Astar stepped out of the cave with caution, feeling the sunlight pierce through his skin and burn his eyes, which had grown used to the twilight. He raised a hand to shield his face, giving himself time to adjust to the brightness of the outside world. Before him stretched that same strange forest once again. This place seemed unlike anything he had ever seen — even in photographs or videos back on Earth.

  Towering trees with gnarled, knotted trunks stood like ancient giants, their branches reaching toward the sky to form a dense green canopy overhead. Yet the foliage shimmered with soft shades of blue. Strange mossy growths clung to the trunks, glowing faintly with a dull azure light. Barely visible by day, their glow left the impression of some hidden magic coursing through the land itself.

  The forest was full of sounds, but none familiar. Instead of the rustling of leaves or birdcalls, Astar heard sharp, clicking noises from above. At times, it seemed as if something high in the trees was whispering, though he could see no one. From below came the steady hum of insects, their movements synchronized and rhythmic.

  Every step on the soft forest floor felt like a leap into the unknown. Instead of grass, translucent plants with glowing blue veins grew underfoot. When he brushed against one, it recoiled with a faint hiss and vanished into the ground.

  "What the hell..." Astar muttered, jerking his hand back. "The deeper into the forest, the stranger everything gets... Near the mine it wasn’t this weird..."

  This forest wasn’t just unfamiliar. It breathed, whispered, lived with a rhythm of its own. He hadn’t seen a single creature yet, aside from rare glimpses of insects that disappeared before he could get a good look. But even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something — or someone — was watching him.

  His mind kept running on autopilot. A piece of advice from a long-forgotten survival video resurfaced, like a lifeline in this bizarre and threatening world.

  He scratched a notch into the bark of a nearby tree using the sharp tip of his spear. A faint scent of sap drifted into the air.

  "Better safe than sorry," he muttered.

  His thoughts returned to the basics: water and food. Those needs pounded in his head like drums. There was no point continuing if he couldn’t survive a few days out here. He knew that the abyssia was sustaining him to some extent, but it didn’t erase the basic needs of the body. Even if he wanted to set off for the city, securing provisions came first.

  Astar continued deeper into the woods, straining to catch the sound of a river or a stream. The notches he carved into trees became his lifeline through the chaos.

  "I don’t know how things work here or what my body’s even capable of... But if I find a river, would it be safe to drink from it? If not, can I even boil water here? Complicated..." Thoughts swirled in his mind as he tried to calculate the risks.

  Suddenly, a distant rumble reached him — a mix between a beast’s low growl and the crack of breaking branches. Astar froze, tightening his grip on the spear.

  "Doesn’t sound like that monster," he exhaled, glancing around.

  But something stirred inside him. His new strength, though still untested, gave him confidence. For the first time, he didn’t feel like a helpless victim. He felt like someone who could fight back.

  "I’ll just take a look from a distance..." he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow and moving toward the sound.

  Astar crept forward slowly and carefully, every step measured. The notches on the trees grew closer together now — if he had to run, he needed a clear path back. The spear gave him a bit of comfort, but every shifting shadow between the trees made his heart clench. He was no hunter, and he didn’t feel at ease pretending to be one. If not for his newfound strength, he’d probably be trembling.

  The growl faded, and the forest returned to its usual cacophony. But soon the sounds began to shift. Among the clicks and rustles, he caught the soft splashing of water.

  "A water source? Perfect," Astar thought, and the tension in his body eased a little. Water could solve several of his problems at once.

  As he pushed forward, the forest began to thin, and the light grew stronger. Sunbeams filtered through the canopy, revealing a crystal-clear lake surrounded by smooth stones and thick vegetation. The water sparkled, reflecting the green and bluish hues of the leaves.

  And then he saw it...

  By the water stood a creature unlike anything he could have imagined, even in his strangest fantasies. At first glance, it resembled a calf — a stocky body with short, stubby legs. But a closer look quickly shattered the illusion. It had no fur. Its skin was smooth, coated in a thin, almost pearlescent layer. Its head was massive, and instead of a mouth, it had short tentacles writhing in the air, as if searching for unseen prey.

