When I finally reached the treeline, I was not surprised to see the trees were massive like I had suspected. They were not quite redwood giants, but still enormous, easily averaging between one hundred and two hundred feet tall. Their branches spread out in wide layers, their long and thin needles reminding me of pine trees.

  That is where the similarities ended.

  The bark was strange, patterned like snakeskin with interlocking diamonds stacked one over another. It looked almost like the ringed growth you would see on a palm tree. The color was wrong as well. Instead of brown or gray, it had a burnt orange tone that seemed to catch the light in odd ways, like rusted metal left in the sun too long.

  Even with their unnatural bark, the trees provided plenty of shade. The forest floor was surprisingly open, with only a few patches of brush and very little undergrowth to block my path.

  The moment I stepped into the shadows, I felt how much the sun had been cooking me. By all rights, I should have been red and blistered after more than a day exposed without sunscreen. Normally, after only a few hours, people would already be cracking boiled lobster jokes.

  Yet my skin was not red at all. No burns, no peeling, just endless sweat soaking my clothes. I had already drained every drop of water I had carried, and I knew I would need to refill soon.

  At least the strange music had stopped. After I angled my route so not to head straight toward the forest, the sound faded away. I hoped that meant I had left it behind, and not that it had simply gone quiet for some darker reason. Either way, the silence was an improvement.

  The shade wrapped around me, and the air grew thicker and heavier with humidity. It smelled clean and sharp, almost like moss and wet stone. New sounds filled the background. Birds called from somewhere high above, their voices deeper and heavier than the trills of normal songbirds. Insects buzzed near the ground, but they did not chirp or croak as the cricket things did in the plains. Instead their noises were steady, low vibrations that reminded me of scavengers humming over a carcass. Fortunately, none of them seemed interested in me.

  What still unsettled me was what I did not see. There were no squirrels darting across branches, no rabbits slipping through the brush, and nothing larger moving in the distance. I found old signs that animals had once been here, but still nothing seemed fresh.

  That made me wonder if someone else had already done what I had when I cracked the rock. Maybe they had lured the animals out and cleared the area, only on purpose. It would explain the emptiness. Considering how much experience I had gained from my accidental concert back at the lake, maybe it was a tactic others used as well.

  Then I thought of the warriors, the raiders, and the mage who had stumbled across the aftermath. They had not acted like that was normal, their surprise had been too genuine. Perhaps only the right class could do it. A sword fighter would not have been able to draw in an entire forest, and fire magic would likely scare animals away rather than lure them. Sound, on the other hand, carried in every direction. My flute had turned into a dinner bell, and maybe that was something only a few could achieve.

  The truth was, I did not know the rules. So far, all of this had been me stumbling forward, piecing together scraps of how this world worked. If my clearing of the forest where I had come into this world was nothing more than a lucky accident, I would take it. If I had needed to walk this distance while fighting off waves of animals armed only with my dented water bottle, I would already be dead.

  So I kept walking, surrounded by strange orange trees, breathing fresher air, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to feel almost safe.

  Still, I knew that I was only guessing. Thinking on it reminded me that I did not truly understand the rules of this place. Everything so far had been trial and error, half luck and half desperation. Marching through miles of hostile forest with only a dented water bottle as my weapon was not a strategy.

  I tried to shake off the thought and just kept walking. The deeper I went, the more I realized I was starting to relax. The strange trees no longer felt threatening. With every step, I felt safer. The raiders who had been chasing me were far behind, the forest was empty of hostile wildlife, and I had what I felt like decent gains in levels. There was also the psychological effect of finally being under a canopy again. After so much time in the open, the simple comfort of leaves overhead and trunks around me felt protective, like a roof and walls after being lost outside in a storm.

  After about an hour of walking, using the sun as my guide, I finally heard the soft rush of water. The sound was so sudden that I froze for a moment just to be sure I was not imagining it. Then relief broke over me.

  I followed the sound carefully and soon found a narrow stream winding its way between the trees. It was shallow, maybe only an inch deep, flowing over smooth rocks and shaded by smaller trees and bushes growing along its edges.

  I crouched to inspect it. No fish darted in the current, no frogs clung to the edges, no movement at all except the water itself. That was both good and bad. On one hand, no predators or hostile wildlife were waiting to lunge at me. On the other hand, there was no food either and I was almost at the end of my stolen rations.

  Still cautious, I scooped up a handful of pebbles and tossed them into the water at different points. Ripples spread and faded. Nothing moved beneath the surface. No giant monster fish leaping up to bite my face off. I had seen enough of those viral noodling clips online - the ones where something huge rises out of nowhere.

  I know better than to take chances.

