Wisped Away: A LitRPG Adventure

Chapter three

I groaned as I pulled myself out of the makeshift shelter. My body ached from the hard ground, and despite the brief respite, I felt far from rested. The sun was already peeking through the trees, casting a golden glow over the forest, making the world look deceptively peaceful.

"Another day in Grimoria," I muttered, rubbing the stiffness out of my neck. "Awesome."

My stomach growled—a persistent reminder that food wasn’t going to magically appear. I scanned the surrounding area, already feeling the tension rise in my chest. What was out here, watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake?

"I’m not dying today. Nope, not today," I whispered, trying to convince myself. "Food, shelter, water. Just survive."

I moved cautiously, gripping my naginata like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to the idea of survival. Every step felt like a risk. I kept my eyes on the ground, half-expecting something to jump out at me from the bushes. The quiet was unnerving. No cars, no background hum of city life. Here, it was just the wind, the trees, and whatever was lurking behind them.

The first few hours were slow-going, and I spent most of them trying not to step on anything that would make noise. My goal? Gain stealth by sneaking through the forest like some kind of ninja. The result? A lot of stumbling, branches snapping underfoot, and muttered curses.

"Come on, Claire. You’ve seen this in movies. Just... step lightly."

I moved from tree to tree, keeping low, trying to mimic the graceful movements I’d seen in every fantasy flick ever. Unfortunately, real-life sneaking was harder than it looked. I slipped on a patch of moss, nearly face-planting into the dirt.

"Okay, maybe not a ninja," I muttered, brushing myself off. “But at least try not to sound like a herd of elephants.”

I kept trying, repeating the same awkward movements as if practice alone would make me invisible. Every crack of a twig was like a punch to the gut, reminding me that sneaking around in real life wasn’t as easy as crouching in a video game.

I felt the creeping sensation of eyes on me, as though something was watching my every move. It drove me to keep sneaking, even though it was obvious that, for now, I was still making too much noise.

By now, I’d accepted that I was no expert at sneaking, but hunger was still gnawing at me. Foraging for food was next on my to-do list. I’d spent the better part of the day searching for berries and edible plants but found only a few clusters that looked questionable. I held a mushroom up, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Edible or deadly? Guess there’s only one way to find out..." I muttered before quickly putting it back. "Nope. Not risking that."

I crouched down to inspect some animal tracks. At least, I thought they were tracks. Maybe they were just random dents in the dirt. I squinted at the ground, trying to make sense of the mess of shapes.

"Alright, follow the tracks," I whispered to myself. "Or... follow the dents in the dirt. Are these even tracks?"

I spent an embarrassing amount of time wandering around, thinking I was onto something. In reality, I was just circling the same patch of woods.

"Great. Just great," I groaned, dropping to the ground in frustration.

At least I wasn’t starving. Yet. The few berries I found might have held me over, but I was starting to think I wasn’t cut out for this whole survival thing.

By the time the sun began to dip low on the horizon, I had a small shelter, some water, and a few questionable berries. It wasn’t much, but I hadn’t died yet.

"Maybe I’m getting the hang of this," I whispered, staring at the fire I’d managed to start. "Not bad for a rookie."

I spent the evening replaying my every move. There was still so much I had to learn. Tracking? A disaster. Sneaking? A total failure. But somehow, I had managed to stay alive, and that was something. Maybe, just maybe, I could figure this out.

The next morning, I felt... ready. The forest was alive again, no longer quiet. The sounds of distant animals echoed through the trees, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Something was out there.

I was gathering more berries when I heard it—a low growl. My heart jumped into my throat, and I crouched low, gripping my naginata. Whatever was out there, it was close.

For a brief moment, I thought about running. But then I remembered the sneaking practice. If I couldn’t fight, maybe I could sneak my way out.

I moved carefully, stepping lightly as I edged behind a nearby tree. The growling grew louder, closer. My pulse raced, and I barely dared to breathe.

The creature was right behind me. I could hear it, feel its presence. It sniffed the air, searching for me. I stepped backward, my foot brushing against a fallen branch. The soft *snap* echoed through the trees, and I froze.

