Cedric awoke with a start, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked around, his mind racing and his breathing heavy, until the steady rhythm of the Everlast reached him. The waterfall made a soothing sound, a sharp contrast to the chaos in his head. His coyote, which he’d been using as a head pillow, looked at him with a quizzical expression, as if asking, “What’s the matter, master?”

  “My bad…” Cedric stroked the coyote's fur. The other two must’ve been off patrolling. It had to be roughly eight in the morning—his second day in this damn world. He sent a mental command, telling the coyote to go find its brother and sister. They weren’t technically blood, but the beast understood his intentions perfectly through the link.

  With the coyote wandering off, Cedric lightly gripped the grimoire resting on his chest. He sighed heavily. His mana pool felt full, but his physical energy was spent. When he closed his eyes, he still saw the pitiful look on the kobold's face and the gruesome remains left behind after the coyotes fed.

  He had ordered them to kill her fast; he hated to make anyone suffer. He wasn’t a monster—or at least, he tried to tell himself that. But to her, in those final moments, he was the only monster that mattered.

  As Cedric leaned back against a tree, Mukka fruit hanging heavy above him, Lisa materialized once again.

  “You really don’t need to feel so bad, you know.” Her tone was laced with annoyance, as if his guilt was a personal slight. “You didn’t kill her. The coyotes did. And in truth, you wanted to set her free, but she chose not to believe you.”

  Still annoyed, she crossed her spirit-like arms and looked down at him. She got on her knees, bringing her face level with his, searching his eyes.

  “Fine, yes, you killed her. But again, you wanted to let her go…”

  Cedric interjected, “You say that, but maybe I should’ve—”

  Lisa silenced him by placing her hand over his mouth. “Enough with the ‘what-ifs’ and the self-doubt. It's good that you feel bad, but it's also foolish. Your hesitation almost got you killed.” She lightly stroked his cheek as a single tear rolled down. “Many kobolds would’ve carved you up while you were busy being merciful. Master, you can’t blame yourself for the choices of others.”

  She kept her hand there for a moment. He could have spoken, but her tone—and the realization that she was trying to ground him—stopped him.

  It took a while for Cedric to find his voice again. Even after she moved her hand and sat beside him, the silence stretched. She could feel his inner turmoil; it didn't matter that he was warring with himself over right and wrong. What mattered was survival. What mattered was the book.

  “Tell me, did I do the right thing?” Cedric muttered, eyes fixed on the water. His voice was shaky, his right hand clenched so hard his nails dug into his palm.

  Lisa didn’t answer immediately. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke. “Honestly, master? Yes, you did. You tried to let her go, and in her ignorance, she got herself killed.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. The touch was warm, like a gentle coal, providing a strange sense of comfort.

  “Thank you for this.” Cedric nodded, scanning her face. Her body looked as if it were truly made of shifting energy, but it wasn't unsettling. She projected a constant, calming aura.

  “Do you have some ability to calm me?” Cedric’s eyes narrowed, more curious than accusing.

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t. You’re likely just feeling connected to me. We are technically one and the same, in a sense.” She gripped his shoulder reassuringly and then stood up. “Enough wallowing. I know you’ve been itching to use the grimoire. At least practice with it.”

  As she stepped away, Cedric sat there pondering. She was right. He had done what he could, and death was the result. He wasn’t a "bad guy," but if he needed to protect himself, he would. He had a backbone now. He wasn't a pushover anymore.

  Cedric spent another hour walking around the Everlast. He drank from the basin, marveling at the clarity of the water. He guessed the magic thinned the further it traveled from the source, so he wasn't taking any chances.

  Currently, he was trying to decipher the grimoire. The guilt was still there, a dull ache in his chest, but he felt collected enough to focus.

  “Sucks that I can't really summon anything,” he grumbled. It was a valid complaint. Anything too large or monstrous would alert the locals or nearby predators. Plus, feeding a massive beast was a logistical nightmare. Lisa had warned him that Nomads and Sultanates controlled most of the Southlands. According to her, the Sultanates were backstabbing and conniving, while the Nomads were a living cautionary tale.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Both were too dangerous to face while he was this weak. Which was why he needed to master his control.

  “Alright, let’s do this correctly. What are some of the best combat spells?” He flipped through the spell section, his fingers tracing the spine of the book. It felt surreal—just yesterday he’d almost died because a mage had plucked him from his home. He squashed the bitter thought and looked to Lisa.

