Faye could hardly believe the words the system had shown her. These few notifications were so much more helpful than any of the others she’d seen. The others had been short, terse, by comparison.

Her muddled brain couldn’t quite think of a reason why. Her thoughts whirled around the idea, alighting for split seconds on answer and flitting away once again.

She was finding it impossible to concentrate on the problem.

Instead, she stood and stretched.

As much as she felt like lying down and sleeping for a whole day, she couldn’t stay in the forest forever. The snow hadn’t laid properly here and looking up she could see that the dense branches above were partly the reason for that, but she was certain that staying away from the protection of Lóthaven for much longer was genuinely a stupid idea.

But she grinned again. She had a class!

[Swordfighter]

It sounded perfect, too. Tailor made for her. If she had been given the choice, it would have been the one she would have picked, for sure.

The system had said something about the class defining your life. Was that right? The memory of the words/voice swam in her head. She shrugged, something like that. It didn’t matter too much.

The system had also said she’d been given an upgraded class skill. She could only vaguely remember receiving [Swordfighting — Basic] but that didn’t matter much because she had always been better than a basic swordfighter since arriving.

She wondered what had taken the system so long in recognising that she already had a ton of knowledge. Without sitting down with someone like Taveon, or the scholars that the adventurers had mentioned, there were no answers for her yet.

The day that Taveon was no longer tied up with the school term could not come fast enough, in her eyes.

Picking up her sword and sliding it home in the leather ring on her belt, Faye looked at her surroundings once more. This patch of forest held a warmth underneath the canopy of leaves, and if Faye hadn’t known better, she would have sworn it was autumn.

The fireflies were still buzzing angrily around the boar’s corpse. Faye was happy to leave them to their ministrations. There was nothing there she wanted. The bleeding, burned mountain of flesh, hide, and hair was not something she could stomach even if she had the strength to move it.

Poetic justice in eating the thing that tried to kill you, though, she thought.

The ledge of dirt and earth that the boar had launched her from with its headbutt sloped gently off to her right, so she slowly made her way that way. She wanted somewhere she would be easily able to get back up to that height without straining herself further.

As she walked, she marvelled over the lack of pain she was feeling. Running her hands over her chest, back of her neck and head, even her arms and legs… there were so few signs of the scrap she’d just gotten out of that she wouldn’t have believed the tale if she’d heard it from someone else.

She frowned. This was clearly some magical shenanigans that the whole world knew about but that she had no clue about yet. There was so much to learn. She shook her head. Too much to learn and what felt like barely any time to sit and learn it.

It would take a whole lifetime to be as comfortable with this system and the magic as Arran and the others. But she was determined to at least try.

As she walked, she thought over what she already knew. The system made people stronger, faster, tougher. It was how a giant forest boar had wounded, but not immediately killed, Faye.

I was probably this close to dying.

The thought sent a shiver across her spine. She took a deep breath as she walked and looked around for any signs of trouble. It seemed that the fireflies, which still flew around the plants and trees here and there, were something the other forest inhabitants avoided.

The system notifications had said something about a skill point. She had played enough games to know that it would probably allow her to unlock more skills… or level up a skill she already had. But every mental, verbal, and physical command she could think of did nothing.

Speaking out loud to herself in the forest wasn’t the strangest thing she had done since arriving but getting nowhere with the system was definitely a downer. It was times like this she wished she had a manual.

The others had talked about accessing the system enough that she knew the premise. But this wasn’t going according to everyone else’s experiences. That was worrying.

A helpdesk or a support line to call, she thought, that is what’s needed here.

She would have to figure it out later.

As she crested the rise of earth again, she saw that she’d come across a faint animal trail. She let out a sigh in relief. It would be easier to follow this until she got back to the areas with the hunter’s and guard’s trails. They were numerous closer to the town and were a good marker for being in the right direction.

Destination fixed in her mind, Faye kept and ear and eye out for more monsters. There was life surrounding her, still, but it was a little quieter now. It could have something to do with the time of night. The moon was just past its zenith, overhead. The light easily penetrated through the branches of the leafless trees above her.

As she walked, it was hard not to think about the notifications.

She imagined what her attributes were. The system had said something about attribute growth. It made sense. If she had stats, those stats would increase as she got stronger. She knew that the others had their own stats, though they were somewhat reluctant to tell her exactly what they were. Which did make sense but was not the best way to learn about what’s normal.

The Administrator had told the others that I had low stats, didn’t she? Faye frowned as she tried to recall what the woman had said.

A sound nearby caused something within Faye to flicker, a moment later her sword was drawn and in a guard. She blinked. She barely remembered taking hold of the weapon.

