“Hah… hah… hah…” Glenn heaved, undecided whether he should be happy or terrified. Father Albenas, the nightmarish eldritch entity that almost ate him, died. Or so it seemed.

  “Fuck…” he blurted out as he tried to extricate himself out of the late Father’s embrace.

  The disgusting, sticky tentacles adhered to his clothes, making it difficult for him to escape. Saliva, blood, and… whatever that liquid was didn’t make the task any easier. Nonetheless, Glenn managed to break free, not without much effort.

  “Ugh… So it’s dead… For sure, right?” Glenn mumbled, wincing while worms ate through the monster’s corrupted flesh.

  He turned away to save himself from puking his guts out again. Sitting down, he drew a deep breath, checking his shaking hands. He clenched both of them, shivering, before quickly examining himself for any injuries.

  The area where the tongue grabbed him burned with vivid pain. His shirt sizzled with a growing hole, revealing bleeding blisters beneath. Glenn hurriedly took off his tunic, gritting his teeth tightly and almost screaming. He watched in horror as his body struggled to fight off the skirmish’s lasting effects. Small wounds closed with extreme difficulty.

  This… magical healing… Why isn’t it working as well as before? Glenn worriedly searched himself for more battle scars. His remaining scratches and abrasions refused to patch themselves.

  “Shit… Those powers were only temporary?” Glenn questioned. “Damn it!”

  “In what hell did I fucking land?” he muttered before pushing himself up and turning back towards the dead creature. Braving his disgust and the scent of rotting meat, he reached for the sword.

  “Can’t give up the only thing I have to defend myself, can I?” Glenn snickered.

  The hilt was covered in dark blood and stuck to his hand. He pulled, trying his best to ignore the questionable squishy noise.

  Gush!

  He gasped and took a step back as he retrieved his weapon, shielding his eyes from the black blood… He hurriedly retreated, keeping a safe distance between him and the oozing corpse.

  “Man… This isn’t getting any better, is it?” Grimacing, he flicked sludge and flesh from himself. Oh, and there’s even a feeler!

  A bath would do him a great favor, be it to boost morale or so he wouldn’t smell like the tastiest treat in the whole forest. He examined his sword, frowning when he realized the steel was now stained purple and slightly corroded.

  “Did the blood somehow…?”

  The weapon didn’t look capable of cutting anything, the edges dull due to the corrosion. Perhaps it’s only cosmetic damage, and it still cuts well?

  Glenn hacked a nearby vine, but the blade slipped harmlessly against the fibers. Glenn groaned.

  It didn’t matter. It was all he had to defend himself. He couldn’t afford to be picky.

  “A dull edge is still better than a stick… But shit, I’d rather have a sharp one, man…” Glenn shook his head, saddened.

  Hopefully, the blade wouldn’t break in two the next time he used it. No, if he hoped for anything, it was to not get into any more fights. That would be nice.

  After sheathing the sword in the scabbard on his back, he glanced around the forest.

  “I need to clean this shit up…” Glenn said, listening attentively for the sound of flowing water. The fact that he had just slayed some kind of hellish—probably once human—monster was still disturbing him, but he couldn’t spare the time thinking about ethics and whatnot, could he?

  Glenn was about to leave when he suddenly remembered.

  The Holy Root!

  He quickly searched through the darkness, smiling when he found the root that unexpectedly saved his life. While building a little cairn next to it, he tried his best to ignore the awkwardness. Once he was done, he whispered a quick “thank you” and stepped away. He wasn’t going to begin his adventure in this new world by not upholding his promises!

  With steady steps, Glenn resumed his pace towards what he hoped was the mountain, concentrating on the sounds of the forest. A rat squeaked, a bat flew past him, a wolf howled in the distance… And finally, he heard flowing water. He barely accelerated before remembering that there was a very large probability of something else being out there trying to eat him.

  “Yeah, let’s stay calm and composed for now. Calm and composed…” he mumbled through his teeth as he pushed through thorns.

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  Once at the river, he paused by a bush in search of any apparent predators. The coast seemed clear, and he stealthily walked up to the water, gathering a handful to splash on his face. It was freezing but refreshing—like the wind on a cool autumn night.

  Glenn gazed into the stream, finding it translucent but not pristine enough to ease his worries. It would have to do. He absolutely needed to clean himself of all the blood, mud, and slime. His clothes were probably the perfect bait to attract every predator in the woods.

  First and foremost, fire was crucial. If he was going to jump in the frigid river, he’d rather do it with a heat source nearby. So, Glenn gathered moss and wood to build a campfire. He made a circle with large stones and placed the sticks upwards. Once he finished, Glenn squinted at his unremarkable wooden pyramid.

  Not my finest handiwork, but it’ll get the job done.

  The blood moon cast the river’s surroundings in a crimson hue. Thanks to it, Glenn could barely see the difference between normal stones, other normal stones, and… Flint!