  "Judging by its aura, it’s not an abyssal… Could it really be just an animal?"

  Astar froze, an instinctive curiosity flaring in his chest. The creature made no sound, occasionally dipping its tentacles into the water with gentle splashes. Its movements were slow, almost lazy — but Astar wasn’t ready to relax just yet.

  "Yeah, some 'cow' this is," he muttered under his breath.

  His mind wavered between curiosity and caution. The creature didn’t look aggressive, but in this world, appearances could be deceiving. Astar tightened his grip on the spear again, feeling his body tense, bracing for the worst.

  He stepped to the side, slipping behind the nearest tree. He needed a plan. Maybe the creature would make a nutritious dinner—or maybe it was a source of danger. He squinted, watching how its tentacles rose effortlessly from the water, drops sparkling in the sunlight.

  “If it’s drinking from this pond, then maybe I can too…” the thought flickered.

  He stood there for several minutes, simply observing. His breathing slowed, becoming nearly silent. Gradually, Astar began to notice the details. Around the lake were several tracks disappearing into the forest. This creature clearly wasn’t alone.

  “Back on Earth, they used to say predators rarely attack near water… Wonder how true that is here?” he thought.

  “As disgusting as it might be, I need to survive,” he decided, lifting the spear. “Better to test my strength on this thing than run straight into an abyssal…”

  Astar slowly raised the spear, never taking his eyes off the strange creature. His body tensed; every muscle hummed with a strange clarity. He could feel his breath slowing, his heartbeat steady and even, his fingers tightening around the shaft. Every part of him aligned with a single purpose—kill.

  What shocked him most was how natural it all felt. The movements weren’t just intuitive; they were precise. Astar realized that he had never felt this way before—the strength of abyssia and the technique had clearly reshaped his body. Once, he would’ve thrown the spear blindly. Now, he could feel exactly how and with what force to move his arm.

  The spear angled slightly backward, the tension just right. He immediately knew this throw would hit the creature’s head. His brain wasn’t calculating—it simply knew.

  “If it attacks, I’ll just run,” he whispered, locking into position.

  The creature continued to drink from the lake, completely unaware of the hidden threat. Its tentacles moved lazily, and its bulky body swayed gently. It had no idea it was seconds from death.

  “Maybe I’m imagining things? I couldn’t have changed this much since arriving in this strange world…” a stray thought surfaced.

  Astar inhaled deeply. His body felt like it was drawing power from the world around him—every sound, every shadow, every minute detail. His hands radiated a pleasant warmth; the spear felt like an extension of his will. In that moment, abyssia flowed through him like a surge of power. Gray mist began to seep from beneath his skin.

  “Don’t fail me,” he whispered—and with a sharp motion, he let the spear fly.

  Shuuuv! the weapon tore from his hands at incredible speed. Time seemed to slow, leaving only the whistle of the shaft slicing through the air. Astar stared forward, stunned. It all happened in an instant.

  The spear sliced the air with a deafening hiss, meeting no resistance. The next moment, the creature’s head exploded into a bloody spray.

  Paf! the detonation of flesh and bone was so violent that Astar instinctively flinched, memories of the metallic tang of blood rushing back to him.

  But it wasn’t over. The spear, having torn through the creature’s skull, slammed into the rock wall behind it with monstrous force.

  Ba-baam! the impact cracked the stone like an explosion, flinging shards and rubble in every direction. The sharp crack echoed through the forest, and the lake’s surface rippled violently in its wake.

  Astar stood frozen, breath caught in his chest. The entire scene was so surreal that it took a moment for his brain to catch up.

  “Wh—what the hell?!” he whispered, staring at the destruction.

  The creature’s remains scattered across the shore and into the water. Strange fish—something between eels and piranhas—darted to the surface. They tore into the floating bits of meat with snapping jaws, their teeth crunching through flesh and bone.

