The forest was darker than Astraeus had expected. Moonlight filtered through the canopy in scattered patches, creating pools of silver that did little to illuminate the spaces between. Every shadow seemed to hide something watching, waiting. Every rustle of leaves made his heart race. He'd been walking for what felt like hours, following no particular direction, just trying to put distance between himself and the ruins.
His stomach growled, loud enough that he actually flinched. When had he last eaten? Before the expedition, probably. That felt like a lifetime ago, though it had only been... what? Ten hours? Twelve? Time had lost all meaning somewhere between dying and being resurrected.
"I need to find food," he said aloud, partly to Kha'Zul and partly just to hear a voice in the oppressive silence. "And water. And shelter."
Congratulations. You've discovered the basic requirements for survival. Shall I applaud?
"Your sarcasm is really helpful right now."
I'm a Demon King, not a wilderness guide. Figure it out yourself.
Astraeus gritted his teeth and kept walking. His academy robes were torn and dirty, offering little protection against the cool night air. His boots—designed for walking on polished academy floors, not hiking through forests—were already giving him blisters. He had no supplies, no weapons beyond his basic knowledge of magic, and no idea where he was going.
"This is fine," he muttered. "Everything is fine."
You're talking to yourself. That's usually a bad sign.
"I'm talking to you."
I'm in your head. Same thing.
A branch snapped somewhere to his left, and Astraeus froze. He strained his ears, listening for any sound of movement. For a long moment, there was nothing. Then he heard it—something breathing, low and steady, accompanied by the soft pad of feet on forest floor.
"Kha'Zul," he whispered. "What is that?"
How should I know? I can sense what you sense. And you, apparently, have the observational skills of a blind mole.
"Can you at least tell me if it's dangerous?"
Everything in a forest at night is potentially dangerous. Especially to someone as weak as you.
The breathing grew closer. Astraeus backed up slowly, trying not to make noise, trying not to panic. His hand instinctively reached for the Ethereal Essence around him, and he felt it respond, gathering at his will. Silver-blue light began to form around his fingers.
A wolf stepped into view.
It was massive, easily twice the size of any wolf Astraeus had seen in books or drawings. Its fur was dark gray, almost black in the moonlight, and its eyes reflected the light with an eerie yellow glow. The creature's lips pulled back, revealing teeth that looked designed for tearing flesh from bone.
"Oh no," Astraeus breathed.
Oh yes, Kha'Zul said, and there was something almost amused in his mental voice. Dire wolf. Apex predator. Hunts in packs. You should probably run.
"Run? You just said—"
I said everything is dangerous. I didn't say running wouldn't help. Though honestly, it probably won't. Dire wolves are faster than humans.
The wolf growled, a sound that vibrated in Astraeus's chest. Behind it, more shapes emerged from the shadows. Two more wolves, just as large, just as dangerous. They spread out, forming a semicircle, cutting off escape routes with the practiced efficiency of experienced hunters.
Astraeus's mind raced. He couldn't outrun them. He couldn't fight them—he was a second-year academy student who'd barely passed his combat exams. His only advantage was magic, and he had exactly one offensive spell in his repertoire that might work.
"I need to fight," he said, his voice steadier than he felt.
Finally. Some sense.
The lead wolf lunged.
Time seemed to slow. Astraeus saw the creature's muscles bunch, saw it launch itself through the air, jaws open wide. His body moved on instinct, diving to the side while his hands formed the gestures he'd practiced a thousand times in academy training halls.
"Ignis Sagitta!" he shouted, and Ethereal Essence surged through him, shaping itself according to the spell formula burned into his memory.
A bolt of fire erupted from his palm, streaking through the air and catching the wolf mid-leap. The creature yelped, twisting away, but the fire clung to its fur, spreading. It hit the ground hard and rolled, trying to extinguish the flames.
[SKILL USED: BASIC FIRE MAGIC]
[ETHEREAL ESSENCE: 30/50]
The other two wolves hesitated, their pack leader injured and disoriented. Astraeus didn't give them time to reconsider. He formed another bolt of fire, his hands moving through the gestures with desperate speed.
"Ignis Sagitta!"
