Ming Xuan Ji flipped the skewered monster meat over the crackling bonfire, the flames casting flickering shadows on the rough stone walls of her makeshift cave. The meat sizzled, its juices dripping into the fire with a hiss that echoed faintly in the confined space.
She watched the fat render and pop, the smell rising thick and gamey, filling the small cave with the scent of roasting flesh.
It had been a few days since her arrival in this bewildering world, days filled with endless hunting, silent forests, and a gnawing uncertainty that clawed at the edges of her mind.
No signs of civilization yet. No distant smoke from village fires. No echoes of human voices carried on the wind. Just her, the wilderness, and the relentless grind for power.
The cave was nestled halfway up a jagged mountain, its entrance partially obscured by overhanging vines heavy with dew-kissed leaves.
She’d chosen it for its defensibility, a narrow mouth that funneled any approaching threats into a kill zone, and the nearby stream that provided fresh water she could hear bubbling just outside.
The air inside was cool and damp, carrying the faint mineral tang of the rock, mingled with the smoky aroma of roasting flesh. Outside, the forest stretched like an infinite sea of green, its canopy a tangled mosaic of broad leaves and twisting branches under a sky dotted with unfamiliar stars.
As the meat browned to a crisp edge, Ming Xuan Ji gazed upward through the cave’s opening. The three moons hung like luminous pearls in the velvet night, their light weaving triple shadows across the landscape.
The stars were a chaotic sprawl, nothing like the constellations she’d glimpsed in her old life or the meticulously designed night skies of UBAO’s Xantia. No Big Dipper, no Orion’s Belt, just alien patterns that twisted her sense of place even further.
She stared at them for a long moment, trying to find some familiar shape, but there was nothing. Just strange lights in a strange sky.
‘Where the hell am I?’ she thought, a familiar frustration bubbling up. The question had become a constant companion, whispered in the quiet moments between fights and sleeps she no longer seemed to need.
The summoner’s voice echoed in her memory: “O Savior, please save this world.”
‘Save it from what?’
And how, if she couldn’t even find a single soul to guide her? The words felt heavier every time she remembered them. Savior of what? An empty forest? A world with no people? Or was she just a pawn in some cosmic joke, dropped here with cheats and no instructions?
She’d hunted relentlessly on her journey here, her [Divine Eye of Veritas] scanning for threats and opportunities alike. Any monster whose Qi signature registered as challenging but not suicidal had met a swift end.
A pack of horned boars with tusks like curved sabers? Dispatched with precise [Demonic Echo] strikes to their skulls, their essence flooding her dantian like a warm elixir that made her stronger with every kill.
A slithering serpent-thing coiled in the underbrush, its scales shimmering with illusory camouflage? She pierced its deception with her divine sight, ending it before it could strike, the golden threads of its life flowing into her without resistance.
Each kill had bolstered her strength, her meridians widening, her Qi reserves deepening. She was growing at a pace that would have broken UBAO’s balance, faster than even a New Game run.
Her body was changing in ways she could feel; bones denser, muscles more responsive, her senses sharper with every passing day. But as she experimented during those hunts, a realization had settled in: this world didn’t align with her expectations.
In UBAO’s New Game+, enemies scaled brutally, smarter, more coordinated, with adaptive patterns that forced players to evolve or die. Packs hunted with tactics, flanking and feinting; solo beasts unleashed combo attacks that demanded perfect timing.
Here? The monsters were… mediocre. Their Qi levels suggested high-level threats, but their actual combat prowess fell short. No clever ambushes beyond the basic, no evolving strategies, just brute force and instinct. It was almost disappointing how easy some of them were becoming.
Thanks to that, she could punch far above her “level,” turning what should have been grueling battles into efficient executions. A direct hit on a weak spot with [Demonic Echo] ended most fights in seconds, the true damage vibrating through flesh and bone like a sonic hammer.
She was getting too good at this. The thrill was still there, but it was starting to feel routine.
‘It’s like they’re downgraded versions,’ she mused, prodding the meat with a sharpened stick.
The thought brought a wry smile, but it didn’t dispel the unease. Without the game’s structured progression, quests, HUD, prompts, she was navigating blind. Her growth felt organic, limitless, but unpredictable.
What if there was no level cap? What if she could ascend beyond UBAO’s endgame into realms of power she’d only dreamed of in the game? The idea was both exciting and terrifying. What would she even do with that kind of power in a world that might not have anyone to use it on?
The meat was done, well-roasted, if bland without salt or spices. She tore into it with her teeth, the dense, gamey flavor filling her mouth. She chewed mechanically, not really tasting it.
‘Calories weren’t an issue.’ Her body didn’t seem to need sleep either, or at least not as much as a normal human. She could go days without rest, the Heavenly Demon Scripture or whatever force was keeping her going sustaining her through endless hunts. It was convenient but it was also lonely.