  “Did I do that?” Astar breathed, glancing down at his hands.

  His palms trembled slightly—not from fear, but from the realization of the strength now coursing through his veins. He could feel the abyssia churning inside him like an unstoppable force of nature.

  “This isn’t normal… I already felt superhuman when I absorbed memoria, but this… I’ve become even stronger,” the thought struck.

  He stepped closer to the water, watching the fish devour every last scrap of flesh. His heart pounded wildly, yet his mind strained to adapt to this new reality.

  “Even if I’ve become stronger… it’s terrifying,” he murmured, shifting his gaze to the shattered rock wall.

  The shattered portion revealed the inner layers of stone. Fragments of rock lay scattered across the shore, some wedged into the nearby vegetation. This hadn’t been an ordinary throw—the spear had become a weapon of destruction, capable of tearing apart both flesh and earth.

  But he didn’t have time to reflect.

  Raaaar! The silence of the forest was shattered by a guttural roar, rising from the depths of the trees. Astar froze, whipping his head toward the sound. His heart pounded again, and his fingers instinctively reached for the cliffside.

  “Shit! That explosion must’ve attracted something bigger!” flashed through his mind.

  Ra-ar! The roar came again, louder and closer this time. Astar tensed and immediately looked toward his spear. If it came to a fight, he needed that weapon.

  He bolted toward the corpse of the slain creature, his legs springing off the ground as he leapt over scattered remains of flesh and shattered rock. Adrenaline surged through his veins—every thought and motion focused solely on retrieving his spear.

  He landed beside the cliff and, without hesitation, grabbed the shaft, now buried deep in the cracked stone. Muscles straining, he yanked with all his might, and with a thunderous crack, the weapon came free. Pebbles and dust rained down, the sound echoing through the forest.

  “It’s intact!” Astar muttered in surprise, examining the spear. Even after such a devastating impact, there wasn’t a single crack on it—the tip gleamed in the sunlight as if freshly forged.

  But before he could fully process the extent of his power, a new nightmare emerged from the forest. At first, he heard it—dull, thunderous footsteps that made the earth subtly tremble. Then came a wet, slurping noise, and a figure stepped onto the shore—an abomination born of nightmares.

  The creature resembled a massive gorilla, easily three meters tall. Its body, draped in scraps of charred, blackened flesh, exposed bones in places—jagged white shards jutting out like spears. A single, enormous eye occupied the center of its monstrous head, and within that eye swirled countless pupils, each moving independently, scanning the surroundings.

  Thick, black smoke billowed from its mouth, curling into the air as if the creature was burning from the inside. Bits of mangled flesh still clung between its teeth—the remains of a smaller animal being crunched with sickening snaps. Crimson streaks dripped from its maw, staining its grotesque face, neck, and chest.

  “…Shit. That’s definitely an abyssal,” Astar exhaled, gripping the spear with both hands.

  The gorilla halted and lifted its head. Its single eye froze for a moment—then all the pupils locked onto Astar. It let out a low, guttural growl that sent a tremor down his spine.

  “Feels like… it’s at the Premarch stage,” the thought struck him, as if he sensed the monster’s power. It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling—like he could instinctively gauge his opponent’s level.

  Doom! The creature took a step forward, its massive clawed limbs leaving deep imprints in the soil. The smoke pouring from its jaws thickened, filling the air with a sour, suffocating stench.

  It advanced another few paces—then froze. As it drew closer, it seemed to pause, studying Astar. A strange silence hung between them, broken only by the faint crackling of the smoke escaping its mouth.

  The air grew heavy with tension. Astar’s muscles were taut, the spear steady in his grasp. But the monster didn’t strike.

  “Why isn’t it attacking?” the thought nagged at him.

  The gorilla blinked, its pupils shifting erratically, as though analyzing its surroundings. It twitched, growling low, but didn’t charge. Instead, it tilted its head to the side, as if struggling to comprehend what it saw.

