Dirga descended from the towering black-leafed tree, boots crunching softly against the brittle forest soil. The air smelled strange — not rotted, but thick with something unnatural, like metal and static.
As his boots hit solid ground, he paused.
There, not ten steps ahead, a snake coiled — pure white, with piercing green eyes that locked with his. Its scaled body stretched nearly six meters, thicker than his thigh. A still moment passed. Both hunter and prey assessed each other.
Dirga didn’t flinch. The Crimson Core flickered in his palm, morphing instantly into a sword. With a subtle twist of his fingers, he pulled at the gravity within the snake’s midsection, yanking it off trajectory mid-air. A telekinetic burst from his palm propelled his arm forward with brutal speed.
The blade pierced clean through the serpent’s skull.
A single hiss. Then silence.
"Huft... nice and easy," Dirga muttered, exhaling.
He crouched beside the carcass, inspecting it. The meat seemed dense, clean. Back on Earth, snake was edible. Why not here? He carved out several portions, wrapping the meat in thick leaves, and peeled the pale skin clean. It might serve as a pouch or makeshift sling later.
Nearby, he found a narrow stream. The water was dark, reflecting the blood-red sky, but after tasting it carefully, Dirga noted it wasn’t bitter or tainted.
"Good enough," he whispered.
As he chewed on cooked snake meat, his mind returned to Sasa’s last words:
2 to 3 months before the tournament.
That meant he had a target — 60 days, max.
And day one was ending.
He looked skyward. The massive eye above, once crimson, was shifting... glowing blue.
And it was pitch black.
With no moon, no stars, and the forest shadows thick as oil, Dirga knew traveling now was suicide. He couldn’t rely on his eyes — even the glowing eye above gave little light through the twisted branches. A fire might bring attention. And attention here meant death.
As luck would have it, he spotted a jagged outcropping ahead. A cave, half-covered in moss and thorn.
"I really hope there’s no owner," he muttered.
Before stepping in, he closed his eyes and expanded his awareness.
He focused on a technique he’d been developing — a gravity radar. By setting his body as the epicenter, he subtly distorted the gravity within a ten-meter radius. Any disruption, any presence, would cause a ripple.
He reinforced it with telekinesis, sweeping the interior mentally. Still nothing.
Confident, Dirga entered.
The cave wasn’t large, but dry and safe enough. The air inside was cold, but not biting. His body — transformed and hardened through combat — endured far worse.
Still, sleep would be necessary.
He summoned the Crimson Core. "Sorry, partner," he whispered with a faint smile.
The dice shimmered and morphed — unfolding into a padded, cocoon-like sleeping bag, warm and slightly glowing with faint crimson veins.
Dirga climbed in, pulling the makeshift hood over his head. His eyes drifted to the mouth of the cave — to the eerie blue eye that still watched the world like a god refusing to blink.
"Night one," he whispered, fingers tightening around the edge of the Core-woven fabric.
"Let’s see if I wake up tomorrow."
Then sleep took him — in the heart of hell’s forest, beneath the gaze of a godless sky.
Dirga woke with a jolt.
A sound — high-pitched, sharp, like claws dragging across stone — echoed through the cave.
He didn’t think. Instinct acted first.
The Crimson Core morphed into a sword mid-air as he rolled from the sleeping bag, already swinging. One slash. Two. A third sliced through the air with a hiss of steel.
Only then did he fully open his eyes.
Three twitching bodies lay before him — bats. Not massive, but larger than their Earth counterparts. One had a torn wing, another a cleaved skull. Blood dripped onto the rocks.
Dirga exhaled. "They must’ve come back to roost... and found me instead."
He knelt and inspected them briefly. Nothing unusual. They were likely nocturnal — hunting by night, returning to this cave by dawn. It was their home before he took it.
"Sorry for the invasion."
Outside, the light had shifted.
Dirga stepped out of the cave and raised his gaze to the sky.
That giant eye still hung above the world — lid now cracked open, faint red light spilling through like blood across a lens. The pupil, however, was narrow. Resting.
This sky... this eye... wasn’t just a freak of atmosphere. It blinked.
Last night, it had opened wide in the day, then shifted — glowing blue at nightfall.
A sun, of sorts. Watching. Judging.
"Red for day. Blue for night," Dirga muttered, committing it to memory.
Just then, his senses pinged.
A ripple in the gravity field.
Dirga crouched, slowing his breath. Silent. Still.
Something was nearby.
He activated his gravity pulse — subtle, sweeping — and felt it: a small figure, light-bodied, fast.
He slipped behind a cluster of darkened brush, keeping his distance.
Through the tangle of black leaves and red-tinged vines, he spotted it.
Ugly. Green. Scarred. And armed with a jagged dagger made of bone.
Dirga’s eyes narrowed. From the way it moved — relaxed but alert — this one was likely a scout or guard. Not just wandering.
And goblins never worked alone.
That meant one thing: a camp.
Dirga’s memories stirred. In the countless novels he’d read back on Earth, goblins were almost always the same — vile, violent, primitive. Creatures of appetite. They killed, they took, they kept trophies. And sometimes... they had gear. Maps. Food. Clues.
If they had a camp nearby, there might be something Dirga could use.
He stayed low, keeping at a careful distance.
His mind sharpened. He’d fought goblins before — in Sasa’s trial arena — and learned their movement, their weak points. He could kill one without much effort.
But now wasn’t the time for a fight. Not yet.
This was about information.
No mistakes. No surprises.
He shadowed the goblin silently through the twisting trees, never letting his foot crack a branch.
Ahead, the forest opened slightly — a faint wisp of smoke curled into the air.
Dirga’s fingers curled around the Crimson Core.
He was getting close.
And soon, the hunt would begin.