Chapter 8: Across The River
The mist hung in thick, grey curtains, clinging to the air and blurring the world into a featureless haze. Tyler moved with measured steps, his fingers gripped tight around the shaft of his spear.
Every rustle in the brush or distant vibration in the soil sent him pivoting away, veering into the silence to stay clear of whatever made the sound. He had passed through areas where the fog seemed to carry the weight of footsteps or the low drone of murmurs, but he kept his gaze forward.
A cold tension sat in his chest, driving him to increase his pace whenever the shadows shifted.
Slowly, the environment began to change. Golden rays of light sliced through the upper layers of the fog, striking the grey veil with a sudden, sharp brilliance. Yet, the mist remained, swirling in stubborn pockets around the trunks of the dense trees. Tyler reached out with his free hand, shoving aside a heavy branch. The leaves felt damp and cool against his skin.
"The mist doesn't make any sense," he murmured, his voice sounding thin in the heavy air. "It’s so persistent."
He tried to swallow, but his throat was a desert of dry, tight skin. It felt as though sandpaper was being dragged across his windpipe with every breath. The healing light of the level-up had closed his wounds and knit his flesh back together, but it had done nothing for the hollow, gnawing ache in his stomach. The emptiness felt dangerous, a deep-seated craving that made his muscles feel light and unsteady.
*I need to eat something. I’m so hungry. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry before.*
He paused, his boots sinking slightly into the soft earth. A new scent brushed against his nostrils, the heavy, cool smell of damp soil and stagnant moisture. It was the unmistakable aroma found only near a river or a well.
Tyler recognized the scent. It was a memory of the river back in his hometown, sharp and familiar. He pushed forward with a quicker stride, the jagged remains of his clothing catching on the leaves as he hurried through the thicket.
He stepped into an open space where thick grass reached up to his knees. The river lay directly ahead. A faint smile touched his face, and a low, breathless chuckle escaped him. He released his grip on the spear; the weapon dissolved into a faint blue light and returned to his inventory before it could strike the earth.
"I made it," he whispered.
He knelt by the bank, the damp ground soaking into his pants, and leaned over the water. The river was wider and deeper than he had anticipated, yet the water was remarkably clear. He could see all the way to the bottom, where the bed was composed of solid rock similar to the stones found on a mountain peak. The current moved with a slow, steady calm toward the left.
He dipped his cupped hands into the flow. The liquid was biting cold against his skin. As the first swallow hit his parched throat, he could not stop. He scooped more of the water, drinking again and again, the coldness numbing his hands and throat. He continued until his stomach felt heavy and tight.
He let out a long, slow exhale as he pushed himself back up to a standing position. *I feel so refreshed. I thought this might taste dirty, or at least like a wild river usually does. This tastes clean, like tap water.*
*I still feel hungry though,* Tyler thought, the hollow ache in his stomach returning the moment the coolness of the water faded. He let out a heavy sigh, looking back at the bank. *I made it to the river. That means I am close to the camp.*
He began to walk toward the right, moving against the river’s steady flow. "I know I’m close, but I don’t know exactly where I am exactly" he muttered, his eyes darting between the thick brush and the shifting grey fog. *If I’m right, the camp was further to the right while I was heading to the river. I must have strayed when I was avoiding those noises.*
He kept his pace measured, staying vigilant as he scanned the woods and the water. *I need to find a way to cross over. I can't jump; it's too wide.* He tilted his head back, searching for a tree tall enough to climb. He needed a vantage point to find a narrow stretch or a series of rocks he could use to reach the other side.
His gaze caught a tree standing slightly ahead of the others. He froze, his eyes widening at the sight. As he stepped toward it, the thick fog began to pull back, thinning and then vanishing entirely the closer he drew to the trunk. With the haze cleared, he could see the tree in sharp detail.
Long, vibrant green leaves draped from the branches, and clusters of dark purple fruits hung low from the limbs. The fruits were a deep, rich purple and possessed the distinct, rounded shape of a ripe mango.
*Food!* Tyler thought, a smile breaking across his face as he stared at the appetizing clusters. *It looks like a fruit. Is it edible?*
Tyler reached upward, his fingers straining toward the purple clusters, but the lowest fruit hung just out of reach. He pushed himself onto his toes, stretching his frame until his muscles tensed, but the gap remained. He took a sudden breath and leaped. His fingertips brushed against the smooth, warm skin of the fruit, causing it to dangle lightly on its stem, but it didn't fall.
*I can't reach for it,* he thought, landing back on the grass. *I'll just have to knock it down.*
The spear materialized in his hand with a faint, subtle glow. He gripped the shaft and swung the length of the weapon at the branch. The wood struck home, but the impact sent four of the fruits tumbling at once. They hit the ground with a heavy, wet impact.
