Prologue

The mansion was always full of people, but Wenalin never felt like she belonged in it. The marble halls echoed with footsteps, the polished glass windows reflected perfection, and the grand chandeliers sparkled as if mocking her quiet, invisible presence.

She was the youngest child of the Selveno family, a name known for wealth, power, and influence. To the outside world, her life must have looked like a dream. To Wenalin, it was nothing more than a cage made of gold.

Her parents were too busy with business meetings, charity events, and high-class gatherings to remember she existed. Her five older siblings treated her presence as a forbidden mistake—something best ignored, something not worth mentioning. When the family sat around the dining table, her chair often stayed empty, not because she wasn’t invited, but because she had long since stopped trying.

Her world was her room. A locked door separated her from the people who were supposed to care for her. Four walls, a glowing screen, and the hum of her computer were the only constants in her life.

Games became her reality, her comfort, her escape. In those vast digital worlds, she wasn’t the forgotten daughter or the family’s shadow. She was whoever she wanted to be—strong, fearless, unshackled. With each click, each adventure, she built a life that felt more real than the one outside her door.

Night after night, she sat at her desk, her face lit only by the soft glow of the monitor. While the rest of the mansion slept, Wenalin ventured into pixelated landscapes, slaying monsters, building kingdoms, and chasing freedom she never had in the real world.

To everyone else, she was a recluse. To herself, she was simply… surviving.

And so, in her room high above the city, Wenalin played on, her fingers moving across the keyboard like she was clinging to something no one else could understand.

Because in that artificial light, in that endless game, she finally felt alive.

...----------------...

Chapter 1 – Another Day in the Cage

Wenalin’s POV

The first thing I see when I open my eyes isn’t sunlight, or the view of the city skyline through my window. No, it’s the familiar faint glow of my computer screen. I must have fallen asleep with the game still running again. Typical. The sound of faint background music loops softly, like it’s been waiting for me to return.

I roll over, groaning, my body heavy from hours of sitting last night. My back cracks as I stretch, and I laugh quietly to myself. Wow, congratulations Wenalin, you survived another day of sitting like a shrimp.

My alarm goes off, not because I need to go to school—thankfully that ended when I turned I mean when I have heart attack but because I still force myself to have some kind of routine. Not that anyone in this house cares whether I wake up or not.

I sit up and glance at the time. 10:43 a.m. Everyone’s probably already out living their “important” lives. Father’s either on a flight to another country, or buried under mountains of contracts. Mother is likely at some charity luncheon, pretending she’s the kind of person who saves orphans and not the kind of person who forgets her own daughter’s existence. My five older siblings? Please. They orbit around their own worlds, where I don’t even exist.

I drag myself to the mirror and sigh. My hair’s a mess, sticking up in all directions like I fought with a thunderstorm and lost. My eyes are tired, but not from lack of sleep—more from staring at screens too much. I splash cold water on my face and brush my teeth, forcing myself into some state of humanity.

Breakfast? Or… well, brunch at this point. I sneak downstairs to the kitchen, though “sneak” isn’t the right word since no one actually pays attention to me anyway. The long dining table is spotless, untouched, like no one has eaten here in years. That’s because everyone prefers eating out or in their own spaces. Sometimes I wonder why we even own this place if no one wants to live like a family in it.

I grab a piece of toast and an apple, then retreat back to my room before anyone has a chance to see me. Not that they would say anything, but the silence between me and my family is always louder than words.

Back in the safety of my four walls, I sit down at my desk and boot up my game again. The welcome screen flashes, the familiar logo shining like a beacon. The characters I’ve created, the avatars I’ve spent countless hours leveling up, are waiting for me. Unlike my real life, this world remembers me.

“Good morning,” I mutter to my pixelated companions, even though they can’t hear me. Or maybe it’s just me pretending someone’s listening.

Hours slip by without me noticing. I raid dungeons, collect loot, and grind levels. The in-game chat scrolls with messages from strangers who feel closer to me than my own flesh and blood. I don’t know them, not really, but at least they talk to me. At least they notice me.