As she chewed, her mind wandered to practicalities. Water had been easy; she’d fashioned crude buckets from felled trees, her Qi-infused hands slicing through wood like a hot knife through butter.
It was a trick impossible in UBAO, where game mechanics limited creativity to predefined skills. Here in her new reality, her only limit was her imagination. The buckets were ugly, uneven things, their surfaces rough and splintered sure, but they held water just fine. Stored in her [Void Storage Ring], they ensured she never thirsted.
She had a small collection of them now, herbs, and the growing pile of monster parts she hoped would be worth something someday.
Weirdly, she hadn’t felt fatigue since arriving. No yawning exhaustion after hours of combat, no heavy eyelids demanding sleep. In UBAO’s early game, stamina had been a nagging mechanic, draining during sprints or fights, forcing rests or potions.
Here, it was absent, her body humming with perpetual energy. ‘A blessing from the Heavenly Demon Scripture?’ she wondered.
‘Or just how this world works?’ Either way, she wasn’t complaining. With her [Divine Eye] turning night into day, revealing every glowing thread of Qi in the darkness, she saw no reason to waste time sleeping when she could be hunting instead.
Extinguishing the fire with a casual wave of her hand, absorbing the flames into her palm as per her class’s ability, devouring arts, she stepped out into the night.
The mountain loomed above, its slopes a rugged tapestry of craggy rocks, twisted pines clinging to sheer faces, and patches of hardy grass swaying in the chill breeze.
The air was crisp, laced with the scent of pine resin and distant rain. She decided to climb now, using the peak as a vantage to scout for civilization. If nothing else, it would give her a goal beyond endless wandering. The climb would be good practice for her Qinggong anyway.
Her Qinggong propelled her upward in graceful bounds, feet barely touching the uneven terrain before launching again. Cliffs that would have daunted climbers became mere stepping stones; she leaped from ledge to ledge, her hanfu billowing like raven wings.
The wind whipped her ponytail, carrying the faint cries of nocturnal creatures. Along the way, her senses picked up monsters nesting in the mountainside, mostly avian types, their Qi signatures flaring like beacons in her divine vision. She ignored most of them. She was looking for something specific tonight, a vantage point, a new perspective, maybe even a sign of people.
A flock of pterodactyl-like beasts perched on an outcrop, their leathery wings folded, beady eyes scanning for prey. Their scales gleamed under the moonlight, auras pulsing with wind-aspect Qi that suggested swift dives and aerial assaults.
‘Tempting, but without flight or strong ranged attacks, engaging them would be inefficient, a waste of time chasing shadows in the sky.’
She bypassed them, focusing on grounded foes. A herd of goat-like creatures with spiraling horns and rocky hides scrambled across a narrow path, their hooves clattering on stone. These were fair game.
She ambushed the lead one, dropping from above like a shadow. [Demonic Echo] to the base of its skull, vibrations shattering bone and brain in a muffled boom. It collapsed without a sound, essence flowing into her as the herd scattered in panic.
She pursued, dodging a frantic charge from another, her Qinggong turning the treacherous slope into a dance floor. A palm strike to a weak joint felled the second; the third met its end mid-leap, her hand slapping its underbelly and rupturing internals. The fight was over in moments, their carcasses harvested and stored.
Each absorption sent a thrill through her, dantian swelling, body refining itself into something sharper, deadlier. She was getting stronger. She could feel it in every movement.
Hours blurred as she ascended, the path growing steeper, the air thinner and colder. Frost rimed the higher rocks, and the wind howled, tugging at her robes.
But the [Heavenly Demon Raiment] adjusted seamlessly, warming her against the chill like it had its own will. She was grateful for the artifact. Without it, this climb would have been miserable.
Finally, she crested the peak just as the sky began to lighten. The horizon shifted from inky black to deep navy, then a soft azure, clouds tinged with the first hints of gold.
The sun rose in a blaze of color, orange and pink bleeding across the sky, illuminating an endless vista of forest below. She stood there for a long time, just breathing, watching the light chase away the shadows. It was beautiful in a way that made her chest tight. This world might be empty, but it was stunning.
She turned slowly, scanning in all directions. Trees as far as the eye could see: a riot of greens interspersed with autumnal bursts of yellow, red, and even unnatural purples, fantasy flora thriving in this alien world.
Mountains dotted the distance, their peaks snow-capped and misty, but no roads, no villages, no spires of castles piercing the canopy. Just wilderness, vast and indifferent.
She stared for a long time, hoping, praying, that she would see smoke or a road or anything human. There was nothing.
“Fuck my life,” she muttered, the words carried away by the wind. Resentment flared hot in her chest toward the summoner.
