“Heh… guess breakfast time’s a thing here, too,” he mumbled, sheepishly extinguishing the tiny arcs of electricity.
He allowed himself a moment to take in his surroundings. No dream, he mused, remembering the surreal events of the previous day—his new powers, the goblin fight, the miraculous healing. A grin tugged at his lips despite the early hour.
Nearby, Petros lay curled up in a ball next to the remains of their cold campfire. He stirred at Jack’s motion, then sat up, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Morning,” Jack said, greeting the boy with a nod. “Guess we need to eat even in a game world.”
Petros groaned, rubbing his grumbling belly. “Unfortunately, yes. Wouldn’t it be nice if we had instant rations or something?”
“We might have to forage,” Jack replied, pushing himself to his feet and stretching out the kinks from a night on hard ground. “We can’t count on random loot or freebies if this place runs anything like an actual MMO.”
Petros nodded, expression uncertain. “Do you know what’s safe to eat out here? I’m not exactly a pro at identifying wild berries.”
“I’m not either,” Jack admitted with a shrug. “But hey, we can try to see if anything stands out. Worst case, maybe we find apples or something.”
They spent the next hour wandering the immediate vicinity, scanning bushes, peeking under low branches, prodding the ground for mushrooms, and carefully checking for fruit-bearing trees. They only found a few thorny shrubs and some unidentifiable leaves that Jack wasn’t brave enough to taste.
“Man, why is it so much harder to find food in VR simulation?” Jack muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. “In games, you just open treasure chests full of random bread loaves or find apples lying around…”
Petros snorted softly. “Yeah, well, apparently, we have to earn it here. Maybe we’ll stumble on a village—if we’re lucky.”
Finally, they abandoned the foraging mission, continuing down the dirt road, hoping to encounter a settlement or a more fruitful woodland. With stomachs still grumbling, they trudged on, occasionally scanning the roadside for anything edible. The sun rose higher, warming the path, and soon, they’d been walking for nearly an hour.
Suddenly, Petros tensed, grabbing Jack’s arm. A soft rustling emanated from the brush near the path’s edge. Petros pressed a finger to his lips to signal silence. Jack’s breath caught as he listened intently.
Rustle… rustle…
It came again, and both felt the tell-tale vibration at their pouches—the journals alerted them. Without physically pulling them out, a familiar mental overlay flashed in Jack’s mind:
Wild Boar Level 2
Wild Boar Level 2
Wild Boar Level 2
Wild Boar Level 3
Jack shot Petros a glance, sparks already crackling between the fingers of his left hand. “Stay behind me,” he whispered, pushing the boy backward with his right arm.
Petros nodded, hands glowing with a faint golden aura as he immediately prepared to channel healing magic. He gulped, scanning the undergrowth nervously.
Suddenly, a large boar exploded, tusks gleaming from the brush to their right. It charged straight for Jack with startling speed. Jack jolted back and nearly tripped over Petros, who had braced himself behind him.
“Look out—!” Jack barked.
Petros reacted quickly, pressing into Jack’s lower back to keep him upright. The boar’s tusk scraped across Jack’s thigh as it careened past, leaving a bloody gash that flared with pain. Thanks to Petros's support, Jack hissed but didn’t lose his footing. The creature vanished into the brush on the opposite side of the road.
“Ow, that’s deep,” Jack groaned, grimacing at the hot sting. “But I’m good—just don’t let ‘em flank us!”
No sooner had he spoken than three more boars burst out from the bushes, trampling the road in a swirl of dust and snarling squeals. Jack clenched his jaw, raising his sparking hand high.
“Time for a zap, bacon-breath!”
A sizzling lightning arc blasted from Jack’s fingertips, searing the closest boar. The electricity chained to the second and then to the third in a dazzling display of crackling power. Meanwhile, Petros pressed a glowing palm against Jack’s thigh, flooding the wound with golden healing energy. The cut mended almost instantly, and Jack felt fresh adrenaline course through him.
A shared notification flashed in their minds:
Wild Boar Level 2 has died. Experience gained.
The other two boars, though still alive, collapsed in a momentary stun from the electrical shock. Jack’s eyes narrowed as he prepared a Fire Rain spell—but a pained cry snapped his focus. He spun around just in time to see the first boar, the Level 3, slam into Petros from behind. The impact sent the boy sprawling face-first into the dirt.
“Petros!” Jack snarled, heart pounding.
The boar pinned Petros under its bulk, tusks digging at his clothes, preparing to gore him. Fury and fear surged through Jack. He pivoted swiftly, splitting his spells: with his left hand, he let loose the Fire Rain over the two stunned boars on the road, and with his right, he seized the back of the Level 3 boar’s head, unleashing a savage point-blank lightning strike into it.
“Eat sparks!”
Red and blue light flared in a flash of sizzling energy. The air filled with the stench of scorched hair and the squeal of dying animals. One after another, the boars fell with thuds and squeals that choked off into silence.
A new flurry of notifications burst into Jack’s mind:
Wild Boar Level 3 has died. Experience gained.
Wild Boar Level 2 has died. Experience gained.
