Ch 4

  A minute later, with a final reminder to stay quiet, Matt moved cautiously through the woods, his head constantly swiveling as he searched for a clearing that could serve as a base of operations for the six women. Unfortunately, the task proved more challenging than he had hoped. Though every tree, rock, and patch of ground was real, the forest felt strangely artificial—as if the elements had been randomly copied and pasted into place. After three long hours of walking, he finally came upon a small hill. It was rocky and lacked towering trees, but there were plenty of smaller ones still, adding a certain rugged charm to the spot.

  Considering the group’s shared arsenal—two swords, two staffs, a bow, and an axe—Matt figured they could at least build and maintain a modest half-wall. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought that spears might have been far more useful, especially since the plan relied on them working together and the tight formation of a spear wall was a tactic with proven effectiveness. With that thought set aside, he approached the tan-skinned woman and began speaking.

  "I hope your axe is good for chopping down trees," he said.

  She replied confidently, "I don’t see why it wouldn’t be."

  Matt offered a small smile before outlining his plan to the group. The tan-blond struggled to hack her way through the smaller trees while the pair armed with swords teamed up with those wielding staffs to scout for the best building spot on the hill. Finally, he turned to the woman with the bow and gave her a detailed instruction.

  "Choose an arrow you haven’t fired yet and pick a tree as your target. Stand ten feet away from it, then continuously fire and retrieve the arrow until the arrow finally breaks. Be sure to mark your spot accurately—this test is designed to determine how many shots an arrow can sustain before it fails, so we need precise data on their durability to plan our defenses accordingly."

  She hesitated, asking, "Won’t the results vary depending on which tree I choose?"

  "Most likely," he admitted. "But unless you try for head shots—which I don’t recommend—trees should be the toughest targets when hit with full force. And if you’d rather use two arrows instead, feel free to test your accuracy on a rock next."

  She then pressed further, "And what happens if I discover there’s no way to kill enough monsters before my arrows run out?"

  At the woman’s question, Matt looked at her and saw someone hidden behind a mask of indifference, acting as if nothing ever troubled her. He suspected that mask was her tool for surviving isolation, even though he had never really cared to notice such subtleties before. Now, however, he found himself questioning why he felt repulsed by the emotional defenses each woman in the group displayed. Had Apricity shielded herself in the same way? If so, he hadn’t noticed—and, for some reason, that made him want to speak with her. Still, he pushed those thoughts aside as he prepared to respond to the woman before him.

  “Either find another way to fight or craft new arrows,” he declared. “The goblins I killed had crude weapons and makeshift clothing. If I had to bet, we’ll all be stuck here until Earth is ready for our return. Even though the countdown is in seconds, it totals over 30 million seconds—which is roughly a year. I expect that the weak are meant to perish; our true goal here is simply survival, and for most of us, working together isn’t yet necessary.”

  “What do you mean by ‘most of us’?” asked the woman with the bow.

  “You, the two carrying staffs, and several others who aren’t equipped to handle every situation will eventually need support,” Matt replied. “Later on, I’m sure I’ll need a healer or some sort of craftsman—someone to craft armor or repair weapons. That’s really why I’m even willing to delay our next move; I feel I should be seeking out a sturdy tree to turn into my base.”

  He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the rugged landscape before continuing. “Anyway, I bet if we locate the goblin village, we’ll find tools that we can repurpose. With those, some of us can eventually create better equipment. At that point, villages might become the norm, with one group exploring, another guarding, one crafting, and yet another securing food—though I’m merely spitballing based on the idea that four was the minimum number needed to succeed.”

  “Then was it wrong to split up like our group did?” another asked hesitantly.

  “Not for me,” he responded calmly and slightly arrogantly. “For the six of you, however, it might have been better to stick with the others. I suspect that, despite whatever each of the five may have thought, few would know what to do if free access were offered. But honestly, only a fool would worry about such things before this ends—we have no inkling of what awaits us once this tutorial is over, or what stands between us and that unknown future.”

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  “Some might say that is all the more reason to enjoy—”

  “If you finish that statement, I’ll leave,” Matt snapped. “This isn’t a romance novel or a tale of heroic deeds where truth and justice triumph in the end. This is a deadly survival game that will force us all to the brink—and beyond—as the danger escalates with each passing day. Now, get to testing your arrows.”

