The forest didn't welcome him.
It tolerated him.
Trees twisted subtly when he passed. The wind shifted unnaturally in his presence. Birds perched in silence above the branches, and even the insects seemed to flee before his footsteps.
Rei couldn't blame them. I mean he had been tense since he left the village.
He hadn't even been gone a full day, and already the world felt… off.
His first night alone was bitter. Cold. No fire. No shelter. Just damp leaves and darkness.
Sleep never came easy—not with the dreams.
They rolled through his chest like thunder—not sound, but sensation. When he woke, the grass beneath him had turned black, scorched in a perfect circle.
"I didn't even have a fire." He thought.
And yet, something had burned.
Still, he pressed on.
North. Always north.
He didn't know what lay that way—only that it felt of danger. The monk hadn't said which direction the threat would come from, but Rei could feel it in his bones:
Danger follows roads.
So he took the animal trails, the narrow winding paths that beasts used to hide. He stayed beneath the branches, walked only when the wind masked his steps, and never left more than a whisper of a footprint behind.
By the fifth day, he could no longer deny it.
The pressure was back.
It wasn't overwhelming like when he was a newborn, but it had changed.
Deeper now. Hungrier.
It pulsed in his chest with each breath, a buried furnace humming low and steady. It wasn't painful—not yet—but it was always there. Watching. Waiting.
And when he got angry…
It flared.
Not outward. Not explosively. But inward, like gravity shifting inside his ribs.
He couldn't ignore it any longer.
So he didn't.
He trained more.
Each morning, Rei rose before the sun.
He stood barefoot in a clearing, eyes closed, arms relaxed at his sides.
He didn't summon his power. He listened to it.
He mapped it.
Traced its edges.
Felt where it wanted to go.
At first, touching it was like dipping his fingers into molten iron.
But slowly—painfully—he adapted.
He began to understand its rhythm: three heavy pulses, a pause, then a slow internal churn.
[ You are syncing with: Inner Cataclysm Node. ]
It wasn't magic. Not in the traditional sense.
No spells. No incantations. No circles.
It was more like interacting with a living machine buried beneath the skin of the world.
He learned to push it to his fingertips. To coat stones with it, feel them shiver, then pull it back before they broke. He made water ripple without touching it. He cracked tree branches from ten feet away just by "pressing" on them.
Most importantly:
He didn't lose control.
On the eighth day, he saw a boar.
Old. Half-blind. Wounded. Charging wildly through the underbrush, driven by fear and hunger.
Rei didn't run.
He focused.
He raised one hand and released a thin filament of force—a sliver of pressure, sharp and quiet.
Not to kill. Just to stop.
The air cracked.
The boar flipped, legs stiff, crashing to the ground.
Not dead.
But not getting up again.
[ Reality Suppression Skill: Rank I → II ]
[ Precision Control Unlocked: Veil Threading ]
Rei stared at his hands.
They didn't shake.
He smiled, just a little.
"I'm learning."
That night, he built a fire. It was his first.
He cooked the boar meat carefully while he sat beneath a tree, watching the stars flicker beyond the leaves.
He felt, if only for a moment, safe.
Then he heard voices.
They came from a clearing just ahead.
Three figures. Two walked casually, chatting. The third was a heavy sack dragged between them.
"Told you that last one was a hob, not a runt. Look at the teeth."
"Still scratched me with a dagger. Can't wait to cash in and get a proper drink."
Rei crouched low behind a log.
They were older than him—fifteen, maybe sixteen. One wore half-rusted plate. The other had patched robes and glowing glyphs stitched into the sleeves. Both carried short swords and tags dangling from their belts.
Adventurers.
They were heading back toward a town. Maybe even a guild.
Rei's heart beat faster.
He didn't follow them immediately.
He waited until they were well ahead, then shadowed them. Quiet. Precise. Like he'd practiced a thousand times.
Scene: First Glimpse of Bellenridge
The forest started to thin as the sun dipped behind the hills.
Rei moved slower now, his senses stretched thin. The pressure in his chest had settled into a steady hum—watchful, patient. The moment he crossed from the wild into the world of people, he knew everything would change.
Then he saw it.
At the crest of a moss-covered ridge, the trees opened like parting curtains, and there—nestled in a shallow valley—lay a town
Not large. Not walled like a fortress. But alive.
Its wooden buildings hugged the sloping earth, some stacked along hillsides, others clustered around a central square. Rooftops were layered in slate or moss-thatch, giving the whole place a muted, earthy palette—stone gray, bark brown, and the green of overgrowth.
Torchlight flickered along dirt paths like glowing insects. Faint smoke rose from chimneys. The scent of burned pine and stewed vegetables drifted in the breeze.
A crooked wooden sign swayed on some rusted chains above the main gate, marked with simple carved runes:
[ Bellenridge – Guild Outpost, Tier Bronze ]
Two guards stood lazily at the entrance, chatting with a woman dragging a cart of lumber. They wore partial leather armor and carried cheap spears. Not elite. Not careless. Just... used to survival.
Beyond them, Rei could see more:
A tall timber hall with faded bronze banners: the adventurer's guild, unmistakable in shape and placement.A market lane, stalls folded shut for the evening.Lanterns hung on ropes between houses like stars caught in nets.A low temple made of dark stone, roof curved like wings, with prayer bells that jingled faintly in the wind.
Bellenridge was no capital.
But it was awake. It was breathing. Human.
And for someone like Rei, who had lived for days in silence, speaking only to birds and shadows, it felt almost too loud.
His eyes scanned everything. Every window. Every watchtower. Every symbol painted in chalk or carved into doorframes.
"Protection glyphs. Ward marks. Spirit lines."
This wasn't just a frontier town.
It was aware of the world's dangers.
He stood at the edge of the trees, hidden by pine and dusk.
The adventurers he'd followed entered the gate, laughing while dragging a bloody sack toward the guild hall.
No one questioned them.
No one cared.
It was routine.
Rei watched. Waited.
Then took his first step toward civilization.
If they could walk inside without fear…
Then maybe he could too.