  “The two best spells I recommend are Thunder Shout and Dragon Scales.” She paused, then added with a minor smirk, “Actually, master, there are three. Symbiosis is another. It's utility, but it works for offense and defense.”

  Cedric scanned the pages. The number of spells was staggering, though many were useless or bizarre—things like “Pheromone Spray” and “Beaver Tail.” Others were situational, like “Fish Gills.” He struggled to find the right ones, partly because he was trying to read the book’s text rather than relying on the "Game UI." Lisa insisted that learning both would pay off in the long run.

  “Ah, sorry, my bad…” He smiled sheepishly when he caught her rolling her eyes.

  Cedric read the description aloud: “Thunder Shout: Amplifies the user's voice, sending a wave of pressurized noise at an enemy. Can deafen or scare enemies away. Mana cost: 60. Cooldown: 12 seconds. Range: 20 feet.”

  Next was Dragon Scales: “Allows the user to grow hard dragon scales that increase natural armor and provide 50% resistance to fire and acid. Mana cost: 60. Upkeep: 50 mana per ten minutes.”

  Cedric paused. “Why acid resistance? Fire I get, but acid?”

  “That's because of the two dragons used to bind the book,” Lisa explained. “The red and black scales come from two different species. You’re getting the traits of both.”

  “Gotcha… and now Symbiosis.” He found the passage. “Symbiosis: Allows the user to take on the abilities of a creature along with minor bonuses. The user can only select one creature at a time. Does not reset the one-hour cooldown. Mana cost: 80. Range: Touch.”

  Cedric nodded. It felt like a game, and the magic filled him with a sense of wonder, but the weight of the world reminded him this was reality. He wasn't going down without a fight. Lisa watched him, a small smile playing on her lips at his resolve.

  “Alright, time for practice. Oi, coyote! Get over here.”

  Cedric called a coyote over. He didn't know the exact stat boosts without the UI, so he’d have to feel it out. He touched the beast’s flank.

  “Symbiosis.”

  He felt a sudden drain as his mana surged. Seconds later, his body felt impossibly light, as if he’d just slammed a dozen energy drinks. His senses sharpened—the world exploded with new smells. He could smell the musky dampness of the coyote’s fur and the faint, metallic scent of kobold blood still lingering on its breath.

  Lisa gestured for him to continue. He bolted toward their tree and scaled it with startling speed, his movements fluid and predatory. He found himself panting lightly, like a dog—a strange but harmless side effect.

  The surge of stamina was intoxicating. He wondered briefly how this would affect him in "other ways," then caught Lisa winking at him. He sighed. Damn mind reader.

  Next was Thunder Shout.

  “Alright, here goes.” He took a deep breath. Lisa had to correct him—he couldn't just yell; he had to channel the mana and the sound at the same time.

  “DIE!”

  A visible ripple of distorted air slammed into a nearby rock. The water in the basin surged in response. The shout didn’t break the stone, but it left a clear, jagged scuff on the surface.

  “That was so cool,” Cedric whispered, genuinely astonished. He walked over to the rock. The damage was minor, but the force behind it was real.

  Finally, he tested Dragon Scales. It was much easier to cast than the wings he’d tried before. Thick, obsidian and crimson scales rippled across his skin, covering his chest, arms, and legs. His head and back remained exposed—a clear vulnerability.

  His fists were now like scaly brass knuckles. Drawing on the martial arts drills his father had hammered into him, he struck the rock. He felt a dull thud, but the scales absorbed the impact perfectly. However, when he tried a palm strike, he winced. Even with scales, the palm was softer, and the shock traveled straight up his arm. He cursed and rubbed his palm against his jeans, but he didn't stop. He kept going.

  Three hours of training passed until the sun reached its peak. Drenched in sweat and sporting a dull headache from pushing his mana so hard, but feeling more grounded than he had since he arrived, Cedric sat by the water’s edge. He used the scuffed rock as a seat and bit into a Mukka fruit, the cool juice soothing his parched throat.

  “You’ve made good progress, master,” Lisa said, her voice sounding almost reverent. “If you keep this up for the next few days, you will be a threat.”

  Cedric liked the sound of that. Being called a threat brought a small smile to his face.

  He looked off at the mist of the waterfall, his mind wandering. Did he have what it takes to survive? He didn't know. But he knew he wanted to be stronger. As much as he hated the voice in the back of his mind, he couldn't ignore it anymore.

  The roar of the waterfall filled his ears as Cedric finally admitted the one truth he’d been hiding from himself.

  He liked being powerful.