Tyler looked at his weapon; the spearhead was instantly soaked in a dark, viscous purple juice. He turned his gaze to the grass. The fruits were incredibly fragile, three of them had splattered completely upon landing, the pulp spreading like overripe, rotten tomatoes. Only one remained relatively intact, though a slight tear in its peel allowed a steady stream of juice to spill onto the wet greenery.
*These fruits are too fragile,* he thought, reaching down.
The spear dissolved back into his inventory as he cupped the fruit in his palm. It felt surprisingly light. Before he could even bring it to his face, a sweet, heavy scent filled the air, reminiscent of artificial grape flavoring.
*I wonder what it tastes like. I hope it isn't poisonous.*
The thought was instantly followed by a sharp wince. Tyler's hand spasmed, and the fruit slipped, splattering into the grass and sending a spray of purple liquid in all directions.
"What the hell?" he barked.
His hand was stained a deep, bruised purple. A sudden, annoying irritation flared across his skin, a burning itch that seemed to crawl from the inside out.
*Shit,* he muttered, his breath catching.
He spun around and bolted for the river. Even in that short distance, the sensation intensified until it felt as though his hand were being pierced by hundreds of needles dipped in salt. He reached the bank and thrust his arm into the cold flow, scrubbing and rubbing at the purple stain with aggressive, frantic motions.
*It hurts,* he thought, gritting his teeth against the stinging heat.
He continued to wash until the sensation finally faded, leaving his skin raw but calm. He let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. As he lifted his hand from the water, he watched the last of the purple juice catch the current, dissolving into the clear river and disappearing completely.
Standing up he looked at his hand and the saw some goosebumps and what looked like small pimples. "What the hell is this thing" he muttered staring back at the fruits on the tree. He rubbed his wet hands on his pants as he walked back towards the tree again.
"I definitely could’ve died if I had eaten that," Tyler muttered, his voice heavy with a sigh of disappointment. "It's obviously Poisonous since it’s corrosive." He stared at the fruit splattered in the grass, the vibrant purple pulp still eating away at the green blades.
He checked his hand. The skin was raw and red, and a small interface manifested to show the cost of his curiosity: HP: 38/40.
*My HP decreased a little.* Tyler rested a hand on his chin, his eyes narrowing as an idea took hold. *Wait... I could actually use this to my advantage. If it's not food, I can use it as another weapon. I could throw it at a creature... but no, I'd have to hold it.*
The spear materialized in his hand . The spearhead was still coated in a glistening layer of the dark purple juice. *Maybe I can even... yeah, that’s right.* A grim smile spread across his face. *With this, even if a creature manages to dodge, even if I don't hit a vital spot, the strike will be poisonous.*
He turned back to the tree and swung the length of his spear, knocking several more of the clusters down to the forest floor. Nine of the fruits now lay in the grass; some had burst upon impact, while others remained whole. He focused his mind, and one by one, the fruits shimmered with a faint blue light and vanished.
The inventory panel appeared in his field of vision. A new square slot was occupied by a small icon, labeled: VENOM BLOOM ×9.
*Just like with extraction, I didn't have to touch them,* he thought, his gaze fixed on the display. *Oh, so they're just like the Crimson Fangs. Multiple of them can fit into one space. Nice.*
The panel dissolved. Tyler turned away from the tree, his focus returning to his primary goal. "I was just about to find the tallest tree I could," he said, his voice a low rasp.
He moved cautiously, scanning the canopy to his left and right. He walked a short distance until he spotted a trunk that rose higher than its neighbors, its thick branches looking sturdy enough for a rapid ascent. He hurried toward it and leaped, catching a low limb and hauling himself upward. He climbed with practiced efficiency until he broke through the upper leaves.
The fog wasn't as thick at this height, though it still clung to the lower branches in stubborn patches. He was relieved to see the river again, the water reflecting the golden light of the morning sun. He traced the bank with his eyes, following the curve of the water until he spotted a narrow section. A series of stones sat in the middle of the current, positioned so precisely they looked man-made.
*Right there,* he thought, his heart quickening. *It's so close.*
As he studied the crossing, he spotted a moving shape. His breath caught in his throat and he squinted, eyes straining to make out the details clouded by the thick fog. It was a figure, a human figure. The man was dressed in leather garments and was moving steadily away from the river, heading in the direction of the distant camp.
*A person! That's a person!*
Tyler felt a desperate urge to scream, to call out and end his isolation, but he clamped his jaw shut. *If I scream now, I could... alert monsters.*
The figure continued to walk, unaware of the eyes watching from the canopy. *What should I do? I should run. I should run after him. Yeah. I can catch up to him!*
Tyler dropped through the canopy, his weight shifting from limb to limb in a rapid, blurring descent. He leaped from the final branch, his feet hitting the soft earth with a heavy impact that sent him stumbling backward. He threw his arms out, catching his balance before his momentum could pull him down.