In the isekai stories she’d binge-read between streams, heroes were whisked to grand halls, greeted by kings and maidens, showered with gifts and quests.
Not dumped in the dumbfucknowhere, forced to play survivalist with nothing but her fists and a growing collection of monster corpses.
‘What kind of savior treatment is this? If you’re going to yank me from death, at least give me a damn map! Or a companion. Or literally anything that isn’t just more trees and more monsters.’
She sank onto a flat boulder, letting the sunrise wash over her. Despite the frustration, the view was breathtaking, rays of light piercing the mist, turning dew into diamonds on the leaves far below.
Nature’s majesty soothed her frayed edges, a reminder that this world, for all its isolation, held beauty. If she were near civilization, she could imagine building a retreat here, a quiet haven amid the peaks.
But no, survival demanded movement. Spotting other mountains as landmarks, she etched their positions into her memory to avoid circling aimlessly. She would not get lost. She would not give up.
With a sigh, she descended, her mood a mix of determination and growing impatience. And just like that, days blur, weeks turn into a month.
The forest became a monotonous blur, trees blending into an eternal green labyrinth. Ming Xuan Ji’s patience eroded like sandstone under rain; she was sick of it, the isolation, the silence broken only by monster roars, the endless cycle of hunt and travel.
Every day started the same: wake up (if she even slept), hunt, absorb, move, repeat. The days bled together until she lost track of how long she’d been here. A week? Two? A month? Time had no meaning when there was no one to share it with and nothing to mark its passage except the growing pile of corpses in her ring.
Her mental state frayed at the edges: flashes of doubt creeping in during quiet moments. She found herself talking to the trees sometimes, or to the monsters before she killed them.
‘Is there anyone out here? Or did I get summoned to some primordial hellhole without a single sentient soul?’ The thought chilled her more than any night wind. Loneliness gnawed, a foreign ache for someone who’d thrived on solo streams but now craved even a hint of company.
She missed the sound of another human voice. She missed arguments. She missed being told she was doing something wrong or right. She missed existing in someone else’s eyes.
She pushed harder, her Qinggong at full throttle. Trees whipped past in a haze, her speed rivaling a modern car on open roads, faster, even, as she vaulted over roots and streams without slowing.
Only monsters halted her: she refused to pass up growth opportunities. Her [Void Storage Ring] swelled with spoils, mostly monster carcasses and herbs, filling a noticeable chunk of its vast space. That alone spoke to the slaughter: thousands of beasts felled, their essence propelling her forward. She was a one-woman extinction event for the local wildlife.
But progress slowed. Fewer monsters matched her escalating strength; what once challenged now died too easily. She was far from UBAO’s peak, meridians still refining, Qi not yet an ocean, but without a level cap, the horizon felt infinite. Still, the grind wore on her mind.
She was getting stronger, but she was also getting bored. And being bored was dangerous. Boredom made you careless.
Physically peak, mentally exhausted. She ate tasteless meat by rote, hunted with mechanical precision, and ran like a woman possessed. After a month, she’d covered distances that should get her to a settlement, yet, still no end to the forest.
No oceans, no plains, just trees. Endless, mocking trees that all looked the same after a while. She started carving marks into trunks just to prove she’d been somewhere before, only to find she’d circled back to her own marks days later.
‘Don’t tell me this is one of those xianxia worlds,’ she thought bitterly, ‘where planets are the size of solar systems, and travel takes years.’
The possibility loomed, twisting her gut. Reincarnation was real; why not absurd scales? What if she was trapped in an endless loop of forest, doomed to hunt the same monsters forever while the world stayed empty?
A heavy sigh escaped her lips, hanging in the air like mist. Doubt festered: What if civilization didn’t exist? What if she were alone forever, a demon queen ruling beasts? The thought was both terrifying and strangely appealing. At least then she’d have subjects. Even if they were just monsters.
Then, at the periphery of her expanded senses, now spanning miles, a flare. A monster’s Qi, potent and raw, stronger than any she’d faced but within reach. An ideal challenge, pulsing like a beacon in the darkness.
It had been there for days, she realized now. She’d been sensing it on the edge of her awareness, always just out of reach, always calling to her like a challenge she wasn’t ready to answer.
Sanity frayed, caution abandoned. Her unstable mind latched on: ‘Finally, something worth fighting.’ A crazed smile split her face as she veered toward it, feet blurring over the forest floor. The wind howled in her ears, adrenaline surging.
Whatever lurked ahead, it would pay for her frustration, in blood and essence. She was done with the small fry. She was done with the waiting. She was done being alone with nothing but her own thoughts and the endless green.
She ran toward the strongest thing she could sense, and for the first time in weeks, she felt something close to hope. Or maybe it was just the promise of a good fight. Either way, it was better than the silence.