CHAPTER 36: A HAND FROM DEATH

I know I’m probably finished, but I’m not ready to die yet. I can’t leave the readers without a story either, so I’ll fight. Even if it’s useless, I’ll fight! I’m the author of this tale—who said these things can kill me so easily?

[Courage +5]

[New: Pride +10]

My dear system, not now. Unless you’ve got a super-powerful weapon that can get me out of this encirclement, I don’t need you at all!

I grab the first thing I can reach. Beside me lies a fairly large stick—nothing special, but at least some kind of weapon. These trees are sturdy, so maybe it could work as a spear if I found something to sharpen it with. Right now, it looks like it broke off from something else—one end jagged, sharp enough to poke but nowhere near lethal. I think.

I plant my feet in a defensive stance, eyes scanning every monster. They’re all close now, but no one moves. The air is heavy with tension. They’re animals after all—predators with their own pride and thrill of the hunt. They glare and growl at one another as if saying, This one’s mine. Back off.

Not that I understand animal talk...

"Wait. That’s actually a good idea. I should give myself that skill once I get out of here!"

...Haha. Look at me, already planning for survival. I freeze, realizing I’m talking to myself like some delusional fool who thinks he’ll make it out alive.

"Come then! Let’s just end this once and for all! Let’s see who’s the strongest here!" I taunt. I’ve had enough. If they won’t attack, then I will!

RRRUUUMMMBBBLLLEEE!

The beasts were already on edge, but my shout must have cut through them like a blade. The first to pounce is the cat—the same one from the other day. Will it turn into birds again? This time, I won’t be so easily injured!

I charge straight at it, driving the jagged end of my stick forward. The cat explodes into a flurry of ravens just like before, but this time I’m ready. I drop flat to the ground, letting the swarm pass overhead, then spring back up and rush straight at the giant bear. Its body is strangely fluffy, like it’s wearing ten layers of fur, its color so ashen-gray it looks like a mountain of smoke and dust come to life.

The ravens streak after me at terrifying speed. I can almost feel their beaks tearing into my back already, as if they’ve ripped me apart before even reaching me. But I grit my teeth and push forward, leaping straight at the giant bear. Its massive claw slices through the air toward me, ready to swat me into a bloody mist, but I’m not giving it that chance.

While the surrounding beasts freeze in shock, I jam my stick into the ground and vault higher, sailing over the bear’s head. I hit the ground on the other side—only to slip, tumble, and twist my foot. The pain lances up my leg, sharp enough to make me see stars.

Shit...

Still, not all is lost. The ravens crash straight into the bear, shrieking and clawing. Their wild strikes hit other beasts too, and soon chaos erupts: fangs, claws, and wings lashing in every direction. One by one, they turn on each other, somehow forgetting all about me.

Talk about plot armor. I don’t even need it, and mine’s thicker than Glorius’s. Hah!

But my foot... yeah, that’s going to be a problem. I glance down, and—oh, perfect—the bone is actually sticking out. Broken. Well... only twenty-seven more days to go...

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to ignore the pain, no matter how sharp and biting it feels.

I need to use this chance while the stupid beasts are tearing each other apart and drag myself away quietly.Whoever wins isn’t going to forget about me. In fact, they’ll probably be even more pissed and come looking for me like I’m the final trophy at the end of their little death match.

The cold, sticky forest floor is far from ideal. There are holes everywhere, and if I slip into one, I’ll end up sinking into a pool of blood—no clue if I’d even make it out again. And to make things worse, it feels like the rules don’t apply here. The system said I couldn’t use my author powers for two days... yet it’s been three. Maybe that limit only works in the world I know. This place might be a completely different world altogether.

I keep moving through the forest—well, moving might be generous. At my current pace, I’ve probably made it fifty meters at best. The fight behind me still echoes loud and clear...

I can make it. I can get away! A flicker of joy sparks in my chest. But you know that feeling when things finally start going your way... and then the world decides to smack you in the face just for fun? No? Maybe that’s just my luck.

My head slams into something solid.

I look up. Oh... nice.

What? Did you expect screaming? At this point, I’m starting to forget how to react. This forest has wrung the surprise out of me like dirty laundry.

Standing before me is a strange, almost comical figure—though "comical" might not be the right word for something this unsettling. Its entire body is made of bone, a walking skeleton, and clutched in one hand is a long, curved scythe.

"Oi! That’s my scythe! Where’d you get it? Give it back, you asshole!" I bark without thinking. Maybe it’s the adrenaline still roaring through me from breaking my foot, but I feel wired—right on the edge of snapping and doing something incredibly stupid.

The creature should be terrifying. But I’m not afraid. Why? It’s as if those empty eye sockets are... welcoming me. My shoulders loosen. My eyelids grow heavy. Even my anger starts to fade, the sounds of the distant battle melting away until it’s just me and the skeleton.

It extends a hand toward me.

And I almost take it. Instinct says it will lead me out of here. It feels like... an old friend.

But then—NO! Snap out of it, Quill! If you take that hand, you’ll die!

The truth hits me like ice down my spine.

This isn’t just some random skeleton. This is death itself.

A shiver slices through me, and for the first time in a long while, I feel a fear I never thought I’d know. The fear of disappearing.