The second bolt caught the leftmost wolf in the shoulder. It howled, backing away, smoke rising from singed fur. The third wolf, seeing two of its packmates injured, made a decision. It turned and fled into the forest, the other two limping after it.
Astraeus stood there, breathing hard, his hands still glowing with residual Ethereal Essence. His whole body was shaking, adrenaline making his vision sharp and his thoughts race.
"I did it," he said, disbelief coloring his voice. "I actually did it."
You survived. Don't confuse that with victory.
"I'll take what I can get."
[COMBAT ENCOUNTER COMPLETE]
[EXPERIENCE GAINED: 30]
[EXPERIENCE: 30/150]
The system notification appeared, and Astraeus felt a small surge of satisfaction. He was getting stronger. Slowly, painfully, but it was happening.
Your spell casting is sloppy, Kha'Zul observed. You waste essence on unnecessary flourishes. And your aim is terrible. You should have hit the first wolf in the head, not the torso.
"I was being attacked by a giant wolf. I think I did pretty well considering."
You did adequately. Which means you'll die slightly slower than I expected. Now keep moving. The smell of burnt fur will attract other predators.
Astraeus wanted to argue, wanted to sit down and process what had just happened, but Kha'Zul was right. He forced his legs to move, continuing through the forest, every sense on high alert.
The trees began to thin after another hour of walking, and Astraeus caught sight of something that made his heart leap with hope—smoke rising in the distance, illuminated by the first hints of dawn on the horizon. Where there was smoke, there was fire. Where there was fire, there were people.
He picked up his pace, exhaustion forgotten in the face of potential safety. The smoke led him to a dirt road, rutted and uneven but clearly maintained. Following the road brought him to a small village nestled in a clearing at the forest's edge.
The village was tiny, maybe twenty buildings clustered around a central square. Most were simple wooden structures with thatched roofs, the kind of construction that spoke of practical necessity rather than wealth. A few early risers were already moving about—a woman drawing water from a well, an old man feeding chickens, a blacksmith stoking his forge.
Astraeus approached cautiously, suddenly aware of how he must look. His academy robes were torn and stained with dirt and blood. His hair was wild, his face probably smudged with grime. He looked like exactly what he was: someone who'd barely survived a night in the wilderness.
The woman at the well noticed him first. She straightened, her hand moving to the knife at her belt, her expression wary.
"Morning," Astraeus called out, trying to sound non-threatening. "I'm sorry to intrude. I got lost in the forest and was hoping someone might be able to help me."
The woman studied him for a long moment, her eyes taking in his appearance, the academy crest barely visible on his torn robes. Her expression softened slightly.
"Lost, were you?" Her voice was rough but not unkind. "You're a long way from any academy I know of."
"There was an accident," Astraeus said, which was technically true. "An expedition went wrong. I'm the only one who made it out."
The woman's expression shifted to sympathy. "Come on, then. You look half-dead. I'll get you some food and water, and we can figure out what to do with you."
Careful, Kha'Zul warned. Humans are just as dangerous as wolves. More so, sometimes.
"I don't have much choice," Astraeus murmured under his breath.
The woman led him to a small building that appeared to be a combination of tavern and inn. Inside, the air was warm and smelled of bread and porridge. A handful of villagers sat at rough wooden tables, eating breakfast and talking in low voices. They all looked up when Astraeus entered, conversations dying as they took in his appearance.
"Mira, who's this?" an older man asked, his tone suspicious.
"Academy student," the woman—Mira—replied. "Says there was an accident. He needs food and rest."
"Academy?" Another man, younger, with the build of a laborer, leaned forward. "What kind of accident?"
Astraeus's mind raced, trying to come up with a story that would satisfy their curiosity without revealing too much. "We were surveying old ruins. There was a collapse. I got separated from the group and had to make my way out alone."
It was close enough to the truth that he could sell it convincingly. The villagers exchanged glances, their suspicion fading into a mixture of pity and curiosity.
"The Valdris ruins?" the older man asked. "That's cursed ground, boy. No one goes there."
"The academy thought it was safe," Astraeus said, which was true. They had thought it was safe. They'd been catastrophically wrong.
Mira brought him a bowl of porridge and a cup of water. Astraeus fell on the food like a starving animal, barely tasting it, just shoveling it into his mouth as fast as he could. The villagers watched with a mixture of amusement and concern.