  Once I was convinced it was safe, I dipped my hand into the current. The water was shockingly cold, the kind of chill that could only come from mountains or glaciers. I let it pool in my palm, clear and shining in the filtered sunlight, before it slipped through my fingers.

  Normally, every survival instinct I had would scream to boil it first. But I had no fire and no pot. The only container I carried was my metal water bottle, and since it was a vacuum-sealed container, I doubted it would work well for boiling. Even if it did, I had no idea how to set up a fire here without wasting time and energy.

  I hesitated. Then I reminded myself of everything so far. I had already survived drinking strange water back at the lake. I had walked for days under brutal sunlight and somehow had not even been sunburned. My body was stronger now. The higher stats and whatever magic fueled them were clearly changing me.

  I raised my hand to my lips and drank.

  The water was incredible. Crisp, clean, and icy. It was so refreshing that once I started I could not stop. I drank until my stomach cramped and I felt like another swallow would make me sick. My chest and legs were soaked where the stream splashed up as I leaned in, but I did not care.

  I collapsed back onto the bank, panting and grinning despite myself. My body was drenched and my clothes clung to me, but I could not bring myself to worry. For fifteen long minutes I just lay there, staring up at the canopy and listening to the steady trickle of water.

  Eventually, I pushed myself up. Rest was nice, but survival demanded movement. I refilled my dented metal water bottle until it was brimming, then filled the leather canteen I had stolen from the warrior’s pack. The container was sealed with a strange knotted wrap at the top, simple but clever. I tugged the knot tight, slung it back over my shoulder, and tried to shake the sluggishness out of my limbs.

  All right. Time to keep moving.

  I stuck to the same direction as before, using the sun as my guide, keeping it to my left. The lack of landmarks gnawed at me. No mountains, no distant towers, not even a cliff face or odd formation to aim for. Just endless forest. For a moment, I considered following the stream instead. Streams usually led to rivers, rivers to lakes, and lakes to people. That would have been the smart play. But the water was flowing toward the same direction where I had first heard that strange song back on the plains, and the last thing I wanted was to stumble into that nightmare again.

  So I trusted the sun and kept walking.

  About an hour later, the quiet broke.

  At first it was subtle, a low and steady rhythm hidden beneath the usual forest sounds. The wind in the leaves. The occasional call of a bird. But underneath all that, something else. A pulse.

  I froze.

  The sound was faint but constant, too regular to be random. It was not footsteps exactly, but something similar. Heavy, deliberate, carrying weight with every strike. It reminded me of construction equipment pounding steel piles into the ground, the kind of vibration you feel through your feet even when your ears can barely process the noise.

  I strained to listen. The rhythm was coming from the same direction the stream flowed. My gut sank.

  Shit. That meant something was there. Something big.

  The longer I stood still, the clearer it became. The sound was not fading. It was growing louder.

  Closer.

  My stomach turned cold.

  Oh no. Oh no no no.

  I bolted.

  All thoughts of stealth vanished. I sprinted in the opposite direction, tearing through brush and branches, leaping over logs, and slamming through what felt like a dozen spider webs in the space of a minute. The careful, deliberate pace I had kept before was gone. Panic shoved everything else aside.

  I ran like there was no tomorrow.

  Minutes passed in a blur of snapping twigs, pounding steps, and burning lungs. My new body, boosted by whatever strange stats I had, carried me further and faster than the old me could have ever managed. But it did not feel like enough.

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  The sound was still there. Louder. Closer.

  Even with my blood rushing in my ears, I could hear it clearly now. A heavy, repetitive thump that shook the ground with every impact. Something was running toward me. Something massive.

  And it was not slowing down.

  Eventually, I could not run any farther. My legs burned, my chest heaved, and I knew this was not like the pond where I had accidentally powered up by sheer desperation. I could not keep sprinting forever. If whatever was chasing me wanted me dead, then I was going to need to stop and face it.

  That was when I stumbled into a clearing.

  It was maybe a hundred feet wide, bare of trees, just raw earth and scattered grass. No cover. No obstacles. No escape. I looked around once and then nodded to myself. If I had to make a stand, this was as good a place as any.

  I yanked my metal water bottle free and gripped it tight like a club. My only weapon.

  I thought briefly about pulling out my makeshift recorder, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. The dizzy fish song had only ever worked with water as a medium, and there was no lake or pond here to carry the sound. Out in the open air, I doubted it would do much of anything.

  The pounding grew louder. Closer. My stomach twisted.

  Through the trees I caught glimpses of something large moving in my direction. Brown, fast, kicking up a trail of dust in its wake. It broke into the clearing at full speed and slid to a stop, staring straight at me.

  I blinked.

  It was a woman.

