The sun hadn't risen yet, but the sky was already shifting, slowly melting from a starless ink-black into a muted gray-blue. A pale light brushed the tips of the towering trees, the twin moons fading reluctantly as dawn approached. Ren stood at the river's edge, the cold water rushing past his fingers as he splashed it across his face and arms. His reflection wavered in the moving surface—blood smeared on his cheeks, dried sweat matting his tangled hair, and eyes heavy with exhaustion but still burning with determination.
He cupped his hands, scooping up a handful of water and drinking deeply. Cold. Clean. Flowing freely. The sensation was a balm, soothing the raw dryness in his throat and the stubborn ache in his chest. He moved upstream where the river slowed into a clear, shallow pool—no foam, no strange odors—safe. Finally, water.
Ren let the liquid coat his throat, the relief spreading like warmth into the farthest corners of his body. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe this place was better. Safer. With the cliff behind him, shelter to the sides, and water at his feet, he had at least the basics to survive. He'd made the brutal mistake of camping near a kill once; he would not make that error twice.
After a short rest, he rose, muscles protesting, and traced the shattered trail of broken trees and torn earth the Red Moon Bear had left in its rampage. The path led him back to his original campsite, where the three dire wolf corpses still lay. He clenched his jaw, grabbed each wolf by its hind legs, and dragged them one by one back along the trail toward the waterfall near his new shelter. Exhaustion clawed at his limbs, but the strength granted by his level-ups held steady. His body no longer betrayed him so easily.
By dawn, his new camp was taking shape with the slow, deliberate rhythm of a man who had learned not just to survive but to prepare. He found a thicket of young, supple trees and bent them into a half-dome frame, anchoring the structure with heavy stones. Layers of moss, vines, and wide, tough leaves were woven into the frame, patching gaps and creating a more solid, windbreaking shelter. One side remained open, facing the fire pit carefully placed near a natural stone wall—meant to reflect heat and shield from wind.
He used smooth river stones to carve a shallow basin, perfect for collecting rainwater and boiling it once he could fashion a proper container. Each task was methodical, the kind of steady work he had watched on survival videos but now executed with raw necessity.
Skinning the dire wolves was a grim but essential chore. Ren recalled the techniques: cutting around joints, pulling the skin carefully to avoid tearing, separating hide from muscle with slow precision. He hung thick slabs of meat on racks crafted from Y-shaped branches and thin vines, spaced above the fire so the smoke could act as a natural preservative.
"This should hold me for a week, maybe more…" he muttered, the faintest trace of satisfaction in his voice.
From one of the larger bones, he carved hooked tools and fashioned bone needles, their points sharp and practical. Using coarse stones found near the riverbank, he shaped the massive fangs into curved, vicious daggers—primitive weapons but deadly in skilled hands. One fang was trimmed into a triangular blade and lashed firmly to a short shaft, creating a stone-tipped knife. He also made a new spear, longer and better balanced, with a sharpened stone blade bound tightly using tough grass ropes and animal tendon.
For fire, Ren improved his first crude spindle into a more efficient hand drill: an upright spindle on a flat base, spun rapidly by pulling a cord looped around it, anchored between two sticks like a bow drill but operated vertically. Hours of blistered hands and aching arms paid off as smoke curled upward and flame finally caught.
"Now I'm not just surviving… I'm preparing."
He wiped sweat from his brow with a strip of hide, breathing deep. By the time the morning sun spilled fully over the treetops, Ren sat amidst his handiwork: a sturdy shelter, a fire pit, tools, weapons, food, and clean water. Draped across his shoulders was a rough but warm cloak fashioned from dire wolf hide, a hunter's mantle earned through struggle.
He wasn't safe—not yet—but for the first time since waking in this strange world, Ren felt a fragile flicker of control.
As the last rack of drying meat hissed softly over the fire, Ren collapsed onto a flat stone with a sigh. Shelter, fire, tools, water, food—and no bears.
"This is what winning feels like," he murmured, eyes drifting upward through the leafy canopy.
But beneath the exhaustion, one nagging thought tugged at him: that ridiculous "Status" command.
He sat up, eyebrows knitting. "Seriously? I had to raise my hand like I'm in some kind of magical homeroom? What is this, nerd camp?"
He mockingly raised his palm in the air, sighed, and muttered, "Ren Arclight, present."
Nothing.
"…Figures."
He folded his arms and stared at the sky. Maybe he didn't have to say it out loud. Maybe it worked with thought alone.
He focused.
Status.
DING.
The golden interface blinked into existence. Ren's eye twitched.
"…Are you kidding me?"
"I could've just thought it this whole time? I was out here looking like a wizard cosplay reject at a fan convention!"
Still grumbling, he scanned the screen, only to see another glowing window pop up beside it.
[LEVEL UP x2 – STATUS POINTS AVAILABLE]
You have gained: +10 Attribute Points (5 per level)
Bonus: +500 Skill Points (10x multiplier active)
▸ Distribute points now? [Yes] / [Later]
"About time."
Ren jabbed the "Yes" option with just a little too much attitude, and the screen shifted to the attribute allocation panel.
[STATUS SCREEN]
Name: Ren Arclight
Age: 17
Condition: Stable | Well-Fed | Light Fatigue
HP: 50 / 50
MP: 20 / 20
Strength: 10
Magic: 6
Defense: 7
Agility: 6
Unallocated Attribute Points: 10
Unspent Skill Points: 500
He cracked his knuckles, a sly grin creeping across his face.
"Let's build a better me."
Dragging the glowing plus signs with deliberate care, he allocated:
+3 Strength — because bears exist.
+2 Defense — also because bears.
+2 Agility — because running from bears.
+3 Magic — because… fireballs. Obviously.
The new stats locked in:
Strength: 13
Magic: 9
Defense: 9
Agility: 8
Unallocated Attribute Points: 0
Unspent Skill Points: 500
A warm pulse spread through his limbs, muscles tingling, mind sharpening. It felt like the surge after stretching out of a deep sleep and downing a strong espresso all at once.
Leaning back against a mossy log, he chuckled quietly. "I am now 12% less likely to die screaming. Progress."
He wrapped the dire wolf cloak tighter around his shoulders and lay back in the shelter. The golden shimmer of the HUD still lingered beside him like a guardian spirit.
Tomorrow… magic. Or maybe I'll just punch a bear to death. We'll see.
With that, Ren let sleep finally take him—without fear.