Pushing that thought aside, she focused on what she had heard that sent her into alert mode.

A sibilant hiss from behind the trunk of a large tree caught the edges of her hearing.

Carefully walking around the trunk, placing each step carefully to avoid noise as much as possible, Faye kept her eyes peeled and senses attuned.

The moment she rounded the corner, the quiet hiss rose into a harsh, ripping sound of an animal’s war cry.

A blur of movement told her that something was rushing toward her.

At first, Faye felt the panic flash through her. But it was just as rapidly replaced by something else. A feeling of… something wrapped itself around Faye’s limbs and let her drop into a ready stance, then launch forward into a rising slash just as the creature entered her engagement range.

The wooden blade sang through the air, and the ripping cry of the creature rose into a frenzy as her sword slashed open its fur.

As the creature passed, it tried swiping its claws across her face, but she was already pivoting away, sword remaining between her and the threat. She guided it down and away from her with the tip of the blade. It was as natural as breathing.

When the creature came to its paws on the forest floor, Faye realised that it was the same creature from before. Her dagger was still embedded deeply in its ribs, and the entire left side of the monster was red with matted blood, the dagger bobbing up and down as its side heaved with each breath.

It stumbled as it took its next step, but its wide eyes were locked on Faye’s. She had always heard that animals backed into corners were dangerous. Animals with nothing left to lose.

This creature, whatever it was, would try and take her with it. She could see it in that animalistic, predatory gaze.

Before, that thought might have sent a burst of adrenaline through her. Surprisingly, it didn’t now. Instead, that pressure throughout her limbs was in control. She took a close left guard and when the beast made its final lunge for her throat, its claws outstretched and jaws wide, a ripping cry ringing from its maw — Faye stepped forward, swinging her blade down to the left, raising the blade diagonally across the elongated neck of the beast.

Her wooden blade didn’t quite behead the crazed monster. But the edge was sufficient enough to open its jugular.

Congratulations! You have defeated a level six [Chénnail].

Experience points earned.

The chénnail dropped to the ground, dead before it hit the patchy snow on the forest floor. Its dark red blood stained the snow in a stark reminder that these were living things.

She bent to take a grip of her dagger and with some significant effort removed it from the chénnail’s side.

“Seems like there’s no direct translation for you,” Faye whispered. “I’m not sure what makes you special. But, for what it’s worth… I’m almost sorry I had to put you down.”

Now that the chénnail wasn’t trying to kill her, she realised that its fur was quite pretty. It was a dark colour but filled with strands of something almost metallic that shone with the moon’s light. It’s the kind of thing that would have been hunted to extinction on Earth for its pelt.

A wave of exhaustion hit as she looked down at the dead monster. She looked up at the scarred moon but couldn’t quite see it above the trees. It was incredibly late. Or early, depending how you looked at it.

Time to get back inside the town walls.

Though the night hadn’t been quiet, by any stretch of the imagination, Faye was almost certain the daytime would be worse. Back home, woods like these would have been relatively quiet. Here, in a world where magic threw spanners in nature’s works… well, she wasn’t sure that her expectations were going to help in many cases.

The chénnail’s body would have to stay there.

There is no way I’m strong enough to carry that all the way back, in this state.

As she walked, Faye grew ever more lost in dreams of the future. Gorgeous cloaks made from shiny furs, swords that shone with light and cut through her enemies with grace, even something simple like a water flask that never ran dry.

Before, the world has been her oyster. The Internet connected her to anyone and anything in the world. There was almost nothing left for her to discover.

Here, in this strange place of monsters and magic, Faye was no longer one of the masses of people that sit comfortably in their homes for most of their lives — eat, sleep, work, repeat.

A flush of excitement rose through her. She grabbed the hilt of her sword again. She was alive, and in nights like this, where Faye decided what to do and where to go, surviving on her skill and merit alone…

Well, that was an amazing feeling.

With the way the system worked… she wondered how that would have changed things for her and her family if they had all been born on a world like this one. It could have made things horrifically worse.

She shuddered at the thought of magic being involved. It made her feel sick.

“But maybe you’d have still been here, still striving to live, to be something more than what he made us be,” she whispered. “I… I miss you a lot, mum. A whole lot.”

In the far distance, just on the edge of hearing and just for a moment, Faye thought that she heard the eerily beautiful howl of a wolf. She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed down on the memories and thoughts of her mother. It wasn’t something she could let out of the box yet.

She would deal with it when she had time to deal with it. Faye made herself a promise.

Just like she had last month.

And the month before that.