"Funny how your life plays like a reel right before the end.
But no one ever said the reel would be this damn pathetic."
Blood seeped from the gash in his side, pooling beneath him like ink spilled on dying grass. His vision swam in and out, breaths shallow, every second a gamble. He couldn't tell if the thumping in his ears was his own heartbeat… or something hunting him.
The forest groaned around him — ancient trees twisted with cursed mana, their roots writhing like they breathed. The stench of iron and rot coated the air. Somewhere above, the wind split with a screech.
Drake Eagle.
Even the name made his fingers shake. The apex predator of this forest. Once it locked eyes with you, there was no escape. No one below D-class ever survived it.
And he? He wasn't even F.
His leg dragged behind him like dead weight — slashed open from the last ambush. He was dizzy, his artifact blade buzzed weakly in his grip, drained. The crimson horn tied to his waist pulsed faintly under layers of cloth.
The RedHorn Rabbit.
He got it. He actually got it.
But at what cost?
"Thirty thousand royals. Enough for meds. Maybe to clear some debt. Maybe food with actual meat…"
A low snarl made his thoughts snap back. Something was close. Closer than the eagle. On the ground. Four-legged. Fast.
His knees buckled.
"Move. Come on. MOVE!"
He forced himself to run — if dragging a bleeding leg and wheezing through cracked ribs counted as running. His artifact blade sparked violently. One more spell and it'd crack completely.
He turned behind, just in time to see a mana-burned wolf leap from the foliage.
He slashed.
Mana shrieked.
The spell backfired.
He was flung into a tree, pain blooming white-hot across his back. The world spun. Blood filled his mouth.
"Damn it... Not like this. I'm not dying here. Not today."
He staggered forward.
And then he saw it.
A dead Giant Green Python, massive and bloated, likely left half-eaten by the Drake Eagle. Its insides spilled onto the forest floor — grotesque, steaming, but...
Warm.
Hollow.
Big enough to hide.
"I've crawled through worse."
He didn't hesitate. He stabbed the carcass again, widening the opening, gritted his teeth against the stench, and shoved himself inside. Flesh clung to his arms, the slime soaking into his already blood-drenched clothes.
He left only a slit for his eyes.
Above, the trees parted as the Drake Eagle glided by.
It paused.
Hovered.
Sniffed the air.
He didn't breathe.
Time stretched.
Then — it screeched and flew off.
Only then did he exhale. Quiet. Controlled.
Inside the corpse of a beast, beneath the roots of a magic-twisted tree, he finally rested.
"This is what it takes to survive. This is what the world made me."
His eyelids fluttered, exhaustion overtaking his fear. As he slipped into unconsciousness, one hand remained clenched around the horn tied to his belt.
His only trophy. His only hope.
"No core. No gift. No power.
But I'm still here.
And I'll break the sky if I have to."