Chapter 10 – A Monument of His Life
Chapter 10
A Monument of His Life
Date: Unknown (Twenty Fourth day of the Journey)
Hyoren woke up in the morning.
The light filtered through the cave entrance. Grey. Soft. Familiar now. He stretched. Feeling the ache in his muscles from yesterday's hunt.
He checked his calendar. The leather strip hung on the wall. The charcoal marks stretched across it in neat rows.
"Twenty-four days… Days passed quickly."
He picked up his charcoal. Added another line to the growing list.
"Two days needed for full recovery after my magic depletion."
He flexed his fingers. Feeling the warmth in his chest. His magic core had finally returned to normal. The hollow feeling was gone.
"Magic manipulation is indeed a strong trump card. But I need to ration it well."
He was not idle these past two days. He had still explored. Still ground experience on goblins. Hunting. Killing. Absorbing essence. But the whole time, he had felt the emptiness in his chest. The depletion that refused to heal quickly.
"When I used it without depleting, magic regeneration is quite fast."
He felt that after he finally recovered yesterday. After he tried to use magic again without depleting his core, it recovered quickly.
"But when it's completely depleted... It seems my magic core receives backlash."
He nodded to himself. A silent promise.
"I must not deplete my magic reserve completely."
He looked down at himself.
The clothes he'd worn when he first arrived—the hoodie, the jeans, the sneakers—were gone. The hoodie had torn beyond repair after the second week. The jeans had fallen apart during his fights with the goblins yesterday. The sneakers had disintegrated on the rough terrain few days ago.
Now he wore a tunic and pants made from tanned rabbit leather, stitched together with creeping vine thread. The pelts were dark grey, soft but durable. His feet were wrapped in the same material, fashioned into crude boots that protected against the forest floor.
"Sleepy. I should wash my face in the river."
He grabbed a strip of smoked meat from his stores and chewed while he walked.
He descended from the cave, following the familiar path to the waterfall. The roar of the water grew louder as he approached.
He knelt at the river's edge and leaned over the water. Scooping water to clean his face and wake him up fully. The reflection of him appeared on the water afterward.
"Damn. I look like a wild man."
His hair had grown longer, falling past his shoulders. He hadn't cut it since arriving. The black strands were matted and unkempt, framing a face that had grown leaner.
His jaw was sharper now. His skin had darkened from days under the dual suns. The hands that emerged from his leather sleeves were rough, calloused from spear work and skinning.
He stared at his reflection for a long moment.
Then he chuckled.
"Wild man. But I survived. I thrived."
Twenty-four days ago, he'd been helpless. Confused. Now he had a cave. A spear. Skills. Magic. Levels. A map of the surrounding area. Knowledge of the creatures that inhabited this world.
***
The afternoon of his twenty-seventh day. Marked by lines in his calendar.
Hyoren lay on his rug, staring at the stone ceiling of his cave. The fire crackled softly. Outside, the waterfall roared. He was thinking.
"Twenty-seven days already passed. Almost a month in this forest."
He thought about the creatures he'd faced. The horned rabbits. The mossback squirrels. The creeping vines. The goblins. Then his goal. The flower and insect.
"Nothing in the forest around my cave can hurt me anymore. I can track them from hundreds of meters away. My Forest Walker skill sees every footprint, every broken branch, every sound. I never get ambushed."
He thought about his levels. Level 4. Almost Level 5. He sat up and reached for his kill log, unrolling the leather on the floor.
The numbers stared back at him. Kills. Experience points. He did the math in his head.
"I've already gathered one hundred sixty-one essence since my last level up. I need thirty-one more."
"With my current rate..."
He calculated. The goblins gave three essence each. Rabbits gave one. On average, he killed fifteen to twenty creatures per day, depending on the goblin population.
"Two days. At most three days of hunting. That's all I need."
He rolled up the log and set it aside.
"After I level up… I will defeat the flower. That is my benchmark. If I survive that. I will survive the journey to reach civilization."
He'd been putting it off. Focusing on survival. On grinding. On building his strength. But the truth was simple—he couldn't stay here forever. The forest was safe, but it was limited. No people. No resources beyond meat and leather.
He needed to find others. Towns. Cities.
"After Level 5. That's when I'll go."
***
Two days passed. The morning of his twenty-ninth day dawned like every other. He gathered his gear. Spear. Knife. Stones. Pouch. He left the cave and headed north, toward goblin territory.
The hunt was productive. Goblins fell before his spear. Rabbits were harvested as he passed. By midday, he'd killed several goblins. The essence count climbed steadily.