  Well, woman-shaped.

  She towered over me, easily seven feet tall, with a figure that looked like it had been modeled after a Barbie doll. Wide hips. Long legs. Large breasts. A slender neck. Long, flowing hair that fell behind her in sharp green strands.

  And she was very naked.

  And she was very not human.

  Her skin was not skin at all, but bark. The same snakeskin pattern I had seen on the nearby trees, diamond scales overlapping in that same orangish tint. Her hair was not real hair either, but was made of pine needle leaves, green and spiky, jutting like a wild mane down her back. Even the hair between her legs was the same, a patch of sharp green standing out against the bark.

  Her face was smoother, the bark fading into soft features that belonged on a movie star. And her eyes…

  Her eyes were terrifying.

  They glowed like sunlight reflected on morning dew, bright and sharp, fixed entirely on me. It was the kind of stare a wolf gave its prey, patient and certain.

  Above her head floated the text.

  Forest Nymph {Level 24}

  Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

  I was beyond screwed.

  She stepped forward, slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving mine. I held my ground. What else could I do? Running was pointless.

  She smiled, lips pulling back in a way that was both beautiful and terrifying. When she spoke, her voice was smooth, almost playful.

  “Well hello there, handsome. You led me on quite a chase. I am so happy I caught up to you.”

  She drifted closer, swaying almost lazily, but every step radiated danger. At ten feet away she tilted her head, her smile widening.

  “But now that I am here,” she said softly, “why do you not do me a favor? Lay down and let me kill you.”

  My brain should have shut down then and there. That should have been the moment I pissed myself.

  What hit me next was impossible to describe in normal words. The closest I can compare it to is nails on a chalkboard, but instead of a sound it was a physical sensation. Every single nerve in my body lit up all at once, even the ones in my gums and teeth. It was like my whole body had turned into an instrument and someone was dragging a jagged bow across the strings.

  I collapsed before I even realized what had happened. I was on the ground, curled into a ball, hands clamped over my head as if that would help. I was screaming, rocking back and forth, knowing nothing but the blinding, scraping sensation that seemed to tear me apart from the inside out.

  Somewhere in the chaos, a single thought repeated over and over in the back of my skull.

  She got me. She got me. I have to run. I have to move. I have to do something.

  Through sheer panic I forced myself up to my knees. Every muscle shook. My head rang. But then I froze.

  She was screaming too.

  The nymph was on the ground, thrashing, her hands gripping her head just as tightly as mine had. Her voice carried high into the trees, sharp and broken, as though the same thing tearing through me was ripping through her.

  I had no idea what had triggered it, but I knew one thing: this was my chance.

  My first instinct screamed at me to run, to take the opening and bolt again. But the other half of my brain argued. If this ended and she got back up, she would chase me down. She was stronger, faster, and higher leveled. I had no guarantee she would not be right on my heels the moment she recovered.

  So I made a decision.

  That little voice of morality and ethics in the back of my head tried to argue. It whispered about choices, about right and wrong. I told it to shut the hell up. One minute earlier, she had been smiling while telling me to lie down and let her kill me. That made the decision simple.

  I tightened my grip on the metal water bottle still in my hand and stumbled toward her. My legs shook with every step, but I reached her, lifted the bottle high, and brought it down on the side of her head.

  The blow landed with a sharp crack, but it was like slamming a log with a hammer. The bark that covered her skull chipped, dented, but it did not cave in. She writhed on the ground, still screaming, still alive.

  That was not enough.

  My eyes dropped to my boots. Sturdy hiking boots with thick rubber soles and heavy heels.

  I took a breath, stepped up beside her shoulder, and raised my leg.

  Then I stomped with everything I had.

  The heel connected with her neck, and this time there was a result. The sound was like kicking into rotten wood, but rotten wood that bled. A burst of yellowish fluid sprayed across the dirt, and the bark at her throat cracked inward.

  She twitched violently, trying to push through the pain, her limbs jerking as if she meant to fight back. I did not let her.

  I stomped again. And again. My heel crashed down against her neck, over and over, until the bark splintered and the yellow fluid sprayed in thick streams. Her screams broke apart, growing weaker with each strike.

  Her eyes rolled, bright with morning dew light, then dulled as I shattered them beneath a final kick. Her bark split wide, yellow ichor bubbling like sap as I ground my boot into her neck until I felt it snap like wet timber. She twitched violently, fingers clawing the ground deep enough to rip up dirt and roots, and for a heartbeat I thought she might rise again.

  Finally, she stopped moving.

  I staggered back, gasping for breath, my chest heaving as I looked down at the unmoving body. My boot was slick with her strange blood. My arms trembled with exhaustion.