"When did you last eat?" Mira asked.
"Yesterday morning," Astraeus managed between mouthfuls.
"And you've been wandering the forest all night? You're lucky to be alive. Dire wolves hunt those woods."
"I know," Astraeus said, remembering the encounter with uncomfortable clarity. "I ran into some. Managed to scare them off with fire magic."
That earned him some impressed looks. Magic users were rare outside of cities and academies, and the ability to cast combat spells marked him as someone with at least basic training.
"You can stay here for the day," Mira said. "Rest up. But we don't have much in the way of supplies to spare. Come evening, you'll need to move on."
"I understand. Thank you."
Ask about the nearest city, Kha'Zul prompted. You need supplies, information, and a place to train without attracting attention.
"Is there a city nearby?" Astraeus asked. "Somewhere I can resupply and send word to the academy about what happened?"
"Thornhaven," the older man said. "Three days' walk east along the main road. It's a trade city, big enough to have a mage guild and a courier service. You can sort yourself out there."
Three days. Astraeus tried not to let his exhaustion show. Three more days of walking, with minimal supplies, through potentially dangerous territory. But what choice did he have?
"Thank you," he said again. "I appreciate your help."
Mira showed him to a small room upstairs—barely more than a closet with a bed, but it looked like paradise to Astraeus. He collapsed onto the thin mattress, not even bothering to remove his boots.
Sleep, Kha'Zul said, his mental voice unusually quiet. You're no use to either of us if you collapse from exhaustion.
"What about you?" Astraeus asked drowsily. "Do demons sleep?"
I've been imprisoned for three thousand years. I've had enough rest to last several lifetimes. Sleep, boy. I'll keep watch.
It should have been unsettling, knowing that a Demon King was watching over him while he slept. But Astraeus was too tired to care. His eyes closed, and within seconds, he was unconscious.
He dreamed of fire and shadow. Of burning eyes and ivory horns. Of dying and being reborn. Of power flowing through him like a river, vast and terrible and intoxicating. In the dream, he stood in the ruins, facing Kha'Zul again, but this time he didn't die. This time he fought back, Ethereal Essence blazing around him like a star.
And Kha'Zul laughed, not with mockery but with something that might have been approval.
Good, the demon said in the dream. Now you're learning.
Astraeus woke to afternoon sunlight streaming through the small window. His body ached in places he didn't know could ache, and his throat was dry as sand. But he was alive, rested, and for the first time since his resurrection, he felt like he might actually survive this.
He sat up slowly, wincing at the protest from his muscles. The system interface appeared automatically in his vision, displaying his current status.
[HEALTH: 130/130]
[ETHEREAL ESSENCE: 50/50]
[STAMINA: 100/100]
Everything had regenerated while he slept. That was useful to know.
"Kha'Zul?" he said quietly.
I'm here. Where else would I be?
"Did anything happen while I was asleep?"
Nothing worth mentioning. The villagers are simple folk, no threat. Though the blacksmith has been glancing at this building with suspicion. He senses something off about you.
"Can people sense the binding?"
Some can. Those with magical sensitivity might feel that you're... different. Not quite normal. It's subtle, but it's there.
Astraeus stood and stretched, working the stiffness from his limbs. He needed to move on soon, before anyone started asking questions he couldn't answer. But first, he needed to understand more about what he'd become."The system," he said.
"Can you explain it to me? Really explain it, not just the basics."
Kha'Zul was silent for a moment, and Astraeus could feel the demon's consciousness shifting, considering.
The God System is ancient, Kha'Zul finally said. Older than me, older than most of the gods currently worshipped. It's a tool created by the first Reality Anchors to stabilize existence itself. When reality threatens to unravel—when dimensional boundaries weaken, when cosmic entities threaten to break through—the system activates and chooses someone to serve as an anchor point.
"Why me?"
I don't know. The system's selection criteria are opaque even to me. But it chose you, bound me to you, and gave you the potential to grow from a pathetic student into something that could stand against gods. Whether you fulfill that potential or die trying is entirely up to you.
"Comforting."
I'm not here to comfort you.
