The red eyes in the dark fog burned like hot coals.
Arthur’s heart stopped for one long second. He stood frozen on the edge of the tiny stone platform. The cold wind whipped his black shirt against his chest, and his hands turned ice cold.
Scratch. Scratch.
A long, gray hand with sharp black nails gripped the rough edge of the gray stone. Then, a second hand appeared. With a wet, heavy sound, a creature pulled its ugly head out of the purple fog and hauled its body onto Arthur’s territory.
It was a Void Beast.
It looked like a skinny dog, but it had no fur. Its skin was gray and bumpy, like old tree bark. Its mouth was wide, full of long, yellow teeth that dripped with thick, sticky spit. Its two red eyes glared straight at Arthur, shining with a hungry, cruel light.
"Get away," Arthur whispered. His voice was shaking.
He looked around wildly. There was no sword. There was no shield. There was no magic staff. There was only the empty gray stone floor, a half-broken stone well, and his own two bare hands.
The beast let out a low, angry growl—grrrrrr—and dropped onto all four of its thick legs. It lowered its head, dug its sharp claws into the stone, and lunged.
Whoosh!
The beast leaped through the air right at Arthur’s chest.
Arthur’s survival instinct took over. He did not have time to think. He threw his body to the side, hitting the hard stone floor with a sharp thud.
Clack!
The beast’s teeth snapped shut right where Arthur’s head had been a second before. It missed him by a hair. The creature crashed onto the ground behind him, its claws scraping sparks off the gray rock.
Arthur scrambled backward on his hands and feet, his breathing coming in fast, ragged gasps. Dust and dirt smeared across his face.
The beast spun around instantly. It didn’t look tired at all. It leaped into the air a second time, faster than before.
This time, Arthur couldn’t dodge completely. The beast’s sharp claw grazed his left shoulder, ripping through his patched shirt and cutting a deep line across his skin.
"Ah!" Arthur cried out in pain as hot blood welled up from the cut.
The beast landed on the stone, shook its head, and turned around to face him again, licking the drop of blood off its claw with a long, ugly tongue. It was toying with him. It knew Arthur had nowhere to run. Thirty steps by thirty steps—that was the whole world. There was nowhere to hide.
Arthur clutched his bleeding shoulder with his right hand. His teeth were clenched. Pain burned through his arm, but beneath the pain, a cold, hard anger started to grow in his chest.
Back in the city, the rich kids called him a stray dog. They laughed at him because he had no parents and no money. And now, out here in the middle of a dark, endless void, this ugly monster wanted to chew him up and spit him out like garbage.
No, Arthur thought. I didn’t survive eighteen years of cold orphanage nights just to die on a stupid floating rock.
He scrambled up from the ground and sprinted toward the stone well at the back of the platform.
The beast barked a sharp, happy sound and chased after him, its heavy paws pounding against the stone floor—thud, thud, thud.
Arthur reached the well just as the beast jumped for his back. Without looking, Arthur reached his hand down into the well, scooped up a palmful of the glowing blue magic water, and threw it backward into the air while ducking low.
Splash!
The glowing blue water hit the beast right in the face.
It was like throwing boiling oil on bare skin. The beast shrieked in sudden, blinding agony—a high, terrible sound like tearing metal. It pawed frantically at its face, rolling around on the stone floor and thrashing its tail.
Arthur didn’t wait. He looked down at the base of the well. Half-buried in the dirt was a heavy, broken piece of the old stone wall—a jagged chunk of gray rock about the size of a melon, with sharp, rough edges.
Arthur dropped to his knees, grabbed the heavy stone with both hands, and lifted it up. His muscles strained, and sweat dripped down his forehead.
The beast recovered quickly, shaking its head and snarling with pure rage. Its red eyes locked onto Arthur, and it bared its yellow teeth, preparing for one final, fatal leap.
"Come on!" Arthur screamed, his voice cracking with fury.
As the beast lunged forward through the air, Arthur didn’t run. He stood his ground, swung the heavy stone with all the strength left in his body, and smashed it straight down into the beast’s head.
CRACK!
A sickening crunch echoed across the platform.
The heavy stone buried itself into the beast’s skull. The creature’s eyes rolled back instantly. Its body went limp in mid-air, and it crashed hard onto the stone floor, sliding a few feet before stopping right at Arthur’s boots.
Black smoke began to rise from the dead beast’s body. In a few seconds, the corpse dissolved completely into thin air, leaving behind only a tiny, glowing purple crystal the size of a coin, and a small, folded piece of old parchment.
Arthur dropped the heavy stone. He fell to his knees, panting heavily, his chest moving up and down like a broken bellows. His left shoulder throbbed with a dull, stinging pain, and his hands were covered in dust and dark stains.
He stared at the spot where the beast had vanished.
He had won. He survived his very first fight.
He was not overpowered. He had no magical spells, no sword of light, and no system cheat codes to save him. He won with dirt, quick thinking, magic water, and a heavy rock.
Slowly, Arthur reached out his trembling hand and picked up the tiny purple crystal and the folded parchment from the ground.
The moment his fingers touched the crystal, a warm, tingling feeling flowed up his arm, soothing the cut on his shoulder. The pain faded away into a dull, comfortable warmth.
Then, the small piece of parchment in his other hand unfolded itself by magic. Words glowed on the paper in neat, simple handwriting:
[ First Victory Achieved! ]
[ Reward Unlocked: Basic Dimensional Trade Gate ]
[ A wandering merchant from a neighboring universe has noticed your territory’s energy flare. A trade window is now open for thirty seconds. ]
Before Arthur could even blink, the air in front of the stone well cracked open like a thin sheet of ice. A bright, warm golden light spilled out from the crack, forming a small, floating wooden box with a brass lock, resting right in the middle of the empty air.
Inside the box, Arthur could see three simple items: a loaf of fresh white bread, a small metal dagger with a wooden handle, and a leather pouch filled with ten shiny copper coins.
A gentle, friendly voice echoed softly in his mind, coming from far away across the infinite void:
"Hello there, young Lord. First time surviving the tide? Here is a small welcome gift from the merchants of the lower realms. Trade wisely... the real storm is only just beginning."
Arthur stared at the golden box, then looked out at the dark, purple fog swirling around his tiny thirty-step island. The first battle was over, but he knew the voice was right.
This was only the very beginning.