He cornered the last goblin of the day near a small clearing. The creature snarled, raising its crude club, but it was no match for his speed.
One thrust. The spear pierced its chest. The goblin fell. And the feeling of level up spread through his body.
He straightened, his spear still in hand.
"Level 5."
He felt it, the slight but noticeable increase in speed, in power, in resilience.
He withdrew his spear from the goblin's body. A magic stone tumbled out. He pocketed it.
"One hundred ninety-two essence. I did it."
He stood in the clearing, the dual suns high above him, the forest stretching in every direction.
***
Hyoren sat in his cave, the fire casting flickering shadows on the stone walls.
He'd done it. Level 5. The goal he'd been working toward for weeks. But there was one more thing. One loose end that needed tying before he left this forest.
“Tomorrow. I will fight the flower and insect combo… The only monster left in this forest I haven’t killed yet.”
He thought about the creatures he'd encountered on his first trip to the lake. The purple flowers with their hallucinogenic pollen. The metallic dragonflies with their needle-like bodies.
“The Insect. I assume they will swarm me. Three. Or four at same time. I need a way to kill them quickly.”
He stood and checked his gear. The horned-rabbit spear leaned against the wall. His skinning knife sat in its sheath. The pouch of sharpened flint stones rested beside his bed. He picked one, testing its weight.
"I'll reduce their numbers with this throwing daggers. Aim for their wings. Ground them before they can reach me."
He set the flint aside and turned his attention to the flowers.
“For the flower. The hallucinogen and sleeping pollen is dangerous.”
He looked around the cave, searching for materials. His eyes landed on the pile of rabbit pelts. He remembered about his lesson in university. About contaminant in the air. Dangerous substance. Bacteria. Virus.
"Mask. Gas mask of course is preferable. But I know I can use the alternative. Damp cloth can trap particles. Not perfect, but better than nothing."
He took a strip of leather and folded it into a rough mask shape. He added layers of fur on the inside, then soaked the whole thing in water. The damp material would catch the pollen before it reached his lungs.
"Primitive. But it might give me enough time."
He set the mask aside to dry and lay down on his rug. Tomorrow, he would prove that he was ready to leave this forest. He closed his eyes and let the soldier's sleep take him.
***
Hyoren woke to grey light filtering through the cave entrance. He crossed to the wall and added another mark. Thirty lines now. Thirty days in this forest.
"Today will be my last day in this cave. Tomorrow, I embark for civilization."
He gathered his gear. Spear. Knife. Several sharpened flint daggers tucked into his belt. The damp mask. His water skin. Strips of dried meat.
"Before that… I need to settle the score."
He left the cave and headed south.
The terrain was familiar now. His Forest Walker skill guided him effortlessly through the undergrowth. No surprises. No ambushes. Just steady progress through the forest.
Two hours later, he reached the lake. The water still glowed faintly. The air was thick with it—Magic.
He crouched behind a bush and surveyed the scene. There were three flower monsters in the lakeside. A large core in the center where the pollen was released.
"I don't need to wipe them all out. I only need to prove I can deal with the most dangerous monsters in this forest."
He focused on the closest flower.
"Those flower monsters. One meter tall. Wide blue petals. Thick stems. Sparse leaves. Should be hard to slash. But the big core in the center... that's the weak point. The part where the hole exists to eat victims."
His eyes swept the area around the flower.
"Dragonflies. Fifty centimeters long. Needle-like bodies. Three of them."
He let out a breath.
"Good. If there were four, I don't know how I'd deal with them. But three should be manageable."
He retrieved his mask and soaked it in the lake water. The cool dampness seeped into the fur and leather. He pressed it against his face and tied the straps behind his head.
The world became slightly muffled. His breath came warm and wet against the material.
He waited. Watched the wind.
A breeze stirred the leaves, shifting direction. The pollen from the nearest flower began drifting away from him.
"Now!" He charged.
The dragonflies noticed him immediately. Their wings buzzed to life. They turned toward him.
He grabbed two flint daggers from his belt.
"Take this!"
He hurled the first dagger. It spun through the air and struck true—piercing the wing of the lead dragonfly. The creature spiraled down, crashing into the ground.
He threw the second. It missed, sailing past the second dragonfly.
"Tch..." he reached for his spear.
"One missed."
The two remaining dragonflies dove toward him.
He swung his horned-rabbit spear in a wide arc. The blade caught the second dragonfly mid-flight, bisecting it cleanly. Two halves fell to the ground, twitching. He turned toward the third—
"Oh shit. The flower."
