. The scene is obscene, unreal, something that should only exist in nightmares.
Cantheris’s face crumples, the light in her eyes shattering all at once. Colt’s blood is already soaking through my hands. He’s fading. Fast.
We have seconds. Maybe less.
Cantheris’s chant breaks off. Her voice dies. I rush back in front of her.
“Hey! We’re still in the middle of a fight!” I shout, breath shaking.
“You… you should’ve protected Colt!” she screams, her fists crashing weakly against my chest—anger, grief, guilt all tangled in each blow.
“It’s not the time for that!”
My voice cracks—more from desperation than rage.
I force her to look at me. Eye to eye. It steals time we don’t have, but if she falls apart now, we die.
I can’t win alone.
My life depends on her.
And hers depends on mine.
We both hold Colt to maintain out of the cold ground. Waiting for the bear's next move.
The bear staggers, struggling to stay upright. Every wound slows it further, but rage keeps it pushing through the pain. Its eyes lock onto us—and it lunges.
It’s slower, but still deadly. Each step is a thunderclap.
Cantheris snaps back to her spell. The final words leave her lips just as the bear crashes into us.
The impact hurls me backward—I hit the ground hard, the air blasted from my lungs. But Cantheris… she doesn’t budge.
It is like her legs are rooted into the earth. Her knees bend only slightly, like the world itself is holding her up. What impacted me the most is she did all that while holding Colt.
“What are you waiting for, we are going to die! Think something fast”
The bear didn’t wait. It pushed back wards then It lunged — a massive paw swinging straight at us. The shield having cracks, it is obvious it will not last for the next attack.
The next attack did not wait.
I push Cantheris aside and burst my boots in reverse, trying to absorb the impact. The blow still hit hard, sending me flying like a ragdoll into a tree. The impact is so strong my helmet breaks, resulting in a headache.
The world spins — bark, dirt, and blood blur into one violent mess as I crash into the trunk. My ribs feel in pain leaving me with a hoarse cough. I can barely hear anything past the ringing in my ears — only the distant echo of Cantheris shouting my name.
“Cantheris!” I yell, voice cracking. “Use lawful reverse”
“I can’t,” she cries, tears in her eyes. “If I move my hands, Colt’ll bleed!”
She is trying to stop the bleeding. Every movement is making Colt bleed.
The bear roars, ripping up the earth as it charges again. I slam my boots into the dirt—magnets flaring—and launch sideways, the wind cutting past my face. I skid, grab a loose stone for balance—
“Do it. I have an idea—trust me.”
Cantheris looks at me, and there is no trust in her eyes. And it’s not her fault. I wouldn’t trust me either.
I’m unarmed. I’m inexperienced. I’m not a leader. Colt did more than I ever could; if the bear weren’t injured, it would have torn through both of us already.
But none of that matters now.
Trust isn’t the question anymore.
Survival is. There are only two of us left, and we either move or we die.
Before she can protest, I scoop her into my arms and ignite my boots again. The magnets scream as I accelerate, carrying us away from the shattered battlefield. I push toward open ground—away from the trees, away from the cramped terrain, toward a place where I can control the fight.
A place where I can make sure
I deliver the final blow.
The bear follows. I circle wide; she’s still in denial, punching me the back
“Cantheris! Can you stop!” .
“You left Colt alone! Let me go”.
“He’ll be fine. Worry about us now. Focus — do the chant.”
“But—”
“Do it or we will die!!!!”
Her shoulders fold for a moment—but then she inhales, steadies herself, and begins the chant. The air thins instantly, the words ringing through the clearing like rusted iron being struck. I sprint up the slope, heart pounding so hard it hurts.
“This plan is almost suicidal,” I mutter, but I keep running.
Behind us, the bear thunders forward, each step closing the distance. The ground trembles beneath its weight, stones rattling as it roars.
We reach a cliffside near the mountain’s edge. Cantheris releases her shield, but it’s flimsy—already cracking under the next wave of sound. I glance back. She’s holding… but barely.
“Wait for me. Just hold it together a little longer,” I say. I don’t give her the chance to argue.
“You’re insane! What are you going to do—come back when I’m just bones?” she yells after me.
But the sounds of her yells are minimizing while I’m leaving.
I boost upward, rockets from my boots screaming. And then I see it—exactly what this insane plan needs:
a massive boulder perched above the cliff, big enough to crush the bear flat if it hits squarely.
It’s far too heavy to lift with my arms—one try and my bones would snap like twigs.
But this world has skills for insane situations like this.
Backpack Skill.
I slam my hand against the stone.
The boulder shudders—
glows—
and then something feels wrong.
A pressure builds around it, squeezing, crushing.
This isn’t normal.
It’s compressing the whole thing instead of storing it.
Panic spikes through me.
If it keeps going like this, the boulder won’t be a weapon—
it’ll just crumble into useless gravel.
“I— I don’t understand,” I whisper, breath shaking.
Then louder—raw, terrified:
“What is going on?! What the hell is going on?! Why are you failing me now, skill?!”
The glow flickers violently. The entire rock mass trembles under my palm.
The skill is working—barely.
I can feel it straining, grinding against its absolute limit.
It’s not a miracle tool.
