The last of the sunlight bled away.
Cass stood in the tall grass with the knife steady in his hand. The plain stretched endless around him, silvered now by the faint glow of moonlight. The river shone like a cut vein of glass far off, and the mountains on the horizon turned into jagged silhouettes. The world looked beautiful in the dark. Beautiful and merciless.
He knew this was when most players died.
[System]:Nightfall has begun. Survival conditions adjusted.
The message burned in the corner of his vision, clinical and cold. Cass breathed slow through his nose, forcing calm. He remembered nights like this from his first life—stories passed around in panic. Whole parties wiped out because they tried to camp without walls. Lone players vanishing from the rankings without a word.
But back then he had been a Traveler. He had been allowed to run, to hide, to skirt the edge of safety. Tonight he had no choice. The test demanded he stay. No fire. No walls. Just the open plain.
His heart pounded.
The grass whispered.
A low growl broke the silence.
Cass pivoted, eyes scanning the dark. Two pinpoints of light blinked back. Yellow eyes. Low to the ground.
The wolf stepped into the moonlight. Its fur bristled, ragged and dark. Its ribs pressed sharp against its hide. Hunger gleamed in its eyes.
[Wild Spawn: Feral Wolf – Level 2]
Cass swallowed hard. He remembered how unfair this had felt to early players. No equipment. No party. Just a rusty knife and the mercy of luck. He tightened his grip. There was no luck tonight. Only him.
The wolf crept closer. Its breath steamed in the night air. Its paws barely stirred the grass.
Cass forced himself to wait. His body screamed to back away, but he planted his feet. Wait until it lunges. Don't waste energy. Don't panic.
The wolf's muscles bunched.
It leapt.
Cass dropped low, knife snapping up in a desperate slash. The blade scraped across its side. Not deep. Not killing. But enough. The wolf snarled, twisting midair, landing with a thud and spinning back toward him.
[System]:Damage inflicted: −6 HP.
The numbers were meaningless compared to the reality. Cass's hand stung from the impact. His breath shook. The wolf circled now, teeth bared, blood wetting its fur.
It lunged again. Cass pivoted, knife flashing. The blade caught its shoulder this time. The wolf yelped, staggering.
[System]:Critical wound inflicted.
The animal collapsed, body twitching in the grass. Then still.
Cass stood shaking, knife dripping dark. His lungs burned. His body trembled with adrenaline.
[System]:Survival progress: 12%.
He almost laughed. Twelve percent. He had killed for twelve percent.
The grass rustled again.
Another growl.
Two growls.
Cass froze. His stomach dropped.
Two more wolves slinked into view. Their eyes gleamed in the dark, bright and cruel.
"Of course," he whispered.
This was how the system worked. Not fair. Not balanced. A test.
He steadied his grip. His arms felt weak already. His bread-heavy stomach churned. His breath rasped.
The wolves spread out, circling.
He remembered something. Old forum chatter. Half-forgotten advice from desperate players. Wolves feared fire, but the quest banned it. What else? Sound. Noise. Wolves disliked sudden disruption.
Cass drew a breath. Then he screamed.
The sound tore from his chest raw and jagged. It echoed across the plain, bouncing back from the hills.
The wolves flinched. Their eyes flicked, bodies twitching.
Cass lunged, knife stabbing at the nearest. He missed the head, slashing its flank instead. Blood sprayed. The wolf yelped and retreated.
The second lunged at his side. He twisted, rolling into the grass, knife jabbing up. The blade punched into soft belly. The wolf howled, thrashing. Cass yanked the knife free and scrambled back, breath ragged, face slick with sweat.
The first wolf circled again, snarling. But then it hesitated. Blood dripped from its flank. It growled once more, low and furious, then slunk back into the dark.
The second twitched, gasped, and stilled.
[System]:Survival progress: 31%.
Cass dropped to his knees. His arms shook so hard the knife nearly fell from his grip. His breath came ragged. His chest heaved.
He wanted to collapse. To close his eyes. To let the exhaustion drag him down.
But he couldn't.
The night wasn't over.
Hours blurred.
He fought. He bled. He screamed into the dark until his throat was raw. His arms ached from striking, from stabbing, from pushing away teeth and claws. The copper stench of blood filled his nose. His body shook from cold and pain.
He lost count of the kills. Wolves. A fox with glowing eyes. Something like a shadow-cat that slunk too close.
Every time he faltered, he thought of her.
His mother's smile, tired but warm. Her hand resting on his cheek. Her voice telling him to hold on, to keep going, even when the bills piled so high they crushed him.
He thought of the hospital room. The hollow beeping. The silence after it stopped.
Not this time.
He gritted his teeth and stood each time he thought he would fall.
[System]:Survival progress: 67%.
[System]:Survival progress: 89%.
His vision blurred. His body swayed. The knife slipped in his blood-slicked hand.
The sky began to pale.
The first rays of dawn stretched across the plain. Gold brushed the grass tips. The river shimmered. Birds rose in flocks, singing the light awake.
Cass fell to his knees, trembling, bloodied, exhausted.
[System]:Quest complete.
[System]:Reward unlocked: Pathway to the Warble Tribe.
He laughed. A broken, breathless laugh that scraped his throat. He had survived.
The grass rustled. The forager stepped out, eyes sharp, expression unreadable. He studied Cass in silence for a long moment.
Then he nodded. "Child of sun. You did not run. You stood."
The forager extended a hand.
"Come. The tribe will see you now."
Cass took his hand, rising on shaking legs. The dawn burned bright behind him, painting the sky in fire.
And for the first time in two lives, he felt the path opening.