The seed was colder than Cael expected.
Not cold like ice.
Cold like something that had never belonged in human hands.
The moment his fingers closed around it, a sharp pulse shot up his arm, fast and violent—like a heartbeat that wasn't his trying to force its rhythm into his blood.
Cael stiffened.
For a second, his vision blurred. The clearing tilted. His stomach turned like he'd been punched from the inside. He tightened his grip on the seed anyway, nails digging into his palm until he felt pain.
He welcomed the pain.
It proved he was still conscious.
The forest around the clearing didn't move like normal woods.
It reacted.
The air thickened, heavy and cold, pressing on his shoulders as if the grove itself was leaning in to see what kind of fool had just stolen from it. Even the light seemed to dim, like the sun above didn't want to be seen here anymore.
Cael swallowed slowly, keeping his breath shallow.
He could feel it now.
That gaze.
Not the System.
Something older.
Something that had been waiting.
A sound came from the trees—soft at first, like wet wood creaking. Then another, deeper, like something dragging itself across stone.
Cael turned.
At the edge of the clearing stood a creature that looked like a deer only if you'd never seen a real one.
It was tall. Too tall. Its legs were thin but wrong, bending with sharp angles that made Cael's knee joints ache in sympathy. Its body was wrapped in bark-like skin stretched tightly over a frame that didn't look meant for movement. Cracks ran along its ribs, leaking dark sap that smelled bitter and metallic.
Its antlers reached outward like twisted branches, with smaller thorns growing from them like hooks.
But the worst part was its face.
It didn't have proper eyes.
Just hollow pits glowing faintly green, like rot lit from within.
It stared at Cael.
And Cael understood instantly—
This wasn't just a monster.
This was a guardian.
A punishment.
A "you don't belong here."
The creature opened its mouth.
No roar came out.
Only a long, breathy sound, like the forest exhaling through something dead.
Then it stepped forward.
Slow.
Calm.
Like it already knew the result.
Cael's heart slammed against his ribs. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs didn't move.
The entrance to the clearing was behind that thing.
And even if he could slip past it, he had no stamina left for another desperate sprint.
His stats flashed in his mind like a curse.
Strength 3.Endurance 2.Magic Power 1.
I can't fight this.
But the seed in his hand pulsed again—harder this time.
A thin blue window appeared in front of him, transparent and cold.
[Warning: Guardian Encounter][Condition: Weak Constitution][Recommended Action: Retreat]
Cael almost laughed.
Retreat.
As if the grove would politely let him go.
The guardian took another step.
The ground beneath it darkened, as if the dirt itself was dying just from contact.
Cael's mouth went dry.
He forced his body to move—just barely—stepping back toward the altar stone while keeping his eyes locked on the creature. His fingers tightened around the seed again.
A third pulse.
This one didn't just travel through his arm.
It hit his chest.
His breath caught.
For an instant, it felt like someone had placed a burning hand over his heart.
Not pain.
Not exactly.
More like… pressure. Like something rooting itself into him.
A message appeared.
[Seed of Irregular Growth: Contact Established][Bonding Process: 1%][Warning: Bonding interrupted if User dies.]
Cael sucked in a sharp breath.
So it was bonding.
But not fast enough to save him.
The guardian's head tilted slightly—as if listening.
Then it moved.
Sudden.
Fast enough that Cael's brain couldn't fully process it.
Its antlers whipped forward like spears.
Cael threw himself sideways.
A sharp crack echoed as one thorned branch tore through the space where his head had been a moment earlier. Bark splintered off the altar behind him. He felt the wind of the strike against his cheek.
If that hit me, I'd be dead.
He rolled across the dirt, his shoulder slamming down hard. Pain exploded through his arm.
His vision sparked white.
His body screamed to stop.
He didn't.
Cael pushed up, shaking, and grabbed the first thing his hand found: a broken chunk of stone, jagged at the edge.
Not a sword.
Not even a proper knife.
But it was weight.
It was something.
The guardian turned toward him, steps silent despite its size.
It didn't rush this time.
It didn't need to.
It was letting him feel the gap between them.
Cael swallowed blood—he didn't even remember biting his tongue, but he tasted it now.
He circled sideways, eyes flicking to the clearing edges, the roots, the tall grass. He needed an opening, an escape route, anything.
The guardian lowered its head.
The green hollows glowed brighter.
And then—
The ground beneath Cael's feet shifted.
A root shot up like a snake, twisting around his ankle.
Cael's breath caught as he stumbled.
He nearly fell.
His heart froze.
The guardian lunged.
Cael reacted without thinking, swinging the jagged stone down with everything he had. The stone slammed into the root, cracking it—not breaking, but loosening it enough for him to wrench his foot free.
He threw himself backward again, barely escaping the antler strike that carved a shallow trench into the earth.
His ribs ached.
His lungs burned.
His legs felt numb.
I'm going to die here.
That thought came cold and clear, not dramatic, just honest.
The kind of thought El had lived with for years.
But Cael didn't accept it.
He couldn't.
Not after reaching the altar.
Not after touching the seed.
Not after seeing the numbers that declared him worthless.
He forced himself upright again, chest rising and falling like it might tear apart.
The System window flashed again, like it was watching.
