Tutorial (10)–the bear....

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  The first rays of sunlight pierced through the veil of night, casting long shadows across the blood-soaked soil.

  The thick darkness that had once cloaked the forest began to retreat, replaced by the pale glow of dawn.

  Morning had come.

  Gavin exhaled heavily, his breath visible in the cool air.

  He leaned on his sword, the blade still slick with the dark, foul-smelling blood of shadow wolves.

  The orange light of the morning sun reflected faintly off the steel, now dulled by constant use.

  “Is everyone alright?” he asked, scanning the battered group around him.

  His voice was rough—fatigued but steady.

  A woman stepped forward, her face smeared with soot and blood, her leather armor singed from stray embers.

  Her name was Marra, one of the scout captains.

  “We’re alive,” she said, panting. “But… we lost ten.”

  Gavin's jaw clenched.

  He slammed his blade into the ground, the sound of metal striking dirt echoing like a final toll for the fallen.

  “Damn it!” he growled, fists trembling.

  All night, they had fought tooth and nail to survive—setting up as many campfires as they could, using every trap, every trick.

  The shadow wolves had come in waves, relentless and cruel.

  “It’s still a win,” Marra said gently, trying to console him. “If not for that sudden shift… we could’ve lost everyone.”

  “That was insane,” muttered Bargan, a bulky man with a greataxe, his armor dented and streaked with ash.

  “They just… stopped. And ran off. All of them. Like they were called.”

  “Yeah,” Gavin muttered, narrowing his eyes toward the deeper parts of the forest.

  “They were heading somewhere. All of them. One direction.”

  He paused, then glanced at Marra.

  “Let’s find out where they went.”

  They moved slowly, weapons ready, stepping over fallen trees and charred remains.

  The stench of smoke still hung heavy in the air, mixed with the coppery tang of blood.

  Blackened leaves crumbled underfoot.

  As they ventured deeper, the forest opened up to reveal a scene of devastation.

  Everyone froze.

  “What the hell…” Marra whispered.

  Bargan staggered a step back, his axe slipping from his hand.

  The entire clearing was scorched—reduced to ashes.

  Tree trunks were blackened and split.

  The ground was cracked from intense heat.

  Dozens of burnt trees lay scattered, some still smoldering.

  Smoke drifted lazily into the air, dancing like ghosts in the morning light.

  “Who… did this?” Bargan asked, voice shaking.

  “What kind of monster lives here?”

  Even the seasoned fighters among them shuddered.

  It was then Gavin’s sharp eyes noticed something near a half-burnt root.

  He stepped closer, kneeling to the ground.

  ‘Footprints…?’

  Human. Clear sole patterns, pressed into the soot and blood.

  And then, it hit him.

  He remembered.

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  That lone man.

  The one who had entered the forest alone the day before—calm, silent, and confident.

  ‘No way…’

  Gavin stood slowly, heart pounding.

  ‘Could it really be him?’

  He looked around at the destruction again—scorched earth, smell of blood, trees burning from the inside out.

  ‘No… That’s impossible.’

  This wasn’t the work of a man.

  It was a massacre.

  But if not him…

  Then what kind of monster could have done this?

  Gavin remained silent, a deep unease settling in his chest.

  The sun climbed higher, casting light over the ruins of the battlefield—but it brought no comfort.

  Only more questions.

  ----

  My breath was steady.

  My eyes closed.

  Sleep had finally embraced me after that hellish night.

  But something… was poking my face.

  A soft tap. Then another. A fuzzy nudge.

  I groaned faintly and cracked one eye open.

  Six tiny figures stood right in front of me—wide-eyed, fidgeting, trying to get my attention.

  One of the three rabbits was nudging my cheek with its tiny paw.

  The mole sat just beside my arm, blinking curiously.

  And the Scatterfurs were pacing nervously near my legs.

  "Oh! You’re awake!"

  A far-too-familiar voice broke the morning stillness.

  I tilted my head up with a half-dead stare—and sure enough, there he was.

  Bernet.