By mid-afternoon, sunlight streams into my room, hitting the posters on my wall—the only decoration I’ve chosen myself. My stomach growls, and I realize I’ve forgotten lunch. Again. I grab instant ramen from the drawer I keep stocked like a squirrel hiding acorns for winter. The kettle boils, steam rising, and within minutes I’m slurping noodles at my desk while my character battles monsters.

It’s pathetic, maybe. But it’s my pathetic.

Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if I walked out of this room and disappeared. Would they even notice? Would my parents pause their busy schedules? Would my siblings mention me in their perfect lives? Or would my absence just be another quiet thing no one talks about?

The thought makes my chest ache, so I shove it away and focus on the screen again.

Evening comes, shadows stretching across the corners of my room. I hear the faint sound of cars outside, people returning home from their busy days. I don’t bother going downstairs to check if anyone’s around. I already know the answer.

Dinner is another bowl of instant food. The mansion kitchen could probably serve a feast, but what’s the point if you’re eating alone?

The night stretches on, and once again I find myself lost in the glow of my game. My world. My escape. My cage.

Click. Click. Click.

And just like every other night, I keep playing, because as long as the screen shines, I can pretend I’m somewhere else.

Somewhere better.

...----------------...

The next morning starts the same way it always does—me waking up in my dimly lit room, staring at the ceiling, wondering what day it is. Time doesn’t feel real when your life is just one endless loop of eating, sleeping, and gaming.

I don’t rush to turn on my computer today. Instead, I drag myself to the window and pull the curtains aside. Sunlight instantly floods my room, stinging my eyes. I squint and lean against the glass, watching the world outside.

Down below, two students in neatly pressed uniforms are walking side by side. Their laughter drifts faintly upward, light and unrestrained. They’re probably on their way to school, books hugged to their chests, shoes clicking against the pavement in sync. One of them leans closer to whisper something, and the other bursts out laughing so hard they nearly trip.

And just like that, a dull ache rises in my chest.

I’ve never had that. That easy companionship,goto school, that natural warmth between two people who care enough to share their days with each other. I’ve seen it in dramas, in anime, in games—but watching it happen just outside my window makes it feel more like a cruel reminder.

For a moment, I imagine myself out there, walking beside someone who actually notices I exist. Maybe we’d laugh too, maybe we’d talk about nonsense, or maybe just walk in silence and still feel like it mattered. But the fantasy fades as quickly as it comes.

Because I’m not out there.

I’m in here.

Always in here.

My hand presses against the cold glass. The window feels like a barrier separating me from the life I’ll never touch. And then I see it—the familiar sleek black car pulling into the driveway.

My parents’ car.

I should feel something. Excitement, maybe. Relief. Anger. Anything. But instead, there’s just… emptiness. I watch as the driver gets out to open the door, and my mother steps out first, dressed elegantly as if she’s about to attend another luncheon. Father follows, briefcase in hand, already talking on his phone, his face set in that serious, unreadable expression.

They don’t look up at my window. They don’t glance around to see if I’m there. It’s like the mansion itself is more important than the people inside it.

I sigh and rest my forehead against the glass. “Of course.”

I’m not excited. I don’t even bother going downstairs. Because I already know how this goes. They’ll enter the house, head straight to their respective corners of the world, and I’ll remain the ghost haunting this room.

It’s funny, isn’t it? To live in a house full of people and still feel invisible. I’m alive, technically. Breathing, eating, existing. But sometimes… sometimes it feels like I’ve already disappeared.

I close the curtains again and return to my desk, where my computer screen waits patiently for me, always ready to welcome me back. Unlike them. Unlike anyone else.

As the game loads, I catch my reflection faintly in the monitor. My face looks tired, pale, unremarkable. A person who could vanish tomorrow and maybe no one would even notice.

The thought digs deeper than I’d like, so I shove it away the only way I know how—by diving into another world. Another quest. Another escape.

Because here, behind this locked door, the only proof that I exist is the sound of my fingers on the keyboard.

Click. Click. Click.

And the window stays closed.

Wenalin’s POV

I was halfway through another dungeon raid when the knock came.

Three quick taps, sharp and precise. Not the kind of knock you give when you want to come in, but the kind you give when you’re simply announcing, “We’re here. Acknowledge us.”

Before I could even respond, the door opened. Of course it did. Privacy isn’t really a thing in this house.