  “It’s uncertain… But why?” Astar felt the abyssia within him stir again, as though sensing the threat.

  The creature moved once more, taking a slow step closer. Now it began circling him, never breaking eye contact. Its massive jaw parted, revealing blood-slicked teeth that still dripped with gore. But still, the monster hesitated.

  “Because of the abyssia… It thinks I’m one of them,” the realization struck Astar like a lightning bolt.

  The feeling that he was no longer just human—but something else, something cursed—washed over him. Not long ago, the thought had terrified him. But now… it gave him hope.

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  But it didn’t last long.

  Raaaar! The gorilla suddenly let out a piercing roar, shattering the forest silence. Its mouth yawned wide, spewing clouds of black smoke that whirled through the air like a living storm. The sound was so powerful it felt as though the earth itself trembled.

  “She figured it out… I’m not one of them,” Astar muttered through clenched teeth.

  The monster suddenly dropped to its front limbs and charged, its movements so fast it was as if a raging bull had launched itself at Astar.

  He barely had time to raise his spear, bracing for the first blow…

  But the gorilla was upon him before he could even blink. Its massive arms, studded with jagged bone shards, swung through the air in a wide arc. Astar tried to block the strike with his spear, but his inexperience betrayed him. The shaft slipped to the side, unable to absorb the full force of the attack.

  Boom! Two colossal limbs slammed into his chest with terrifying power. Astar felt the air ripped from his lungs as his body was lifted off the ground. Pain shot through his ribcage, the world dissolving into a blinding white roar.

  "Gha!" he gasped, feeling the earth vanish beneath him.

  Shuuv! Boom! His body flew across the lake like a cannonball. Cold spray splashed his face as he sailed over the water’s surface—then his back smashed into the trunk of an enormous tree with a sickening crack.

  "Ugh…" Astar groaned, sliding down the bark, leaving a deep dent behind.

  His spear slipped from his hand, and he doubled over in pain, struggling to breathe. The world spun around him, his ears rang, and everything blurred. He could barely focus as dull pain throbbed through every part of him.

  The gorilla let out a low growl, its hulking shape looming on the opposite shore. It stood there, seemingly assessing the result of its strike, its smoldering mouth parting to reveal rows of fangs still wet with blood.

  Astar, panting, raised a trembling hand and spat out the warm, metallic taste of blood. He crawled away from the tree, each movement sending sharp jolts of pain through his body. Yet the ringing in his ears faded faster than it should have, and the haze in his vision cleared at an unnatural pace.

  He froze. His gaze dropped to his chest—where just a moment ago, he was certain his ribs had been crushed. His hands clutched at his sides in disbelief.

  “What the… hell…” he whispered, still dazed, before his voice cracked into a shout. “I’m alive?!”

  His fingers ran over his ribcage, searching for breaks. Despite the force of the impact, nothing felt broken. His body ached fiercely, but not with the kind of pain that came from internal damage or shattered bones.

  “How is that possible?!” he shouted, lifting his gaze toward the gorilla, who was still watching him from across the lake, its breath ragged.

  A sharp dissonance tore through his thoughts. He knew that a hit like that—on Earth—would’ve killed him instantly, would’ve shattered his skeleton like porcelain. It was like being struck by a speeding car. Back then, death would’ve been inevitable. But now…

  “Physical resilience scales with power… makes sense…” he muttered, pressing his chest. He could have sworn his insides had been pulped—but instead, here he was, breathing, standing, not even critically wounded.

  Still gasping, Astar looked down at his hands. The abyssia pulsed within him again, slowly spreading through his body, filling every cell.

  “In that case,” he murmured, wiping blood from his chin, “there’s no need to be that afraid…”

  The realization was both terrifying and exhilarating. He had survived something no ordinary human could. His body no longer followed the rules of the world he’d once known.

  But there was no time to dwell on it. The gorilla let out a piercing roar, its bone-studded arms flailing. It was preparing to charge again—and this time, it wouldn’t give him a second chance.