The creature stopped, too. Silence. My heart pounded in my ears as I stood there, waiting.

Then, mercifully, the creature turned and lumbered away, deeper into the forest.

**Skill Gained: Stealth**

*Description*: You’ve learned how to move quietly—well, mostly quietly. Keep practicing, and maybe one day you’ll actually be as silent as a shadow.

The notification blinked into view, and I grinned despite the terror still pulsing through my veins. "Finally."

After gaining the **Stealth** skill, Claire’s confidence swelled. She moved through the forest with a swagger that hadn’t been there before, her earlier nerves replaced by a sense of triumph.

"I am a shadow," she whispered to herself, sneaking from tree to tree with exaggerated grace. Every quiet step was a victory.

The wind picked up, and for a moment, she could almost imagine herself in a movie, sneaking through a fantasy world like an experienced rogue. She even smiled to herself. The danger didn’t feel as close now. She felt like she was winning.

But overconfidence had its cost. She lit a small fire later that afternoon, thinking nothing of the smoke curling into the sky. It was just a tiny flame, after all. She deserved a bit of warmth and a break after all this progress. She didn’t notice the quiet forest or the signs that something was watching.

As she rested by the fire, something nagged at the back of Claire’s mind. The forest had grown too still. She glanced around but dismissed the unease as paranoia. Yet the longer she sat, the more she felt it—a creeping tension in the air.

She got to her feet, pacing the small area around her fire. It was then that she saw it—the deep gash in a nearby tree, fresh and oozing sap. Her heart sank. She looked closer, realizing there were tracks on the ground, large ones, and they weren’t hers. They led deeper into the forest, and something about the way they dragged through the earth made her stomach twist.

As the wind shifted, a faint metallic scent filled the air. It was almost unnoticeable, but it was there—blood.

Her earlier confidence began to slip as the eerie silence pressed in around her. Her hand tightened on her naginata, the earlier smugness draining away. She stomped out the fire with shaking hands, knowing that she had made a mistake—she had drawn attention to herself. And something had noticed.

The forest was quiet—too quiet. Claire’s breath came in shallow gasps as she crouched behind a thick, gnarled tree, trying to still her trembling hands. She hadn’t meant to stay out so late. The foraging had gone well, and for once, she’d felt a little bit of hope—maybe even confidence—creeping in. But now? Now she felt like prey.

A low growl reverberated through the trees, so soft she almost didn’t catch it. It sent a chill down her spine. The air was thick with a sense of wrongness, like the entire forest had gone silent in fear of something. Whatever it was, it was close.

Claire peeked around the tree, her heart pounding. Her eyes scanned the dense undergrowth, searching for any sign of movement. Nothing. Just shadows upon shadows. She let out a slow breath, trying to calm the panic rising in her chest.

*Snap.*

A twig broke somewhere to her left, and she froze. *No. No, no, no.* Her mind screamed at her to run, but her legs felt like lead. *Move!*

The underbrush rustled again, and this time, she saw it—a massive figure lurking in the shadows, moving with an eerie silence. It was crouched low, its dark skin and fur blending into the night. But its eyes—they glowed faintly, cruel and intelligent, locked onto her like a predator savoring the moment before the kill.

Her body finally responded. She bolted, heart pounding in her ears as she stumbled through the trees, not caring where she was headed as long as it was away from that thing. The forest became a blur of movement—branches scratching at her face, roots threatening to trip her, and sharp rocks tearing into her skin.

It was toying with her. Claire knew it. She could feel its presence, always just out of sight, circling, waiting. And then, without warning, it struck.

A blur of movement from her right. She barely had time to react before something slammed into her side, knocking the wind out of her. She hit the ground hard, gasping for breath as pain exploded in her ribs. Her weapon—a makeshift spear she’d crafted earlier—went flying from her hands, landing somewhere in the underbrush.

Before she could recover, she felt it—sharp claws dragging across her leg, not deep enough to tear muscle but enough to send fire shooting up her body. Claire let out a choked cry, scrambling backward, trying to kick it away. Normally, she might’ve noticed a system notification—a reminder of the damage—but right now, survival was the only thing on her mind. There was no room for distractions, no time to focus on anything but escape.

