Max pushed through the thick jungle underbrush, brow furrowed with lingering thoughts of the encounter at the hut. The way the man—Veyrin, he remembered—had spoken to him still didn’t sit right. The guy wasn’t real, but he had presence. More than just a projection or recording. Sentient. Aware.

  “I can’t answer that,” Max muttered, mimicking Veyrin’s voice. “What kind of answer is that?”

  He didn’t like not having answers. Especially when they were about him.

  The jungle canopy thinned slightly, allowing streams of golden light to break through, casting dancing shadows on the mossy floor. Birds screeched in the distance. The air was thick, humid, and heavy with the scent of damp earth. Max stepped over a fallen log and paused.

  Voices. Guttural. Familiar.

  Goblins.

  Max crouched low behind a rock, eyes narrowing as he spotted a patrol moving single file through a narrow path just ahead—six of them, all Level 7 by the flickering system tags hovering above their heads. Same as him now.

  "Let’s see how sharp my edge really is," he whispered, drawing Spitefang.

  The first two goblins didn’t even realize they were under attack.

  A burst of flame from Max’s staff turned the lead scout into a shrieking torch. The second fell before it could scream, Spitefang flashing in a downward arc to sever its spine. The rest scattered, eyes wild, hissing in alarm as they drew crude spears and curved daggers.

  But Max had momentum. He ducked low, pivoting around a root just as another goblin lunged at him. His body moved faster than his thoughts—as if instinct pulled him just out of reach.

  It wasn’t teleportation, but it felt like he could’ve been. For a split second, there was a strange pressure in his chest, a twist of space just outside his reach. It was gone before he could grasp it.

  “What was that?” he wondered, even as he drove Spitefang upward into the goblin’s ribs.

  The remaining three regrouped faster than expected. Smarter, too. They split up, trying to flank him. One even threw a rock to distract him while another circled around to attack from behind.

  Max caught the trick just in time.

  He spun, catching the ambusher’s blade on his Mana Shield, then retaliated with a blast of fire that scorched the tree behind them. Another darted forward, but Max sidestepped and brought his sword down in a vicious arc, severing its head cleanly.

  A final Mana Bolt dropped the last goblin mid-charge, flinging it into the underbrush.

  Breathing heavily, Max wiped blood and sweat from his brow.

  "Too close," he said. “They’re getting smarter.”

  As he stepped over the corpses to inspect them, something caught his eye—a split in the rock behind where the goblins had emerged from. Faint air drifted from it. Cool, dry. A cave.

  With night coming on, it was a perfect place to rest.

  He lit a conjured flame in his hand and stepped cautiously into the passage. It wound tightly, the air growing colder with each step. Rough stone walls pressed in around him until the tunnel opened into a massive chamber—circular, dome-like, and impossibly quiet.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Something was wrong.

  Max stepped forward, scanning the darkness.

  That’s when the troll attacked.

  The creature lunged from the far wall with terrifying speed for its size, a towering brute of sinew and muscle, with gray-green skin and jagged teeth that looked more like rusted blades than bone. Its roar echoed through the cavern like a thunderclap.

  Max barely raised his Mana Shield in time—the first swipe slammed him back into the wall with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs.

  [Troll – Level 9]

  "Figures," Max coughed, scrambling to his feet. "Always the big ones in the dark places."

  He darted forward, Spitefang flashing. He aimed for the troll’s knees, slicing through tendon with a charged Power Strike that sent a burst of Genesis energy exploding on impact.

  The troll bellowed, stumbling.

  Max followed up with a Fireball to the chest, the explosion throwing the beast back—but not down.

  Then he saw it. The leg was already healing.

  “Of course it regenerates…”

  The troll surged forward again, swinging a chunk of jagged stone like a club. Max ducked and rolled, launching a Mana Bolt mid-spin. It hit—but the wound started sealing even before the creature roared again.

  No choice.

  Max charged another Power Strike, focusing everything into Spitefang. He dodged a wide sweep and aimed for the troll’s arm this time—specifically the one holding its makeshift weapon.

  Spitefang cleaved through the wrist—and this time, the delayed blast of energy turned the severed limb into ash midair.

  That bought him time.

  Max didn’t stop. He wove around the beast, launching more bolts and precise cuts to its legs and back, using his shield to deflect desperate swipes. The troll couldn’t keep up.

  Finally, one last Power Strike to the creature’s chest detonated like a bomb. The troll staggered, stumbled, and collapsed in a heap of ash and gore.

  [Level Up!]

  You have reached Level 7

  Stat Points allocated

  +3 Free Points available

  New Skill Unlocked:

  Blink – Instantly teleport to a location of your choosing within 10 feet. Range increases with level. Minor mana cost per use.

  Without hesitation, Max dumped all three of his free stat points into Endurance.

  +3 Endurance applied. New total: [18]

  “I’m going to need that extra toughness if these beasts keep getting stronger,” he muttered, flexing his fingers and feeling a subtle surge of raw force ripple through his limbs.

  Eager to test out his newly unlocked skill, Max sprang to his feet and attempted a sideways dodge—nothing happened. He frowned, focusing his mind and pushing a small stream of Genesis Energy into the skill like he would for Fireball or Mana Shield. Again, he shifted his weight and tried to activate it.

  Still nothing.

  Refusing to give up, Max experimented a few more times—altering his focus, adjusting the flow of energy, even whispering the skill’s name under his breath. Then, something clicked. He fixated on a flat stone about ten feet away and mentally braced himself.

  This time, when he moved, the world blinked.

  One moment he was on the ground—the next, standing atop the stone, a slight pulse of disorientation fading as quickly as it came.

  Max blinked, wide-eyed. “Okay… yeah. This could come in handy.”

  With a satisfied nod, he scanned the darkened chamber one last time. The adrenaline from the troll fight had long faded, but now curiosity had taken its place. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this cave had more to offer.

  He pressed deeper, navigating by the light of a faint glowing crystal he summoned into his hand. After rounding a bend and stepping into a second chamber, Max stopped short.

  Three doors stood side by side, embedded directly into the stone wall like they had always been there—ancient, untouched, yet remarkably well-kept. Dustless. Untarnished. Like someone had polished them just this morning.

  The first door bore the image of a sword and shield, crossed and gilded in fine silver trim, intricate carvings spiraling along the frame like vines frozen in time.

  The second showed a staff, topped with a bright blue orb that pulsed faintly with magical light. Even in the pitch black of the cave, the gem glowed like starlight on still water.

  The third was marked with a simple cross—humble, quiet, and yet… it radiated an air of calm authority.

  Max stepped closer, recognizing the symbols instantly.

  “The core classes,” he whispered. “Warrior. Mage. Healer. Just like the Initiation Room.”

  Each door seemed to call to him in a different way. He felt the weight of potential behind each one—untapped paths, hidden knowledge, buried power.

  He placed a hand on the first door, fingers brushing the cold metal of the sword and shield emblem.

  “Well,” he said to no one in particular, “no time like the present to see what’s behind door number one.”