Lukas took a shaky breath, his vision blurring with tears as the startling realization hit him: he might actually survive. His meager health points ticked upward, each second dragging like an eternity. The cool sensation of pain relief spread throughout his battered body—the soothing effect of that pink liquid. It numbed his agony, like the comforting cold of an ice pack on a scraped knee.

  The searing pain that had gripped his face, shoulder, forearm, chest, and leg was now dulled, allowing Lukas to take a ragged breath of relief. The pain still lingered, omnipresent, but now it felt distant, as though it were happening to someone else. Even with this brief respite, Lukas couldn’t move. He was too drained of energy, too bloodless. His consciousness teetered on the brink, barely holding on.

  All he could manage was to lie there, sprawled in a pool of his own blood, breathing shallowly, one tortured breath after another, clinging to the last vestiges of life. He watched as his health inched up at an agonizingly slow pace, one point at a time, while his gaze remained fixed on the night sky above. The stars twinkled through the gaps in the forest canopy, as if the trees had shifted to let their light reach him, a reminder of the beauty beyond his suffering.

  Lukas lay there, catatonic, as the forest around him descended into pitch-black darkness. The sounds of nocturnal creatures echoed in the stillness, a chilling reminder of just how vulnerable he was. Staring blankly up at the starry expanse, a small part of his mind dimly registered the chirping of nearby crickets. In his current state, Lukas couldn’t even summon the strength to fear a predator finding him. His thoughts were disjointed, consumed only by the infinite expanse of stars above him—vast, unfamiliar constellations that danced before his eyes.

  Every ounce of willpower was funneled into one singular goal: staying alive. He refused to surrender, despite an exhaustion that ran deeper than he could ever have imagined. He longed to close his eyes and slip into unconsciousness, but instinct screamed that if he did, sleep would not be what awaited him. Even if death wasn’t certain, Lukas knew he couldn’t rest. The pain, though dulled, wouldn’t allow it. He was trapped, forced to endure the night in this wretched state—awake through every agonizing second. It felt as though his limbs were being torn apart, dipped in molten metal, while his torso burned as though flayed.

  The torture was beyond anything Lukas could have ever fathomed, yet he lacked the energy even to scream.

  All he had were the stars, and the pain that tethered him to the world below. The stars, strange and unrecognizable, hung above him like silent witnesses. Lukas wasn’t an astronomer, but he had always enjoyed stargazing, finding solace in the familiar constellations he had learned over the years. From his cabin deep in the forest, he always had a perfect view of the night sky, untouched by light pollution. But now, as he stared up at this alien sky, he came to fully accept it. These were not Earth’s stars. This was the moment when the truth hit him with full force: he wasn’t on Earth, not even close. He was somewhere else, on a different planet, in another universe—far from home, with no way back.

  Even in his catatonic state, Lukas felt a deep, primal pull in his chest—a yearning to reach out and join the stars. To leave behind his mortal coil and allow his soul to be swept into the infinite, unending depths of the cosmos. It was as though the veil that separated reality from the true heavens had shifted ever so slightly. The familiar dome of the night sky, which had always seemed so vast and encompassing, now cracked open, revealing a tendril of incomprehensible truth.

  A fear far more profound than death gnawed at Lukas’s soul. It was an existential terror, one that threatened to unravel the very core of his being. It was as if everything around him was falling away, crumbling into dust, leaving only the vast infinity of the cosmos. Names, places, people—none of it mattered. All that remained was the overwhelming truth that even if he lived for billions of years, it would amount to nothing in the face of the heavens' eternal patience. Time marched forward, relentless and unstoppable.

  Lukas felt his soul being drawn toward the infinite, leaving behind the trivialities of life. The vastness before him was immeasurable, a distance his fragile mind could never hope to comprehend. He could stare into the cosmos for all eternity and still not glimpse a fraction of it. The infinite stretched on and on, forever, as time moved forward at its own pace, dragging every atom in existence with it. There was no edge, no end. Space, time, and creation were boundless—immutable forces that were all that mattered, and ever would matter.

  In the grand design of creation, Lukas was insignificant, a mere speck. He realized that the sky before him was everything, and he was nothing. The only way his existence would ever hold meaning was if he could leave his mark on the tapestry of creation. To do that, he needed to grow stronger, to gain levels, to forge a path for himself in this world. A new purpose bloomed within him.

  It was a religious experience, unlike anything Lukas had ever known. He suffered through the night, connected to the infinite. Time warped—seconds felt like hours, while hours passed in the blink of an eye. He existed in a liminal space, where time and self blurred, where his very being was reforged, imbued with newfound purpose and insight. The night stretched on, seemingly eternal—until it wasn’t.

  Eventually, the sounds of the night faded, giving way to the soft stirrings of a new day. The first streaks of orange light broke through the darkness, severing Lukas’s connection to the heavens and pulling him back to his body. The pain had receded, if only slightly.

  Lukas inhaled deeply, shaky but alive, his mind reeling from the night’s revelations. It was as if he had been reborn. Now, he had to find his place in this strange new world.

  Summoning the last dregs of his strength, he lifted his head to inspect his body. Unsurprisingly, he was absolutely covered in dried blood. His chest was a mangled mess of fresh pink scars; his left forearm and calf were no better. But more importantly, his intestines were no longer spilling from his abdomen like wet spaghetti. Instead, his stomach was crisscrossed with new, ugly scars.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Praying that the miracle extended further, Lukas gingerly wiped at his blinded left eye. The dried blood that had caked over it cracked and fell away. With a blink, he opened his eye and let in the early morning light. Relief washed over him—he could still see with both eyes.