He'd forgotten. While he dealt with the dragonflies, the flower had been pulsing. Releasing more and more pollen into the air. The air around him was thick with it.
"I can't take too much time."
His mask helped. But he could feel it—the pollen creeping through the gaps. His lungs burned. His head swam.
"Damn. The pollen. I'm starting to feel sick."
He made a decision.
He pivoted and focused inward. His magic core responded to his call. He directed it downward, into his legs—Magic Manipulation.
His legs burned with power. Enhanced. Strengthened beyond normal limits. He jumped.
His enhanced legs launched him into the air, far higher than any normal human could reach. He soared above the dragonfly, above the pollen cloud, his body arcing toward the flower.
He thrust his spear downward as he fell. Gravity added momentum to his strike.
“Take thissss!!!”
The horned-rabbit tip pierced the flower's core and burst through the other side. The flower shuddered violently. Its petals curled inward. The pulsing stopped. It withered.
The pollen began to dissipate. He landed beside the dying flower, his enhanced legs absorbing the impact. The third dragonfly was still buzzing toward him.
He didn't waste time. He thrust his spear backward, catching the creature mid-flight. The needle-body impaled itself on his blade.
He yanked the spear free and rushed to the fallen dragonfly—the one he'd grounded with his first throw. It struggled to rise, its damaged wing twitching. He crushed it with his boot.
"Haah... haah..."
He stood among the carnage, breathing hard. His heart pounded. He pulled off his mask, gulping fresh air.
"This was nerve-wracking. I almost lost. If I wasn't Level 5. If I was slower. If I didn't have Magic Manipulation to enhance myself..."
The adrenaline began to recede. His breath evened out. His heart rate slowed.
Then he felt he absorbed the dragonflies essence.
"This dragonfly. Two experience points each. They're not that dangerous alone. But the combo with the flower is what makes them deadly."
He crouched and examined the body.
"No useful parts either. The claws are sharp, but I don't know what to do with them."
He went closer to the withered flower. And absorbed the essence. It was big. Bigger than goblin.
“Woah. This feeling… Five experience points? So this mean the flower is level 5. No wonder its so dangerous.”
He turned toward the withered flower.
He approached it carefully, his knife ready. The core was destroyed—his spear had done its job well. The pollen sacs remained, but they were dormant now. He left them alone. Better not to risk accidentally releasing whatever remained inside.
But the magic stone—he cut open the flower's base and found it.
"Good. Bigger than goblin stones."
Then something else caught his eye. The hollow space around the core was intact. And it was filled with liquid. Nectar.
He dipped a finger in and tasted it.
"Whoa."
The sweetness hit his tongue first—honey mixed with something else. Something that spread warmth through his body.
"This is so sweet. And what is this feeling?"
The warmth spread through his limbs. His muscles felt stronger. More energized. It reminded him of something.
"It feels like when I use Magic Manipulation to enhance my body."
He stared at the nectar.
"This nectar. Is it a buffing potion? I need to gather this."
He emptied his waterskin, pouring out the water onto the ground. Then he carefully collected the nectar, scooping it into the container.
“That’s done. Now I need to check how long this buff can last.”
The flower still had some in the hollow but his waterskin was already full. He sipped more from the hollow. Then he tried to move a bit. After a while the buff receded
“Roughly 15 minutes enhancement from about cup of nectar? This is good.”
He then looked at the leftover nectar in the hollow.
"It's a waste, but I don't have another container. And I can't carry more with me. I'll treat this as a trump card. A liquid to make me stronger when I need it."
He scanned the lake one more time. The other two flowers remained, pulsing in the distance. The other dragonflies buzzed around them. But he'd proven what he needed to prove.
He could handle the dangers of this forest. He turned and headed back toward his cave.
***
That night, Hyoren sat by the fire and took inventory of everything he owned. Tomorrow, he would leave this place. He needed to be ready.
He spread his supplies across the cave floor, sorting them into piles.
"My leather bag."
He picked up the pouch he'd crafted from rabbit hide. It was crude but functional, stitched with creeping vine thread.
"Packed with smoked rabbit meat and melopple."
He counted the strips of meat. Enough for several days, if he rationed carefully. The melopple would provide hydration and variety.
"I should also bring some resin and rope vine."
He added the materials to his pack. The resin could be used for repairs, for sealing wounds, for crafting. The rope vine was versatile—bindings, snares, construction. Both had proven useful during his time in the forest.
He set the bag aside and reached for his weapons.
“Next, I need to make sure my weapon is in perfect condition.”
He picked up his horned-rabbit spear. The shaft was smooth from use, worn by his grip. He ran his finger along the edge, testing it.
