Freya turned her head toward him. "Is this all real? I'm not dreaming?"
The man's brows drew together. "Dream? This world is as real as you are." He sighed and added, "You must be one of them."
He finally set her down, letting her slump to the ground.
"What do you mean?" Her voice trembled, and so did her body. Reality was settling in at last—she was in a ruined world she had no idea how to survive.
Her hands clenched the hem of her skirt, knuckles whitening, until her vision blurred. Tears began to spill, no matter how much she tried to hold them back.
"The delusional ones," he said bluntly, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"The ones who can't believe the apocalypse happened five years ago. Wait, are you crying?"
She wiped her face quickly and gave a small nod. She had always been a crybaby, but she wasn't weak.
She just cried when she was angry, or scared, or sad… even when she was happy. And she hated it.
"I—I was supposed to graduate and go to college," she sobbed.
It wasn't like she was unfamiliar with the concept of being thrown into another world. She had read about it in countless novels—being teleported, reincarnated, or waking up in another body.
But now that it was her, all her hard work in her old world felt wasted. Everything she had built was gone, and she had to start again from nothing.
"You… don't cry. Nothing good comes from it."
His tone was softer now, no longer as rough or impatient. She glanced up, surprised to find him crouched so they were at eye level.
His expression was gentle. "I promise to get you out of this city safe and sound. So the least you can do for me is stop crying."
Freya sniffed and nodded slowly. She knew she was a burden to him right now, and the least a burden could do was not make things harder.
"What should I do?"
"Are you an Awakener?"
She shook her head, unfamiliar with the term.
"It means a human who awakened a power after the apocalypse. My power is this sword. I can summon it from nothing, and it can cut through anything. I can also turn it into elemental forms, like fire."
Freya hesitated. She did have a system, but so far it had only given her that one quest. Still, she wondered, usually in the novels she read, the characters just had to say…
'Status window.'
A pale blue screen appeared before her eyes.
[Status Window]
[Name: Freya Adler]
[Age: 18 years old]
[Race: Human]
[Experience Point: 0]
[Ultimate Skills]
• Terraformer
• Beastmaster
---
[Beastmaster Information]
[None]
---
[Terraformer Information]
[Level 1 – Purifying Land: Restores the land and removes toxins from within the ground. Current limit: 5x5 meter area.]
Freya hesitated again, usually MC always hid their power or system from anyone so people around wouldn't get suspicious of the anomaly.
But the man had already helped her without knowing who she was, risking his life to take her somewhere safe. The least she could do was help in return.
"I'm a Terraformer and a Beastmaster… but I don't have any beasts yet."
His brows rose slightly, but his voice stayed flat. "Oh… useless then."
She gasped, heat rushing to her cheeks. "You! I—I'm not useless!"
"I meant in combat." His smirk deepened, as if he enjoyed seeing her flustered. "What's your name?"
"Freya Adler," she said curtly, still glaring at him.
"Alright, Frey. I'm Caleb. For now, your job is simple. When I say run, you run. When I say hide behind me, you hide. Can you handle that?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She nodded, but the way his low laugh rumbled out almost broke her annoyance.
"Don't laugh," she muttered. "This is serious."
"It's better than watching you pout at your savior."
"I'm not pouting," she said, then promptly pinched his arm.
He flinched, rubbing the spot. "You're dangerous for someone without combat skills."
Before she could think of a retort, a scream tore through the air. Caleb's expression hardened instantly.
Both of them rose to their feet, and Freya slipped behind him, her fingers curling around the back of his shirt as she peered past his shoulder.
Shhrriiieekkkk!
From the ground, something emerged, as large as a Great Dane.
Its fur was matted with fungus that pulsed and released clouds of yellow spores. Its eye sockets were hollow, yet it turned its head as if searching.
Despite the emptiness in its gaze, two strange flowers grew from either side of its head, each with a blinking eye at its center.
Its tail was a thick braid of living vines, and its feet had hardened into twisted bark.
Caleb instinctively covered his nose. "Frey, don't inhale those spores. You'll become a hollow husk if you do. Also, don't make a sound. It can't see well, but it senses through sound," he whispered.
She nodded slowly.
Rather than confront the creature, Caleb picked up a rock and hurled it as far as he could.
It crashed through a distant window, the sound shattering the silence. At once, the monster bounded toward the noise.
Without hesitation, Caleb lifted her over his shoulder like a sack and ran, his steps swift and steady.
"Don't ask anything," he said. "Just stay still."
Freya nodded vigorously. She couldn't see his face, but his voice was tense and his pace urgent.
Realizing even the person she thought strong could be in panic, her hands began to tremble.
She knew she could never survive in a place like this alone. She would die within days.
There was only one choice—she had to stick with him! If possible glue to his body, literally, so she could be saved forever!
'Yes,' she thought. 'Stay close. Be kind. Be useful. And perhaps, if fate allowed, become his lover!'