I was sitting on a tree stump, Ilya slumped against it with his head resting on the side of my thigh. Slight snores left his mouth, and I smirked in amusement as a particularly violent inhale caused him to snort. I winced as a sharp splinter jabbed into my leg, but I couldn’t exactly remove it at the moment.

Rhythmically, I scraped a file against my axe, sharpening the slightly dull blade. I ran my thumb over the edge, checking for any leftover scratches and dents. Ilya had taught me how to care for my axe, and I was grateful for it as the tool was slowly damaged to the point that I could tell when chopping. Making sure both sides were equally filed, I tested the sharpness with my finger. I was satisfied when my skin broke, letting blood well up.

I pressed the negligible wound to my pants, letting it staunch the bleeding. It reminded me of when I would take blood sugar tests back on earth.

A sudden prickling at the back of my neck made my hair stand on end. I gripped my axe, its weight now a comfortable feeling. We were a little further out in the forest today, and the sounds of the camp no longer reached us. An almost imperceptible crunch of leaves sounded out behind me, and my instincts began to scream in warning.

I jumped up, swinging my axe in an arc, barely feeling the dull thud as it made contact before I was flying through the air. Distantly, I heard Ilya yelling as a massive paw of a beast crushed my chest, claws sinking into my skin. The animal was too big to be real, its paw covering the extent of my chest. I faintly wondered where it had come from. Had the scent of my blood drawn it? We were still relatively close to the tree line, and you would think no predator would come this close.

The sound of Ilya screaming let me know it was a lynx, just one of disproportionate size. My arms felt like they were being compressed as I tried to keep the lynx’s head away from my own. My arm slid along a fang, and fresh blood poured onto my face. I groped with my other arm to find my axe that had been buried in the animal’s furry side, its handle just out of my reach.

It snarled as I finally tugged my weapon free, breaking apart more of its tough skin. The damp fur around its mouth brushed my face, rancid breath invading my mouth and nose. I tried to pull my arm back to get enough momentum to swing my blade, but my shackles hindered my movements. I wished I had a dagger to easily stab up at the lynx.

Making a risky bet, I released my left hand to also grip at the axe’s handle, painfully twisting my neck as I dodged the lunging mouth. Wicked teeth clamped down on my shoulder instead of my head, and I screamed as fiery pain shot through my body. My arms went limp, my hands slipping down the handle.

Yelling through my teeth, I mustered the rest of my strength to grip the axe hard and swing it into the beast's neck. I prayed that my one skill would assist my desperate bid. The beast howled as I made contact, the smell of sour blood mixing with my own. Its jaws slightly loosened, before it dug in with more strength, ripping through my muscles and scraping bone.

Now it was a battle of attrition and who would succumb to death first. I put pressure onto my axe, slowly digging it further into the beast. My left arm was now completely immobile, my head swimming from the pain. The lynx’s growls slowly quieted as its blood left its body to soak me. As choking noises filled my ears, I figured the animal's windpipe had been severed. The beast's body finally became limp, crushing me beneath it.

Its jagged teeth and claws were still buried in my body, and I could not move. I let my remaining hand slip from the axe, no strength left.

[Skill Upgraded] - [Chop (1) → (2)]

I weakly laughed at the poorly timed message, before breaking into shaky coughs, blood dribbling from my lips.

It felt like my chest was being caved in, and my head felt heavy. I let the tension holding my muscles tight go, and sunk into the unforgiving embrace of the ground.

***

As I woke, pain filled my senses. I felt I wasn’t truly conscious; everything was hazy. Shock that I was alive was a dull presence under the pain. The amount of blood I lost should’ve taken me out, not to mention internal injuries. Ilya must have gotten help from the camp quickly, saving my skin.

In the corner of my mind, I realized that I had earned a point in perception sometime during the fight. I wasn’t sure if it was really deserved. Is instinct connected to perception? It would make sense if it is. Acknowledging my gain must have triggered something, because a new message blared in my foggy mind.

[Criteria Met]

Was reaching five in perception a benchmark for something? I didn’t have to wait long to find out as my status seemed to calculate my added point.

[Skill Gained] - [Enhanced Sense (1)]

[Enhanced Sense (1)] - [passive. When one sense is blocked, the others are improved.]

It came on gradually, the enhancement. My sight was always gone, so everything else was magnified. I could not scream— my body was too weak. The smell of blood, cloth, sweat, and dirt was shoved into my nose, forcing me to know their presence. The pain receptors in my chest and shoulder flared to life, a once dull throb gaining excruciating intensity. My dry tongue shouted at me for water, and the fibers of the bandages that were wrapped around me were needles, pressing into my skin.

As blood dripped down my nose, words spoken outside the tent I was in were like screams right next to my ear, and I could not block them out.