  “Well,” I muttered between breaths, “that confirms she’s dead.”

  What the hell was wrong with this place? And what the hell had she been?

  Her body was like wood, her bark-covered limbs stiff and heavy, which explained the thunderous sound of her running through the forest. Every step she had taken had been like a tree uprooting itself and charging. That weight, that noise—it all made sense now.

  And then there was the experience. I had no idea how the numbers worked here, but killing something that high level had to mean a ridiculous amount of points. Enough to push me up a level, maybe more. For a brief, insane moment, I almost smiled. Maybe this was how I survived. Maybe I had just—

  “Well, this is unexpected,” a voice said behind me.

  I spun, my heart in my throat. I had not even sensed them.

  Two figures stood at the edge of the clearing.

  Two more nymphs.

  Their bark-covered skin gleamed in the filtered sunlight, their green hair spilling down their shoulders in sharp pine needles. Above their heads floated the glowing names that made my stomach drop.

  Forest Nymph {Level 21}

  Forest Nymph {Level 33}

  They looked nearly identical to the one I had just killed, except one was taller, the level thirty-three. Both of them stared at me with unblinking, dew-bright eyes.

  “Well, no harm done,” the larger one said calmly, her voice carrying across the clearing. “She was my least favorite sister anyway.”

  Nothing about that statement was remotely reassuring.

  “Oh well,” they both said in perfect unison. The sound was wrong, the way twins in horror movies speak together, too smooth and too synchronized, the kind of cadence that makes you want to cover your ears.

  Then, still speaking as one, their voices slithered into the air. “Why do you not lie down and let us kill you?”

  The moment the last word left their mouths, it hit me.

  The feedback.

  That same unbearable sensation ripped through my body again, tearing across every nerve, scraping along my bones, clawing at my teeth. I hit the ground screaming, writhing, my hands clutching my skull as if I could squeeze the pain out. My vision exploded into sparks, my ears filled with the sound of my own wail.

  But this time was different; I had been through it before. I knew what it was. And through the storm of agony, I forced myself to focus. My vision swam, my stomach twisted, but I looked up.

  The two nymphs were screaming too. Both of them rocked on the ground, hands clutching their heads, shrieking in unison. Their bodies spasmed against the dirt, long limbs jerking like broken marionettes.

  That was my opening.

  I forced myself up, legs shaking, lungs burning, the feedback still gnawing at my nerves. I staggered toward the closer one, the level twenty-one, my body moving on pure instinct.

  I did not hesitate.

  I lifted my heel and brought it crashing down on her throat.

  The first stomp cracked the bark. The second sent a spray of yellowish fluid spattering across the dirt. Her scream broke, cut short as I drove my heel down again and again, each strike silencing her more completely.

  But I did not stop. I stomped and stomped, every blow shaking through my leg until her head lolled at an unnatural angle and the clearing stank of rot and sap. Her body went still, spasms fading into silence.

  A glowing blue text box flashed across my vision.

  As soon as I saw the glowing box, I turned and ran at the larger nymph sprawled on the ground. The Level 33. Her bark-skin body twitched as she tried to fight through the feedback, but I was already on her.

  I repeated the same gruesome task as before, raising my boot and slamming my heel down with everything I had. Over and over. Each stomp echoed in my bones. Her size made her tougher I think. Every crack in her throat took twice as much effort, and she clung to life far longer than her weaker sister.

  She writhed beneath me, her long limbs scraping furrows into the earth, her ruined throat wheezing as though she was trying to whisper a curse. Her eyes glowed with fading light, still locked on me, accusing and hungry even as I smashed her again and again.

  At one point, I actually worried about my boots, the thick rubber sole slick with her strange yellow blood, the impact vibrating up my leg hard enough to ache. But I kept going. I could not stop until she did.

  Finally, after what felt like forever, the system message appeared before my eyes.

  The glowing text looked clean, cheerful, almost celebratory. A neat little pop-up announcing my survival like I had just beaten a boss in a video game. But the stinking, broken body at my feet told a different story. Sap-like blood soaked into the dirt, her bark cracked wide like split timber after a storm.

  The contrast made me feel sick.

  The moment the message faded, I dropped to the ground, gasping, every muscle trembling. I scanned the clearing in panic, waiting for another figure to step out of the trees, another sister to appear and finish me while I was down.

  None came.

  “Okay,” I whispered hoarsely, my throat raw. “What the fuck was that? What the actual fuck.”

  My heart hammered as I tried to process it. Talking tree women. I had killed them. I had survived. But nothing about this made sense. The experience was real, the points were real, but the horror was too much.

  Still, I was alive.

  For now.

  And then, without warning, everything went white.