  Astar clenched his teeth, his eyes darting to the spear lying nearby. He lunged for it, snatching it up with renewed purpose.

  He straightened, ignoring the pain still radiating through his body. Something had changed inside him. The fear that had gripped him moments ago was beginning to fade. And this wasn’t the usual forced bravery—this was different. As if his very instincts were being rewritten. As if something dormant inside him had begun to stir.

  “I can fight…” the thought raced through his mind. “This damned gorilla won’t kill me!”

  The idea, so simple and rational, didn’t sound like calm reasoning. It sounded like a call—something deep and primal rising from within. The abyssia coursing through him didn’t just power his limbs. It seemed to affect his very mind, his very will.

  “Besides… the Corruption Devouring Technique requires abyssia,” he muttered, a strange, foreign feeling rising in his chest. “Along with food and water, I need abyssal cores…”

  It wasn’t rage. It wasn’t bloodlust. It was something calmer. Colder. But solid. His mind was beginning to adapt to this new reality—just as the body adjusts to a new climate.

  The gorilla roared again, its hulking form tensing for a charge. Smoke coiled from its mouth in thick spirals, forming a menacing halo around it. But Astar now looked at it differently. His gaze held a strange, almost tranquil focus.

  "Not long ago, I skewered an abyssal that was just as strong as this gorilla… and back then, I hadn’t even activated my technique… On top of that, my body still held memoria, not abyssia," Astar suddenly realized. "If that’s the case, defending against this brute shouldn’t be a problem..."

  His body, burning with adrenaline, seemed to know what to do on its own. The abyssia in his veins began to dictate the rhythm of his movements, and in that moment, Astar understood — he was ready not just to defend, but to strike.

  Dum-dum! The gorilla burst forward, its feet pounding the ground like war drums as it thundered around the lake. It was as if the very earth recoiled beneath its weight. But Astar didn’t move. He waited, letting the strength of his new body take over. His breathing slowed, deep and steady.

  "Let’s try that again…" he murmured as her smoking silhouette barreled closer.

  The gorilla charged straight at him, her massive form shaking the ground with every step. Black smoke poured from her gaping jaws like poisonous fog. She was more terrifying than any beast Astar had seen on Earth, but strangely, he felt no fear.

  He gripped the spear tightly, focusing all his strength and will. The abyssia surged through him, reinforcing every muscle and nerve. His body tensed as he raised the spear, his mind cold and calculating.

  When the gorilla entered throwing range, he jerked the spear back. Every fiber of his being screamed one thing: “Strike now!”

  "Die!" Astar roared, hurling the weapon with all his might.

  Shuuv! The spear tore from his hand with a sharp whistle, slicing through the air. It moved so fast it left a faint trail, still misted with blood from the last kill.

  Paff! The gorilla’s skull exploded as the spear punched clean through. A deafening crash followed, blood and gore spraying in every direction.

  Everything fell silent… The smoke curling from her jaw stopped instantly.

  Her massive body froze — and then collapsed to the ground with a dull, final thud:

  Ba-bam…

  Astar stood, panting, watching the dust rise from the fallen abyssal. Even this monstrous creature, which had seemed invincible, couldn’t withstand the force of his strike.

  “…Damn,” he muttered, feeling the tension drain from his muscles.

  But something inside him had changed. As he stared at the aftermath, he realized that with each passing moment, his fear was fading — replaced by a growing confidence. This world, so full of deadly threats, no longer felt so impossible to face. In fact… he was beginning to enjoy this feeling. Like he’d returned to something familiar — something he was meant for.

  "Where does my power end now? If I killed a creature at the Premarch stage so easily… Could I take on a Gray Mnemarch?" he wondered aloud, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

  He didn’t even notice the subtle shift in his mindset — as if, by returning to this world, he was reclaiming something that had always been missing on Earth. Or maybe… he was only now discovering it.

