Nikolai jumped sideways at the last second as the two-legged, boar-like creature charged past. It looked like someone had mashed together a pig and a land bird, giving it long, powerful legs with sharp claws, a signature snout, and massive tusks. Oh yeah—and feathers. Ugly, patchy feathers that made it look half-plucked, like someone had started a joke and never finished.

  The creature spun, wobbled slightly, then locked back onto him. Nikolai had the timing down now—this was the third one he’d fought, and the first two had taught him some hard lessons.

  It squealed and charged again. Nikolai sidestepped, grinning as Mind Wipe came off cooldown. The spell hit, and the creature froze mid-step, its eyes glazing over like someone had yanked the plug on its brain. Then it crashed, skidding across the dirt from sheer momentum.

  He sprinted over, slammed a knee onto the thick base of its neck, and pressed both hands to its scantily feathered back. Draining as hard as he could, he felt its lifeforce surge into him. The monster was already weakened after a prolonged fight, and moments later the color bled from its feathers, and the pigbird—as he’d taken to calling it—died.

  In one smooth motion, he drew his looting knife, activated it, and packed up the spoils into his already bulging rucksack.

  Nikolai stood, brushed himself off—not that it helped much—and smiled. Despite everything, once he’d gotten the hang of it, he’d begun having a grand ol’ time. He’d expected to be exhausted, starving, and frustrated after hours of fighting, but he felt fine. More than fine. Well, there was a bit of mental tiredness, but physically he was in top form.

  Draining a creature’s essence turned out to be pretty nourishing, meaning he didn’t strictly need food. He wanted food, sure, but as long as there were monsters to drain, he wouldn’t starve, the very life essence of his prey fueling him.

  The real problem was his bag—it was nearly full. He barely managed to squeeze in the bundle of feathers he’d looted. Leaving loot behind meant leaving money behind, and that sat wrong with him.

  Which meant he needed to get out of this damn forest—fast.

  Last night, he’d slept in a goddamn tree, using string from his wrapped meat to tie himself to a thick branch. That was uncomfortable enough, but waking up to something nibbling his fingers? Infinitely worse. Had he not reflexively cast Mind Wipe in sheer panic, he might have lost a few fingers. The spell made the little larva-thing freeze, then tumble from the tree, splattering on the rocks below.

  After that, Nikolai had moved spots. Not that it helped—he barely slept anyway.

  He had traveled quite far by now, and while Drain kept him energized, there was a mental weariness he couldn’t quite shake. He briefly considered using Soothe on himself but hesitated. What if it dulled his reflexes? If something attacked, he couldn’t afford to be sluggish.

  No, better to stay sharp and maybe get some real rest later.

  As he walked, he instinctively pulled the shadows around himself. It didn’t offer any real protection, but it felt like it did—a comforting blanket of darkness. He had no way to measure it, but over the past day or so, the more he used his runes, the more efficient they seemed to become.

  Was he getting stronger? Or were the runes themselves evolving? Either way, he could now cast five spells in quick succession before needing Minor Essence Drain to top himself up. That was almost a 50% increase since yesterday—huge progress in his book. He’d take any gain he could get.

  Something else had changed, too. It was subtle, vague, but it was there—a strange awareness of his surroundings. Not precise enough to pinpoint enemies, but a sense of danger before an attack.

  It wasn’t perfect, but he could feel a faint flare of mana when monsters were nearby. That little edge had saved his life more than once—dropping flat just before something tried to take his head off, or sidestepping a charging pigbird at the last second.

  If he could refine this sense, maybe even extend its range, it could become a real advantage.

  Grinning at the thought, he quickened his pace. The trees were thinning now, the forest growing sparser. The edge had to be close.

  Before long, sunlight broke through the canopy, and damn, it was a beautiful day. Nikolai smiled to himself, enjoying the warmth and the slight breeze ruffling his hair.

  Then, as he stepped out of the trees, his breath caught. Rolling hills and meadows stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with cultivated fields and—wait. People?

  He blinked, doing a double take. Sure enough, a woman stood not thirty meters away, working the fields. Their eyes met. Nikolai flashed her a bright smile and gave a small wave.

  Her reaction was… unexpected.

  A shrill scream split the air. The woman dropped everything and bolted in the opposite direction like her life depended on it.

  Nikolai opened his mouth to call out, then sighed and slumped where he stood.

  “Bloody hell... Well, at least I found people. Humans, even.”

  Shaking his head, he started walking, keeping a calm pace in the direction she’d run. There had to be a village or something that way, right? She wouldn’t just run into nowhere.

  That question was answered sooner than expected.. The distant sound of hooves reached his ears, followed by a rising cloud of dust. Ah, shit.

  Before he had time to think, an armored man on horseback burst into view, spear in hand. The guy looked straight out of a medieval story—chainmail, steel, long blond hair flowing dramatically in the wind.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Nikolai couldn’t help but grin.

  Okay, that’s pretty damn cool.

  Raising a hand in greeting, he opened his mouth to speak—then hesitated.

  The rider wasn’t slowing down. In fact, he was speeding up.

  Nikolai frowned. Uh… shouldn’t he be stopping?

  Then the man’s face came into focus. A mask of grim determination.

  Then the spear lowered.

  Nikolai blinked. Wait. Is he actually going to—?

  He had a moment of dumbfounded panic. The horse bore down on him at full speed, the spearhead aimed dead center at his chest.

  At the last second, he tried to dodge—and failed miserably.

  Their eyes met, and on instinct, Nikolai cast Mind Wipe.

  The rider’s expression went slack, his grip on the reins loosening—right before he toppled sideways off the saddle.