[User Condition: Critical][Stamina: 6/27][HP: 21/43]
Half his life gone in a minute.
The guardian took one more step.
This time Cael didn't retreat.
He moved forward too.
The guardian's antlers snapped downward.
Cael ducked under them—too close, too reckless—and felt one thorn rake across his back. Pain flared hot and immediate. His shirt tore. Blood ran warm down his skin.
He nearly blacked out.
But in that moment, being close to it gave him something he hadn't had before—
A target.
He slammed the jagged stone into the creature's front leg.
The bark-like skin cracked with a dull sound.
The creature didn't scream.
It barely reacted.
It only turned its head toward him slowly, as if offended by his existence.
Then it struck with its foreleg like a hammer.
Cael tried to dodge.
He was too slow.
The hit clipped his shoulder and threw him sideways. He hit the ground hard, vision exploding into stars. For a second he couldn't feel his left arm at all.
His body lay still—shocked, stunned.
And that was when he realized something terrifying.
The guardian wasn't just trying to kill him quickly.
It was trying to break him first.
Like it wanted him to understand: you don't get to steal from this place.
Cael's fingers twitched.
The seed was still in his palm.
He hadn't dropped it.
He didn't know if that was stubbornness or instinct, but it didn't matter.
Another pulse came from the seed.
Stronger.
Deeper.
A new window appeared.
[Bonding Process: 9%][Irregular Growth: Passive Effect (Faint) Activated][Effect: +0.1 Growth Rate per Survived Lethal Event]
Cael's breath hitched.
So that was it.
It wasn't a burst of power.
It wasn't a miracle.
It was a promise.
Keep surviving. Keep suffering. And you'll keep growing.
The guardian approached again, steps silent, antlers gleaming with sap and rot.
Cael tried to rise.
His left arm didn't respond properly.
His legs shook like newborn foal legs.
He forced himself up anyway, because the alternative was a clean death.
And he didn't deserve a clean death.
Not after everything.
His eyes flicked around wildly.
The altar.
The cracked stone.
The tree line.
The roots—
Then he saw it.
A detail from the game.
Something he'd forgotten until now, because no one reached this point when it mattered.
Behind the altar stone… there was a hollow depression where water pooled during rain. In the game, it was just decoration.
But here?
The sap on the guardian's body was dripping.
Sap was flammable.
Not like oil.
But enough.
Cael's throat tightened as an idea formed, messy and desperate.
He looked down.
His hands were scraped. His clothes torn. But at his belt—
A small flint pouch.
He'd stolen it earlier from the clinic storage without thinking. Not for crime. For survival.
He hadn't even been sure it would matter.
Now it might be the only reason he lived.
The guardian lowered its head for the final charge.
Cael didn't run.
He stepped back toward the altar, stumbling, dragging his useless arm.
The guardian rushed him, antlers ready to impale.
At the last second, Cael dropped low and rolled sideways, grabbing the jagged stone and slamming it into the cracked altar.
The altar stone gave way with a loud snap.
Water and old sludge spilled out.
The guardian's hooves hit the slick ground.
It slipped.
Just for a moment.
A tiny mistake.
In a real fight, a moment was everything.
Cael's body moved before his mind finished the thought.
Pure instinct.
Like his muscles had done this a hundred times before.
Like his soul remembered dying and refusing it.
He tore open the flint pouch with shaking fingers, struck it hard, sparks flying—
One spark caught the sap-smeared bark on the creature's foreleg.
At first, nothing.
Then a small flame.
Then the flame spread.
The guardian jerked, finally reacting with something close to panic. It stumbled backward, shaking violently as the fire crawled along the cracks in its bark-skin.
It made that breathy sound again, louder, harsher—
Not a scream.
But something like rage.
It swung its antlers wildly.
Cael dove away, barely avoiding the strike, his ribs screaming with the movement.
The guardian thrashed again—
and fell.
Its long legs buckled as the fire ate through the sap-filled cracks. The green glow in its hollow eyes flickered erratically, dimming like a lantern running out of fuel.
Cael didn't stop.
He grabbed another stone and slammed it into the creature's skull as it struggled on the ground, over and over, until his hands went numb.
Until the movement stopped.
Until the glow vanished completely.
Only then did Cael collapse onto his knees, chest heaving, throat raw from breathing too hard.
He stared at the dead guardian, blood dripping from his fingers, body shaking so badly he could barely keep himself upright.
He'd won.
Not because he was strong.
Not because he had talent.
Not because the world gave him anything for free.
He won because he refused to die quietly.
The System chimed softly.
[Guardian Defeated.][Bonding Process: 22%][Reward: Title Gained — "Grove Survivor"][Reward: Endurance +1][Warning: Your existence has been noticed.]
Cael blinked at the last line.
Noticed.
By what?
The grove?
The system?
Something worse?
He didn't have time to understand.
His eyelids felt heavy, his body screaming for rest.
But before he could let himself fall, Cael looked down at the seed still clutched in his palm—now faintly warm, as if it had accepted him.
He closed his fingers around it tighter and whispered, voice broken but steady.
"…This is only the beginning."
And somewhere deep in the Withering Grove, beyond the clearing, a distant rustle answered—as if something else had awakened.