Astraeus pulled up the system interface again, focusing on the QUESTS section he'd ignored earlier.
[QUESTS]
Active Quests:
•Reach Thornhaven (Reward: 100 Experience, Basic Survival Kit)
•Train Basic Ethereal Manipulation to Level 5 (Reward: Skill Evolution Option)
Available Quests:
•[LOCKED - Reach Level 5]
•[LOCKED - Reach Level 5]
•[LOCKED - Reach Level 10]
"There are quests," Astraeus said. "Goals the system wants me to complete."
Follow them. The system knows what you need to survive and grow stronger. Trust it, even if you don't trust me.
Astraeus closed the interface and moved to the window, looking out over the village. People were going about their daily lives, completely unaware that a boy who'd died and been resurrected was standing in their inn, bound to a Demon King, marked as a Reality Anchor.
He thought about his mother, probably frantic with worry by now. He thought about his friends at the academy, who would be mourning him. He thought about the life he'd lost.
But dwelling on what was gone wouldn't help him survive what was coming.
"Alright," he said quietly, making a decision. "Thornhaven. Three days. I can do that."
Of course you can. You survived death itself. Walking is trivial by comparison.
"When did you become encouraging?"
I'm not encouraging you. I'm stating facts. There's a difference.
Despite everything—the fear, the exhaustion, the overwhelming uncertainty—Astraeus found himself smiling. He had a Demon King bound to his soul, a mysterious system guiding his path, and a journey ahead that would probably kill him a dozen times over.
But he'd already died once and come back.
He could do it again if he had to.
Astraeus gathered what few possessions he had—which amounted to his torn robes and the clothes on his back—and headed downstairs. Mira was behind the bar, cleaning mugs with a rag.
"Leaving already?" she asked.
"I need to get to Thornhaven," Astraeus said. "The sooner I can send word about what happened, the better."
She nodded, understanding. "Take this." She handed him a small bundle wrapped in cloth. "Bread and dried meat. It's not much, but it'll keep you going for a day or two."
"I can't pay you," Astraeus admitted, embarrassed.
"I'm not asking you to. You're a student who survived something terrible. Consider it charity." She paused, then added, "Be careful on the road. Bandits sometimes work the route to Thornhaven. And there are worse things than bandits in these parts."
"I'll be careful," Astraeus promised.
He stepped out into the afternoon sun, the bundle of food tucked under his arm, and began walking east along the dirt road. The village disappeared behind him within minutes, swallowed by the forest.
Three days to Thornhaven. Three days to figure out his next move. Three days to train, to grow stronger, to learn how to survive in a world that had become infinitely more dangerous.
You're thinking too much, Kha'Zul observed.
"I'm trying to plan."
Plans are useless. The moment you encounter real danger, all your careful planning will evaporate. Focus on the present. Walk. Train. Survive. Everything else is secondary.
"You're surprisingly practical for a Demon King."
I ruled for three thousand years. You don't maintain power that long without understanding the value of pragmatism.
They walked in companionable silence for a while, the road stretching ahead, the forest pressing close on either side. Astraeus practiced manipulating Ethereal Essence as he walked, forming small spheres of light, shaping them into different forms, testing the limits of his control.
[SKILL EXPERIENCE GAINED: BASIC ETHEREAL MANIPULATION]
[PROGRESS: 15/100]
The sun was setting by the time he found a suitable place to camp—a small clearing just off the road, with a fallen log that would serve as a seat and enough open space that nothing could approach without him seeing it.
He gathered wood, used a small burst of fire magic to light it, and sat down to eat the food Mira had given him. The bread was dense and filling, the dried meat tough but flavorful. It was the best meal he'd ever tasted.
As darkness fell and the fire crackled, Astraeus stared into the flames and thought about the journey ahead. Not just the three days to Thornhaven, but the years beyond. The battles he would fight. The power he would gain. The person he would become.
He had died as a coward.
He would not live as one.
"Tomorrow," he said to the fire, to Kha'Zul, to himself, "we start training properly."
Finally, Kha'Zul said. I was beginning to think you'd never ask.
And in the darkness of the forest, with a demon bound to his shadow and a god system lighting his path, Astraeus Ren took the first real step toward becoming something more than human.