Huff!
‘It’ was breathing roughly.
The evaporated sweat turned into white smoke that covered its entire body, and its solid muscles swelled like living things, trembling and bulging menacingly.
The axe it gripped in both hands was crude in craftsmanship yet possessed a blade thicker than a human head, making it threatening in its own right.
However, no matter how strong the predator, it would meet its end when famished.
If the belly aches and the throat dries up, one dies.
This was no different for the Orc, one of the many monsters that widely inhabit the Great Forest.
The Orc was exhausted.
It had been expelled from its group and hadn’t had a moment of rest while evading persistent pursuers.
But then it had arrived at this place.
A space that was clearly apart from the usual cutthroat, second-to-second struggle prevalent in the Great Forest.
There was little noise around.
Even the persistent pursuers from its tribe had long since disappeared.
The fog lingered and the air was cool, making it seem as if a ghost might live here in this world where ghosts truly exist.
Not a ghost, but a wraith or specter — the name might differ, but the concept of an incorporeal entity born from a wandering spirit remains the same.
Though the Great Forest may appear chaotic and unordered with its myriad of monsters, in truth, its territories were strictly divided.
Is this the territory of the wraiths?
The Orc tensed, stiffening its whole body, and advanced cautiously.
Even staying still, vigilant, was difficult due to the ordeal of its long chase, which had left its stomach clinging to its back.
Above all else, the smell approaching as it sniffed the air made its mouth water.
For monsters, instinct precedes reason.
Food was a paramount concern for the starving Orc.
Would even a human be able to endure a week of starvation?
And so the Orc finally discovered the source of the smell.
On a framework of entwined branches, covered by leaves, there lay strips of dried fish.
That rich, appetizing smell originated from that.
Fish is a hard food to eat.
Raw fish carries the worry of parasites and even cooked fish has to be carefully de-boned to avoid gum injuries.
But the fish in front of the Orc had already been carefully cleaned, its fine bones removed and grilled to perfection — nothing short of a feast.
The monster’s eyes rolled back in its head, and it lunged.
“Huh?”
It abruptly noticed someone — a peculiarly dressed human with animal skin draped over them, whose twinkling, darting eyes suggested they were the one who had prepared this feast.
The Orc sneered at them, with a grin as it devoured the fish using two hands.
What are you going to do about it? You want to fight?
Broadly, that was the meaning of its expression.
They are human, after all.
Out in the Great Forest’s edges, they might strut around stiff-backed, but in the actual forest, humans were the lowest rung of the food chain — mere bugs that fled in terror at the first sign of danger.
The Orc knew this human wouldn’t have the courage to fight back.
Would they even stand a chance scratching the warrior’s firm muscles if they attacked?
Since you prepared such a feast, I’ll honor it by letting you live and pretending I didn’t see you.
That was the greatest kindness the Orc could offer a human.
“Indeed.”
The human, however, didn’t seem to be accepting the Orc’s generous offer.
They blew a dismissive breath and strode forward confidently.
Though the Orc’s face was buried in the fish, it detected every nuanced movement.
What a foolish move.
No matter how precious the food, is it more precious than your own life?
The Orc was only considering sparing the human as long as they didn’t cause trouble.
If they were so brash and overstepped their place, they would have to pay.
Come closer then.
I’ll crush your skull quickly and cleanly, sparing you pain.
One step, two steps — soon, soon, within reach of my fist… why do I not sense your presence…
That was the Orc’s final thought.
Fwock!
With a sound like a watermelon splitting, the Orc’s headless body slid down.
“What’s this about, overexcited for nothing?”
Beside it stood a girl, Rena, wrinkling her nose as she shook the blood off her fist.
It was a day when Rena could proudly consider herself a true resident of the Great Forest.
*
Humans are said to be adaptable creatures.
Rena agreed with this proposition, having lived her survival story in the Great Forest.
She could recognize it from firsthand experience.
It had been years since Rena had lived as a “primitive human.”
She wasn’t exactly sure how much time had passed.
She’d counted up to one year out of habit, but as whether or not she counted became irrelevant, she naturally stopped.
Still, she could say that her days had been fulfilling.
Living in the boisterous city was a thing of the past — this was a different kind of experience, an adventure post-discharge from the military, rather than a glorification of something she once complained about endlessly.
The romantic idea of life outside civilization, the tranquility of living with nature? It wasn’t like that at all, yet her days were filled with purpose.
In the end, a person’s life boils down to eating, fighting, and sleeping.
