Golden eyes, like molten metal, reflected in the dim hall. The Direwolf crouched low, muscles rippling, saliva dripping onto shattered stone. Her stomach clenched, her heart hammering like a war drum.

  [Race: Monster | Type: Direwolf | Level: 30]

  She exhaled sharply, trying to calm the chaos inside her. She looked around the hallway, then—Void Flower Steps. Phantom lotuses bloomed faintly beneath her feet. She vanished and reappeared twenty meters away.

  The wolf had anticipated it. Its golden gaze tracked her instantly. The air trembled as it lunged. She barely rolled aside, claws gouging deep trenches where she had been standing.

  “Of course. Of course, the first move works once, and now it’s useless,” she muttered. “I mean, I could’ve guessed! Why would a massive, predatory wolf just ignore my attempts at escape?”

  [Spiritual Energy: 90/200 | Stamina: 70/110]

  Her body screamed for a second, heart hammering, legs trembling. The wolf was not some novice slime—it was a nightmare made flesh.

  “Right. Level two… versus level thirty. Perfectly fair. Totally sane. Just a stroll in the park with a little puppy, really.” She swallowed bile. “I hope the afterlife has better restaurants than this.”

  She gripped her rusted sword. She knew there was no escape now. It was either the wolf or her. Nine-Lotus Sword Art. Strength Form. No time for finesse. Pure brute force.

  First form—a horizontal slash—was dodged easily.

  [Spiritual Energy: 80/200 | Stamina: 65/110]

  Second form—double the strength. Her blade grazed the wolf’s fur. Steel-like. Sparks flew, but not a single scratch.

  [Spiritual Energy: 60/200 | Stamina: 55/110]

  “Yeah, that’s helpful. It’s like trying to shave a rhinoceros with a plastic spoon,” she muttered, moving into her third and desperate last form. This was all she had. If this didn’t work, she’d only have one or two Void Flower Steps left—but the wolf would definitely catch up.

  Her third strike, desperation fused with raw, accumulated strength, found its mark—not because she was skilled, not because she was clever—but because the wolf, overconfident, lunged with jaws wide open. The rusted blade sank into the base of its skull through its open jaw.

  [Spiritual Energy: 20/200 | Stamina: 35/110]

  The wolf’s gargled howl split the air, shaking the hall. Her legs buckled, and she stumbled back onto her butt, sweat mingling with the grime of the fight.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  She sat there in disbelief for a few minutes.

  “…Wow. Okay. That happened,” she muttered, still catching her breath. “…And somehow I lived. Somehow.”

  [SYSTEM ALERT – Unexpected survival logged. Lethal encounter detected. Probability of repeat success: Negligible. Recommendation: Don’t try this again.]

  “Like I asked for a demon dog to track me like a pervert stalker!”

  She leaned against a pillar, hands trembling. Her stomach growled viciously. Hunger clawed at her.

  “Fantastic. First kill, first dungeon. And no food.” She looked at the Direwolf lying to the side. “Maybe I should butcher a massive predator for food. Nothing could possibly go wrong.” She gave herself a bitter grin. “…where is my perfect inventory and crafting tab?”

  She took a shaky breath, knelt beside the wolf, and inspected the corpse. Her hands trembled as she realized she had no idea how to process it.

  “Okay… where do I even start? Chop? Roast? Pray it doesn’t scream?”

  She scanned the floor, finding small scraps of wood, splinters, a shard of stone, pottery fragments, and long-forgotten, unrecognizable debris.

  It took her a good half-hour before she found something usable.

  [Item Identified: Stone | Type: Flint] small, hard rock able to generate sparks.

  She hurried back closer to the corpse and began collecting scraps of wood from broken furniture or anywhere she could find, stacking them into a crude campfire. She struck the flint against the stone. Tiny sparks flew, but it took many attempts before the first flicker of flame appeared. Her chest tightened with relief.

  “Congratulations. I’ve now officially survived a level 30 wolf fight and started my first dungeon campfire. I’m living the dream, really.”

  She checked her status again—still level 2.

  “Yep, definitely not EXP farming this.”

  It took another agonizing hour using her sword to cut off a decent chunk from the Direwolf, then she speared it on a crude stick over the flames. She sat cross-legged, waiting for it to cook, and mused that perhaps she’d eventually gain a gathering skill.

  Soon, she had her first meal in this new world. The taste was bitter, iron-rich, unfamiliar. Survival didn’t taste like steak or stew—but it stopped her hunger.

  Once sufficiently fed, she returned to her meditation spot. It was still the best spot in the surrounding area, and she would use it as far as it allowed.

  She sank into meditation in the center of the hall. Her green robe hung gracefully, sleeves pooling around her as she let her Spirit Roots draw in energy, slowly losing herself in the comfort of the energy pooling in her Dantian.

  Hours—or maybe minutes—passed. Time felt meaningless. Her eyes closed. Breaths deepened. Her mind emptied of everything except the rhythm of energy flowing into her body.

  And then… the hall shifted unnoticed around her. Mist formed, a vortex of Spiritual Energy and mana. A black orb surfaced from the central dais, unseen until now, sensing the massive fluctuation from the Direwolf’s death and the tugging of Spiritual Energy nearby. Mist coalesced around both her and the orb, swirling faster. Her meditative figure remained serene, as if the world revolved around her. Slowly, the mist thickened into a floating liquid bubble, catching dim light in a strange, unnatural way.

  Her eyelids remained closed, untroubled by the anomaly. She had survived the wolf, eaten, and was meditating. Nothing else mattered. The comfort of meditation sent her into a dream-like sleep as more Energy filled her core.

  Slowly, the liquid crystallized into a blue, ice-like sphere, locking her and the orb in a suspended moment. Air vibrated with clashing mana and Spiritual Energy. Yet she remained oblivious, absorbed in her meditation.

  [System: Warning – Unknown energy source interacting with Spiritual Energy]

  The only thing left in her mind at the time was:

  “Step by step… one problem at a time.”

  Before the area fully solidified, images of phantom lotuses shimmered faintly around her hands. Outside the hall, the hum of both energies rushing in could be felt.

  As the black orb pulsed once, twice, absorbing energy, one last feeling lingered in that calm: a tiny flicker of triumph. Broken, mad, sarcastic—but it was hers.