The creature didn’t follow immediately. It stood there, watching her with those cruel, calculating eyes. It didn’t need to rush. It was enjoying this.

Claire’s breath hitched as she forced herself to stand, leaning heavily against a tree to steady herself. Her legs felt weak, the pain in her side making every breath a struggle. She looked around wildly, searching for anything—anything—that could help her.

*I’m not gonna make it. I’m going to die here,* she thought, panic clawing at her throat. *I can’t—I can’t outrun this thing.* Despair washed over her, her mind spiraling into frantic thoughts. For the first time, the reality of her situation hit her with full force. She was alone, hunted, and outmatched. No one was coming to save her.

But the creature wasn’t finished yet. It took a slow, deliberate step toward her, claws flexing, its low growl vibrating through the air. Claire’s heart pounded in her chest as she backed up, her mind racing for a plan.

Suddenly, Claire bolted again, adrenaline giving her one last burst of energy. She stumbled through the trees, her vision blurring with pain and exhaustion. Her legs screamed in protest, the shallow cuts on her skin stinging with every movement.

She didn’t dare look back. She couldn’t. Every instinct told her that if she stopped, it would be over. But she could hear it now, behind her—its breathing, heavy and deliberate, like it was savoring her fear.

A fallen branch caught her foot, and Claire tumbled to the ground, her head slamming into a rock. Stars exploded in her vision, and for a moment, everything went black. When she blinked her eyes open, the world was spinning, her ears ringing from the impact.

The creature was close. Too close. Claire’s fingers scraped desperately at the ground as she tried to pull herself up. The world tilted around her, and blood dripped down the side of her face from a shallow cut on her forehead.

The creature was almost on her, its glowing eyes locked onto hers. Claire’s breath came in short, panicked gasps as she frantically searched for something—anything. Her hand brushed against a loose rock, and without thinking, she grabbed it, fingers curling around its rough edges.

As the creature lunged, Claire hurled the rock at its face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The rock struck it square in the eye, and the creature let out a pained roar, staggering back. Claire took the opportunity, scrambling to her feet and limping away as fast as her battered body would allow.

She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. Her legs moved on autopilot, driven by pure survival instinct. The pain was unbearable—her ribs ached, her leg throbbed, and her head swam from the impact. But she kept moving, somehow, through sheer willpower.

After what felt like an eternity, Claire stumbled into a small clearing. She collapsed against a tree, gasping for air, her entire body shaking from the effort. Her vision blurred, the world around her spinning as she fought to stay conscious.

Suddenly, a faint glow appeared in the corner of her vision—two bars, one red and one green. At first, Claire blinked, wondering if the fall had knocked something loose in her head. But no, the bars remained, hovering just on the edge of her sight.

Health: 15/70

Your physical condition is critical. One more hit, and you might not be so lucky.

Stamina: 7/55

Running on fumes. You’re moments away from total collapse.

Claire groaned, her head pounding. “Great. Just what I needed. A visual reminder that I’m one bad decision away from death.”

Another notification blinked into view, flashing persistently in the corner of her vision. Condition worsening, it read. The glowing text pulsed, blurring as her vision swam with exhaustion. She swiped at it reflexively, irritation prickling at the back of her mind.

“Enough already!” Claire snapped. She waved her hand again, trying to dismiss the persistent notifications, her breath ragged.

To her surprise, the notifications flickered once and then vanished completely. She blinked, confused, but the silence that followed was welcome. The absence of constant reminders was a strange relief.

“Finally,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t need floating words to tell me how bad things are. I can figure that much out myself.”

Her body screamed in pain, every muscle throbbing with exhaustion. The creature’s roar echoed faintly in the distance, but it didn’t follow. Not this time.

She barely made it. She was alive—but just barely.

Breathing heavily, Claire clenched her fists. The weight of the encounter still hung over her like a dark cloud, but she forced herself to sit up, determination flickering through her exhaustion.

“I’m not going down like that again. Never again.”

With her heart still racing and the notifications gone, she let her body sink back into the dirt, fighting to keep her eyes open, even as her body begged for rest.