  But then Astar cursed sharply, realizing his weapon had flown somewhere deep into the forest.

  "Goddamn it!" he barked. "My spear!"

  He wiped sweat and blood from his face and glanced toward the trees where it had vanished.

  For a moment, he stood frozen, overwhelmed by a strange feeling of closeness. The weapon, plain at first glance, had become something more than just a tool of survival. It was his first real weapon in this world — a symbol of the power he was only beginning to grasp.

  “I can’t lose it,” the thought struck him.

  Without hesitation, Astar bolted into the forest after it, leaping over roots and weaving between trees. With each step, his breathing grew steadier. His body seemed to know exactly where to go, and only one thought pulsed through his mind: “Find the spear.”

  He felt an odd sense of connection to it — like it had become a companion. It made no logical sense, but he’d already learned that many things in this world defied logic.

  "I’m not letting you get lost in this forest," he muttered, scanning the undergrowth.

  And then, just ahead, something familiar glinted in the brush. The spear had lodged itself in a tree behind a thicket, buried halfway into the trunk.

  "There you are."

  Astar quickly approached the spear, grabbed the shaft with both hands, and yanked it out of the tree with effort. The metal glinted in the sunlight, and he let out a relieved breath.

  "You did your job well, buddy," he muttered, inspecting the tip. Despite the impact and destruction it had caused, the spear remained in perfect condition.

  Wasting no time, he immediately turned and ran back toward the lake. Each step echoed with a dull ache through his body. Apparently, the gorilla had managed to injure him after all—and it became painfully clear now that the adrenaline had faded and the abyssia had returned to his Soul Vault.

  "I didn’t hunt it just for sport," he said. "I need to salvage anything useful."

  When he returned, the lake was still calm, though streaks of the gorilla’s blood now darkened its surface. The strange fish circling near the top of the water seemed disturbed by the scent, avoiding the spreading blotch entirely.

  Astar headed straight for the dead body of the abyssal. It lay motionless on the ground, massive and still. Its smoking aura had already dissipated.

  "Alright, this is going to be disgusting… but there’s no choice," he muttered, wrinkling his nose.

  He gripped the spear tighter and began cutting into the gorilla’s flesh. The skin was thick and rubbery, tearing apart with a wet, squelching noise. The spear, despite its crude appearance, cut through with surprising ease—its edge responding well to the strength Astar now possessed.

  His hands were soon covered in blood and slime. The stench of the corpse grew stronger with every movement, making him grimace. The creature didn’t smell like a normal animal—its innards reeked of rot and something acidic.

  "The core should be in the chest, right?" he muttered, digging deeper into the tissue.

  Chwak! Crunch! A few more strokes, and his effort was rewarded. Beneath layers of muscle and bone, he finally felt a smooth, solid surface. The core. It glimmered with a dim black light, encased in a blood-slick membrane. It was smaller than the one he’d taken from the skeleton in the cave.

  "Got it," Astar exhaled, pulling it free. He quickly cleaned off the chunks of flesh and held it up.

  The abyssia inside him stirred in response, pulsing softly as soon as his fingers touched the core. This was more than a trophy. It was another source of fuel—just like food.

  "I won’t rush into absorbing you… I need to see how long I can last without abyssia," he muttered, wrapping the core in a scrap of clothing.

  Now that the fight was over, Astar noticed that the vortex of abyssia within his Soul Vault had shrunk slightly but was slowly beginning to replenish. The process was slow—but noticeable.

  Seeing the pattern, he reasoned it would be wise not to let himself hit empty during battle. That could have consequences he wasn’t ready for.

  "When I get back to the cave, I’ll try draining all the abyssia. If the curse doesn’t start right away, that’s a good sign… Then I’ll need to figure out exactly how long I can go without absorbing it from cursed items."

  Astar dragged the gorilla’s carcass away from the lake, not wanting its blood to contaminate the water. From the smell and texture, he figured the flesh of an abyssal was toxic. The body was enormous, but with his new strength, the task was manageable.