  Glenn knelt in front of the unkindled bundle as he drew his dull sword from his sheath. He sighed.

  This is going to take a long time, isn’t it?

  On those wise thoughts, he struck the flint against the corroded edge, creating a few sparks. He directed them towards the dry moss, but it simply wouldn’t light. After half an hour of effort, he stopped and wondered whether he should just give up and throw the little piece of shit far away.

  He smashed the damned rock against the sword once more. Sparks flew and landed on the kindling, igniting a tiny ember. Glenn’s eyes widened, and he blew carefully on the tinder to grow it into a larger flame. The night’s breeze sent a shiver down his neck, but he ignored it. After a few minutes of concentration, he managed to start the fire.

  “Phew…” Glenn sighed in relief as he fed a few more branches to the campfire. He then glanced back at the stream and released a slow, shaky breath.

  “Here we go then…” He took his clothes off and rolled them under his arm before jumping into the river, gasping from the cold.

  “Ooohhh, sh- sh- shit. It’s colder than I thought!” Glenn’s teeth clattered as he scrubbed his garments and body of filth.

  He almost let out a chuckle, feeling slightly more human now that he wasn’t so damned dirty. But the glacial water stopped him from doing so.

  Instead, he shook like a leaf.

  After a thorough but much-needed bath, Glenn jumped out of the river, completely naked and shivering. He snuggled next to the blaze, cursing at the night’s freezing wind. His clothes would probably dry faster if they were on him rather than rolled up in a ball.

  He slipped the rags back on and rubbed his arms to warm himself up.

  “T- the b- bathing did feel good…” Glenn muttered, “…N- not t- the b- best t- temperature, though…”

  His heavy eyelids closed by themselves. Before he nodded off, he jolted awake.

  No. Shit! I can’t sleep now! Fuck hypothermia. Glenn bit his cheek, using the pain to wake himself up.

  If there was one place he couldn’t fall asleep, it was by a water source—barely hidden. The next monster he’d meet would likely be the last.

  Glenn held his hands above the fire, warming them. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that food was also a problem he needed to solve. Alongside many others, of course.

  He forced himself up.

  “I’ll dry if I keep moving,” he whispered.

  Pushing away the urge to lie next to the campfire and sleep, he searched through the forest. He scavenged for anything that looked edible, pulling roots, wild vegetables, and a few mushrooms. Meat would have been nice, but…

  Perhaps I could hunt?

  He shook his head. Theoretically, he knew how to make traps, but he wasn’t planning on staying around too long. Once his clothes dried, he’d move towards the mountain to find civilization.

  Glenn brought the products of his scavenging back to camp. He used the light from the flames to give them a closer look.

  Hmm… This mushroom has a red cap with white spots covering it… Not that one then… Maybe these brown ones are okay to eat? That root looks like… a root. And that thing… Is it a cucumber? But it’s blue…

  “I’ll just throw away the obviously poisonous mushroom and cook the rest,” Glenn decided.

  He sharpened twigs and skewered the vegetables and fungi before placing them over the fire. While waiting patiently, he hugged himself. His wet hair stuck to the back of his neck, causing him an occasional shiver.

  Suddenly, a nearby bush stirred. Glenn stopped breathing, hoping he might have hallucinated. But then the leaves shook harder. He slowly unsheathed his sword as silently as he could and drew a deep breath. Fighting yet another nightmarish creature wasn’t his first choice, but if he had to, he would.

  Survival before all else.

  A small, white form jumped out of the brush. Glenn lunged forwards; his weapon hit something hard like bone. His eyes opened wide, and he blinked a few times, wondering if he was dreaming.

  Impaled on his corroded blade was a rabbit. A fat bunny that was only asking to be eaten.

  “Is that my reward? Hah,” he chuckled in disbelief.

  The tension in his shoulders released. How did he even stab the rabbit? He never used a sword before tonight, and yet… his arm instinctively knew where to swing.

  “Well, whatever.” Glenn dismissed those thoughts. That’ll do for some meat.

  A few minutes later, a poorly skinned rabbit cooked atop the fire. Glenn washed the fresh blood off his hands in the river, salivating at the smell of grilled meat. Although he had little to no experience in butchering, he admired his accomplishment.

  “I could feel sad about the bunny…” Glenn muttered when his stomach grumbled. He nodded, agreeing with his hunger.

  “…Or I could eat meat. I’d rather eat meat.”

  He wondered whether he should drink the water. In the end, he decided against it. Once he climbed the mountain, he’d be able to quench his thirst closer to the source.

  A crackle caught Glenn’s attention as fat drizzled and fell into the flames.

  It had been what, an hour? Two? He couldn’t tell.

  And yet, he already slayed a ghoul, a tentacle fiend, and a rabbit.

  Quite the bloody adventure, isn’t it?