Excerpt 18

  (Page 2, Section 1)

  The horrors of the forest are endless, a shifting tapestry of unseen teeth and whispered death. Beneath the ancient canopy, where even the light struggles to survive, no creature holds dominion for long. Predator and prey exchange roles with little warning, for in this place, the hunter may become the hunted in the span of a single breath. A glimmer of weakness, a flash of movement, a tempting glimpse of prey—it could all be a snare, set by something older and more patient than you will ever be.

  When you set out to hunt, carve your escape before you ever make your strike. Move with the certainty that unseen eyes are always watching—because they are. Step with the knowledge that every root may rise to ensnare you, that every rustle of leaf and branch may whisper your place to something waiting just beyond your sight. When you pursue your quarry, leave many paths branching behind you, for when the time comes to flee, you must flee not in confusion but with the wisdom of forethought—or you will not flee at all.

  Mark this well: you are granted but a single, fragile thread of life, and the forest hungers for it. One misstep—one lapse of caution, one failure to prepare—and the trees themselves may drink of your blood before you even realize you have been claimed. Every heartbeat spent in arrogance, every breath taken without vigilance, draws you closer to an end so swift and final that not even your bones will remain to tell your story.

  Never forget: the forest lives.

  It harbors no mercy.

  It carries no memory but that of your last breath.

  And it watches, ever patient, ever hungry.

  Source: The Price of a Misstep – Jagric the Bloodhunter

  Excerpt 18 End

  Hassan moved carefully through the Darkened Woods, testing the limits of his new strength. Every muscle in his body felt denser, packed with a raw power that hadn’t been there before. His steps were heavier but more controlled; his balance sharper. It was intoxicating, feeling the difference—but also dangerous. Power whispered the lie of invincibility.

  He wasn’t foolish enough to believe it.

  The forest had already taught him painful lessons. No matter how strong he became, there would always be something lurking in the shadows, hungrier, deadlier. He had decided long before stepping into the woods again that once night fell, he would retreat to the grassy plains. Whatever roamed here after dark was not something he intended to meet unprepared.

  Still, he couldn’t help but marvel. His reaction speed had improved tremendously—he could focus during movement, track sounds, and react faster than before. He suspected this edge was the real reason he survived the vines last time, not luck alone.

  He paused, scanning the world around him.

  The vines sprawled across the forest like silent traps, hanging from branches and coiling around roots. His instincts told him they could awaken at any moment, lash out and consume him.

  But Hassan forced himself to breathe, to think. He had tested them carefully before. Unless harmed or provoked—and unless night had truly fallen—they would likely remain dormant.

  Even when he reentered the system space this time, there had been no hungry vines lying in wait. The quiet was almost unsettling.

  Lost in thought, Hassan barely caught the sound at first—a faint rustle behind him.

  He turned sharply.

  Nothing. Just the endless creaking of ancient trees.

  Shrugging it off, he turned away—only for the sound to come again, louder and closer.

  Adrenaline surged. Slowly, he backed away, keeping his eyes locked on the darkened forest, heart hammering against his ribs.

  The disturbance stirred again—and finally revealed itself.

  From the undergrowth slithered a nightmare: a monstrous lizard-like creature, nearly invisible against the ground thanks to its chameleon-like skin. It moved with eerie grace on eight spiderlike legs, its three muscular tails flicking behind it. Its elongated jaws parted, revealing a slithering, forked tongue that tasted the air between them.

  Its sheer size was staggering—towering nearly twice his height and stretching so long that its tail faded behind the tree out of his sight.

  Cold sweat trickled down Hassan’s back.

  There was no decision to be made. His body acted on its own.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Run.

  Without hesitation, Hassan sprinted down the escape path he had prepared earlier—an escape route crafted carefully beneath low trees and winding roots, a path designed to evade not just ground predators but creatures that could strike from above.

  His newfound agility proved its worth. He leapt over roots, ducked under low branches, and dodged between trunks with a precision that amazed even himself. His stamina, too, seemed endless. His lungs burned, but his legs never faltered.

  For a heartbeat, he dared to believe he might truly escape.

  Until he heard it.

  A sharp, unnatural rustle above him.

  He glanced upward—and froze in terror.

  The creature had scaled the trees with its many legs and now poised itself high above, ready to pounce.

  Hassan forced himself into a sudden halt, mind flashing cold and clear. He waited, muscles coiled tight—and just as the beast lunged downward, he threw himself backward, narrowly avoiding the devastating strike.

  The monster crashed into the ground with a thunderous impact, tearing up roots and soil in a cloud of debris.

  Without hesitation, Hassan darted toward a thick bush nearby. He remembered too well how a careless scrape with the thorned underbrush had once ended him in an instant. But this time, he used the bush to his advantage.