“...take the next cart to the city. We have no healers or mages here, so we can’t treat him.”

A younger voice, Ilya, responded. “O-okay. Will he make it?” He sounded shaken up, but unhurt.

“I’m sure he will. You can go with him, and while you’re in the capital, I have a job for you.” I recognized the voice as Keith’s. “I was planning on heading there myself, but since you’re going now I don’t need to.

“Take this letter— don’t open it— and give it to my friend who is another soldier. We had planned to meet up at the Rigged Tavern; remember that name. We have a code so we know the other isn’t a fake created by illusion magic. Tell him ‘the wind is picking up on the western trail,’ and he should respond with ‘the three birds can hardly fly.’ If he doesn’t say that, leave immediately, alright?”

“W-what's in the letter?”

Keith hummed non-committedly. “Nothing much, just an update for my family. I can’t go see them personally at the moment.”

I didn’t register anything else, the overload too intense for my injured body, and I fell back into the land of the half-dead.

The next time I was woken, it was by the rocking of a cart, my head jolting from bumps in the road. My shackles had finally been removed, and it gave me great relief. Sleeping had given my body time to adjust to my new skill, but everything still seemed extreme. Ilya hummed to himself next to my head, and I lifted my right arm to bump my hand against his knee.

“Carter! You’re awake!”

I ignored his excitement, weakly asking for water. He jumped at the request, slowly dripping water past my chapped lips.

Ilya began to regale me with his version of events. “That lynx was huge! I’ve never seen a beast that big before. I ran to get Argeth for help, but the time I got back we thought you were both dead. It’s a good thing you weren’t.”

“Where are we now?”

“We’re on the road to the capital. We left with the cart that fills up with supplies for the camp. There, a mage or a healer can fix you up.”

“A mage?” It wasn’t that surprising, given the supernatural nature of the status screen. I wouldn’t be shocked if there was magic in this world. That lynx had also been unnatural— it had felt about the size of a bear.

“Yeah. They use mana to perform magic, but I’ve never seen one myself. They’re pretty sought out, and there’s this school in the capital that will immediately accept you if you have even just a little talent for using mana,” he told me.

Ilya then began talking excitedly, telling me tales of strong mages protecting the world, performing extraordinary feats. It quickly passed the time, letting me push my injuries onto a backburner and try to forget the pain.

The sun had started to set before I began to hear other caravans and soldiers on horses waiting in a lineup to get to the capital. Many sounds railed into me, and I could no longer tell if Ilya was still talking or not. By the time we reached the gate, the night was fully upon us and a chill ran through my exposed skin. I guessed it had taken us the full day to reach the city, but I was uncertain because I had no idea how long I had been unconscious.

Our wagon driver that was directing the horses checked in with guards at the gate, stating our identities and purpose. The soldiers were harsh, no doubt on higher alert due to the ongoing war.

We moved through cobbled streets before the driver stopped and urged us off so he could attend to his business. Ilya helped me stand up, and just exiting the cart had me gasping for breath and leaning heavily onto him. He encouraged me to walk forward, and it seemed we had been dropped off right in front of a small hospital of sorts. I was led to an unoccupied bed, collapsing as my world began to fade.

I distantly heard Ilya calling for a healer. A cool cloth was placed on my forehead as someone joined us, and it immediately gave me some relief. Hands delicately removed my bandages, and my enhanced senses let me focus on what was happening.

A hand was placed over the remnants of my shoulder and collarbone, where the worst injury was. I felt a sort of aura pulse from the hand as a soft voice murmured esoteric words. The process was long, forcing my body’s energy to focus on my wound as an arcane force used it to knit muscle tissue together, then thread skin until fresh scars were the only thing left.

I felt drained, my focus waning. I almost groaned as the hand moved to my chest and stomach, knowing I didn’t have the energy to do that again. I was proven wrong, sweat beading on my skin from the exertion as the pathetic amount of stamina I had was compelled to focus on my remaining wounds. I could hardly appreciate the magic happening, as it felt like I was being forced to run for an entire day, my whole body aching and beginning to turn numb.

My gritted teeth and straining neck relaxed as it finally ended, the injured spots reduced to only sore muscles and tender skin. Ilya began to wipe the blood on my torso away with a wet cloth, and the coolness felt heavenly against my overheated flesh.

I still felt disgusting even with the perfunctory wipe down. My body was covered in sweat, dirt, and leftover blood. It itched at my sensitive skin, and it felt like I was covered in a layer of filth. I couldn’t move to do anything about it, my body completely lax and drained.

More water flowed into my mouth, and I desperately gulped down what felt like a gallon. It still didn’t satisfy me, and I felt I could drown without it being enough. However, my various complaints and aches slowly faded as sleep took me into its clutches.