As Arthas lay draped over the cooling, sapphire-blue thorax of the spider, his lungs burning with every breath, the familiar chime cut through the silence of the Strixen woods.
[Ding! You have Leveled Up.]
A red hologram flickered into existence, casting a crimson glow over the blue ichor staining his hands.
[ SYSTEM INTERFACE: STATUS ]
User: Arthas Domino | Age: 23
Level: 2 (0/150 EXP)
Class: [UNASSIGNED]
HP: 34/60 (Injured) | MP: 20/20
Stat Points Available: 5
"Five points..." Arthas mused, his voice a low rasp. "It really is a game. I half-expected to have to scavenge for these or buy them from that 'Market' I saw on the map."
He went to close the screen, but a new prompt pulsed with a golden light, demanding his attention.
[Ding! Evolution Path Detected. Do you wish to follow the HP Development or MP Development?]
Arthas paused, his finger hovering in the air. He clicked the descriptions, and the data expanded:
HP Development: +50% Max HP / +10% Max MP (60~90 HP / 20~22 MP)
MP Development: +50% Max MP / +10% Max HP (20~30 MP / 60~66 HP)]
"The hell?" he cursed softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. The jagged scar on his eyebrow throbbed. He looked at his current health, 34 points. He was bleeding, battered, and sitting in a forest that wanted him dead. Every survival instinct he'd honed in the Camp screamed at him to take the HP. It was the safe bet. It was the "tank" move.
But then his eyes drifted to his S-Rank trait: Primal Perception. The active effect, the one that would let him see weaknesses and boost his physical stats by 20%, cost 10 MP per second.
"I'm being hasty," he whispered to the shadows. "HP is the right answer for now, but MP is the answer for the end. My passive gives me 20% recovery. If I can just stay out of sight long enough to heal..."
He took a deep breath and tapped MP Development.
A strange, cooling sensation washed over his mind, like a drop of peppermint oil hitting a raw nerve. The fog of fatigue lifted slightly.
[ Attributes Updated ]
HP: 40/66 (Minor healing applied during evolution)
MP: 30/30
Stat Points: 5-0 (1 to Speed, 2 to Strength, 2 to Durability)
[ Final Metrics ]
Strength: 11 | Speed: 13 | Stamina: 10 | Mental: 8 | Durability: 9
The warm current of the stat injection flowed through his limbs, subtle but grounding. He felt his skin grow slightly tougher, his bones more dense. He tore a strip of fabric from his ruined white hoodie, cinching it tight around the puncture wound on his abdomen.
"Let's go," he grunted.
He grabbed the spider by its serrated mandibles with his left hand and gripped the sled's wooden handle with his right. He began to move, but he hadn't gone more than twenty paces when his ears twitched.
Crunch. Dry leaves. Heavy footsteps. Multiple sets.
Arthas didn't hesitate. He dropped the spider and the sled silently into the tall, obsidian grass and vanished into a dense thicket of ferns. He lowered his breathing, slowing his heart rate until he was nothing more than a shadow among shadows.
"Kenny, are you sure you heard movement around here?" A man's voice, deep and gravelly. Middle-aged, seasoned, and cautious.
"Yes! I did!" a younger, frantic voice replied. That was Kenny, likely a teenager, dripping with the kind of nervous sweat that gets people killed in a danger zone.
"Relax, Unc Tom. Go easy on him," a third voice chimed in. It was smooth, feminine, and carried a casual indifference that suggested she was either very brave or very stupid. "This place is a maze."
"We need to be careful," Tom's voice returned, sharper now. "It might be called a 'game,' but if you treat it as one, you will die, Christy."
Arthas watched through the leaves. Four figures emerged. Tom was a sturdy man in a tactical vest; Christy was younger, alert; Kenny was a shaking mess. But it was the fourth figure that caught Arthas's attention, a woman who stood slightly apart, her gaze sweeping the clearing with a terrifying, predatory stillness.
"*Whistle*... look what we've got here," Christy said, spotting the abandoned haul.
"Those are..." Kenny started.
"Dead beasts," the fourth woman interrupted. Her voice was like a blade, cold and heavy. She walked toward the spider's corpse, the sound of her boots deliberate on the soil. She nudged the blue carcass with her foot, flipping it over to reveal the shredded underbelly.
"A sled, huh?" she noted. "From the looks of it, someone butchered these goblins, dragged them here, and was ambushed by the spider."
"Judging by the wounds, it's a knife or a dagger," Tom added, squatting by the goblins. "Same weapon for all of them."
Arthas's grip tightened on his black dagger. These two are good, he thought. Too good.
"Then that brings the question," Tom said, his eyes scanning the treeline almost looking right at Arthas's hiding spot. "A monster attacked the person who carried the goblins. The spider was killed. So where is the person?"
"Either he died... or was eaten by another monster... I guess?" Kenny offered, his voice cracking.
The silent woman stood up, her eyes locking onto the thicket where Arthas was crouched. A small, knowing smile played on her lips.
"Well," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "You've been listening for a while now. How about you come out and tell us yourself?"