  The creature paused, glaring at him from a distance, its camouflaged body rippling with barely-contained tension.

  Hassan crouched low, heart pounding.

  Really? Couldn’t it find easier prey?

  But as he looked around, realization settled in his gut like a stone.

  He hadn't seen any other creatures nearby—only a deadly bird and a strange rabbit-like beast during his previous travels.

  The forest was a barren killing field. Anything left was either a hunter—or prey too stubborn to die.

  Maybe, if he stayed hidden long enough, it would lose interest.

  Minutes dragged by like hours. Hassan kept his breathing shallow, every muscle tense and ready.

  At first, it seemed to work.

  Then the creature shifted, creeping toward him with slow, deliberate steps.

  Panic surged up his spine. There was no way he could flee now. And activating the system’s exit would take far too long—he'd be dead before the process completed.

  He had to act.

  Scanning the bush desperately, he spotted a branch with only a few thorns. Without thinking, he yanked very hard and ripped it free, gripping it tightly.

  As soon as he raised the branch, something strange happened.

  The creature froze mid-step. Its eyes widened as if stunned.

  Then, faster than he thought possible, it spun around and sprinted back into the forest, vanishing into the trees in the distance.

  Hassan stared in disbelief, still holding the branch like a sword.

  Well... that worked better than expected.

  Cautiously, he placed the makeshift weapon down and slumped against the nearest tree, taking deep, steadying breaths. His mind whirled. He had survived—again—but the cost of survival here was growing steeper with every encounter.

  This place is too dangerous, he thought grimly. I need a better plan if I want to stay alive.

  Thinking it over, Hassan made a decision. He would stay closer to the edge of the forest, near the grassy plains. This way, if danger came, he could react quickly and escape into the open fields.

  He hadn’t seen anything there besides delroaches, and while they were annoying, they were predictable—and easier to deal with. In the plains, he could regroup, plan, and prepare for whatever came next.

  While he was still piecing together his strategy, another noise reached his ears.

  Soft. Swift. But unmistakable.

  He turned, body tense—and spotted it.

  A slithering form shot out from the nearby bush—a creature that looked like a large branch come to life, a branch snake twisting toward him with deadly speed.

  Instinct screamed. Hassan spun around and ran, heart pounding.

  A quick glance over his shoulder made his blood run cold—the snake had already leapt into the air, closing the distance with terrifying speed.

  Time seemed to slow.

  Driven by reflex more than thought, Hassan twisted and caught the snake’s head mid-air. Its body immediately coiled around him, squeezing with surprising strength, trying to pry itself free.

  Panic threatened to take hold—but Hassan fought it down.

  He scanned the ground frantically—and spotted a rock.

  Without letting go of the thrashing serpent, he staggered over to the rock and began smashing the creature’s head against it.

  Again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Each impact jarred his arms, but he didn’t stop until the snake’s grip slackened and its movements went still.

  He let the creature fall, breathing heavily. The snake’s head was nothing more than a pulped mass.

  For a long moment, he simply stood there, heart hammering, body trembling from effort—and victory.

  And then, a familiar shimmer crossed his vision:

  #####

  Tutorial Quest: Survival of the Fittest (I)

  Information: You have entered the Darkened Woods, a shadow-drenched forest where venomous flora and apex predators cull the careless. Only those who can outwit, outrun, or outlast their rivals endure.

  Objective: Survive 10 consecutive days within the forest, while personally hunting at least three secondary consumers—or higher—each day. (0/10) (1/3)

  Reward: Basic Hunter Manual

  #####

  Hassan’s lips curled into a faint, weary smile.

  It was far from the end of his trials—but seeing the quest counter tick upward filled him with a rare sense of triumph.

  One victory. However small.

  He tightened his fists, feeling the slight tremble still lingering in his arms.

  As the tension drained from his body, Hassan let himself sit and think, piecing the encounter together.

  It hadn’t been chance that drove the monster away. It had been the branch.

  The creature had recognized it.

  The bushes growing here weren’t ordinary. He remembered too well how a single scratch from one had killed him when he first stumbled into the forest. The thorns carried something lethal—something even the apex predators avoided.

  The monster hadn’t fled from him.

  It had fled from the weapon he unknowingly wielded.

  A weapon hidden in plain sight.

  A slow, grim determination settled in his chest. If even the horrors of this place feared the thornbushes, then he could use them—craft tools, build traps, anything that tilted the balance of survival in his favor.

  Strength alone wouldn’t save him here.

  But knowledge might.

  Pushing himself to his feet, Hassan looked down at the branch, thorns faintly glistening along its length. He would need a way to handle it safely, a way to turn this deadly gift into something more than a last-ditch defense.

  Next time, it wouldn’t be him running.

  It would be them.