  Still floating like a smug spirit above the ground, his rookie guide badge gleaming slightly in the morning light.

  "Why are you still here?" I asked coldly, brushing dust from my sleeve.

  His cheerful expression twitched.

  "This bas–! Oh, I mean!" He caught himself mid-curse, smiling awkwardly.

  "It is my duty to guide and assist you, honored Challenger!"

  This lackey… I rolled my eyes.

  "It’s fine. I’ll call you when I need you. Now get lost." I waved him off like shooing a fly.

  'Tch! I would've done that if I could.'

  But instead of vanishing, Bernet hovered there, twiddling his fingers.

  "Still… you might need my help," he said, almost nervously.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  "Haa… Is it because of the report?"

  He froze.

  "...What? How do you know that?" he muttered.

  'Knew it.'

  Each junior guide in the Tower was required to write performance reports on their tutorial zone and its players.

  If the players did something impressive, survived difficult trials, or showed promise, the report would shine—and promotions would come faster.

  And I was prime material.

  "Don’t worry," I smirked.

  "Tell Fiona, I won’t die anytime soon… and I’ll make damn sure her report turns gold."

  His face lit up—but I didn’t give him a chance to gloat.

  "Now leave before you distract me again."

  "Okay! Call me if you need anything!"

  With that, Bernet vanished into the ether.

  Finally, silence.

  I sat up and stretched my limbs.

  The bark of the tree behind me was still slightly warm from the nearby fire earlier, its trunk charred black with streaks of grey ash.

  The morning sun filtered gently through the scorched leaves, casting a patchwork of golden light over the forest floor.

  Smoke still clung faintly in the air, but it was thin—harmless now.

  Nearby, the grass was trampled, and the earth was dotted with blackened spots where wolves had burned or fallen.

  But nature was already reclaiming its space; the wind carried the faint scent of moss and wet wood.

  I looked down.

  The six creatures were staring up at me, their tiny stomachs probably growling louder than they could.

  Their eyes shimmered with expectation.

  I smiled faintly and leaned back against the tree trunk.

  "You all must be hungry."

  I reached into my inventory and pulled out roasted meat.

  As I tossed chunks to each of them, their eyes gleamed with loyalty and hunger.

  Finally, I pulled out my own food and took a bite, chewing slowly as I listened to the fading crackle of forest and sound of wind.

  The forest was quiet, at least for now.

  'Status window.'

  I looked at my status.

  With last night hunt, I've reached level 13.

  --

  [Player Status Window]

  Name: Rago

  Class: None

  Level: 15

  Affiliation: None

  Trait:

  - [cold-blooded]- Remain calm and emotionally detached even in extreme situations.

  Core Attributes:

  - Strength (STR): 38

  - Agility (AGI): 40

  - Intelligence (INT): 33

  - Vitality (VIT): 25

  - Dexterity (DEX): 35

  - Endurance (END): 32

  Additional Attributes:

  - Perception (PER): 11

  -Willpower (WIL):14

  -LUCK : 8

  Combat Stats:

  - HP: 907 / 907

  - MP: 948 / 948

  - Fatigue: 3

  Skills

  Innate Skill:

  - Glimmering Eyes (Unique)

  Passive Skills: None

  Active Skills: None

  Titles: None

  Progression & Resources

  - Tower Points (TP): 1,200

  - Status Points: 20

  ---

  And also gained 20 free status points.

  I quickly invested them 5 to endurance, 5 to strength, 5 to vitality and 5 to Dexterity.

  "Hmm... time for the next thing!"

  I muttered under my breath, stretching my arms and rolling my shoulders.

  My muscles were still sore from the endless fighting through the night, but the brief rest helped.

  I can easily take down a few shadow wolves at once now.

  That was good.

  It meant progress.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Leveling up is going get harder.

  And the wolves usually stay in packs.

  It would take time hunting them all, which I don't have.

  Of course, I can purchase more light orbs but I don't want to.

  I needed a better plan.

  The next goal?

