Ethan slept lightly, as he always did in this strange world. Every sound, every crack of branches in the distance kept his nerves on edge. He had grown used to it, though—it was survival instinct now, not paranoia. That night, however, the forest itself seemed to hold its breath.
He woke suddenly.
A tremor ran through the earth beneath him, faint but unmistakable, like the ground shifting its weight. His eyes snapped open, and he froze, still lying on the bed of leaves he had made. His first thought was that it might be another small animal prowling, but no—this was deeper, heavier, as if something massive had pressed its hand against the soil.
He stayed motionless, barely breathing, listening.
Then he heard it: a low, rumbling growl that seemed to roll up from beneath the ground itself. The sound made his chest tighten, his skin prickle. He reached slowly for the rusty sword lying beside him. The shield was nearby too, propped against the stone wall of the ruined house where he had been camping. He had chosen the house for shelter, but now it suddenly felt like a trap.
A thud shook the earth again. Then another. The sound of something walking—something heavy enough to make the ground shudder.
Ethan crouched and peeked through the gap in the ruined doorway. The moonlight filtered through tangled vines, casting strange shadows. At first he saw nothing, just the still trees and the overgrown path. But then the ground in the distance rippled, as if the soil itself were breathing.
And then it emerged.
A creature unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was massive, hunched, its body seeming half-flesh, half-stone. Its back bristled with jagged, rock-like protrusions that shifted with its muscles. Its arms were thick, ending in clawed hands, and as it moved, the earth beneath it groaned. Its eyes glowed faintly with a dull amber light—like molten rock smoldering in a cave.
Ethan's throat went dry. This was the same type of monster he had glimpsed before—the one that wielded earth magic. And now it was here.
The creature stopped near the stream, snuffling, as if sniffing the air. Ethan realized with horror: it was tracking. Maybe it had caught the scent of the fish he had cooked earlier, or the faint traces of his footsteps.
If I stay here, it'll find me…
His heart pounded. Slowly, silently, he strapped the shield onto his arm and picked up the sword. It felt ridiculously light and fragile compared to the thing outside, but it was all he had. His body screamed to run, but he forced himself to think. If he bolted blindly, the sound would draw the monster instantly. He had to be careful.
The creature took another step. The ground near the ruin cracked, small stones rolling from the broken walls. Ethan clenched his teeth, every muscle trembling.
Suddenly, the beast slammed its fist into the soil. The ground split with a sharp crack, and a jagged line tore through the earth, racing toward the ruin. Ethan barely had time to react—he leaped aside as the floor buckled, stone and dirt bursting upward like a miniature quake. He stumbled out into the night, shield raised, sword shaking in his hand.
The creature turned its head, eyes locking onto him. A guttural roar erupted, echoing through the forest. Birds scattered from the trees, screeching. Ethan's chest constricted with terror, but adrenaline pushed him forward.
The beast lunged.
Ethan raised the shield just as its clawed arm swung down. The impact rang in his bones—the rusty shield dented under the blow, but it held enough to deflect the strike. The force threw him backward, nearly knocking the breath out of him.
"Too strong—way too strong—" he gasped, scrambling to his feet.
He slashed with the sword, more out of desperation than skill. The blade scraped against the creature's stone-like hide, sparks flying. Barely a scratch. The monster growled, lifting its arm again.
Ethan ducked, rolling across the ground. Dirt filled his mouth, his clothes tearing on sharp rocks. He stumbled toward the stream, heart hammering. The sound of the beast's steps thundered behind him.
Think, Ethan, think!
The water. Maybe it wouldn't follow him in? He splashed into the stream, gripping the shield tight. The cold shocked his legs, but he forced himself forward. The creature reached the bank and hesitated, glaring with burning eyes. For a moment, Ethan thought it might stop.
Then the ground beneath the stream heaved. Stones jutted upward, splitting the water, sending waves crashing around him. The creature could bend the earth even here.
Panic surged. Ethan forced himself to climb the bank on the far side. He slipped, his sword nearly falling from his hand, but he dragged himself up, lungs burning. Behind him, the monster snarled and pounded the ground, sending another tremor rolling.
He ran. Branches whipped his face, roots snagged his shoes, but he didn't stop. He didn't dare look back. Every step was survival, every gasp a plea to keep moving.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the crashing behind him grew fainter. The ground stopped shaking. He collapsed against a tree, chest heaving, sweat and dirt streaking his skin. His whole body trembled from exhaustion and fear.
The sword felt useless in his hand. The shield was dented nearly beyond use. He had barely escaped alive.
For a long time, he just sat there, clutching his bag, forcing his breathing to slow. He listened—nothing but the rustling of the night. The beast hadn't followed. Not yet.
Finally, he dragged himself to a small hollow beneath a fallen tree, just big enough to crawl into. He curled up inside, his shield set at the entrance, sword across his chest. His body ached, his eyes burned with exhaustion, but he didn't dare move further tonight.
The last thought before sleep finally dragged him under was cold and grim:
If I don't get to civilizatio soon , I won't survive the next time.