Without a second of hesitation, he bolted in the direction of the man he had seen. *I have to run faster. I don't want to lose him.*
The system interface manifested in the air beside him as he sprinted along the bank. His gaze locked onto his Agility points. Suddenly, a sharp displacement of air hissed past his head. Tyler dug his heels into the dirt, skidding and arching his back in a desperate, instinctive curve.
In that split second, a blue, translucent sphere shot through the space where his face had been. Its cold, rubbery surface grazed the bridge of his nose, leaving a damp trail before the creature plummeted into the river with a heavy disruption of the surface.
Tyler came to a full stop, his chest heaving as he stared at the water. He could see the slime's rounded shape settling toward the rocky bottom. He didn't wait to see if it would resurface. He pivoted and turned back to his path. *That was a slime. I can’t face it right now. That person, I have to reach them.*
The status panel flickered back into view. He focused his intent, pouring three of his points into Agility. The number ticked upward, settling at 24.
A sudden, sharp lightness surged through his legs. The ground beneath him seemed to lose its resistance, and the trees became a streaking blur as his speed intensified. *Come on,* he thought.
The crossing came into view. A small smile pulled at his lips, revealing his teeth against the cool morning air. *I made it to the crossing.*
Without slowing down he skidded onto the first of the precisely placed stones, his shoes striking the wet surfaces with rapid, rhythmic strikes. Tiny droplets of river water sprayed into the air with every step as he raced toward the opposite bank.
The fog had pulled away almost entirely, leaving the air sharp and the world clear. Tyler clenched his teeth as the wind whipped his hair back, the resistance pushing against his forehead with every yard he covered. He reached the far bank and kept running, though his leg muscles had begun to flare with a searing, steady heat. Beads of sweat broke across his brow, only to be instantly swept away by the force of his movement.
*If I don't catch up, who knows what might happen,* he thought, his chest heaving in ragged cycles. *I just hope I haven't lost the trail.*
His breath hitched, a small, desperate smile forming as the figure appeared in the distance, a tiny shape against the greenery.
The man was partially obscured by the dense brush ahead, but a new sensation suddenly cut through Tyler's focus. He heard a rhythmic, heavy pounding from the side. It was the familiar, drumming beat of hooves hitting the earth, but the sound wasn't aimed at him. It was emerging from the deep growth ahead, converging on the man’s position.
*Oh no,* he thought, panic flaring. *If it's that thing again... the Hexhorne...*
Then he saw the flash of a thick brown hide crashing through the undergrowth, splintering small branches as it barreled toward the traveler.
"Hey!" Tyler shouted, his voice straining against the wind. "Watch out!"
He yelled a second time, but the man didn't flinch. Tyler could now see him clearly: he wore a suit of fitted leather armor, reminiscent of historical attire, with a sword gripped in his left hand and a small bag resting at his waist.
"Hey!" Tyler tried once more, the sound lost in the distance. *Shit, he can't hear me.*
The Hexhorne was closing in, its head lowered for the strike. *I have to stop it. I have to help him.*
He ground his teeth together and forced his legs to move even faster. The heat in his muscles turned into an intense, white-hot burn, but he pushed past the limit. His heart hammered violently against his ribs as adrenaline flooded his system. He stopped trying to yell; every ounce of his energy and breath was now focused entirely on the sprint, his body straining under the sheer exertion of the chase.
*This thing’s too fast... Am I gonna make it in time?*
The thought raced through Tyler’s mind as he triggered the summon. The spear snapped into his palm, pulsing with a faint, blue light. The Hexhorn was closing the final gap. He pulled his arm back, his shoulder and back muscles bunching with the effort. He threw the weapon with every ounce of his remaining strength, a sharp, guttural grunt escaping his throat.
The spear sliced through the air, a dark streak against the morning light. It struck the Hexhorn’s flank, the sharp tip sinking deep into the thick, brown hide. The beast let out a shrill, piercing shriek of agony. Its legs buckled, and the weight of its momentum sent it skidding across the dirt, coming to a sudden, heavy stop just beside the traveler.
The man flinched, spinning around in a single, fluid motion. He stood frozen for a split second, his gaze darting from the downed monster to the person charging toward him.
Tyler tried to stop, but the loose twigs tangled in his shoelaces finally caught. His lead foot snagged, and his balance vanished. He pitched forward, tumbling onto the forest floor. He hit the ground hard, rolling through the grass and dirt until the world stopped spinning.
He let out a low groan, shaking his head to clear the sudden disorientation. As he pushed himself into a seated position, he watched the traveler. The man immediately stepped over the writhing Hexhorn and drove his sword into the creature's eye with a precise, clinical force. The beast gave a final shudder and went still.
*A sword?* Tyler thought, his eyes wide as he watched the man work.
The stranger turned toward him, his left hand still gripping the bloodied hilt of his weapon. A thick, leather eyepatch covered his left eye, and his remaining eye was sharp and calculating. As he stepped closer, a system panel manifested in the air above his head, the text stark and imposing:
HUMAN: LEVEL: 48