The mistake was small.
That was the problem.
Elias didn't even realize he'd made it at first.
It started with confidence.
Not the loud kind—the quiet, dangerous sort. The kind that came from two days of not dying, from patrol routes that stayed clean, from monsters that skirted the edge of his threat radius and never crossed it.
Patterns had formed.
Elias noticed them before he trusted them, but once he did… he relaxed.
Just a little.
"North path is clear again," he said, lowering the crude wooden marker they used to signal activity. "Third time today."
Lyrien didn't answer right away.
She was kneeling, fingers brushing over a patch of flattened grass.
"Tracks overlap," she said.
"Old ones," Elias replied. "Same as yesterday."
She looked up at him.
"How do you know?"
He hesitated.
"…Spacing. Direction. The way the blades are bent."
She studied him for a long moment, then stood.
"Then we proceed," she said.
Elias felt a flicker of pride.
They went farther than usual.
Only by a dozen steps.
Only because the terrain opened into a shallow clearing—visibility improved, angles widened, fewer blind spots.
By his calculations, it was safer.
That was his mistake.
The system didn't warn him.
The air didn't shift.
There was no roar or dramatic entrance.
Just movement—fast and low—from the left.
"CONTACT!" Lyrien shouted.
Elias barely had time to register the blur before something slammed into him.
Pain exploded across his ribs.
He hit the ground hard, breath leaving his lungs in a sharp, useless gasp.
Warning!
You have been injured.
A shape loomed above him—lean, sinewy, too many joints.
A Grayfang Skulker.
Level 1.
Normal.
Exactly the kind of monster they'd been avoiding.
Exactly the kind he'd assumed wouldn't reach them in time.
Lyrien was already moving.
Her blade flashed, biting into the creature's flank and forcing it back—but not killing it.
"Get up!" she snapped.
Elias tried.
His body didn't listen.
Not fast enough.
The Skulker lunged again.
Instinct took over.
Elias threw his arm up.
Something pulled.
Not physically—internally. Like a pressure release he didn't know existed.
SSS Skill [Devour] activated
Target slain.
The monster froze mid-leap.
Then collapsed—lifeless before it hit the ground.
Silence followed.
Elias lay there, heart hammering, staring at the unmoving body.
"I… didn't swing," he said hoarsely.
"I know," Lyrien replied.
The system chimed.
You have defeated Grayfang Skulker (Lv.1)
EXP gained: 10
Level difference modifier: 0%
Total EXP: 10 / 100
Another notification followed.
Loot Acquired:
• Raw Skulker Meat x2
• Copper Coin x3
Then, quieter:
Devour effect:
• +1 Vitality
Elias swallowed.
His chest still hurt—but less.
He sat up slowly.
"That… shouldn't have worked," he said.
"No," Lyrien agreed. "It worked because you were lucky."
That stung more than the impact.
They retreated immediately.
No argument. No discussion.
Back within the threat radius. Back to known ground.
Only once they were safe did Lyrien turn to him fully.
"Tell me what you did wrong," she said.
Elias didn't deflect it.
"I recalculated without accounting for behavior," he said slowly. "I assumed the monster followed the same patrol logic as the others."
"And?"
"And it didn't," he finished. "It waited. Ambushed. Used cover."
Lyrien nodded once.
"Predators adapt faster than systems," she said. "Never forget that."
He looked at his status again.
Still Level 1.
Still fragile.
But one stat—Vitality—now read 6.
One mistake.
One kill.
One point closer to surviving the next one.
"I don't like that my skill saved me," Elias said quietly. "It means I messed up earlier."
Lyrien sheathed her blade.
"That awareness," she said, "is why you're still alive."
That night, Elias updated the regional chat again.
[Elias]: Don't extend your safe zone just because it feels quiet. Some monsters wait. Learned that the hard way.
A pause.
Then replies—short, sober, grateful.
As he lay down, ribs aching, Elias stared at the ceiling of the basic house.
Devour was powerful.
Terrifyingly so.
But it wasn't a replacement for awareness.
It was a last resort.
And next time—
He intended not to need it.