The transition from sleep to wakefulness was slow, a luxury Haru hadn't dared to enjoy until now. For a few disorienting seconds, his head spun with a mild "sleep debuff," his mind struggling to remember exactly where he was. He lay perfectly still on his makeshift bed of dried ferns and soft moss, staring at the underside of his hand-built roof. Outside, the sun was climbing over the Fidalion treeline; a single beam of golden light pierced through a gap in the cabin walls, resting squarely across his chest and the top of his head. To his left, the small wooden table he’d fashioned sat in the corner, while his few remaining items—his tattered original shoes and some spare vine cordage—lay on the floor right next to the bed.
Haru shifted from his position and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The cabin was quiet, but the silence was no longer terrifying; it was private. He checked his inventory by swinging his arm in a familiar middle-to-bottom-right motion. The translucent blue interface snapped into focus, showing the details of his stock. His heart sank as he saw the bright red flashing on the ingredients—the Forest Karots and Magic Potatoes were almost depleted. He clutched his fist, his knuckles turning white. With a wave of determination, his eyes flared up with resolve, and he headed outside.
The morning air was crisp, smelling of pine needles and damp earth. He looked at the flat patch of land near his cabin, calculating in his head the time and resources he would need to make the Field. He wasn't just looking at mud anymore; his "Intermediate Survival" mind began to whir, overlaying a mental grid onto the dark soil. He first searched for a sturdy stick to make a makeshift hoe, walking approximately 50 meters away from his cabin into the dense woods.
On his way, he encountered more Forest Karots and Magic Potatoes—a total relief that would ease the pressure if the work was delayed. He also gathered vines and herbs along the way, preparing for the future with every material he could find. He was no longer just a guy trying to survive the night; he was a harvester.
Then, he stopped as he looked at a tree that was weirdly attractive. It stood in a small patch of filtered light, its bark a deep charcoal grey with thin, amber-colored veins that seemed to pulse faintly with warmth. He reached out to inspect it.
[Notice: Mandalion Tree]
Good for making Sturdy Gears and burns 5 minutes longer than ordinary Fire Wood by 5 minutes.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“The skeleton of the Fidalion forest. Hard to cut, but harder to break.”
Haru rejoiced at the finding. He climbed the tree, the rough bark scraping his palms, and with significant effort, he managed to snap off a total of 17 sticks. It was exhausting work; the wood was twice as heavy as normal oak, and every branch snapped with a sharp, metallic crack. It was more than his plan required, but he didn't mind; he was grateful for the extra materials.
Back at the cabin, Haru pulled a Mandalion stick and a vine from his inventory. He searched for a flat, rectangular or triangular stone to serve as the blade. As he began to tie them together, a memory of a survival video from his old world flickered in his mind. He could almost see the explorer from the screen standing in the corner of the cabin—a rugged man with a khaki vest, arms crossed with a proud smirk.
Haru pulled the vines tight with his teeth, securing the stone in a cross-pattern until it was rock-solid. After tying the vine, stick, and stone together, he finally managed to successfully craft the tool. The moment his fingers gripped the finished handle, a jolt of heat shot through his muscles.
[Notice: For creating a crucial equipment, you are granted a Strength bonus as a reward: +2 Strength (Permanent)]
The exhaustion that had been weighing down his shoulders evaporated, replaced by a humming energy. With newly profound determination, he walked outside and stood in the middle of the flat field. He raised his hoe high and, with a serious expression, smashed it into the dirt.
THWACK.
The stone bit deep—nearly six inches into the packed earth. He was surprised; the hoe didn't break or loosen—a testament to his proud crafting skills thanks to the Intermediate Survival Skills he had.
Hours passed as he kept swinging. Beads of sweat turned into streams running down his face. He wiped the sweat from under his chin, breathing heavily as fatigue built up. He looked up at the sky and let out a weary cry—a silent plea of respect for the farmers of his old world who hoed the ground daily from sunrise to sunset. ‘I am so sorry,’ he thought, ‘for ever complaining about the price of vegetables.’
A new wave of determination followed, quickly cut short by a thunderous growl from his stomach. He stretched his aching back, hearing a series of satisfying cracks, and started heading back to his cabin for a well-earned meal. While he was walking away, a shadowy figure emerged from behind the trees, silently observing.
As the peaceful night lingered, a campfire crackled outside the cabin. Rabbit meat, pierced with a Mandalion stick, rested near the rising flames. Haru looked at the skies and reminisced about the days back in his previous world where, as a kid, he would go camping with his parents and stare up at the stars.
He noticed that there were two moons—one silver, one violet. It was proof he was inside the world of his game, but the variables were wrong. The Goblins were too smart; the world was too real. He took his freshly cooked rabbit skewers with roasted Karots and Potatoes and ate with pleasure, sprinkling a pinch of crushed salt that added an explosion of flavor.
As he turned to grab the last stick—the biggest portion he had saved for the end—he realized it was missing. He heard a wet, rhythmic munching noise behind him. His heart hammered. Slowly, he turned his head.
His jaw dropped, his eyes wide with pure shock. Sitting in the flickering shadows was a figure, holding his skewer and eating with absolute desperation.
