The trek back to the clearing was taking twice as long.
Every other hop: [Listen].
Quiet.
Another two hops: [Listen].
Still quiet.
[Suggestion: Wait until you've left the skill's effective range before recasting. Repeated sweeps of the same area are inefficient.]
Hey! Easy for you to say — it's not your tail on the line, System.
Even though every sweep came back empty, I couldn't shake the feeling I wasn't alone.
An effect of the [Marked] title, maybe?
Not sure. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's this: better safe than sorry.
[Listen]
Nothing again.
Buckle up, System — this might take a while.
*
*
*
By the time I reached the familiar slope leading to the clearing, my ears were ringing from self-inflicted sonar.
Every hop had felt like a gamble, every rustle a warning.
And then… I saw it.
The rotten tree.
I froze, heart thudding, and focused hard — pushing [Listen] to its limit until the shapes in my mind grew sharper, clearer.
[Listen → Lv.3]
Nothing. No laughing. No suffocating presence.
…It's gone, I thought. Relief flooded me.
Maybe whatever it was had better things to do than wait around for little old me?
Even as the words formed, I knew I was kidding myself.
Something told me that whatever that was, it wasn't done with me yet — not by a long shot.
…Lucky me.
I crept to my usual vantage point and peered into the clearing.
There it was again — the same familiar scene.
A massive beast, this time a wild boar, collapsed in the center. Half-dead. Bait for predators.
The mystery behind it remained unsolved, and yet the cycle continued.
I sighed.
You know… I should probably be terrified of this place, but I think I'm going to miss it.
A lot of firsts happened here — the first time I killed a rat. The first time I ate a rat. The time I was almost killed by a swarm of rats. The time I was almost killed by a snake. The time I was almost killed by giant bugs. The time I was basically killed by the boogeyman.
…Yeah, I don't think I'm going to miss this place one bit.
Still, heading into the unknown made me uneasy. Who knew what weirdness awaited me at the lake?
As troubling as the clearing was, there was something… comforting about consistency.
The cycle. The order. The predators, the scavengers, even the girl—
Yeah, even her—
Eeeeh!?
Girl!?
Was that a girl out there!?
Pale as snow. White dress soaked with blood. Sprawled against the boar's massive flank.
My jaw went slack.
…What the hell is a girl doing here?
Was I dreaming? Did I eat a bad rat or something? Or a good one for that matter?
Then the underbrush rustled.
The Bramble Bear Cub lumbered out — bigger, meaner. Its muscles thicker than yesterday, as though it were on the edge of becoming something else.
[Appraisal] flared.
[Status]
Species: Bramble Bear Cub
Level: 8/10
HP: 120 | MP: —
Stats: Vit – D | Str – D+ | End – D | Agi – E+ | Int – E | Wis – E- | Lck – F
Skills: [Maul Lv.4], [Bite Lv.3], [Briar Ram Lv.3], [Thorncoat Lv.1]
I froze. My stomach knotted.
W–which one of us is the Guardian!? System, I thought I was the only one with [Adaptive Growth]!?
[You are.]
Then how in the heck is it growing this fast!?
[The Bramble Bear Cub has been landing the killing strike on evolved monsters daily. While they are still at a lower tier and already on the verge of death, limiting its potential gains, their evolved state provides the cub with ample experience at its current stage.]
So while he's been enjoying five-star meals, here I am living on scavenger rats.
[Correct.]
And I'm the one who has to fight the demon lord.
[Correct.]
I'll need to remember this for Dumbledore when I get to make my wish.
Scratch that — if I get to make my wish.
Then there was the problem of the girl.
The cub slowly made its way toward the wild boar's weakened body — any moment now, it'd notice her too.
But what was I supposed to do?
Putting aside the fact that I don't stand a chance against that monster — she was covered in blood, laid out like an offering.
There was no way she was alive.
But still, my instincts nudged at me.
…This was a person in need of help.
I used [Listen].
I could hear the noises of the bear's thorn-covered coat, the heaving, raspy breathing of the boar — and, just barely, I could hear her heartbeat.
Weak, but steady.
She was alive.
My chest tightened.
Maybe it wouldn't notice her, and all I'd have to do is pull her out before—
RROOOAAARRR!
*
The cub let out a deafening roar as it finally reached the wild boar.
After defeating the weaklings who dared challenge him, it had claimed the clearing as its own.
This place was his now. Nowhere else could he enjoy such delights — no snakes or wolves could compare to the rush of power he felt surging within him as he feasted upon his new territory's offerings.
The offerings left by IT.
He still didn't know why IT had brought him here — dragged him out from his old hunting grounds where the air was thick with mana and the prey fought back like they meant it.
Here it was different. Soft. Quiet. The creatures were weak — frail things that squealed and broke too easily beneath his claws.
At first, he hated it — the dullness of the hunt, the lack of struggle, the tasteless victories.
But then came the offerings. The broken beasts. The power that seeped into his flesh with every bite.
Perhaps IT had a reason. Perhaps not.
Either way, he would not question it.
When IT watched, the air itself grew heavy, and the commands came like a pulse beneath his skin — kill, feed, grow.
And so he obeyed, never realizing his role in IT's grand design.
With no one left to challenge him, the monster raised its claws to tear at the boar's throat.
But then, its eyes twitched at the sight of something tucked behind its prey. It peered closer—
A small white beast looked up at him, shaking and terrified.
How funny, thought the cub.
He had seen these horned creatures before — usually in the mouths of other lesser beasts.
What was this one doing here? Had it forgotten to cower in the shadows like the others, to wait on his scraps?
Or did the little prey actually dare to challenge him?
Then he noticed something else — behind the little prey was something bigger. And it smelled… delicious.
Another offering left by IT?
No matter. He would feed and grow stronger.
But first, the little prey had to learn its place.
The cub locked eyes on the horned rabbit, baring its teeth, ready to sever its head with a single bite.
But then it stopped, its focus broken by the rabbit's strange behavior.
This was not the cub's first battle. It was cunning, experienced — it rarely let its guard down.
And yet, even he couldn't make sense of what he saw.
The rabbit had turned its back to him… and began shaking its tail.
The cub blinked. How strange.
So perplexed was he by the sight that he didn't notice the rabbit slowly shuffling to the side, its eyes set on the sun.
What a strange creature, he thought. Another product of weak lands.
But my feast awaits, so—
Die!
The Bramble Bear Cub lunged—
—and the world erupted in white.
FLASH!
A bright, blinding light exploded from the rabbit's horn.
Aaargh—!
The monster roared and swung its claws wildly in rage as its vision burned away.
You puny creature, it thought. You're dead. You may run now, but when I see you again, my claws will tear you to shreds. My fangs will pierce your heart. My—
As the light faded and its sight began to return, the cub froze once more.
The weak creature whose kind were known for fleeing was still there.
Crouched low. Muscles coiled. Red eyes glinting.
It was a look the cub knew well — a look he had given to countless monsters before him.
A look of defiance.
And in the next instant, the rabbit lunged — its horn piercing the monster's right eye.