  "Rot here," he muttered, casting one last glance at the gorilla.

  Then he turned toward the carcass of the strange “cow.” Despite its bizarre appearance, it looked far less revolting than the gorilla. Astar grabbed one of its hooves and began dragging the body behind him.

  "Come on, you’re coming with me," he said, as if speaking to the creature, then chuckled. "I feel like a caveman. Just need a stone axe and a fur cloak now."

  "Though in these rags, I’m not far off…" he added with a dry smirk.

  The carcass was heavy, but for the current Astar, it wasn’t much trouble. His muscles worked with precise coordination, as if guided by an unseen force.

  Following the notches he’d carved earlier, he moved confidently through the forest. The air still carried that same damp, earthy scent mixed with the strange aroma of alien flora, but he no longer felt as helpless as he had before. Each carved mark in the trees had become a symbol—a reminder that he had a plan, a path, and some control over what was happening.

  "Good thing I made these," he muttered, spotting another notch in the bark.

  The forest whispered in its unfamiliar sounds, but Astar pushed forward, gripping the beast’s hoof. Somewhere inside, a sense of satisfaction stirred: he’d found food, he’d survived, he’d grown stronger.

  When the cave entrance finally appeared up ahead, he exhaled in relief and threw a quick glance at the sun already dipping toward the horizon. Time was passing, and he was starting to adapt to his new reality.

  "Gonna need something to store water… and firewood," he muttered, dragging the carcass into the cave.

  Astar dragged the “cow’s” carcass off to the side, then quickly scanned the cave. The piles of bones scattered all around reminded him that this place had once teemed with life… though death would be a more accurate word.

  “I didn’t think about this before… But if I found rags and a spear, then there must be something for water too,” he said to himself, beginning to rummage through the debris.

  He started pushing aside bones and shredded clothing with the spear, most of it already crumbling to dust. The stench rising from the mess was awful, but Astar forced himself to ignore it.

  It took nearly twenty minutes before his efforts paid off. Among the debris, he found three intact waterskins. Judging by their condition, they had belonged to the poor souls who once fell to the abyssal here.

  “Exactly what I needed,” he muttered, inspecting the finds. The skins looked worn, but still usable.

  Wasting no time, Astar hurried to the lake. He rinsed the waterskins thoroughly, scrubbing off the dust and grime, then filled them with clean water from the far side of the lake—away from the blood that had seeped into the other end. Droplets trickled down his arms, and the lake's surface began to recover its crystal clarity.

  “That’ll last me a while,” he said to himself, tying each waterskin shut and tucking them neatly into a makeshift pouch fashioned from a piece of cloak.

  Returning to the cave, he already knew his next task.

  “Now for firewood,” he said, wiping his hands on his rags.

  He stepped back into the forest. This time, his objective was clear: find wood suitable for a campfire. But it turned out to be simpler than expected—he dragged back the trunk of a dry tree and broke it apart with his bare hands right inside the cave.

  “Maybe I really am turning into a caveman,” Astar smirked, arranging the chunks into a small pyramid.

  Earlier, he had also found a piece of armor that resembled a chestplate. It had a shallow depression, and Astar figured he could try boiling water in it—or use it as a makeshift frying pan. At this point, nothing surprised or disgusted him anymore. So much had happened in recent months that even his gag reflex seemed to be fading.

  The sun dipped slowly toward the horizon, painting the sky in hues of crimson and gold. The forest cooled, and the shadows of the trees stretched long, filling the world with a strange, mystical quiet. Astar, sitting at the cave’s entrance, carefully ground a chunk of wood into fine shavings. His fingers worked with surprising precision, and his mind remained focused.

  “All that matters is that it burns,” he muttered, placing the tinder at the center of the wooden pyramid.

  He wiped sweat from his brow. The hardest task still lay ahead: making fire. He’d seen the trick in online videos, but in practice, it was nothing like how easy it looked on screen.