It was my oldest sister, Serena. Perfect Serena—tall, polished, dressed like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine even though it was only afternoon. She had the same glossy black hair as me, but hers cascaded down her back like silk, while mine was tied up messily with a clip.

Her eyes scanned my room like she was inspecting a crime scene.

“Still in here,” she said, her voice dripping with judgment. “Figures.”

I kept my eyes on my screen, pretending to be too busy to look at her. “Nice to see you too.”

“You should come downstairs,” she continued, ignoring my sarcasm. “Mother and Father are home. They want to have dinner together. A family dinner.”

Family dinner. The words felt foreign in my mouth. It had been so long since we’d all sat at the same table.

I sighed and pushed my chair back, stretching my legs. “Fine.”

When I stood, she looked down at me—literally. At four-foot-nine, I always had to tilt my head up when speaking to my siblings, all of whom were annoyingly tall. Serena smirked faintly, like my height itself was some sort of embarrassment.

I followed her down the stairs, my heart beating a little faster than it should. Not from nerves—though maybe that too—but because it always did that. My chest tightened easily, and every step felt like it took more effort than it should. It was a reminder of the thing no one in this family liked to acknowledge: my heart condition.

At the long dining table, my parents sat at opposite ends, looking every bit like royalty presiding over their kingdom. Father was scrolling through emails on his phone while Mother sipped her wine delicately, her jewelry glittering under the chandelier. My other siblings were already seated, chatting quietly amongst themselves, their laughter sharp and practiced, the kind that didn’t quite reach their eyes.

And then there was me.

The moment I sat down, the room shifted—not dramatically, but in that subtle way that said I wasn’t supposed to be here. Conversations slowed. Eyes flickered toward me, then away, as though acknowledging my existence for too long would be uncomfortable.

“Wenalin,” Mother said finally, her tone polite but distant, like she was addressing a stranger. “How have you been?”

I stabbed my fork into the salad in front of me. “Fine.”

“That’s good.” She smiled faintly, then turned her attention back to Serena, asking about some business internship she’d been offered.

And that was it. That was my entire contribution to this so-called family dinner.

I ate quietly, not that anyone cared whether I did or not. My siblings talked about their schools, their careers, their perfect lives that seemed to orbit far above mine. Father nodded occasionally, adding his rare approval when one of them said something impressive.

No one asked me anything else.

At some point, I caught my reflection in the silverware—my round, soft face, the features people once called beautiful when I was younger. My parents used to show me off like a doll at parties. But beauty doesn’t mean much when you’re weak, when you’re short, when you’re… me.

My chest tightened again, but I forced a calm expression. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me falter.

When dinner ended, everyone rose smoothly, their chairs barely scraping against the floor. No one said goodnight to me. No one asked me to stay.

I slipped away quietly, back up the grand staircase, back into the only place that felt like mine. My room.

Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My heart pounded a little too fast, and I pressed a hand against my chest, waiting for it to calm down.

A beautiful face in a family portrait. That’s all I was to them. Something to frame and then forget.

I returned to my desk, turned on my computer, and slipped my headset over my ears.

Because if I was going to be invisible, then I’d rather disappear into a world that actually welcomed me.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of my keyboard drowned out the silence of a family I could never belong to.

...----------------...

The night felt no different from the hundreds before it. My room glowed faintly in the dark, the only light coming from the computer screen. The rest of the mansion was silent, heavy with that eerie kind of stillness that always reminded me how empty it was.

I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms, the familiar ache in my shoulders returning after hours of grinding quests. The clock in the corner of my screen read 2:14 a.m. My eyes stung, but I ignored it. I wasn’t ready to stop.

“This dungeon is mine tonight,” I muttered, clicking away as my character slashed through hordes of monsters.

The music swelled as I entered the final boss chamber. My hands flew over the keyboard, my focus sharper than it had been all day. My character dodged and struck, light flashing across the screen. My chest tightened from the adrenaline rush, but I grinned.

“Come on… just a little more…”

But then—

The grin faltered. My chest didn’t just tighten. It clenched. Hard.

The breath caught in my throat, my lungs suddenly refusing to work properly. My vision blurred, and the sound of the game grew muffled, distant, like I was hearing it underwater.

