The sudden update in the quest startled me.
If there's one thing I'd learned from all those manga and novels I devoured back on Earth, it's that once a quest is given — it's final. Set in stone. Unchanging.
But this…
[Quest of Survival: Updated]
The glowing screen pulsed before my eyes, and I blinked, half in disbelief.
[You have been warned about your upcoming death. The chances of survival increase with your level — the higher your level, the higher your chances of survival.]
[To build your strength, you have been provided with three Sub-Quests.]
A subquest? Or rather, three subquests?
My jaw almost dropped. Since when does a quest split itself into parts?
Taking a steadying breath, I focused on the text as it unfolded before me.
First Task:
[Objective: Survive for one month inside Dúlach Forest without returning to shelter.]
[Reward: +500 EXP, +5 Stat Points (User's Choice), Full Access of inventory]
[Failure: Immediate termination of Host. Reason – Quest breach.]
Second Task:
[Objective: Hunt and kill 10 Feral-ranked beasts within 7 days.]
[Reward: +200 EXP, +1 Stat Point (User's Choice)]
Third Task:
[Objective: Slay every goblin within Dúlach Forest in one month.]
[Reward: +200 EXP, +2 Stat Points (User's Choice)]
I stared at the screen, speechless.
Not only did the quest just update itself, but it handed me three death sentences wrapped as "objectives."
Survive a month in this cursed forest? Hunt Feral-ranked beasts? Exterminate every goblin?
"...You're kidding me," I muttered, rubbing my temple.
Still, a grim smile crept up my face.
It looked like the system wasn't done tormenting me — and running away wasn't an option anymore.
The first quest is the hardest one — surviving in this cursed forest is like asking for death.
The Dúlach Forest is crawling with dangerous beasts like Feral Wolves, and those things don't hunt alone. If a pack comes after me… I'm done for.
And to live thirty days out here without proper food or water? That's nearly impossible.
But if I don't do it… then the system—
The system will be gone.
Breaching the quest means I'll lose the system entirely. And without it, I'm just another helpless human in a world that wants me dead.
The other two tasks don't matter right now. What I need first is shelter. Food and water can come later — I can drink from rivers, pick fruits from trees, maybe hunt something small if I get lucky.
But shelter... that's something I'll have to find soon — a place hidden enough to keep me safe, yet close enough to escape if things go bad.
My gaze drifted to the Crimson Vial Plant resting on the heap of dried leaves. I couldn't take it with me just yet — first, I needed a secure shelter. Only then could I claim it.
Cautiously, I lifted the plant and nestled it among the shrubs, letting the tall grass hide it from view.
To make sure I could find it again, I quickly marked the nearest tree, carving a deep gash into its trunk. The scar would serve as a clear sign — a reminder that some things were too valuable to risk.
"Ughh…"
The agony in my chest burned hotter with every breath. Blood poured freely from the deep cuts across my body, soaking my clothes, dripping onto the forest floor.
Until now, adrenaline and the chaos of battle had kept me moving, numbing the worst of it. But now — with even a moment's pause — the pain roared back, dragging me into the reality of just how bad this was.
I pressed a trembling hand against my wounds, gritting my teeth.
I can't… I can't die from blood loss.
Quickly, I staggered toward the main water source I knew of — the river.
There was a pond not far from here, but stagnant water meant disease, parasites, and death. I wasn't about to risk that.
Flowing water was my best chance — both to clean my wounds and to drink without poisoning myself.
Shhh… shhh…
The gurgling river reached my ears, each splash like a pulse in the quiet forest.
I crouched low and pulled off my tunic, exposing my wounds to the fresh air.
It took me around five minutes to clean myself, carefully rinsing the blood from the cuts before hastily tearing a strip from my shirt to bandage the deepest wounds.
Now it was time to make water drinkable. I scanned the riverbank, searching for something useful to use as a makeshift container.
Spotting a small fallen log, I gripped my sword tightly and set to work. My task was simple — hollow out the log enough to hold water.
The log was about three inches wide, with a sturdy base to settle on flat ground without tipping. Slice by slice, I carved it carefully, splinters flying, hands aching, sweat dripping from my brow.
The sword's sharpness would surely have suffered, but after several minutes, I had a crude yet usable vessel.
I dipped it into the rushing river, roughly rinsing it first, then letting it fill with cold, clear water. The chill bit at my fingers, but I didn't dare spill a single drop. This water was precious — for drinking, and possibly for cooking in the future.
Next came the fire. I couldn't drink the water directly — city life had spoiled me. Untreated water could easily make me sick.
I gathered dry twigs, leaves, and a few small branches, stacking them carefully on a flat patch of earth. Then, gripping my sword, I struck it against a sharp piece of flint I'd found near the riverbank. Sparks flew, landing on the dry tinder. I struck again, and again, until one caught. A tiny flicker of flame wavered, then grew, licking at the twigs hungrily.
With the fire alive, I quickly collected a few smooth stones from the riverbank and rinsed them slightly. Tossing them into the flames, I waited until they glowed red-hot.
Using two sticks to handle them carefully, I dropped the stones into the hollowed log of water. Steam hissed and curled into the forest air, and I watched tensely as the water began to boil.
When the stones cooled i threw them away, I lifted the hollowed log to my lips and drank directly from it.
The first sip burned slightly from the heat, but it was life itself. I drank greedily, feeling strength return to my limbs and clarity to my fogged mind.
For the first time since the wolf attack, I felt… a small measure of control.