Wild Boar Level 2 has died. Experience gained.
Panting from the effort, Jack crouched, hands braced on his knees. His ears rang, the metallic tang of ozone still tickling his nose. Then a muffled cry drew his attention—Petros, pinned under the enormous boar’s body.
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“Oh crap!” Jack exclaimed, scrambling to yank the dead beast off the boy. “Kid, you good?”
Petros pushed himself upright, coughing dust from his lungs. He gave Jack a shaky thumbs-up. “I’m… yeah, I’m okay,” he managed, still wide-eyed from the near-mauling.
Jack quickly checked Petros for wounds, relieved to find only minor scratches. He then glanced at his thigh, where the boar’s tusk had gouged him. Thanks to Petros’s swift healing, not even a scar remained.
“That was intense,” Petros breathed, heart hammering. He slumped back onto the ground. “But we took them all down!”
Jack collapsed beside the kid, propping himself on his elbows. “That’s one word for it,” he said, ruffling Petros’s hair. “At least we’re alive—and I guess we’ve got breakfast now if we can carve it up.”
Like clockwork, Jack’s journal thrummed with an alert:
Loot Wild Boar Level 2? Yes / No
Loot Wild Boar Level 2? Yes / No
Loot Wild Boar Level 2? Yes / No
Loot Wild Boar Level 3? Yes / No
“Hell yeah,” he muttered, circling Yes for each. The book responded:
You have received 10 copper coins, ruined boar skin, cooked boar meat.
You have received 10 copper coins, ruined boar skin, cooked boar meat.
You have received 10 copper coins, boar skin, raw boar meat.
You have received 12 copper coins, boar skin, raw boar meat.
Petros mirrored Jack’s actions, eyes widening at his own haul. Each rummaged in his pouch, feeling odd lumps and objects that shouldn’t logically fit. Jack produced a 10-ounce slab of fully cooked boar meat, still steaming and surprisingly appetizing. Petros did the same, and the two exchanged a stunned look.
“It even comes cooked,” Petros marveled. “That’s… unbelievably convenient.”
“May have been from my fire rain on the two stunned,” Jack remarked.
“Minecraft rules,” Petros replied, nodding his approval.
Jack didn’t hesitate. He tore into the meat with relish, moaning as the juicy flavor hit his tongue. Petros followed suit, devouring the steak with equal enthusiasm. Silence reigned for a few blissful minutes while they stuffed their faces, each chunk of tender boar melting in their mouths.
“Oh man, that’s good,” Jack gasped around a bite, eyes half-lidded in contentment. “Still not sure how all this works, but I’m not complaining.”
Petros swallowed, then grinned. “I feel like I could battle a dragon now,” he joked, though his voice still held a tinge of post-battle shakiness.
Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a satisfied groan. “I’d settle for a break, kid. Let’s breathe for a minute before we walk into the next ambush.”
They shared a worn-out laugh, relief filling the morning air like a gentle breeze. But even as they savored their hard-won meal, neither forgot how close a call it had been—and how dangerous this world was.
With their stomachs full—albeit a bit thirsty—Jack and Petros resumed their journey along the well-worn dirt path. Now that the morning chill had given way to gentle warmth, the trail felt far less hostile than the night before. For a while, they ambled on in silence, each lost in thoughts of what might lie ahead.
At last, the narrow lane merged onto a much wider road—its hard-packed gravel deeply rutted, a testament to countless wagon wheels. Jack noted that the road was broad enough that two compact cars could have passed each other with room to spare.
“So I guess this is the main highway?” Petros ventured, shielding his eyes from the sun as he peered down both directions.
Front and center, an old wooden post stood at the junction—several rectangular signboards jutted from the post, each tapering to a pointed end. Most looked faded and worn, the lettering bleached by sun and rain, but a couple appeared more recently maintained.
“POIs—Points of Interest,” Jack mused, pointing at the readable signs. “We got… Fort Harjil and Dark Woods that-a-way.” He angled his finger to the right, then swung it to the left. “And Pendle Village and Ciames Road going the other direction. Though they’re written in some weird script, my brain’s translating them into English.”
Petros leaned in, squinting at the signage. “Yeah, my eyes see something else, but my mind immediately converts it.” He ran a finger along the letters. “Guess that’s part of the ‘game mechanic,’ huh?”
“Probably,” Jack replied with a shrug. “As cool as Dark Woods sounds, I’m not up for a total horror show yet.”
Petros’s wide eyes confirmed his agreement. “That place sounds like we’d need to be at a much higher.”
“So… left it is,” Jack said with a smirk, “Pendle Village might have food supplies—or I dunno, a change of clothes.” He glanced down at his ragged shirt and muddy pants, wincing. “Yeah, definitely need clothes.”
Petros grinned. “Same. I could use a pair of boots that aren’t half coming apart.”
Just then, both of them felt an unmistakable buzz from their journals. They shot each other a look before fishing them out. Jack read the sudden text that formed on the page:
Area uncovered. Map updated.
“Map?” he repeated, cocking an eyebrow. “We had a map?”