“No… not now…” I gasped, clawing at my chest. The pain spread, sharp and suffocating, stealing the strength from my body.

I tried to stand, but my legs gave out, and I collapsed beside the chair. My fingers trembled as I reached out for something, anything—my desk, the edge of my bed—but everything slipped away.

Air. I needed air. My heart hammered violently, then staggered, then hammered again like it couldn’t decide whether to keep going.

“Not… yet…” I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. Not here. Not like this. Not alone.

The monitor glowed above me, the game still running, my character frozen mid-battle. The last thing I saw before everything went dark was the word “Defeat” flashing across the screen.

And then—silence.

When I opened my eyes again, everything was… wrong.

There was no room, no desk, no hum of a computer. No mansion, no suffocating walls. Just an endless stretch of darkness, lit faintly by a soft, otherworldly glow.

I blinked, sitting up slowly, though I didn’t remember standing or moving at all. My body felt weightless, like I wasn’t really me anymore but something else entirely.

And then I saw her.

A girl stood a few feet away, barefoot, her long white dress fluttering as though there was a breeze I couldn’t feel. Her hair was silver, glowing faintly against the void, and her eyes… her eyes were like galaxies, infinite and strange, staring directly into me.

“Wenalin,” she said, her voice soft but echoing all around, as if the darkness itself carried her words. “Do you want to live again?”

I froze. My lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Then, hoarse, I whispered, “...Yeah.”

The girl smiled faintly, tilting her head. “Then tell me… if you were to live again, what do you want to become?”

I lowered my gaze. What did I want?

Not to return to my old life. Not to that mansion, to those cold dinners, to those faces that never looked at me as if I mattered.

Slowly, my words formed, shaky but certain. “If I’m reincarnated… I want to live in my favorite game. Not as someone weak or forgotten. I want to be… alone. Far away, away from everyone. Somewhere in the forest or woods…”

I hesitated, then let out a breath. “…and in a big, dark castle. On my own.”

The girl’s eyes shimmered, like stars flickering to life. “A world of your choosing, then. A castle deep in the woods, hidden from others, where you will live as you wish.”

I nodded, my chest tightening—not from pain this time, but from a strange mix of fear and hope.

Her hand reached out, delicate and pale, and the moment her fingers brushed mine, the darkness around us cracked.

Light burst through, blinding and warm, swallowing me whole.

And for the first time in my life… I felt like I was truly leaving everything behind.

Not escaping through a screen. Not hiding in a room.

This time, I was stepping into another world entirely.

The Castle of Shadows

Wenalin’s POV

The first thing I noticed was the cold.

It wasn’t the sterile chill of an air-conditioned room, or the draft slipping under my bedroom door at night. This was different—raw, natural, the kind of cold that seeped through stone walls and lingered in your bones.

I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dim light.

This wasn’t my room.

The ceiling stretched impossibly high above me, supported by massive stone pillars that disappeared into shadow. The floor beneath me was black marble, cracked in places, and a long carpet led to a grand throne at the far end of the hall. Dust floated through the air like tiny ghosts. The castle was silent. Empty.

And yet… it felt alive.

I pushed myself up, my heart pounding—not in pain, but in disbelief. I looked around again, slowly this time, my mouth falling open.

“This is… real,” I whispered. My voice echoed faintly against the cavernous walls.

I stumbled toward the throne, my footsteps soft against the carpet. My hands brushed the stone banisters, cold and rough under my fingers. Every detail was sharp, too sharp for a dream.

I reached the throne and sat down, my legs dangling awkwardly over the edge. Even here, I was short—still 4’9, still the girl who had to look up at everyone. My hair fell around my face the same way it always had. My reflection in a cracked mirror nearby confirmed it: the same delicate features, the same round face people once called beautiful.

Nothing had changed. Not my face. Not my body. Not even my cursed height.

For a moment, I laughed bitterly. “So much for a fantasy makeover.”

But then my laughter softened. Because… maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe for the first time, I didn’t want to be someone else. This was me. And this was my world now.

I stood and walked across the vast hall, my footsteps echoing. Empty. Everything was empty—no guards, no servants, no voices. Just me.

And strangely, that made me happy.