It can’t store a mountain or a star.
It has boundaries—hard ones.
And right now, I’m pushing it past them.
The result is a nightmare:
instead of storing the boulder,
it’s crushing it, compacting it tighter and tighter,
as if my desperation alone is forcing it to obey.
My plan—
my last chance—
is collapsing right in my hands.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the time I return, Cantheris’ shield is cracking apart, light splintering in every direction. She’s on one knee, sweat dripping down her face, barely holding on.
“The taller the objective…” I shout, rising higher and higher. The air thins, my voice lost to the wind. “…the harder the fall!”
I climb until the world below turns small — until I can see the bear towering over her, claws raised, shield flickering like a dying star.
The instant that shield shatters, I release the boulder.
It drops like a verdict.
The impact detonates across the field.
The bear’s roar cuts off mid-breath as stone crushes skull, spine, everything. Dirt erupts, the earth splitting from the force. When the dust clears, only its legs remain — the entire upper body buried under the weight of the mountain I stole. Even though only seventy percent of the boulder I brought the results is clear the result.
Then my boots sputter out.
I start falling too.
For a heartbeat I hang in the air — silent, weightless — staring down at the destruction I’ve created.
“So… this is how I die,” I breathe, as gravity hooks into my ribs and drags me down.
And the last thing I see is Cantheris — sprinting toward me with everything she has, her voice tearing through the chaos as she screams my name.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Someone is yanking my cheeks — hard. Pain snaps me awake.
“Ow—what the hell—”
My eyes fly open. I freeze. My head is resting on something soft. Warm.
Cantheris’ thigh.
“What—!”
My voice dies when I take in her shape. She’s smiling, eyes closed, barely holding herself up.
“We… we won… right? Did we? Wait… where’s Colt?”
“I tried to help him… but the thing is…. I can’t move, I waste all of my energy” she says, still smiling.
She’s managing to stay upright, but barely. The boulder hit the bear full force, yes—but the aftershock? The ground cracking, the dust exploding—that little shockwave rattled everything. That’s probably why she’s like this now, swaying and fighting to stay conscious.
She opens her eyes slowly. I’m already looking at her. She realizes our faces are just a few centimeters apart—way too close—and only because she’s so exhausted she keeps leaning toward me like she’s about to fall asleep on me.
When she finally registers the distance, she freezes. Then the sweating starts.
Her face goes red instantly.
“I-It’s not what it looks like!” she yelps—
and then immediately throws me off like I’m a cursed object.
“Ow… okay, yeah. That hurts.”
I hit the ground with a thud. Using my hands I rub my back while I twist my body in pain on the ground.
She crosses her arms. “You—You—” She jabs a finger at me, somehow standing again, pulling strength out of absolutely nowhere. “You should be grateful that a beautiful girl took care of you.”
I don’t know where that came from, but while trying to find something to say I noticed something on her.
She takes one step, then winces hard. Her leg buckles. “Tch… my ankle’s broken.”
I push myself up, brushing dirt off my clothes. “I’ll handle Colt. You’ve done more than enough already.”
She looks at me in silence, uncertain for a moment—then finally nods.
“…You owe him.”
A nerve in my chest twists. “I don’t—” I want to argue, to say it’s unfair that the responsibility falls on me, but I pause. She’s barely keeping herself upright, having survived the monster, while the rest of her party didn’t make it.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When I return to Colt, the medics are already there. They work fast, precise, hands stained with red but steady. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Check on Cantheris next,” I say. They nod without looking up.
Then it hits.
A notification flashes inside my mind.
LEVEL UP!
Level: 13
New Skills Available:
- Save Material (Passive): Reduces the amount of material required for type construction skills to the minimum of 40% to achieve maximum results. Reduces the amount of input Material needed for an outcome of a skill type's consumption is reduced to 50%.
- Seed Recovery: Consume 20 kg of wood to plant a seed. The seed grows into a healing pill that restores 3% HP to whoever consumes it. 1 Year expiration date. (10 mana cost)
- Coal Spikes: Summon large coal spikes to attack enemies in an underground environment. (15 mana cost)
I stare at the list.
“…These skills suck,” I groan.
Seed Recovery isn’t bad, but I already have Chewing Rocks. Coal Spikes sound strong, sure—but in a forest? Completely useless. And Save Material…
“What even is that?” I mutter.
I frown, thinking it through. Save Material looks boring, but paired with Chewing… if before I consumed two rocks for a certain amount of health, now consuming one will gain me the same amount as If I have consumed two. Then if one day I need to build my own home with this skill I will save a lot of material. That is what I call Efficiency. And now my backpack skills have evolved, I have more ideas that I want to take advantage of.
“Fine,” I say, selecting Save Material.
Besides, if I ever get a copy skill, maybe I’ll duplicate things using the bare minimum.
“Yeah, Daryn,” I whisper to myself. “You’re a genius.”
Another notification appears immediately after.
New Passive Unlocked: Eye of the Professional
Description: An evolution of Eye of the Intern. Allows you to view additional details such as height, Weight, HP, and current mana. Grants the ability to store information in a mental database, improving memory retention and recall.
I grinned, despite the lingering pain. “Well, at least something good came out of this mess.”