I crouched beside the river, eyes locked on the shimmering surface of the trap.
Dozens of fish wriggled helplessly within the narrow enclosure, their silver scales glinting like scattered shards of light.
A grin tugged at my lips. "Jackpot."
Without wasting a moment, I reached into the cold water, grabbing a handful of slippery fish. They squirmed violently, splashing against my hands, but I held firm. One by one, I pulled them out, stacking them carefully onto the riverbank.
By the time I was done, I had enough to fill both my hands and stomach for the day — and maybe even the next.
And there were still dozens more trapped inside the enclosure—they couldn't fight against the current, nor could they escape through the narrow gaps I'd left between the logs for the water to pass.
"Not bad for a beginner," I muttered with a proud smile.
My beginner's luck really pulled through for me this time. I guess predators in this world don't bother much with small fish — not when there are giant beasts out there to satisfy their massive appetites.
I searched around and gathered several large, broad leaves — sturdy enough to use as makeshift wraps. I placed the fish inside, folding the leaves over them to create a crude bundle, tying it off with long strands of grass and petiole.
It wasn't perfect, but it would do.
The path back to the cave was quiet except for the rustle of leaves beneath my feet. The morning air was crisp, and a faint breeze carried the earthy scent of damp moss.
Although when I walk through the forest I'm afraid of sudden attacks, I still trust my senses.
By the time I reached my shelter, sunlight had already begun to warm the mouth of the cave. I stepped inside and let out a small sigh.
The cave still carried a faint, musky scent — a reminder of its former disgusting occupant. Even though I'd dragged the bear's body away, the air clung to the memory of its presence.
"Yeah… can't sleep in here unless I fix this."
Setting the leaf bundle aside, I picked up a stick and began scraping the ground, clearing out stray fur, loose dirt, and bits of dried blood.
Each scrape echoed faintly through the cave, mixing with my steady breathing. It took time — and a lot of effort — but eventually, the cave began to look more like a home and less like a battleground.
When the floor was clear, I stepped outside again, brushing my hands against my pants.
"Now… firewood."
For cooking my meals, I only had firewood as fuel to depend on. Without oil, it would be difficult, but it should be doable.
I scouted the surrounding forest, searching for fallen branches and dry twigs. The underbrush was damp in some places, but near the edges, where sunlight reached,
I found what I needed — small sticks for kindling, thicker logs for fuel.
Bit by bit, I stacked them in my arms until I had a decent pile.
By the time I returned, my shoulders ached from the load, but I couldn't help feeling a small flicker of satisfaction. I was getting better at this — slowly, but surely.
Am I going to be the next Bear Grylls!?
Inside the cave, I arranged the firewood neatly, just like I'd seen in countless survival videos.
"Alright, let's see if I can do this again…"
Pulling out the flint stones, I struck them together. Sparks danced in the dim light.
Clack! Clack! Clack!
Finally, a tiny ember caught. I leaned close, gently blowing on it, feeding it with dry grass until flames bloomed to life.
The wood was slow to catch fire, so I was blowing like crazy, and after what felt like an eternity, it finally turned into a strong enough flame.
The warm glow filled the cave, chasing away the shadows.
I sat back, wiping sweat from my forehead. "Never gets old…"
Now came the hard part.
I unwrapped the bundle of fish and laid them out. Their scales gleamed faintly in the firelight.
Gut them first — right, that's what they did in those videos.
Gripping my sword, I sliced off the heads of the fish in one swift motion. But the part where I had to cut open their bellies and remove the internal organs… yuck!
It wasn't pleasant work. My hands grew slick, the smell strong enough to wrinkle my nose.
But I managed — clumsy at first, then a bit steadier with each cut.
Even some of the fish got spoiled due to my small mistakes, making them too disgusting to eat, so I threw them away.
Once cleaned, I speared a few fish onto sharpened sticks whixh i have washed before and set them near the fire, rotating them slowly as they cooked. The scent of roasting meat filled the air — smoky, savory, and mouthwatering.
My stomach growled loudly. "Yeah, yeah, I get it."
Minutes later, the first fish was done. Golden skin, crisp edges — it looked… edible.
I took a cautious bite.
Hot. Smoky. Kind of charred.
Delicious.
A low hum escaped my lips as I chewed. "Oh, thank god…"
For the first time since entering Dúlach Forest, I wasn't just surviving — I was living.
The fish was tough, its skin slightly blackened from the flames. No seasoning, no oil—just the faint smoke and the bare, plain flesh. Not exactly a feast, but it would keep me alive.
Piece by piece, I devoured the fish, each bite melting away exhaustion. Warmth spread through my chest, comfort replacing the constant edge of hunger.
When I finally leaned back, only bones remained. The fire crackled softly beside me.
A satisfied smile crept onto my face.
It was the blandest fish I had ever eaten, dry and tough, but it is the only thing edible—and it would keep me alive.
I lay back against the cool stone wall, gazing up at the faint glow of the fire.
This world was harsh, unforgiving — but step by step, I was learning how to live in it.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges.
But for tonight, I had a full belly, a warm fire, and a safe place to sleep.
And in a world like this, that was more than enough.