  Items. Armors. Loot.

  There had to be powerful beasts around here with drops worth something.

  I just needed to find them. And preferably not die in the process.

  I crouched down and picked up a thin, slightly curved branch.

  The tip was sharp enough to sketch with.

  Time to get creative.

  I found a patch of soft dirt and started to draw.

  It wasn’t exactly art—more like a desperate attempt at Pictionary without a timer.

  First, a large round body.

  Then, small round ears.

  I added four legs and gave them claws—long, hooked, terrifying claws.

  Sharp fangs.

  A big black nose.

  There. A bear. A terrifying, murderous bear.

  Okay, it looked like a lopsided blob with attitude, but the message was clear enough.

  I turned toward my loyal misfit squad—six monsters who had, against all odds, not eaten by me yet.

  The two Scatterfurs blinked at me, their bushy tails twitching.

  One tilted his head left.

  The other mirrored to the right.

  Pure symmetry.

  No thoughts behind those eyes.

  'Useless!'

  The one-horned mole was… digging.

  Just straight-up digging like this was the best dirt it had ever seen.

  'Stupid!'

  Then there were the three Fang Rabbits.

  Each had metallic teeth, strong hind legs, and judgmental eyes.

  Very judgmental eyes.

  I tapped the stick against the bear drawing.

  “Did anyone of you see it?”

  I asked, my tone serious.

  “This thing. Big. Claws. Probably roars a lot.”

  The Scatterfurs looked at each other, then me.

  Their blank stares said it all:

  We don’t even know what lunch is.

  The mole paused, looked up from its self-dug hole like I’d interrupted a business meeting, then went back to digging.

  Great.

  I sighed, but then—

  The Fang Rabbits took a step forward.

  Their ears perked up.

  Their noses twitched rapidly.

  Then, with a confident squeak, they started hopping in place.

  “Squee! Squee!”

  “You three saw it?”

  I pointed at the bear drawing again, tapping it for emphasis.

  The rabbits nodded so hard I thought their head might pop off.

  They began gesturing with its ears, as if trying to show how big the thing was.

  I crouched again, more determined.

  Now came the plan. The genius plan.

  I drew a few more rough faces in the dirt.

  Shadow wolves—long snouts, pointed ears, sharp teeth.

  Then, I drew two bunny heads with long ears and steel teeth.

  I connected them with arrows.

  The rabbits would run, leading the wolves.

  Then I drew the bear shape again.

  A big circle labeled BEAR TERRITORY in all caps.

  Final arrow: Wolves + Rabbits —> Bear.

  I stood up and clapped my hands dramatically.

  “See? You bait them. Wolves follow you. You run into bear territory. Wolves meet bear. Bear meets wolves. Boom. Chaos. And I… I pick off what’s left.”

  I grinned. It was brilliant.

  The rabbits stared at the diagram. Then stared at me.

  And in perfect unison, they all shook their heads.

  Hard.

  One even stomped its little foot like it was filing a protest.

  “What? Do you have no faith in me?”

  I drew myself in the dirt, a heroic stick figure standing atop a mountain.

  I added flames and sparkles for style.

  “Look! That’s me, protecting you! Heroic, dependable!”

  I tapped my stick figure with pride.

  The rabbits didn’t move.

  I sighed.

  “Okay, also… if you don’t help, I’ll kill you.”

  I said, putting a dagger over rabbits drawing.

  Instant nods. Ears straight up. Fully alert.

  Ah. Good old-fashioned motivation.

  I gave the brave rabbit a pat on the head.

  It didn’t flinch.

  That one’s a survivor.

  “Guide the way,” I said, pointing forward like some great general.

  The rabbit turned and began hopping ahead with confident steps.

  The others—Scatterfurs and the mole (who I had to pull from its hole)—fell in line behind me.

  Meanwhile, the other two rabbits split off, hopping in opposite directions.

  The baits were in motion.

  The stage was set.

  Now, let the wolves enter the lion’s—no, the bear’s den.

  With a smile in my face, I moved forward.