...
Aurelian lay half-buried beneath a curtain of broad, dew-slick leaves. His long white body was coiled tightly, the faint breeze carrying with it the scents of damp moss and cool earth. It had been six days since he had killed that venomous snake.
In that span, he had hunted with ruthless purpose. By now, his stats had grown formidable for something still under a meter in length:
[Level: 7] (EXP: 176/800)
[STR: 9] [AGI: 10] [END: 10] [CON: 11]
Spirit: 10 | Perception: 10 | Charm: 3
Free Points: 5
He'd noticed something strange too. At level 5, he got two attribute points instead of one. It felt like a small breakthrough point, a milestone that gave extra reward. He still hadn't spent the free points from level 4 either, so they'd stacked up. Now he had five free points just waiting for the right moment.
His skills also improved a lot and he even got a new skill after all this hunting:
[Venomous Bite (Lv3)] [Tail Whip (Lv3)]
[Lunge (Lv2)] (New): allowed him to explode forward in a sudden strike, increasing his range in a heartbeat.
He'd grown bigger too, now about 70 centimeters long, much thicker around, strong enough to crush a rabbit's throat. But he still found it disappointing.
"I have the power to snap necks and inject paralysis with a bite... yet I'm still shorter than a human arm. Pathetic."
He tried not to dwell on it. Power mattered more than size, after all. And still the forest had gotten rather empty. He'd cleared out most of the decent prey nearby. Now it was mostly frogs, insects, or tiny rodents, nothing that could give him new talents or big boosts.
For the first time since reincarnating here, he actually felt… bored.
"I didn't claw my way through two worlds to be trapped in a leafy prison. Where are the challengers? The monsters? Even a damn boar would suffice..."
He also tried to console himself by hunting smaller things purely to keep skills sharp. His tail whipped out to smash rodents into trees, his fangs sunk into terrified creatures whose hearts gave out before his venom finished them.
"Perhaps this forest is under some protection," he mused. "Or simply too small to hold more serious threats. I might soon be the biggest danger it offers."
On the other side of forest, on a well-trodden forest path shaded by ancient oaks, laughter rang through the air. It was soft, bright, carrying the careless joy only youth could muster.
A slender figure walked ahead. She was young, delicate yet radiant. Long silver hair cascaded down her back like molten moonlight. Her skin was a beautiful as jade, a gentle glow beneath the canopy's shade. Her eyes from this distance, just twin lavender lights danced with an easy curiosity.
She wore a flowing dress of soft greens and creams, embroidered with silver leaf patterns that caught the faint light. On her left wrist dangled a thin bracelet set with tiny gems that looked like droplets of starlight.
This was Grace El'Silvaris, a high elf by blood and daughter of a powerful duke, often called "Seventh Princess" by courtesy. Not because she was in line for a throne but because her bloodline carried the prestige of ancient high elven nobility.
Beside her were two distinct figures.
The first was tall, with hair the color of polished bronze pulled into a warrior's braid. Her armor was elegant, fitted like a noble dress yet reinforced at the shoulders and waist with fine elven steel that glinted in the light. A long sword rested against her hip, its sheath covered in intricate vine engravings. Her name was Selina El'Vaenor, the princess's battle-maid, tasked with her protection.
The second companion, a little shorter, moved with a serene poise. Her gown was a scholar's robe of forest hues, embroidered with tiny living blossoms that trailed from her sleeves. Around her waist was a belt that held scrolls, pouches of herbs, and a staff of living wood topped with curling green shoots. This was Lyria El'Thelyn, specialized in nature and healing as much a guardian as Selhira, but of a softer kind.
In fifteen days, Grace would turn sixteen, the formal age to enroll at the prestigious Transcendent University, where she would spend the next year under rigorous training.
Her heart, however, was not yet ready for solemn commitments, although she was extremely exited about becoming a Transcendent, she still didn't want to loose her fredom.
"Your Highness, please slow down. You'll trip on these roots," one of them fretted, her hands clutching a small satchel filled with delicate papers and ink pots.
"Oh hush, Lyria. If I trip, I'll simply learn how not to do it again." Grace's laughter was like bells, her golden eyes sparkling with mischievous light.
The other maid, older and sterner, adjusted her dress and sighed.
"It's all well to have some fun, Your Highness, but do remember your father entrusted us with your safety."
"And we are perfectly safe," Grace declared, spinning in place to admire the way motes of dust danced in the sunbeams. "This is our own domain. The protective wards along the territory's edge keep out anything truly monstrous.
Her tone carried an innocent, earnest conviction. Yet underneath it lay a simple truth: this was her last taste of pure freedom, At the university, there would be no long forest walks, no idle days spent chasing butterflies or studying how dew pooled in clover cups.
Meanwhile, Aurelian was trying to find some prey. His tongue flicked out, catching warmth, salt, tiny motes of fur drifting on the still air. He slithered through a patch of blue-green ferns, coils tense, ready to pounce.
Then a new aroma hit him heady, vibrant, laced with something strange. Not quite beast. Not quite flower. Rich with vitality, like the rush of fresh blood over his fangs.
He stopped dead, tongue flickering rapidly. His nocthermal vision painted three glowing silhouettes ahead, each a vivid, pulsating furnace compared to the cooler forest backdrop. One was gentle, pure, smoother almost delicate. The other two were intense like fires.
"Not animals," Aurelian realized, a ripple of primal thrill coursing through him. "Not quite like humans either. But close."
His instincts honed through two lifetimes of violence screamed opportunity. Whatever they were, they were sources of power. Perhaps even talents. If they proved weak, they would be devoured. If strong... well, perhaps even better.
He crept closer, silent as frost forming. His white scales were nearly invisible against the tangle of pale roots and stones.
Grace crouched by a cluster of delicate silver-capped mushrooms looking at them with bright eyes.
"See here, Lyria" she said to the older maid. "These caps reflect faint luminescence after dusk. Such beautiful wonders of nature."
"Yes, Your Highness," Lyria replied, peering over the princess's shoulder. "Do not touch them directly. They might have subtle poisons."
From his vantage behind a fallen log, Aurelian watched, mesmerized despite himself. Her voice, her laughter, even the way her hair caught stray beams of light it all stirred something distant and uncomfortable in his reptilian chest.
But more than that, it stirred hunger. Not for flesh. For possibilities.