I had wished for this, hadn’t I? A life far away, in the forest, in a dark castle where I could be alone. No parents to ignore me. No siblings to judge me. No cold dining tables. Just silence. Just freedom.

I stopped in the center of the hall, closed my eyes, and spread my arms. The emptiness wrapped around me like a cloak, and for the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe without waiting for something—or someone—to crush me again.

Then, suddenly, a faint ding echoed in my ears.

I opened my eyes. A glowing rectangle hovered in front of me, translucent and shimmering like glass.

[ SYSTEM STATUS SCREEN ]

My breath caught. This… this was straight out of my favorite games. Carefully, almost afraid, I reached out and touched the floating screen. It shifted, opening fully like it had been waiting for me.

🌟 [SYSTEM STATUS SCREEN]

Player Profile

Name: Wenalin

Race: Human (Reincarnator)

Age: 14 (Soon eligible for Royal Academy at 15)

Class: Unchosen (Potential paths: Knight, Mage, Rogue, Scholar, Hybrid)

Title(s): “Reincarnator,” “Unknown Variable”

Level: 1

Exp: 0 / 100

 Vital Stats

HP (Health): 100 / 100

MP (Mana): 50 / 50

SP (Stamina): 80 / 80

 Attributes

STR (Strength): 8

AGI (Agility): 10

DEX (Dexterity): 9

END (Endurance): 7

INT (Intelligence): 12

WIS (Wisdom): 11 → Good judgment, slightly above average insight

CHA (Charisma): 6 → Blunt, hard to connect with strangers

LUK (Luck): 15 → Unusually high, fate bends around you

 Skills

• Beginner Swordsmanship (Lv. 1) → Basic sword handling.

• Blackball (Lv. 1) → Summons a small dark orb, weak damage but grows stronger with INT.

• Unique Skill: “Second Chance” → Revive once upon death with partial HP & MP restored.

 Inventory

Slot 1: Worn Traveler’s Cloak (Common)

Slot 2: Rusty Short Sword (Common)

Slot 3: Bread x2 (Consumable – restores 10 HP)

Slot 4: Empty

Currency: 0 Gold

 Quests

Main Quest: Survive in this world.

Side Quest: Register at the Adventurer’s Guild.

Hidden Quest (Locked): Register at the Royal Academy upon turning 15.

 Reputation

Global: Unknown

Local: Stranger

Royal Academy: Not Yet Eligible

Adventurer’s Guild: Not Registered

System Notes

• Your high LUK may unlock secret opportunities, rare drops, or encounters others never see.

• Your Title: Reincarnator makes you a wild card in this world’s fate. Some NPCs may sense it.

• Second Chance makes you more valuable than most adventurers — but you only get one revival per day.

I stared at the glowing text, my mouth hanging open.

“This is insane…” I whispered. My hand hovered over the screen, scrolling through the stats. “It’s like… I’m inside the game.”

I touched my chest. My heart wasn’t hurting. Not anymore. For once, it felt steady, calm.

My eyes drifted back to the “LUK: 15.” High luck. Of course. I almost laughed. Maybe for once, luck was actually on my side.

I closed the screen and looked around the empty castle again. The silence felt different now—not just emptiness, but possibility.

A smile tugged at my lips.

“This time,” I said softly, my voice echoing in the grand hall, “I’m going to play my life the way I want to.”

And for the first time ever… it didn’t feel like an escape. It felt like the start of the

real game.

...----------------...

When I woke up the next morning, I was still in the same oversized bed with silky sheets that looked way too expensive for someone like me. My brain hadn’t caught up yet. For a moment, I actually thought it was just another dream—the kind I sometimes got after gaming too long. But then I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and saw the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the cracked black walls, the long shadowed windows.

Right. The big dark castle in the middle of nowhere. My request. My “isekai starter pack.”

Honestly? Still couldn’t believe this was real.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My feet touched the cold stone floor, and I nearly shivered. My height didn’t change—still 4’9. Great. Even in another world, I’m snack-sized. Lucky monsters.

But my face? I had checked in the mirror last night. Same features, same dark hair falling over my shoulders, same big eyes everyone used to call “pretty but wasted on her attitude.” Yeah, no glow-up. The only difference was the weird blue-ish aura that flickered faintly whenever I touched my chest, where my “system” seemed to sit.