  Astar spent nearly two hours searching for the right stones, combing both the cave and the surrounding forest. He started striking them together, hoping for a spark. But no matter how hard he tried, the stones only clacked dully against one another, coating his hands in dust.

  “Damn it!” he shouted, angrily throwing one of the rocks aside—only to pick it back up immediately. “Wait… this one looks right. Just need to find another like it…”

  Only after scouring the inner caves—the same ones he had stumbled into while fleeing the abyssal—did luck finally favor him. He found a matching stone, and though sparks eventually came, getting a fire to catch was no easy feat.

  He kept at it, adjusting the angle and force of each strike, until finally, one attempt succeeded. A tiny spark, as faint as a breath, flickered from the stone and didn’t vanish. Astar leaned in instantly, waving gently over the tinder, and moments later, the welcome scent of smoke hit his nose.

  “There we go!” he exhaled, watching with immense relief as the fire began to slowly take hold. Mimicking what he’d seen in videos, he carefully blew to feed the flame.

  Gradually, he added more shavings, until the flame stabilized. Tucking it into the heart of the pyramid, he watched—and a minute later, the cave’s growing darkness was pierced by its first steady glow.

  Astar’s face lit up with a smile—something between victory and disbelief.

  “This actually works!” he cried out, throwing his arms up like he’d just struck the deal of a lifetime.

  He sat beside the fire, stretching his hands toward its warmth, which quickly spread through his body. It was a small but essential step toward survival. Now he had not just light, but a means to cook food and purify water.

  Watching the dancing flames, he felt an odd sense of satisfaction. In this new world, every small success felt like a triumph—proof that he could adapt, that he could win.

  “I’m starving and thirsty, kha-ha…” he cackled hoarsely, drooling as he glanced toward the beast’s carcass.

  Wasting no time, Astar quickly got to his feet and approached the carcass of the strange beast. Hunger and exhaustion gnawed at him, but both were pushed aside by a single, overwhelming thought: “I need to eat!”

  He grabbed his spear and sliced off a thick chunk of meat, something like a steak. He even made an effort to remove the tendons and skin. The flesh was dense, but his strength made the task easy, even effortless.

  “Let’s hope you’re edible,” he muttered, wincing slightly at the thought of eating meat from a creature that had tentacles instead of a mouth.

  Returning to the fire, Astar simply tossed the meat directly into the embers. His energy was nearly gone, and he had no intention of being delicate about it. As the meat began to sizzle, giving off a strange but not unpleasant aroma, he took the metal plate he’d found earlier among the bones and poured a bit of water from his waterskin into the shallow indentation.

  “Well… good enough,” he muttered, setting the plate atop some stones by the edge of the fire. He had deliberately arranged the stones to serve as a makeshift stand.

  Time crept by, but soon the meat began to form a crisp, appetizing crust, and the water in the plate reached a rolling boil, releasing faint wisps of steam. Astar waited patiently for everything to be ready.

  “I’d sell my soul for some spices… or even just regular salt,” he smirked, watching the process. “Then again, I’m about to eat meat! Meat—not that tasteless slop from the mines!”

  When he felt the meat was well-cooked, Astar used two bones to carefully pull the piece from the coals. He brushed off the ash, the hot steam rising and stinging his face. Then, using the same bones as makeshift tongs, he lifted the metal plate and set it aside to cool.

  He sat by the fire, holding the still-hot meat in one hand. The moment felt almost surreal.

  “Yeah, Astar, this is life now,” he chuckled, taking the first bite.

  “Oh god…” he breathed in disbelief. The taste was simple, even bland, but it was the best thing he’d eaten in this world.

  Every bite felt like a reward for all he’d endured, and the hot water—flavorless though it was—offered a fleeting echo of normalcy. As strange as it sounded, Astar felt like things were starting to look up. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt something like the freedom he’d always longed for.

  “What a beautiful feeling,” he said with a smile, glancing over at the water, waiting for it to cool.