  With that, Matt turned to check on the others, silently questioning why he had even bothered to voice his inner thoughts. He knew that despite spending most of his time alone, he enjoyed putting his thoughts into words as a way to sort them out, and he reassured himself that this was exactly what he was doing. Still, he felt that he should have been more open with the woman, especially as she began giving him a look that seemed to pin her hope for survival on him. Surely, she was simply frightened, and he was acting as if he were in control to comfort her. She was grabbing at straws to find a way forward, much like the woman with the staff had done before, which blinded them to the fact that he was just as lost as they were.

  Though he moved forward with an air of outward confidence, his mind was in a whirl of panic. He sensed the lingering danger of everything that had happened since he encountered the first goblin and realized he hadn’t yet had the time to process it all. Instead, he was driven purely by instinct when he caught movement from the corner of his eye—a boar charging straight toward him.

  Without a single moment to think, Matt instinctively shifted his stance. In the next heartbeat, a sharp pain shot through him as his hands closed around the boar’s tusks. He twisted his body decisively, causing the boar to topple over and slide, dragging him along in its fall. He had managed to survive the charge by redirecting most of the boar’s momentum and even trapping it on its side. Still, he was out of options: his instincts warned him that releasing either tusk would mean defeat, yet keeping his grip would prevent him from finishing the fight. It was just then that an arrow pierced the boar’s belly, prompting it to squeal loudly. As Matt turned his head, he saw the bow-wielding woman release another arrow, which joined the first, while the tan-blond woman came running into view.

  With a single powerful swing of her axe, the boar fell lifelessly, and in addition to the modest reward of 30 experience points, an awkward silence fell over the three of them. Matt could feel that both women wanted him to acknowledge that he had needed their help, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not that he doubted the role they had played—indeed, they had arrived so swiftly that he couldn’t help but wonder what his instincts would have led him to do had he been alone. And yet, he grudgingly recognized that their aid had been vital. With that thought lingering in his mind, he finally broke the silence after a few long seconds.

  “Thanks for the assist; that fight would have been far tougher on my own,” Matt admitted with a wry smile. Though his comment was a clear cop-out, none of the women bothered to call him out, their attention soon distracted by the arrival of their four other companions. The group’s expressions shifted to one of wary disbelief as they took in the massive, 200-pound boar lying dead—a testament to the raw power of nature. Unwilling to let fear seep into their hard-won survival instincts, Matt pressed on.

  “I wonder, does anyone have some barbeque sauce? I wouldn’t mind a few pounds of salt either,” he continued, his tone light even in the midst of chaos.

  One of the women, gripping a sword tightly, looked at him with raised eyebrows. “What?” she asked incredulously. “You actually plan on eating that?”

  Matt grinned. “What other options do we have? Sure, there are plenty of edible plants around if we could just figure out which ones, but protein is king.”

  “Won’t raw meat give us diseases?” another interjected, her concern evident.

  “Not if we cook it properly,” Matt replied confidently. “Now, has anyone here ever worked with wild game before?”

  As he spoke, he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at the puzzled looks on most of their faces. Reaching into his pocket, he produced one of his roughly sharpened stones and launched into a detailed lecture on preparing the meat. At one point, he had to explain his preference for these precision-cut stones over the far sharper, yet unwieldy, swords that many carried. Although a sword might have made certain tasks easier, its awkwardness in close quarters made it less practical for his needs. Demonstrating further, he showed them how to create their own stone cutting tools, though he refrained from producing more to avoid drawing unwanted attention with noise.

  Ultimately, no substantial shelter was built; all they had were four trees arranged in a rough square, forming a makeshift wall, and the roasting boar. The boar, while it spared them from hunger that night, was a far cry from gourmet—it lacked any real seasoning and was rather bland in taste. Nonetheless, by the time Matt called it a night, he was satisfied that the six women had grasped the very basics of survival. Yet, their improvised weapons showed signs of wear; the arrows, for example, proved far from indestructible when one snapped after striking a tree merely seven times. Likewise, the tan woman’s axe had noticeably dulled after chopping through just a couple of trees.

  Observing these shortcomings, Matt felt a certain kinship with his band of survivors. He realized that although they had been given rudimentary weapons and a single, magically granted ability tailored to that weapon, such abilities often proved more hindrance than help. They were rigid and inflexible, while his own instincts allowed him the freedom to move as needed. Still, he conceded that any passive skills that bolstered his speed or strength might be worth considering. Pushing those thoughts aside, he took the first watch of the night before finally settling down to sleep, the embers of the dying fire flickering softly against the dark wilderness.