And speaking of the system—

“System. Open status.”

The familiar screen blinked to life before me. Lines of text glowed midair, floating like a hologram. Just seeing my Level 1 stats made me want to sigh.

Weak. Absolutely weak.

“STR 8, END 7. Basically, I’ll faint if a bunny kicks me,” I muttered.

Still, I couldn’t just stay locked up in the castle forever. I had spent eighteen years cooped up in my room back in the real world. This was my second chance, my real game. And games don’t play themselves.

So today’s plan was simple: Level up.

---

I tied the thin traveler’s cloak around my shoulders, grabbed the rusty short sword from my inventory (it looked like it had seen better centuries), and stuffed the two pieces of bread into the side pocket. My great adventure would start with carbs.

The front gate of the castle groaned as I pushed it open, sunlight slicing through the shadows. Outside was the forest—massive trees with twisting roots, thick branches blocking chunks of the sky. Birds chirped somewhere far away. The air smelled cleaner than anything back home.

It was… beautiful.

Also terrifying.

Because if there were trees, there were animals. And if there were animals, there were probably monsters.

I swallowed. “Okay Wenalin, you wanted this. Let’s start easy. Slimes. Rabbits. No dragons. No demons.”

The path leading away from the castle was half overgrown, grass reaching up to my knees. I held the sword tight in my hand. It felt heavy, awkward, like I had no idea what I was doing (which, let’s be honest, I didn’t).

---

My first encounter didn’t take long.

A bush rustled to my left. I froze. Something squishy and wet-looking bounced out—green, jiggly, the size of a basketball. A slime.

“Perfect!” I whispered, my heart racing. “Tutorial mob!”

The slime blinked—wait, did it even have eyes?—and made a strange blorp sound before wobbling toward me.

Alright, Wenalin. Time to test your sword skills.

I raised the rusty short sword and swung.

Swish.

…Missed.

The slime hopped to the side, leaving me stumbling forward like an idiot.

“Oh come on, even a slime can dodge me?!” I hissed, spinning around.

It wobbled again, then launched itself at my leg. I yelped, almost falling backward, but managed to smack it with the flat side of the blade. It squealed—or maybe that was me—and flopped onto the ground.

–5 HP popped above its head.

I blinked. “Oh. That… actually worked?”

The slime quivered angrily and lunged again. This time, I gritted my teeth, focused, and stabbed downward.

Schlick.

The sword sank into its gooey body. A small burst of light scattered. The slime collapsed into a puddle before vanishing completely, leaving behind…

[Loot Acquired: Slime Core x1]

My hands shook, both from excitement and adrenaline. I had actually killed something. All on my own.

The system chimed:

[Exp +20]

[Level 1 → Level 2]

I stared at the glowing notification. “Oh my god. That was easier than grinding in Fantasy Realm Online.”

Still, my arms ached from just two swings. My END really was trash.

---

For the next hour, I wandered deeper into the forest, testing myself on small monsters.

A horned rabbit bit me once (ow, sharp little teeth), but after panicking and smacking it repeatedly with the sword, I managed to win. Another slime nearly made me trip, but I found out my “Blackball” skill actually worked—though the tiny dark orb I summoned looked more like a sad smoke bubble than a spell.

It did the job though.

By the time I slumped down against a tree trunk to catch my breath, I had leveled up twice more. My HP was low, my stamina bar nearly empty, but my hands trembled with excitement.

I wasn’t just surviving. I was playing.

“Ha…” I let out a shaky laugh, holding up the slime core in my hand. “Take that, real world. I can actually fight here.”

I leaned back against the tree, staring up at the canopy. The sunlight peeked through the leaves, painting the forest gold.

For once, I felt like I could actually keep going.

...----------------...

My brain kept telling me, Go back to the castle, Wenalin. Eat bread. Nap. Be safe.

But my feet? They had other plans.

Because even though my arms ached and my stamina bar was crying for mercy, I just couldn’t stop. The forest was alive with danger, sure, but it also had that spark—the thrill of stepping into the unknown. It felt… freeing.

Like for once, I wasn’t just some fragile kid stuck inside her room.

I was an adventurer.

