The pack circled, their growls weaving into a chilling chorus, testing for weaknesses. Karl's mind raced. The deadfall trap was his best chance.
He whispered to Thorn, "Lure them, but stay close to the barrier." Thorn gave a quick glance of understanding, then dashed forward, barking as his thorns flared.
The pack lunged, claws raking the barrier, but Thorn slipped back inside, its speed a blur. Karl sprinted to the trap's trigger vine, heart pounding as the pack followed Thorn's taunts, their paws brushing the tripwire.
Crack! The heavy branch swung down, slamming into a Bronze I wolf's flank. It yelped, blood spraying as the sharpened stakes pierced its side. The pack froze, startled, as Karl thrust his spear through the barrier, driving it into the wounded wolf's neck. It collapsed, vitality fading.
The lead wolf snarled, amber eyes burning, but it backed off, the pack retreating into the mist. They know they can't break through. For now. Karl's chest heaved, sweat dripping down his brow. "Good work, Thorn," he panted, the Vine Wolf's tail flicking as it stood guard, eyes locked on the tree line.
Once the silence returned, Karl forced himself to move. He dragged the limp body of the fallen wolf closer, grimacing at the weight, and pressed his palm against its chest. A faint shimmer stirred, then solidified—a Level 1 Essence Crystal, warm and alive with energy. He pocketed it, his collection now has seven crystals in total.
The forest's hum settled, but the threat lingered. They'll come back. smarter. Angrier. Karl glanced at the Summoning Gate, its glow steady in the morning light. One ally wasn't enough. He needed more—crystals, summons, weapons. The Wilderness was watching, and something larger loomed, a faint pulse of ancient vitality deep in the forest, too vast to grasp.
[Barrier Timer: 3 days, 3 hours, 30 minutes]
Karl led Thorn back to the Sanctuary, the weight of the new crystal in his pouch a small victory, his mind already turning to the next summon. The pack was a warning—a taste of the Wilderness's true teeth. To survive, he'd need to become more than a man with a spear.
He was a Lord now, and the Wilderness demanded he prove it.
The pale green dawn filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows across the Treehouse Sanctuary's clearing. Karl stood before the Summoning Gate, its emerald vines pulsing with a faint, rhythmic glow, the air thick with sap and ozone. His bone-tipped spear rested against his shoulder, grounding him as he clutched two Level-1 Essence Crystals and two summoning shards in his calloused palms.
Thorn, his Vine Wolf, sat alert nearby, thorn-laced fur blending with the underbrush, green eyes scanning the tree line. Ember's soft chirps echoed from its nest inside the Sanctuary, its vitality steady under Karl's Breath of Spring; she was growing fast.
The memory of the wolf pack attack just now—two Bronze II and two remaining Bronze I wolves, their amber eyes burning with vengeance—tightened his jaw. The barrier would hold for three more days, but he needed strength now. Two allies could change everything.
"I'll summon two this time," Karl muttered, jaw tightening. "I'll risk it."
He pressed the crystals and shards into the Gate's rippling field.
The vines flared, light surging like a heartbeat, the air humming with a resonant pulse that shook the mossy ground. The energy parted, and a slender, weathered woman stepped through.
Her worn boots hesitated on the damp earth; her tattered cloak streaked with dirt and the faint scent of crushed herbs. Her dark eyes darted wildly, taking in the towering trees. Before she could speak, the Gate blazed again.
A towering figure emerged—a Barkskin Warrior, its muscle-bound form clads in bark-like armor, vines coiling around its limbs, a gnarled wooden club slung across its shoulder. Its green eyes glowed with unyielding resolve.
Karl stepped forward, spear lowered, his voice calm but commanding.
"I'm Karl Varn, Lord of this territory. You've been summoned through the Summoning Gate and you're safe within the Sanctuary's barrier—for now." He gestured to the shimmering dome.
Her eyes locked onto him, wide with confusion and a spark of fear.
"Summoned? By you?" Her fingers tightened around her cloak, her voice rising.
"Why do I feel… bound to you? Like something's tying my soul to yours?"
Karl nodded, softening his tone to ease her panic. "That's the bond of this world.
The gate links you to me—your summoner. Without it, you'd fade back to wherever you came from. I don't control the rules, but I'm not here to treat you like a slave. You're an ally." Its faint hums a quiet reassurance. "Tell me who you are and what you can do."
The woman's shoulders relaxed, the bond's influence settling over her, subtle but undeniable. She bowed her head slightly, her voice softening into deference.
"I understand, my Lord. My name is Mira. I was an herbalist in my world—tending roots, leaves, anything to heal or survive. But now…" Her gaze drifted to the alien forest, shadowed with loss. "I'm not sure what I am."
Karl studied her callused hands and scarred knuckles—marks of a survivor. An herbalist. Useful. His Herbal Resonance skill hummed, sensing her affinity for plants, a synergy with his own abilities.
The warrior knelt, its voice a low rumble like shifting roots.
"I am Grok, my Lord, named for strength and unyielding will. I fight and protect. My club breaks bone; my armor turns blades." The bond snapped into place, tying both to Karl, their vitalities pulsing in sync with the Sanctuary.
Karl studied both of them and then he asked the question that gnawed at him.
"Mira, Grok… where did you come from? I was summoned here too, but I became a Lord, but you were summoned as a servant. Why?"
Her lips trembled as she gave a faint, weary smile.
"Maybe… it's because our worlds were different. My world was destroyed, piece by piece. We had no future left, no hope to survive. Perhaps that is why I was chosen this way… not as a master of land, but as someone bound to follow." Grok respond in affirmation.
Karl's chest tightened at her words. The bond hummed faintly between them, not chains, but a fragile tether of shared survival.
Karl nodded, relief mixing with the weight of new responsibilities.
"Mira, your skills will help us use the Spirit Leaf and Sunfire Fruit we've found. Grok, you'll fight alongside Thorn"—he gestured to the Vine Wolf, who sniffed Grok cautiously but accepted him— "and guard us against threats.
The Wilderness is alive, and most of it wants us dead. The Sanctuary"—he pointed to the glowing treehouse— "is our anchor, but we've got a wolf pack circling. Two Bronze II, two Bronze I, angry from the barrier's push."
Mira's eyes widened, her fingers clutching the bone shard Karl handed her for harvesting. "Wolves… here?" she murmured, glancing at the tree line.
Grok's club thudded against the ground, his voice steady.
"Let them come. I'll crush their skulls." Thorn growled in agreement, thorns bristling, but Karl raised a hand.
"Not yet. We stay inside the barrier, test your skills, and prepare.
Mira, you should check the Spirit Leaf patch east of here."
Mira nodded briskly, "My Lord. I can brew a vitality tonic with them—which will restore strength, maybe it will heal wounds faster for that I'll need fire and a vessel."
Karl marked the plan, handing her a clay pot from his crude supplies and for fire she need to make it old way.
"Let's do that for later. First, make three small shelters for now, and I will go and cook something. You can easily finish three shelters by then," without saying anything further, he went.
As they were about to eat, Karl brought Ember out and introduced her to all. Its amber eyes looked at everything curiously while chirping; she had grown stronger, and its feathers had also become bright with constant healing and food.