Still keen. No chips. No cracks.
"Good."
He drew his skinning knife. The obsidian blade had been crafted from stone he'd found near the river. It had served him well—skinning rabbits or squirrel, cutting leather, crafting tools. He checked the edge against his thumb. Sharp. Sturdy.
He sheathed the knife and reached for his belt. The loops he'd crafted held four sharpened flint daggers—throwing weapons he'd used. He checked each one, running his fingers along the edges.
"Still sharp, good."
He tucked them back into place.
His waterskin came next. He unstoppered it and checked the contents.
"Filled. I know I'll be walking near the river, but I might need it for emergency."
He thought about the route he'd take. Following the river downstream would lead to civilization eventually. But there could be dangers along the way. Creatures he hadn't encountered. Situations where he couldn't stop to find water. Better to have it and not need it.
He reached for his second waterskin—the one filled with nectar from the flower monster. He'd tasted its effects firsthand. Strength. Energy. A temporary boost that could mean the difference between life and death. He secured it to his belt.
"Nectar-filled waterskin. Packed. A trump card if I need it."
Finally, he turned to the pile of magic stones.
He'd collected them over days of hunting. Goblin stones—small. Flower stones—larger. They sat in a small leather pouch, clinking softly when he moved them. He lifted the pouch, feeling the weight.
"These goblin magic stones and flower magic stones.I should bring them. They are so small and don't weigh much."
He thought about the fantasy stories he'd read. The games he'd played. Magic stones were always valuable. Currency. Crafting materials. Power sources.
"Based on fantasy tropes, they should have some use. Can be sold for money. I need something to start my new life."
He looked around the cave one last time.
The fire pit, blackened from use. The shelves he'd built from branches and stone. The pile of leather and bones he'd leave behind. The leather maps and logs he'd crafted—those he would take. Knowledge was power.
The calendar on the wall. Thirty marks. Thirty days of survival.
He'd arrived here helpless. Confused. Alone. A university student stranded in the middle of forest.
Now he was leaving as something else. A survivor. A fighter. Level 5, with skills and magic and the knowledge of how to use them. He lay down on his rug of pelts, staring at the ceiling. He closed his eyes.
"Tomorrow. Civilization."
For the last time, he let the soldier's sleep take him in this safe but lonely cave.
***
The morning of his thirty-first day arrived with grey light filtering through the cave entrance.
Hyoren stood. The dual suns cast long twin shadows across the stone floor—one gold, one silver—stretching toward the back of the cave where his old life lay in tatters.
He looked around the cave one last time before turning to the corner.
"There's still plenty of dried meat and unused leather."
He eyed the stores he'd accumulated.
"But I don't need to carry them. They'll burden me."
He thought about it for a moment.
"Let's make it my farewell gift to the monsters around here…"
He chuckled.
"To the monsters that fed me for a month."
He turned in a slow circle, taking in the cave one last time. Crude. Lonely. But it had been safe. It had been home.
He walked to the corner of the cave where he'd stashed the remnants of his old life. The pile was small—barely recognizable now.
His jeans lay in a heap, torn beyond repair. His university hoodie sat beside it. What remained was a stained, tattered mess.
His phone. A brick now. Dead since the first day. Useless.
His wallet. Still containing his student ID, his bank cards, a few coins. All worthless here.
"I can't even use these anymore. These will just remind me of my old life on Earth. Which I don't know if I'll ever get back."
He closed his eyes.
He'd spent thirty days trying not to think about it. About home. About the life he'd been torn from. The exams he'd never take. The graduation he'd never attend. The people who would never know what happened to him.
He opened his eyes.
"I need to face reality… I'm an inhabitant of this new world. Whatever its name is."
He thought about the stories he'd read. The novels where protagonists found portals back home. The games where the hero completed a quest and returned to their old life.
"Some fantasy depicts the protagonist traveling back to their old world."
He set the phone and wallet down on top of the ruined clothes.
"But I can't rely on that fact. This world might operate under a different system altogether."
He arranged the pile neatly. Clothes. Phone. Wallet. A monument to his past life.
"I should leave them here. As a mark. Proof that I lived in this cave."
He turned to his new gear. This was who he was now. Not a university student. Not a lost traveler. A survivor.
"Goodbye, cave. You were good to me for the last thirty days. Farewell."
He turned his back on the cave. On the remnants of his old life.
He walked out into the morning light.
The forest stretched before him—familiar trees, familiar paths, familiar dangers. But he wasn't staying. He was moving forward.
Following the river downstream.
Toward civilization.