Splishh...
The sword tore through the neck of the feral bear with a sickening, satisfying crunch.
Its massive paws slammed down on my shoulders, but they carried no real strength—only momentum and weight.
[You killed a Feral Bear. +80 EXP gained]
The sweet chime finally pierced the suffocating silence.
I slumped to the ground, every muscle trembling as the exhaustion from the day dragged me down.
But the pain in my shoulder shot through my whole body, shaking me violently.
Desperately, I reached for my wooden flask and washed the blood from the wound.
The tunic—or what remained of it from bandaging my previous injuries—I tore again, wringing it slightly before rolling it around my arm and securing it tightly over my shoulder.
I took a long, careful sip of the cold, clear water from the flask, letting it soothe the ache in my body, before finally laying down on the forest floor.
"Finally… my well-deserved rest," I whispered, letting the night's tension fade.
Sleep took me faster than usual, my body utterly spent, but I knew, deep down, the next few days would be far harsher than today.
The Dúlach Forest held more challenges, more deadly creatures, and the brutal reality of survival was only beginning to reveal itself.
---
The sound of leaves and branches crunching under my feet accompanied me as I made my way toward the river.
It was already my second day in the forest. Yesterday's battles with a Feral Wolf and a Feral Bear had drained me, but there was no way I could afford to skip a day. Every moment here was an opportunity to grow stronger, to survive.
Sunlight streamed through the thick canopy, warming the forest floor in patches.
After waking up this morning, I had first dragged the bear's body away from the cave. I couldn't risk my shelter smelling of rot; predators would surely follow any scent.
Shwishh… shwishh…
The satisfying rush of the river greeted me, and I hastily refilled my wooden flask with fresh water. I boiled it over the small fire I managed to rekindle, letting the heat disinfect it.
Ten minutes passed, but that was a necessary precaution—this was the only source of safe water I could find.
I stepped into the flowing water, letting it wash over me. The chill stung at first, but it carried away the grime, blood, and fatigue from yesterday's battles.
Emerging from the river, I sank down onto a patch of mossy ground to rest, feeling the forest around me come alive with the morning hum of birds and insects.
I wore only my pants. My tunic was gone—torn beyond recognition and now repurposed as makeshift bandages to cover the deep cuts across my chest and shoulders. Half-naked and sore, I couldn't help but smirk bitterly at my own predicament.
Survival in the forest was far from glamorous.
Brrrnnk…
My stomach growled, protesting the emptiness that had stretched for hours.
"Ahh! How the hell am I supposed to find food in the middle of the forest!?" I muttered, frustration mixing with panic.
Eating a dead bear was out of the question—I couldn't risk raw, unprocessed meat. It would surely make me sick.
Living on fruits alone was impossible; my body needed protein to survive. And what if some of the berries or fruits were poisonous? I was deep in a forest, after all, with no way to test them safely.
I pressed my palms against my face, trying to calm the growing panic. Hunger gnawed at me, but despair wouldn't fill my stomach. I needed a plan—something clever, something that didn't require hunting beasts I wasn't ready to fight yet.
And then suddenly, it appeared…
An idea.
Back on Earth, I had watched countless social media videos, and there was one of my favorite channels where two people built a house in the forest, silently, without speaking, just surviving with the land. In one episode, they showed how to build an entire house just from natural resources.
And in one of the videos, they built a fish farm.
A spark of inspiration lit inside me.
I scanned the riverbank. Logs, stones, and branches littered the ground.
Perfect.
I could create a small diversion in the river, something that would funnel fish into a confined space where I could catch them. My mind raced, planning each step.
First, I collected a few thick logs and smaller branches, dragging them carefully to a narrower stretch of the river.
Then, piece by piece, I blocked the main flow, leaving only a thin channel for water to pass through on the sides, creating a 'V' shape from logs.
The opening was narrow, just enough to let water trickle but too tight for the fish to swim freely.
Next, I placed stones and smaller branches to form a small enclosure at the end of the channel. Any fish that swam into the trap would be funneled inside and wouldn't be able to escape. It was crude, but it would work.
Shhh… shhh… shhh…
The water gurgled and flowed as I finished securing the final log. I crouched beside the trap, peering into the shallow pool. Tiny ripples danced across the surface.
"Now, we wait," I whispered to myself, adrenaline mixing with anticipation.
Even as hunger pangs stabbed my stomach, a sense of accomplishment lifted my spirits. I had food—not immediately, but soon enough.
And it was all thanks to remembering a simple trick I'd seen in a video.
For the first time since entering Dúlach Forest, I felt it—survival wasn't just about strength—it was about cunning, patience, and making the forest work for me.
And then, as if the forest itself approved of my effort, the fish began to swim into the trap. Not two or three—dozens, tens of them, flitting frantically but unable to escape the enclosure I had crafted.
I crouched beside the makeshift trap, heart hammering in my chest, eyes widening with disbelief. In less than half an hour, the trap was brimming with fish, scales glinting in the fading sunlight like scattered jewels.
I had never, in my wildest dreams, imagined a flowing stream could yield this many fish. Yet here they were, trapped by nothing more than logs, stones, and my quick thinking. I felt a mixture of awe and triumph, my chest swelling with a sense of accomplishment.
"By the gods… this is insane!" I whispered, barely believing my own luck. My fingers itched to start collecting them, but I resisted. Patience, I reminded myself. One careless move could let them escape.
For the first time since entering Dúlach Forest, a surge of hope washed over me. Survival wasn't just a brutal fight anymore—it could be cunning, creative… and even rewarding.