  With a sigh, Lukas checked his status:

  Health: 84/160

  Stamina: 68/70

  Mana: 70/70

  He frowned. His total health had been capped at 110 yesterday—so where had the extra 50 points come from? Unable to puzzle it out on his own, he glanced to where the notification boxes had appeared the day before. Sure enough, a new entry awaited him.

  Title Earned: [Unkillable] – Every warrior faces death as they walk their path, but few can claw their way back from the brink. Having survived with your health reduced to 5 points or lower, you have proven yourself unkillable. +5 vitality.

  “Totally not worth it,” Lukas muttered with a groan, “but I’ll take it.”

  With a grunt that made him sound far older than actually was, Lukas forced himself to sit up, only to feel pain crackle through his body like lightning. He gasped, barely managing to stop himself from collapsing back down. Sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, he glanced around. The drakon’s corpse lay unmoved, now more decomposed, and the wolf carcasses were still where he had left them. Nothing had come near him during the night—likely due to the stench of the rotting drakon.

  Slowly, Lukas forced himself to his feet. Every muscle and joint ached, making him twitch like a glitchy robot. It wasn’t as excruciating as before, but the pain still lingered, like someone had run him over and then thrown it in reverse for good measure. He could manage to hobble around, but another fight was out of the question.

  After crouching down to pick up his blood-drenched sword, Lukas made a weak attempt at wiping off the dried blood from his body. His skin and the fresh scars were far too sensitive to allow him to scrub for long, so he didn’t bother. He simply wanted to remove enough to feel human, rather than like a walking corpse. If he truly wanted to feel clean, he would need to find a stream or a pond to wash himself properly.

  The thought of a cool, soothing bath made Lukas’s heart ache with longing, but that luxury was far off. For now, he had to focus on the immediate next step: pants.

  Lukas opened his inventory and pulled out the wolf-skin cloak he had looted. Holding it out, he realized it would fit him perfectly—likely due to some magical bullshit. The fur was soft, warm, and matched the wolves he had slain. It was a savior, the morning air unkind to his fresh wounds and lower regions.

  He inspected the cloak for a moment before a box appeared next to it:

  [Wolf-skin Cloak (low quality)] – A cloak fashioned from the skin of a wolf, looted by an adventurer anticipating his end.

  “Low quality, my foot,” Lukas muttered. “This thing would probably sell for hundreds of dollars back home. And I’m about to wear it like a towel.”

  Instead of throwing the fine cloak over his shoulders to let it flow down to his knees, Lukas wrapped it around his waist like a bath towel. He secured it tightly after wrapping it around himself one and a half times, and it fell to mid-calf. It was at that moment Lukas realized he was essentially wearing a rugged, manly wolf-skin kilt.

  After a few test movements to ensure the makeshift kilt was secure, Lukas felt confident enough to move forward. So, what was the next step in the plan? Sleep. Sure, he wanted to search the area and perhaps find whoever had killed the drakon, but not yet. Lukas had been up all night after a full day of movement and a brutal fight. His body was still healing, and whatever he had drunk last night had long worn off. All in all, Lukas was exhausted and barely on his feet.

  His priority now was to wander off, find somewhere relatively safe, and get some sleep. He could only hope that nothing would find him while he was vulnerable.

  Taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air, Lukas was pleased to note it smelled familiar, like his forest back home—despite the unmistakable stench of rotting bodies, pine, and something else that could only be described as magic. Deciding a change of direction might be a good idea, Lukas headed south. Every step made his entire body ache, as though he were one massive bruise, but he kept meandering forward in search of shelter.

  The scenery remained the same as the day before—just a stretch of enchanted pine trees, dotted with the occasional bush and magic wildflower. After about half an hour, the landscape began to change. The previously flat terrain gave way to low hills, which grew larger and more frequent as he moved on. Climbing and descending them in his current condition was nothing short of agony, but Lukas pressed on, hoping to find some water in the valleys between the hills.

  He had little hope of finding a place to bathe just yet. For now, he was more focused on finding a place to rest. He had seen a few spots that might have worked, but trapping himself between a few boulders didn’t seem like the best idea.

  By now, the sun had fully risen above the horizon, and the morning birds were singing their usual songs. Beams of orange light filtered through the canopy from the east, bathing the forest in a warm glow. It was a peaceful scene, but Lukas was in no state to appreciate it. He was solely focused on the fallen tree he had just stumbled upon—literally stumbled. After wandering the forest for well over an hour, he was barely awake. The spot he found wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

  The fallen tree’s roots had been torn up as it fell, leaving a large pit beneath its upturned underside. The hollow was a few meters deep and even wider. It would provide good protection from the wind and keep him hidden from anything that wasn’t standing directly at the edge of the pit. Lukas could only hope that the surrounding trees would block the sunlight enough to let him rest.

  Having found his refuge, Lukas placed his sword back in his inventory before gingerly lowering himself into the pit. He wasn’t concerned with finding the most comfortable position, he’d be willing to sleep upside down at this point. He simply took the wolf-skin cloak from around his waist and wrapped it around his bruised and battered body before lying down in the dirt. Letting out a weary sigh, he allowed his exhausted form to go limp. As he closed his eyes, Lukas listened to the sounds of the forest—the birds, the rustling of the trees—and drifted off to sleep, a small part of him still hoping that he wouldn’t wake up in his cabin.