Almost in response, new words scrolled across the parchment:
See back of journal for area map.
Curiosity sparked, Jack flipped to the back of his journal. Sure enough, a folded parchment was affixed to the final page. He gently tore it free. Unfolding it revealed a largely blank map—tiny sketched trees, a thin trail, and a more prominent road crossing each other in the middle. Two green dots glowed at the crossroads.
Petros whistled softly, clearly examining the same. “That’s us, right?” he asked, tapping his own open journal. “Look, there’s the signpost drawn in miniature.”
“Pretty slick,” Jack said. “It even shows we’re at the intersection—hey, check this out.”
A yellow dot popped up on the map, lurking off to the right, presumably near Fort Harjil or the Dark Woods. Jack felt a ripple of tension. He and Petros shared a glance, then turned their gazes down the road. At first, there was nothing but the sunlit bend. But moments later, the clip-clop of hooves reached their ears, and a horse-drawn wagon trundled into view.
“Uh,” Petros murmured, taking a half-step behind Jack, “what do we do?”
Jack swallowed, raising his chin. “We stand our ground, kid,” he whispered, though the stranger was still too distant to hear. “Keep your guard up, just in case.”
Petros nodded. His fingers glowed with a faint blue aura, a quiet preparation for summoning his Spirit Guardian if needed. On the other hand, Jack let his arms hang at his sides. He knew he could conjure fire or lightning in the blink of an eye if push came to shove.
As the wagon neared, they could see the portly gentleman at the reins. He wore a tattered, wide-brimmed hat that looked halfway between a cowboy hat and a lopsided sombrero, covering thick brown hair streaked with gray. A wild, bushy beard framed his rosy cheeks. He was humming a jolly tune, the melody carrying on the breeze. Something about his relaxed demeanor and lively singing immediately put Jack and Petros at ease.
“Stoln, stoln!” the stranger called out to his horses as he yanked back on the reins. The wagon jerked to a halt with a clatter of wheels and a final thump of hooves.
He craned his neck to look at the two travelers. A broad grin split his bearded face.
“Well, well!” he boomed, his tone hearty. “Fancy meetin’ folks at the crossroads this early. Good morning to ya!”
Jack exchanged a glance with Petros, then took a step forward, ignoring the leftover twinge of adrenaline in his veins. “Morning!” he called back, trying to sound casual but keeping a healthy dose of caution in his posture. “Didn’t expect to see many travelers out here.”
The large man guffawed, patting his ample belly. “Haven’t you heard? Fort Harjil’s been a hub of trade these past weeks—though I’m sure they’ll be less chatty with that blasted ‘Dark Woods’ creeping so close.” He motioned toward the signpost with an exaggerated arm wave, then shifted in his seat, turning to rummage through the sacks behind him.
Petros studied the wagon. It was piled high with barrels, crates, and what looked like spare wagon parts rattling in the back. A single sizeable wooden chest jutted near the front, locked with iron bands. The horses—two sturdy brown mares—flicked their tails, seemingly unbothered by the newcomers.
“Name’s Barrow,” the man announced, tipping his battered hat. “A humble merchant, at yer service.” He squinted at Jack and Petros. “You folks look… well, you’ve seen better days, I’ll wager.”
Jack couldn’t help a half-laugh, glancing at his threadbare attire. “Yeah, that’s fair. We’ve been, uh, traveling. Not exactly flush with gear.”
Barrow’s eyes danced with curiosity. “Traveling from where, might I ask?”
“Long story,” Jack replied, unwilling to give up too much. “We were heading to Pendle Village. I thought we could get supplies and maybe decent clothes. Don’t suppose you’re heading that way?”
Barrow studied them momentarily, his jovial smile never leaving his face. “Could be,” he finally said. “Pendle’s a good place to hawk my wares. Let me guess: you’re looking for a lift?”
Jack and Petros exchanged hopeful looks. “Well, we can pay,” Petros ventured, patting the coin pouch at his hip. “It might not be enough for a fortune, but we’ve got some coppers.”
“Coppers, eh?” Barrow let out a hearty chuckle. “I trade in coppers and in a good story, so you’re welcome to hitch a ride. Plenty o’ room in the back, if you don’t mind crates for chairs!”
Petros’s face lit up, relief evident in his eyes. Jack felt the tension drain from his shoulders—riding in a wagon beat trudging along the road on foot, significantly if it cut down on the chance of random boar attacks.
“Deal,” Jack said, stepping closer. He extended a hand to the merchant. “I’m Jack, this is Petros. We appreciate it.”
Barrow clasped Jack’s hand in a firm shake that rattled his arm. “Welcome aboard, Jack ‘n Petros. Now hop on, ‘fore the day grows old. We’ll see about gettin’ you to Pendle in one piece—and maybe I’ll treat ya to a tune or two along the way.”
The merchant’s booming laugh echoed off the trees, and despite themselves, Jack and Petros found their spirits lifting. Sure, they were in a strange, dangerous land, but if there was one thing they’d learned, it was that any ally—however eccentric—could be a godsend in a world with no save points.