Beneath the shadow of a large, lush tree, Eryon sat cross-legged, his body calm but focused. Around him lay scattered bark fragments, dry twigs, and several thick branches carefully arranged into an inverted cone—the basic structure of a campfire, drawn from memories of Earth.
Not far from where he sat, a cleaned fish rested atop a broad leaf. Its gleaming scales were piled to the side, and fresh flesh shimmered under the soft glow of dusk.
Eryon reached for two dry sticks: one long and one flat. With quick, rhythmic motions, he began rubbing the pointed end against the surface of the flat stick in a circular pattern. The sound of wood scraping echoed faintly, blending with his increasingly labored breaths. Sweat dripped from his chin, falling to the ground in a steady rhythm, like the ticking of time.
Minutes passed.
Thin smoke began to rise from the bundle of bark fibers he had shaped like a nest. He leaned down and blew gently—measured and patient. The smoke thickened, and finally, a flicker of red flame emerged—weak, fragile, but alive.
His eyes narrowed. He extended his hand.
A golden light enveloped his palm, and immediately, a system notification hovered in the air like a transparent hologram:
[Essence Reap: Success]
[You have acquired Tier-F skill: Controlled Combustion]
[Description:
Allows the user to ignite and manage simple fires efficiently and stably. Ideal for cooking, heating, or making fire in extreme environments]
Eryon raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. Just by starting a fire… he'd obtained a skill?
It puzzled him—sometimes the effect was temporary, sometimes permanent, and now, a new skill... He wondered if this was some kind of gacha system or something.
And this skill—it wasn't for combat, but its practical value, especially in a wild world like this, was immeasurable.
He snapped his fingers toward the bigger logs that hadn't caught fire yet. The sound was sharp—like clicking on a lighter. Right away, the small flame responded, moving forward like a calm, trained animal. It touched the dry wood and quickly grew into a steady fire—warm, clean, and quiet, with no loud crackles or thick smoke.
It was almost like his hand was a matchstick—one snap, and fire answered. Not wild or dangerous, but controlled, precise. Like the flame knew who it belonged to.
"Now we're talking," he muttered, grabbing a piece of fish, skewering it with a stick, and holding it over the fire.
A savory aroma quickly filled the air, mingling with the humid night breeze. There were no flying embers, no stinging smoke. The fire felt like an extension of his will—obedient, efficient, and clean.
He ate the fish slowly. The taste… was fresh. More flavorful than any fish he'd had on Earth. Perhaps because this world had no pollution, no human interference in the food chain.
After a few bites, his gaze lifted to the sky.
Stars were scattered across the heavens like crystal dust. A galaxy stretched across it clearly—a spiral of violet and blue, so vivid it didn't feel like a computer simulation. He fell silent, staring upward as if searching for something.
What awaited him after this beginner's trial? A bigger world? A civilization far more advanced... or perhaps more ancient?
Or maybe all this was just the first stage—a filter to decide who was fit to survive something far greater than he could imagine.
That question had haunted him since arriving in this world.
But one thing was certain: he was no ordinary person.
He carried an SSS-class talent—rare, dangerous, and without a doubt… watched.
And if this world functioned like a system… then he wasn't just a pawn.
He might be a special piece.
Or even, the main player.
---
An hour had passed since Eryon had left his resting spot. His belly was full, his body light, and now he was walking again, making his way through the forest back toward the village. Before him, a softly glowing holographic map hovered—guiding him along the correct path.
As he walked, he opened the [chat] panel—a scrolling feed of messages that moved nonstop.
[...when will I get lucky like him?]
[Hey, you've gotta explore every inch of this forest if you want to trigger quests. My friend and I just finished one, and trust me… this world's gonna turn into hell. Even close friends can stab you in the back. Good thing I stabbed him first.]
[What happened?]
[We got a 'Necklace of Diversity' after completing a quest. There was only one. He got greedy and tried to kill me for it. Luckily, I killed him first]
[Man, this world's as fucked up as Earth. I'm outta here]
[That's messed up...]
[They still...]
Eryon raised an eyebrow. Even reading the chat could offer lessons. Betrayal. Something he'd tasted back in college—when trust was repaid with a knife in the back.
And now, in a world far more savage, more brutal, and governed by a system that responded to everything... trust was the most fragile currency.
At that moment, his steps halted.
His nose caught something—sharp, acrid. A mix of blood, metal... and a stench too strange to name.
He frowned, turning northward, where the smell was strongest. His steps became slower, more cautious. Moonlight filtered through the canopy above, dim but enough to light the way.
The closer he got, the stronger the smell. Then—sound. Screams. Clashing metal. The ringing of combat.
Eryon lowered his body, crept forward, and peered from behind a massive tree trunk.
In the distance, four people were locked in a desperate battle against a giant snake—nearly thirty meters long, with a bloated body as if it had recently devoured something larger than a human. Its scales were black, gleaming like wet obsidian.
Clank!
One man, muscular and stone-faced—likely in his early thirties—was thrown backward after his sword clashed with the creature's fangs. He nearly fell, but his effort wasn't in vain. Seeing the snake stunned and sprawled on the ground, jaws wide open, he planted his feet and shouted, "Your turn, Leon!"
Another young man—his face sharp, determined, in his mid-twenties—charged forward toward the snake's head. His hair was messy, eyes burning with focus.
Without hesitation, he clenched his fist and stepped forward. "HIKENN!"
His punch flew, and with it, a burst of blue fire formed into a massive flaming strike. It slammed into the snake's head, entering its gaping mouth and igniting its insides. Scales and flesh burned instantly. The serpent thrashed violently, hissing and flailing its tail through the air.
Two of their companions didn't dodge in time—they were thrown back, rolling across the ground from the impact.
But the fire didn't go out.
The snake kept flailing, but its movements grew sluggish. The blue flames had reached deep inside, consuming its organs, and finally, the beast collapsed.
Silence.
Then, the calm, definitive voice of the system:
[Quest 'Serpent of Forest' completed. Congratulations]
[EXP has been distributed based on contribution]
[6 Serpent's Scale have dropped as completion rewards]
[Description: Scales tougher than steel. Can be used to craft armor or weapons]
Six gleaming red scales appeared on the ground, each the size of a palm. They radiated a subtle heat, like volcanic stone.
"Wohooo! Serpent's scales! And I got 30 exp!" one of them shouted, clearly thrilled.
"I only got 20... but hey, still worth it," another replied.
But on the other side, Leon stood still, his eyes locked on a private notification hovering in front of him.
[Congratulations, you've reached Level 4]
[+2 to all attributes]
Level 4.
Leon grinned, gazing at the number like the world had just acknowledged his existence. With a casual flick of his hand, he swiped the hologram aside and glanced around—his friends were panting, bloodied and bruised. Meanwhile, he? He hadn't even broken a sweat.
"This is sick," he muttered, almost mockingly. "If I keep going like this, maybe this world should raise its level cap."
His smile spread—cold, confident, not from kindness but from certainty.
While others were still busy crying over how harsh this world was, he had already drawn his blade and carved his path. This world might be cruel, but it was fair—it rewarded those who knew how to dominate it.
To him, this wasn't just a trial.
It was natural selection. And Leon, from the very start, had been born to survive. To conquer.
Legends aren't born from luck.
They're forged by those insane enough to believe the world should kneel at their steps.