The harder he crawled upward, the brighter his vision became—like someone desperately reaching for the light of life again.
His eyes, which had been shut in darkness, slowly opened. The light was real now. Sunlight slipped through the cracks of the leaves above, falling directly onto his eyes.
But then, the pain in his right hand returned. He glanced at the wound and gripped it again, noticing how the cloth had grown darker, soaked with blood. The bleeding was severe, and the longer it went on, the weaker and more numb his arm felt.
The adventurer had escaped the edge of death and regained his consciousness, but what was he supposed to do next?
He drew in a long breath, trying to calm the erratic pounding of his heart. Rest had given him a sliver of strength, enough to think he might be able to move his body again.
He could sense night drawing near. The wind picked up, sharper and faster, while the birdsong faded away. Still, the sun had yet to fully vanish.
The adventurer knew he had to find shelter—somewhere safe. The forest was far too dangerous after dark, filled with prowling beasts like wolves and bears. Staying here was not an option.
With grim resolve, he reached for his silver sword lying on the ground. Planting its tip into the soil, he used it to support his weight. His left hand gripped the hilt tightly as his whole body trembled, forcing out what little strength he had left.
Slowly but steadily, the adventurer pushed himself upright. The pain in his right arm was suffocating, like fire searing his flesh, but he endured it. There was no time to dwell on pain.
Adrenaline surged through him, driving his body against the agony. His muscles screamed, but at last, with nearly crippling effort, he managed to stand tall.
He leaned against a tree, catching his breath. His legs shook uncontrollably, but he no longer yielded to the ground.
Breathing heavily, each inhale and exhale was rough, yet enough to remind him he had fought this far.
The fading sun was a reminder that time was slipping away. He couldn't stay here. With his body still half-supported by the sword, he prepared to move.
He lifted his foot—one slow step.
Safe. Though his body shook violently, with the sword in his left hand, he was able to steady himself.
The second step came with hesitation. He drew in a deep breath, steadying his nerves. Uneasy, but determined.
Then, another step.
Tap… the sound of his second footfall.
He had done it!
But reality crept back in. At this pace, how long would it take to reach safety? Night was falling fast, and darkness was already waiting.
Still, confidence began to grow within him. Each step felt easier than the last.
His determination flared. Lifting his third step with resolve—
Tap… the third step succeeded.
With the spirit burning inside him, walking no longer seemed impossible.
He braced for the fourth step, quicker and more assured.
The adventurer even smiled. Perhaps he truly could find shelter—maybe a cave, or a hollow beneath a great tree.
But his joy clouded his caution.
As his fourth step landed, the tip of his sword slipped against a hidden stone on the ground.
His balance gave way. His body toppled backward, spine slamming against a tree trunk, his head snapping against it with a sickening crack.
Thud!
His vision spun. The world blurred into a haze of fireflies flickering before his eyes.
Dizziness crashed over him like waves, relentless and suffocating. Pain engulfed him once more, spreading from his wounded arm.
This time, his leg throbbed with sharp agony. He tried to move it—but nothing. With trembling hands, he looked down.
It was sprained.
The swelling was already visible, the ankle reddened and inflamed.
He exhaled heavily, a bitter regret twisting inside him. His sword lay on the ground once again, unmoved, as if mocking him for returning to the same point where he had started.
"…What a fool I am," he muttered.
He leaned back against the same tree where he had first rested. After all his struggle, he hadn't moved an inch from that spot.
The adventurer tilted his head upward, staring at the sky. Time dragged endlessly. Stars now glimmered above, though faint traces of sunlight still lingered.
But the fading light seemed to mirror his fading will.
With ragged breaths, he struck the trunk behind him. Frustration erupted, no longer containable.
"I was so close… so close to surviving—why!!!"
There was no hope left.
It was over. There was nothing more he could do.
"God…" he whispered, voice breaking with sorrow. "Why did you give me hope… if this was how it ends?"
The tears he had held back burst free. His cheeks were wet with grief he could no longer suppress.
He bowed his head, body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. His fists clenched tight, trembling.
All this time he had resisted crying, fearing it would weaken his spirit.
But now, it was finished.
Tears dripped into his weakening hands.
"I… I'm such a fool… hic… so naïve, so reckless…" His voice cracked between sobs.
"In the end… in the end, my life ends here… seventeen years… is that even enough to be called an adult?"
He gasped for breath between louder cries. His shoulders trembled, wracked by despair.
"But… but… hic… what have I even accomplished? These six months of adventure—was it all worth this? For me to end like this?" Tears streamed endlessly down his dirt-streaked face, carving paths of grief.
He lowered his gaze, staring at the ground now damp with his tears.
"But I'm scared… hic… I'm scared of dying. I'm scared of the darkness swallowing me forever…"
"Mother… Father…"
Once more, in his critical moment, he thought of them.
His sobs broke the silence, echoing through the lonely forest. Night closed in, but for him, it felt as though time had stopped altogether.