The strange, three-pronged tracks led him deeper and deeper into the woods, the canopy growing thicker, the shadows lengthening into pools of near-darkness. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig under his bare feet, sent a jolt of nervous energy through him.
What was that thing? Big, heavy, silent... it didn't feel like anything natural. Yet, his [Instinctive Appraisal] remained stubbornly quiet, offering no warnings, no hints. Just the oppressive silence of the forest and the unsettling trail leading him onwards.
By the time the last rays of sunlight painted the highest leaves in fiery orange and faded into bruised purple, Sunny was operating on fumes. The brief surge of energy from his 'Awakening' had long since drained away, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion that resonated with the gnawing emptiness in his stomach.
His muscles screamed with every step, the lingering internal ache a dull counterpoint to the sharp pangs of hunger. The tracks vanished on rocky ground, leaving him utterly lost.
'Great. Just great.' He slumped against the rough bark of yet another indifferent tree, the rough texture scratching uncomfortably against his back.
'Awakened, stronger, and still gonna starve to death in the middle of nowhere because I followed mystery footprints like an idiot. Some upgrade this is.'
He closed his eyes, the familiar weight of despair settling over him. Maybe the Goddess's pity only extended so far. Maybe this was the end, just delayed and slightly more scenic than an alley gutter.
Then, a scent drifted through the air. Faint at first, barely discernible over the damp earth and pine. But it was there. Smoke. Woodsmoke. And something else… richer. Meat? Roasting meat?
His head snapped up, eyes scanning the darkening woods. There! A thin, almost invisible plume rising against the deep blue canvas of the early night sky, maybe a few hundred yards away.
Hope, sharp and desperate, surged through him, momentarily silencing the complaints of his stomach and muscles. He pushed off the tree, ignoring the protesting twinges. Smoke meant fire. Fire meant people. People meant… maybe food? Maybe help? Maybe just not being utterly alone anymore?
He stumbled through the undergrowth towards the source, driven by a primal need. The smell grew stronger with every step, tantalizing, agonizingly delicious. Roasted meat, definitely. Maybe some kind of herbs mixed in?
His mouth watered uncontrollably, a humiliating betrayal by his own body. It smelled heavenly, a stark contrast to the coppery tang of goblin blood that still clung faintly to his tunic.
He slowed as the flickering orange glow of a campfire became visible through the trees. Caution, learned the hard way both in the city alleys and just yesterday in the goblin clearing, warred with his desperate hunger.
He crept closer, using the thick trunks for cover, peering into the small clearing.
A fire crackled merrily in a ring of stones. Around it sat three figures. One, a burly man with a thick beard and weathered face, was tending to something sizzling over the flames on a makeshift spit. Another, leaner figure with a longbow resting against a nearby log, was sharpening a knife, the firelight glinting off the steel.
The third… was a girl. Maybe a couple of years older than him? She had bright red hair tied back in a messy ponytail and was laughing, her head thrown back, at something the bowman had said.
They looked… normal. Human. Relaxed, even. But Sunny's eyes quickly scanned their gear. Swords leaned against packs, axes were tucked into belts, spare quivers lay nearby. These weren't lost travelers. They were equipped. Prepared.
Dangerous?
Just as the thought surfaced, a familiar, dry text box flickered into existence at the edge of his vision, startling him after the long silence.
[Took you long enough to find civilization, sort of. Those are adventurers, Sunny-boy. Try not to drool on your bloodstained tunic.]
'Sys! You're back!' Relief warred with annoyance. 'Where the hell were you? I almost became mystery-monster-chow following those weird tracks, then nearly starved!'
[Mana conservation protocols were active,] Sys's text scrolled, devoid of its usual rapid-fire snark. Almost… subdued? [Constant chatter isn't free, you know. The Goddess's coin might be potent, but it's not infinite, especially with her divinity being… well, let's just say 'on backorder'. I prioritize essential functions – like threat assessment or, apparently, stopping you from walking face-first into a bandit camp thinking it's a soup kitchen.]
He frowned. 'Adventurers?' He looked back at the group. The laughing girl, the focused bowman, the burly man turning the spit. They did look capable.
[Yep. Professionals who take quests, hunt monsters, explore dungeons – that sort of thing. Usually ranked based on skill and experience. Probably Bronze or Silver rank, judging by the gear. Not top-tier, but way, way out of your league right now. Remember your Level? One. With a capital Ouch.] She paused.
[Generally, it's best for strays like you to avoid adventurers unless you have something valuable to trade or desperately need help. They operate on contracts and coin, not charity. And given your… presentation… they're more likely to see you as trouble than potential income.]
Her warning echoed in his mind, reinforcing his own caution. He was a mess. Filthy clothes stained with god-knows-what (well, he knew what, and it wasn't good), bare feet, probably looking half-wild. They had weapons. He had… a recently discovered talent for extreme violence and internal combustion.
Not exactly reassuring credentials.
But the sound of laughter… the easy camaraderie around the fire… it was a siren call to the starved, lonely part of him that had been hiding in the dark for far too long. He thought of the little girl at the bus stop, her small hug, the feeling of connection.
He thought of the Goddess's sad eyes. He didn't want to be forgotten again. He didn't want to be alone out here.
The red-haired girl laughed again, a bright, clear sound that cut through the forest quiet. The burly man chuckled, handing her a piece of meat from the spit. They looked… nice. Normal, despite the weapons.
Maybe Sys was being overly cynical. Maybe they'd help?
Screw it. What was the worst that could happen? Getting chased off? Threatened? He faced worse already. He needed food. He needed information. He needed… not this crushing solitude.
Taking a deep breath that did little to calm the frantic hammering in his chest, he stepped out from behind the tree, shuffling awkwardly into the edge of the firelight.
The laughter stopped instantly. Three pairs of eyes snapped towards him. The bowman's hand dropped to the hilt of a dagger at his belt. The red-haired girl's smile vanished, replaced by wide-eyed surprise. The burly man by the fire didn't reach for a weapon immediately, but his posture tensed, his gaze sharp and assessing.
The pleasant atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a sudden, crackling tension.
Sunny swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He raised a hesitant hand, acutely aware of how dirty and stained he looked under their scrutiny.
"Uh… hello," he managed, his voice coming out as a rough croak.
The burly man squinted, his eyes narrowing as they took in Sunny's state – the bare feet, the simple (and filthy) clothes, and the dark, greenish-black stains liberally splattered across his tunic and visible on his arms.
The man's hand drifted towards the axe tucked in his belt.
"Hold it right there, kid. Don't move," the man's voice was a low growl, not immediately hostile, but heavy with caution. His eyes fixed on the stains. "Gods… kid, what happened to you? Is that… goblin blood?"
Sunny froze, the man's words hitting him harder than any goblin blow. The casual recognition of the substance, the sharp suspicion in his eyes, the sudden weight of their combined attention… Explain? How could he possibly explain any of this?