Will sat motionless, his back pressed against a wall. The scene replayed in his mind—the blood pooling on the ground, the screams echoing in his ears, the monstrous thrashing of the beast. For five minutes, he didn’t move. His thoughts cycled through the fight, the calmness he felt unsettling him.

  These were the ones who had probably slaughtered my family, burned my home to the ground. He should’ve been angry. Furious. But all he felt was a hollow pity.

  They deserved to die, to be punished. But not like this.

  He sighed, brushing the thought away as he pushed himself to his feet. He’d deal with it later. The beasts had gone quiet, and the ruins around him were still, but he knew better than to stay put.

  The destruction stretched out before him—broken walls, shattered stones, and ash covering the ground like snow. He ran a hand along a rough edge as he walked, his gaze scanning the rubble. His belongings were gone, lost in the chaos.

  “Great,” he muttered under his breath. “No food. No weapons. Not even a damn clue what to do next.”

  His eyes shifted back to the battlefield. The two who’d fought the Alpha lay there, broken and lifeless. He grimaced, their final moments playing in his head. But as much as he hated it, a more practical thought surfaced.

  They had supplies. Gear. He remembered the man’s sword—sleek, well-crafted. And their bags could have something useful.

  Will hesitated, his stomach twisting. He didn’t want to do it. But they’re dead. It’s not like they’ll care. The logic was cold but undeniable.

  He crept closer, careful not to cut his feet on the debris. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood. He avoided looking at the bodies, focusing on their gear instead. The man’s sword lay nearby, the hilt smeared with blood. Will crouched and tried to pick it up. It was way heavier than he expected. Dropping it with a thud, he went to the pouch that had spilled its contents—a few intact vials filled with a faintly glowing red liquid. Potions maybe? It makes sense, as they also seemed to have magic.

  He grabbed them and slipped them into his pocket.

  Moving towards the bodies, he saw another pouch strapped to the woman’s waist. Avoiding looking too closely at her Will unfasten it. As he unlooped the string holding it close sharp jolt shot through his hand, stopping him cold.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, his fingers tingling.

  As he opened the pouch, he froze. This is... amazing. The inside wasn’t what he expected. Instead of a simple compartment, it stretched impossibly deep for its outward appearance, its contents floating as if weightless. Rows of vials in various colors floated on one side, near the bottom was a notebook, and a knife gleamed faintly in the dim light.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  A spatial bag? Will had heard of them before, mostly in books and in games, but he’d never expected to see one in real life—let alone use it. Hesitating, he reached in for the knife. The moment his hand passed through the opening, a sharp spike of pain shot up his arm, making him flinch. "Ow!" he hissed, shaking his hand.

  Shaking it off and tried focusing on it this time. The knife inside floated up, hovering for a moment before dropping to the ground. Caching it he was surprised by how light it seemed, its blade surprisingly sharp. Exactly the kind of weapon he needed. "Huh,” he murmured, testing its balance. “This’ll actually work.”

  A faint cracking sound interrupted his thoughts. Will tensed, his gaze snapping around untell it landed on the beast’s massive body in the distance. Its limbs twitched, and the cracking grew louder—bones shifting beneath its thick hide.

  “No way,” he whispered.

  He crept closer, his grip tightening on the knife. The creature’s body was still slumped, but its shallow breaths reached his ears. The sight of it, even now, made his stomach churn.

  If it gets back up, I’m dead.

  Without thinking, he lunged, driving the knife into the creature’s neck. The blade hit tough hide, but he pushed harder, slicing through. Blood sprayed, and the beast spasmed weakly. He stabbed again, gritting his teeth, and kept going until the monster fell still.

  Panting, Will stumbled back. His hands were slick with blood, as he wiped them on his shirt.

  And then it hit him.

  A sudden heat surged through his body, racing through his veins like fire. His muscles locked up, his chest heaving as an unbearable pain wracked him. He fell to the ground, curling in on himself, his fingers clawing at the dirt as though that might anchor him through the agony.

  Then, just as the pain began to fade, a red screen flickered before his eyes—brief, translucent, and gone before he could focus on it. Will froze, his breaths shallow and sharp.

  What the hell was that?

  He pushed himself onto his hands and knees, shaking as the pain dimmed. It wasn’t just adrenaline. It was something else, something that had changed inside him. He ran a hand over his face, trying to piece his thoughts together. The system? No, that didn’t make sense. The messengers had been clear—they’d need a blessing from the Sovereigns to access it. And those gods hadn’t given him anything.

  Yet the screen…

  Flexing his fingers experimentally, Will frowned. His hands looked the same—scarred, worn, normal. But the strength behind them was... more. He clenched a fist, feeling the tension ripple through his arm. It wasn’t just stronger—it was controlled, precise, like his body was moving more efficiently than before.

  Testing further, he pressed a hand to the ground and pushed himself upright. The movement felt fluid, easy, too easy.

  Stronger. He was definitely stronger. His body looked and felt more toned—muscles now defined where there had been none before. His steps felt steady, grounded in a way that hadn’t been there before.

  He glanced at the knife, crouching to pick it up. The blade was smeared with blood, but it was intact—sharp and sturdy. Will straightened, holding it loosely at his side as he scanned the area.

  And he saw them.

  In the distance, the creatures emerged, sprinting full-on toward him. Their battered forms were impossible to miss: one had an arrow lodged in its flank, another staggered with half of its hide scorched black. More followed, with showing and screaming following from behind.

  Will’s grip tightened on the knife as he grabbed and slung the pouch over his shoulder. His chest tightened as frantic shouts carried on the wind. People were out there, chasing the creatures. He didn’t have time to think. They were too fast.

  He turned and ran.

  The ground shifted beneath his feet with every stride as he sprinted for the forest. The yells grew louder and closer, as he weaved through the trees. Not looking back for the life of him.