[You should at least increase your stats before entering the forest.]
The system's voice rang out like a bored administrator ticking boxes on a clipboard.
It was also the fifth time it had warned him.
"Tch. First time stepping into a forest and already getting nagged..." Davin muttered, slapping dust from his pants.
"Naah. I need the Pulse Points to stay alive," he replied aloud, brushing a leaf off his shoulder.
"Besides, it's just an overgrown bush. Won't be hard to bump into a Virelume fruit and trace my way out to some random town on the other side."
He glanced at the sprawling tree-line ahead. Thick, shadowy, and wild.
Not exactly friendly—but not terrifying either.
Just trees.
'How hard could it be?' he told himself as he stepped past the first gnarled root.
He had intentionally avoided the road, after the system had informed him that he wouldn't find the fruit by following beaten paths.
Roads meant the area was explored and looted if any good stuff were found while building it.
But the Virelume only grew in the untamed environments away from greedy hands.
The good thing, the mission didn't have a deadline. So what pushed him wasn't desperation—it was curiosity of...
Magic.
Compared to the endless drills and sweat-drenched training his father's students endured, mana manipulation to him seemed elegant, simple... doable.
As for that whole "becoming a demigod" deal?
He'd shoved it to the back of his mind where all mythical nonsense went to die.
'Start small,' he'd told himself.
'That way, you don't end up disappointed.'
He was, after all, just a candidate.
A simple placeholder.
The admin's heir—in theory. But nothing stopped the time orb in his chest from abandoning him the second he ran out of Pulse Points.
Twelve candidates had already died before him.
The system hadn't flinched once.
No tears.
No hesitation.
And frankly, Davin felt like the weakest of the candidates so far.
Why?
Because according to the system—the ever-helpful narrator of his inadequacies—he was.
While the other twelve had used their Pulse Points to grind stats, buy skills, train like lunatics, Davin had done the bare minimum.
He hoarded his points like a miser hoards coins, terrified of dropping below the zero that meant instant death.
He is literally scared about going to the "great beyond", which is known as a one way trip.
So he doesn't expect himself to be treated specially, by the system, by being spoon fed everything in order to be a chubby heir!
His downside though, he was also such a lazy brat... as if the curse he carried was sloth not pride.
Basic training? He would avoid most of it as if allergic to jogging alone.
His stats progress? Purely accidental.
Usually achieved by sheer staying alive stubbornness and a lucky break or two.
"But I'm not that pathetic… right?" he murmured as the shadows of the forest thickened around him.
[To be honest with you— you are quite pathetic host. In fact, without your mother's curse, you are completely useless.]
"...!!"
[I wonder how the time orb even accepted you in the first place.]
"The fact that it did choose me proves I'm not—"
[You wanted me to be real with you?]
'...'
[Don't lie to yourself. You don't have what it takes to survive in here.]
"Hey! Just because I haven't used my points according to how you want, doesn't mean you can talk to me like I'm trash!"
[I'm not being rude, Host. I'm giving you facts.]
"Still—!"
[Would you like to know your current survival statistics?]
"...No—I don't think so—"
[You have a 1% chance of surviving this forest and making it out alive. A 0.1% chance of living to adulthood. And a 0.0001% chance of completing your current mission and becoming an Elementalist.]
"..."
Silence.
Cold, crushing silence.
Even the wind between the trees seemed to hush, waiting to hear his reaction.
'Can't believe it's that bad...' The boy thought, taken aback by his current situation.
[Well. Numbers don't lie... do they?]
"..."
[So you should just give up on your two long term goals. Since you won't be—]
"I'll prove you wrong!" he snapped, before quickening his steps like he could outrun the voice in his head.
But the forest had its own plans.
Without warning, a massive root curled just beneath the surface, caught his foot.
He stumbled—and slammed face-first into a patch of wet moss that smelled like rotting eggs and dead leaves.
"Fuck!" he shouted, face contorted in pain and disgust.
As he pushed himself upright, a sharp sting lit up along his neck.
Then another on his wrist. Then—everywhere.
Ants.
Hundreds of tiny red devils swarming from the underbrush, crawling under his shirt, sinking their jaws into his skin like this was their forest, and he was the idiotic intruder into their domain...
"ARGH! Get off me!" he yelped, slapping wildly.
He staggered forward, brushing himself, only to plunge downhill into a thicker grove.
The air grew even more humid—sticky, wet. He barely had time to breathe before the next assault came.
Mosquitoes.
Tiny, whining wings buzzed around his ears. One bit his neck.
Another hovered near his eye.
He slapped it—and his vision blurred for a split second.
"What the hell!? There are mosquitoes in this world too?!"
He stood still, panting.
"This sucks..." he muttered, squinting up at the crooked branches overhead.
The trees leaned inward like gossiping old men. Their canopy darkened the sky.
And shadows crept along the ground like crawling fingers.
The air smelled of wet bark, mold, and something faintly metallic—blood, maybe. His blood.
Every sound—every rustle, chirp, and buzz—felt hostile.
He had thought the outside world would welcome him, maybe even acknowledge him as 'some important guy with a system'.
Instead, the wild side of it did the opposite...
And this was only the welcome gift.