  Unfortunately, the spear was still very much in motion.

  With all the momentum of a goddamn missile, the spear slammed into Nikolai, carrying him off his feet and hammering him into the dirt.

  Pain exploded through his body.

  Then—blackness.

  Nikolai’s eyes fluttered open to the sound of arguing. A woman was berating someone—it sounded intense—but his head was still too fuzzy to make anything out.

  He was in pain. Tremendous pain. He immediately activated Minor Heal, channeling it through the hand on his stomach. The relief was immediate, though the healing wasn’t. His head cleared, but the pain stayed sharp and intense.

  From the cracks and pops deep inside, he was certain he’d broken something—probably several things.

  “He fucking charged him without a second thought, Mathew! Give me the potion, he doesn’t have long!” the woman said.

  Nikolai looked up through half-lidded eyes, his vision still blurry. She had long black hair, but he could barely make out her face. She was looking away, her hands pressing firmly on his chest.

  “Daryll hasn’t gotten up, Milani. He looks pretty damn broken over there—shouldn’t we…?” a man began, but the woman cut him off.

  “No, Mathew. Daryll can bloody well die for all I care! The idiot attacked the boy without hesitating for a second. Give me the potion!”

  “I really think we should… uh, his hand is glowing. Should it be glowing?” the man asked.

  “What? What are you—” She turned to Nikolai, then looked down at his hand. She groaned. “Shit, he’s awake! And he’s… he’s a fucking healer, Mathew! Hey, can you hear me? Are you awake?”

  Nikolai groaned and managed to choke out, “Yeah… I’m fine. Probably.”

  The woman—apparently named Milani—moved her hand, and the gaping hole in Nikolai’s shoulder had stopped bleeding and slowly begun closing up. His reserves were draining fast; he hadn’t had to mend this much damage before, and he was barely hanging on.

  Milani sighed in relief. “Okay… you’re alive, that is— I’m so sorry he attacked you! Mathew, go see to Daryll. Don’t use the potion on him!”

  “I really think he might need it, Milani,” the man said reluctantly.

  “He deserves some suffering for his actions. Now go!” she snapped, then turned back to Nikolai.

  His head pulsed with pain, and afraid he might pass out again, he stopped the spell. The damage had been alleviated some at least, but everything still hurt. He could feel his injuries—the internal bruises, fractures—and he was pretty sure he wasn’t in danger of dying. Not right now anyways..

  Milani touched the now slightly scarred skin where the spear had pierced him and seemed relieved. “It’s healed. You did good. Can you sit?”

  Nikolai opened his eyes and met hers. They were a brilliant green, and for a long moment, he just stared into them.

  He nodded slowly. “Probably. But I still think something’s broken. I couldn’t heal all the damage in one go.”

  Milani gently helped him sit and moved to let him lean against her chest. She supported his weight and pressed something to his lips. Liquid squirted into his mouth. “Drink. It’ll help.”

  Nikolai tasted the warm water and drank greedily. He’d found a small stream the day before but hadn’t had fluids for most of that day since running out.

  “All right, that’s enough. Don’t drink too much right now. Pace yourself.”

  He sighed in relief, the water clearing his throat and making talking easier.

  “What the hell happened? That armored idiot tried to kill me!”

  Milani growled. “Idiot is apt. He saw the screaming woman and just took off without a fucking thought in his head. I’m really sorry!”

  Nikolai wanted to curse but took a deep breath to calm himself. Getting attacked and partially eaten by monsters was one thing—but getting attacked by people? That felt different. There was intent behind it, and that intent was him dying.

  “Why?” he asked.

  The woman hesitated. “Well, if you really want to know—you don’t exactly look… nice.”

  Nikolai opened his mouth to protest, then looked down at himself. His clothes were filthy, heavily bloodstained—both fresh and old—and he probably smelled like death. He hadn’t even considered that.

  “Right. Yeah, okay. I see your point.”

  She chuckled lightly—a beautiful sound. “What happened to you? And more importantly, why were you in the forest alone?”

  Nikolai briefly considered telling her the truth—but only briefly. Then he thought back to a few conversations he’d had with Moulin. They’d come up with a sort of backstory for him, one that made sense and wouldn’t cause too much fuss.

  “Well, my mentors sort of dumped me in there as an exercise, I guess. Or perhaps just a lesson—I don’t know. I haven’t been there long, less than two days,” he explained.

  “You look like that after less than two days? What were they thinking, sending someone inexperienced in there?” Milani asked, sounding genuinely offended.

  He chuckled—then stopped immediately as it hurt like hell. “Yeah, well, I guess they thought it was time for some practical experience.”

  Nikolai looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw a rather overweight man approach. He wore tight leather armor inlaid with metal rings, big heavy boots, and had a massive crossbow slung across his back. He was clean-shaven, with dark, greasy—or maybe just sweaty—hair that hung past his ears. He somehow looked both tough and uncertain.

  He coughed. “Uh, so, Milani… I think Daryll might need that potion. His arm’s sort of bending the wrong way, and his breathing’s rather labored.”

  He glanced down at Nikolai, resting comfortably against Milani’s chest, then back to her face. “Seeing as this bloke seems all right, could I…?”

  Milani sighed. “Fine. Give him the potion—and make sure to set the arm properly first! He’s a fucking idiot, but I don’t want him dying on us.”

  The big man smiled and bowed slightly before hurrying off to help his companion. A ways off, the horse grazed lazily, utterly unconcerned with its rider’s plight.

  Nikolai shifted into a slightly more comfortable position and smiled. Despite everything—his aching body, the near-death experience—lying against this woman was really quite comfortable.