Every day she struggled to achieve these, losing track of time.
It was the opposite of the rat race of a modern person’s repetitive existence.
…Though it was spectacular to a degree that was perhaps excessive.
There are always trade-offs. You gain something, you lose something.
Even though it was unexpected, Rena adapted to her sudden change in lifestyle.
And beyond the consistency of her daily life, there was a special aspect that made her primitive life enjoyable.
“Ugh, this itching is just unbearable.”
Rena rubbed her chest vigorously while complaining.
Closing her eyes, she saw hundreds of branching paths before her, a familiar view of the “vocation change window.”
A moment before, she’d killed the Orc and instantly realized —
I leveled up.
Without hesitation, she moved forward.
Running almost at a sprint, since the path was clear.
And finally, reaching the end.
The scene that had unfolded dozens of times appeared once again.
The silhouette of a natural human that had guided her through survival in the Great Forest.
That initially distant figure had become noticeably closer with each passing day.
Today, he was close enough to touch with an outstretched hand.
Rena reached toward him.
The featureless mannequin-like figure gained distinct features, transforming into Rena’s likeness.
At that moment, she understood.
This marked the completion of Wild Fate — its last branch.
“Wild Fate has evolved into Wild Fate (Awakening)!”
——
[Wild Fate (Awakening)]
——
“Hmm, yes, thank you.”
Rena swiped the system message out of her vision before it could cover it entirely.
The job promotion was complete.
In gaming terms, this was the beginning of endgame content.
Her status window was similar to a gaming system, surely containing significant data.
So what? She couldn’t read it anyway.
The error — where her status window revealed only her name — remained.
Trying to read it would be more trouble than just experiencing it physically.
Before doing anything else…
“Show yourself.”
First, let’s clear away the uninvited guest.
“You don’t want to come out?”
There was no way Rena would fall for such trickery.
The words “Kal’Bar Wind Tribe Orc” floating over the dense bushes unmistakably revealed the hidden enemies.
A rare and somewhat useful function of the system Rena had dismissed earlier.
“I’ll ask nicely this time. Come out. I’ll count to three, or I’ll really ignore you. Three, two, one.”
Huff!
“There you go, you knew it all along. Come out sooner next time, will you?”
The Orcs emerged as if realizing their warning.
Their expressions of surprise betrayed their lack of understanding.
How could you have known? — But the names were right in front of her.
She had sole claims to ambushes.
“You’re all here to steal my food, right?”
Identical in appearance to the last orc she’d killed for stealing food.
Of course, their motives were the same.
It had to be hunger driving them to steal food.
Frequent occurrences, though more frequent in the past.
“Honestly, animals are animals.”
Rena didn’t linger in one place.
Whether by choice, circumstance, or the rare environmental factors, she had relocated often.
This current residence held a memorable significance.
It was the location where she hadn’t moved for half a year.
The secret was in establishing the hierarchy.
Until now, Rena had lived quietly, knowing she was an outsider, trying not to cause friction with the natives.
That didn’t work.
They were beasts.
They saw her kindness as weakness.
So this time she took pre-emptive measures after settling down — killing and threatening the necessary foes.
Surprisingly! These beasts didn’t dare to stir!
Peace truly does arise from strength.
Still, beasts are beasts.
The effects of her actions were fading with time.
People forget memories as time passes, repeating the same mistakes, and beasts are no different.
Even more so when driven by hunger.
“Look at this.”
Rena dragged a ruined fish rack over.
The fermented fish, intended to last for at least a week, was now nothing but waste.
Drenched in spilled green blood from the decapitated Orc.
Orc blood is green.
If the hue was vibrant, like that of spring plants, it might have been possible to rationalize eating it with positive self-talk.
The murky green blood was not only unappetizing but also filled with contaminants.
Thus, it was no longer food, but trash.
Actually, from the moment the Orc touched it, it was already considered trash.
The Orc had eaten greedily.
Its modern sensibilities made her stomach turn from the thought of touching the contaminated fish.
It was more advantageous to pass it off to them as garbage.
In a sense, it was a win-win: she would dispose of waste, and they would eat.
However, Rena had once taken the path of non-violent peacekeepers.
It ended in failure.
Now the person here was a reborn, awakened superhuman: a self-declared ruler of the Great Forest.
“Ang.”
Rena stuffed the contaminated fish into her mouth.
I’ll eat the trash if I have to, but you definitely won’t get it.
That was the taunting message hidden in her smug grin.
