The night was silent when he heard the sound of a stone rolling across the floor.
His eyes snapped open, heart pounding in his chest.
His hands instinctively reached for the spears lying beside him, fingers wrapping tightly around the shafts.
In one motion, he rose to his feet.
His eyes struggled to pierce the darkness, but the faint glow of dying embers painted the outline of a figure inside his cave.
He lunged forward, spears in hand, and pressed them against the intruder's throat, forcing her back against the wall.
Breathless, he narrowed his eyes, and then he recognized her.
The woman.
The one who had whispered gratitude to him the day before.
Confusion rushed over him.
Slowly, he pulled the spears back from her throat.
She didn't flinch.
Instead, she took a quiet step toward the entrance, her silhouette framed by the shadows.
He hesitated only a moment before slipping outside, scanning the bushes and the treeline for movement.
Darkness pressed in around him, thick and heavy.
Nothing stirred, no sound but the wind whispering through leaves.
The silence was absolute.
He returned inside, cautious and tense.
She was there still, moving slowly, her curiosity guiding every gesture.
Her hands trailed along his fur cloak, testing its texture.
She bent near the fire, running her fingers through the faint warmth of the flames.
She pressed her palms against the pillow he had made from woven plants, squeezing as though she wanted to know its secrets.
Her hand glided across the horns fixed on his helmet, tracing their shape.
Every motion she made was deliberate, almost childlike in wonder.
He watched her, his body rigid, his thoughts swirling.
Was this real?
Was he dreaming?
If it was real, then why had she come?
He could not contain himself.
The question slipped from his lips:
"Why are you here?"
Before he could say more, her finger pressed softly against his mouth.
A silent command: hush.
The touch seared into him, hot and intimate.
It was the first true human touch he had felt since he had awoken in this world.
Something inside him ignited.
Excitement mixed with confusion, and his pulse hammered in his ears.
She finished her quiet exploration of his belongings, then turned and stepped closer.
She stopped directly before him, so close that one breath could close the distance between them.
Her eyes never left his; she blinked rarely, as if afraid she might miss something.
Her hands rose, sliding over his shoulders, then his face.
She tested the shape of him, exploring as though she were mapping unknown land.
Her hands moved down, fingers pressing against his chest, feeling the tension of the muscles.
She squeezed as though she wanted to measure his strength.
Her hands drifted further, tracing along his abdomen, pressing against his stomach.
He felt her weighing the solidity of his body.
He realized she was testing him, studying how strong he was, how durable.
His breathing grew heavier, his body locked in place.
Then, without breaking eye contact, she finally spoke, her voice soft but steady:
"I was curious. I could not resist. What you did for us today was good. We thank you."
Her words struck him deeply. Warmth spread inside him.
He smiled faintly.
"If you want more, all you need to do is ask. I can help you."
he replied.
Her lips curved into the faintest smile.
But before the moment could grow further, he added,
"One condition. Tell me your name."
Silence stretched between them, long enough that he heard nothing but the fire's faint crackle and their breath mingling.
Then she leaned close to his ear, warm breath brushing his skin, and whispered:
"Annabel."
The name coiled around him like a thread binding him to this world.
It was the first name spoken to him here, and it felt like a vow, like an anchor.
"I must leave."
she said then, her eyes softer now.
"Our chief appreciated your gesture. But tomorrow you will be tested. Please… pass the trials, and join us."
Before he could answer, she pressed a kiss, light as a feather, to the edge of his cheek, grazing near his lips.
The touch lingered after she had already stepped away.
Then she vanished into the darkness outside.
He stood there for a long moment, listening to the silence she left behind.
Her name echoed in his head, a whisper he could not forget.
At last, he lay down again, but sleep was restless.
Morning arrived with the sound of voices and movement outside.
He gripped his spears and stepped into the open.
A crowd had gathered, fifty, maybe seventy people in total.
Their eyes were fixed on him, some fearful, others curious.
At the front stood an old man.
His head was crowned with great feathers, his posture straight despite the weight of years.
The presence he carried was undeniable.
This had to be the chief. His gaze was heavy, and when he spoke, his voice carried authority.
"Do you understand me?" he asked.
He nodded once. "Yes."
"The gifts you offered pleased us," the chief said gravely. "
I would have you among my people.
But first, you must face a trial."
The words echoed in his mind, colliding with what Annabel had told him.
His eyes drifted instinctively to the bushes.
There she was, watching him.
The hope in her face steadied him and fueled him.
The chief continued: "You will fight Karlmos, our strongest warrior, our war chief.
The duel will take place tomorrow, when the sun is highest in the sky.
If you can defeat him, if you can force him to yield, you will be one of us.
If not, then your end will be death. Do you accept?"
The words crashed into him like stone.
Death.
He had already died once.
He had already returned.
Fear tried to rise in him, but strength answered.
He saw Annabel's eyes, the way they shone with concern.
Karlmos must have been powerful; her fear told him that much.
But he would not falter.
He swallowed hard.
"I accept," he said.
"Tell Karlmos to meet me tomorrow in the open ground. I will prove I am worthy."
The crowd dispersed slowly, whispers carrying into the air.
He returned to his cave, his thoughts thick with uncertainty.
Could he truly defeat him?
Could he survive this test?
But hesitation would not keep him alive.
Preparation would.
He checked his supplies: meat, water, and berries.
Enough to last.
He began to craft new spears, sharpening stones until their edges glinted.
He lashed them tight to the shafts, stronger than before.
He carved short clubs and makeshift knives from sharpened sticks bound with stone tips.
His hands moved quickly, every motion deliberate.
Then he turned to defense.
Outside his cave, he constructed a trap.
Large branches formed the frame of a cage.
He tied them with fibers, weaving a crude mechanism with ropes.
A bait of bones lay beneath.
When scavenger birds came to feed, he would pull the cord, dropping the cage.
As the sun dipped low, two massive carrion birds descended.
They were nearly as large as children, their wings black against the dusk.
One escaped, but the other was caught.
It thrashed, its eyes locking on his.
For a moment he saw a strange awareness in them, almost pleading.
But mercy did not fill bellies.
He tightened his grip on the spear, stepped forward, and drove the point into its chest.
The bird shuddered, then fell still.
His muscles burned, but his resolve hardened.
He dragged it inside, blood marking the stones as he went.
[+60 XP]
Strength +1
Intelligence +1
New Skill Unlocked: [Trapcraft Lv.1]
Night closed in.
The air was cooler, the fire crackled low.
He sat beside the body of the bird, preparing its meat, stacking it among his stores.
His mind drifted to Karlmos.
Would he be a beast of pure strength, or would he fight with skill?
Would his weapons be enough, or would he have to rely on every ounce of cunning he possessed?
He lay back, staring at the cave ceiling.
Annabel's face flickered across his thoughts, her name whispering like the echo of wind.
She believed in him.
That belief was fuel, sharper than hunger, stronger than fear.
Tomorrow, under the sun at its peak, his fate would be decided.
Would he rise as one of them, or fall back into the darkness from which he had come?