Well, a Level 3 adventurer with trash stats and a sword that looked like it belonged in the bargain bin, but still—progress.

---

The trees grew denser as I went further in. Sunlight barely reached the forest floor here, leaving long patches of shadow. The air was thicker, damp, almost sticky. And it was quiet.

Too quiet.

I stopped, clutching the sword tighter. “...Yeah, this feels like the part in a horror game where you either find treasure or get eaten.”

A bush rustled ahead. I stiffened, crouching slightly, my heart racing.

From the shadows, two glowing eyes appeared.

Not green like slimes. Not white like rabbits.

Red.

“Oh no. No, no, no…” I whispered, taking a step back.

The wolf emerged—sleek, black fur glistening, teeth bared. It looked bigger than me. Its claws dug into the dirt as it growled low, the sound vibrating straight into my bones.

“Oh great. I’m the appetizer,” I muttered, trying to steady my breathing.

It lunged.

---

Instinct screamed louder than logic. I swung the sword wildly, and by some miracle, it grazed the wolf’s shoulder.

–10 HP

The wolf snarled but didn’t stop. Its weight slammed into me, knocking me onto my back. My sword almost flew out of my hands. I shoved against its neck, feeling its hot breath on my face.

“GET—OFF!” I yelled, kicking at its stomach.

It staggered back, but not before its claws raked across my arm.

–15 HP

“Ow ow ow—!” The pain was so real, I wanted to cry. But crying wouldn’t help. I forced myself up, shaking.

The wolf circled, eyes gleaming with hunger. My own HP bar blinked dangerously yellow.

This was not a beginner mob.

---

“Blackball!” I shouted, thrusting out my hand.

The small dark orb appeared and shot forward, smacking the wolf in the face. It snarled, shaking its head, buying me seconds. I used that moment to stab forward, the rusty sword sinking into its side.

–25 HP

It howled, then retaliated with a swipe of its claws.

–20 HP

My HP plummeted into the red. 10/100. My vision blurred at the edges.

“Not good, not good—” I stumbled back, tripping over a root. The wolf loomed above me, lips curled back, ready for the final bite.

Panic froze me.

Then—

[Unique Skill Activated: Second Chance]

Light exploded from my chest. Warmth surged through me, filling my veins. My HP bar shot up to 40/100. The wolf yelped, thrown back by the burst.

I gasped for air, clutching my chest. “...I just died. I literally died!”

My hands shook, but adrenaline drowned out the fear. I stood, raising the sword again.

“Okay, no more playing nice.”

---

The wolf lunged again, but this time I sidestepped, swinging with all my strength. The blade sliced deep into its shoulder.

Critical Hit! –40 HP

The wolf stumbled, whined, then lunged weaker than before. My heart hammered in my chest as I dodged again, channeling another Blackball.

The orb hit its head square on.

It collapsed into light, leaving only silence and a glowing notification.

[Exp +60]

[Level Up → 4]

I collapsed to my knees, panting. My sword trembled in my grip. Sweat dripped down my forehead.

“Okay…” I wheezed. “So… note to self: don’t fight wolves. Ever. Again.”

I leaned back against a tree, pressing a shaky hand to my side where the wounds had been. They weren’t bleeding anymore—thank you, revival skill—but the phantom pain lingered.

I had actually died. On my first real adventure outside the castle.

And yet, weirdly enough… I felt alive.

Like I had finally tasted what it meant to fight for survival.

---

After resting, I checked my system again.

[New Passive Skill Unlocked: Survivor’s Instinct Lv.1]

Grants a small boost to Agility and Awareness when HP falls below 30%.

I blinked. “...Oh. That’s actually useful.”

So almost dying came with rewards, huh?

I chuckled weakly. “Still not worth the trauma.”

The forest was still around me, dark and full of secrets. Part of me wanted to keep pushing further, but my common sense—what little of it I had left—finally screamed at me to go back.

So I staggered to my feet, sword dragging slightly, and started walking toward the distant silhouette of the castle.

The adventure had only just started, and I’d already used my get-out-of-death-free card.

“Next time,” I muttered, “I’m bringing snacks. And maybe a shield. .”

Still, despite the fear, despite the pain… a smile crept across my face.

I wasn’t just surviving.

I was living.