This Is Not the Life That I Imagined

The night air was cool, but it didn't soothe John's stressed nerve. On the contrary, his every muscle and sinew was taut. His head was turning left and right continuously. And his eyes darted around. In this very alert state, John was anticipating an attack that could come at any moment.

His breath was not steady, but he tried to calm his racing heart. It was John's first fight against a flying monster, and it was not looking good. Especially with the owl's silent flight and its creepy blood-red eyes that spoke volumes about how it won't leave John alone.

His grip on the sword tightened, hands slick with sweat. His head snapped left. Then right. A rustling in the distance. A shadow above the treetops, then it vanished again.

'Is it circling me? Watching?' His thoughts were in disarray: 'What can you do, John?! Think! Think fast!'

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught the corner of his eye. His already tense body was ready to turn around, but he forced himself to hold still. 'Let it come to you. Let it think you're an easy target.' His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

He knew making himself a bait was risky, but that was all he could think of at the moment. He recognized his limitation; he didn't have any advantage against the silent owl. His bow might be useful only if he could see the animal clearly and take it down when it was unguarded. That is impossible now, however.

He was the one who got off guard; the tree was now his worst enemy, and the owl didn't fly in the open sky but between the trees.

 The shadow moved again—Silent. Lethal.

And then—it was on him.

John, with all his strength, spun on his heels, unleashing his sword in a wild, desperate arc. "DIEEEE!"

Steel met flesh with a chilling hiss as the blade slashed through the owl's wing. It fluttered on the ground, screeching—an eerie, bone-chilling sound that echoed through the trees.

But the owl wasn't done. It lashed out, talons slashing toward John's chest. He barely dodged, feeling the wind of its claws brush past him. 'That's too close'

The owl staggered, trying to take flight, but John didn't give it a chance. He lunged forward, slashing again, his sword connecting with bone and muscle, damaging its wing again. Another ghostly screech filled the air, its talon swiping weakly in defense.

Its flapping didn't cease, but its ruined wing kept it grounded. It attempted to attack with its freakish beak, but John dodged again. It stood no chance against John on the solid ground. John kept attacking and dodging, hacking and chopping, carving the owl's body with wounds.

Minutes later, the forest fell silent once more. John stood over the fallen enemy, its body finally still. He was panting, but he forced himself to take deep inhales and exhales to steady his breathing. His arm felt heavy from effort, but his mental condition was in a worst, strained state. He knew he couldn't let his guard down, as he still had a mission to complete.

The feeling of being always on edge, and at any point in time a threat might jump on him from any direction, was not pleasant. He moved away from the smell of blood as he leaned his back against a tree, resting for a couple of minutes.

'Oh my God, the mission is far from over.' John rubbed his temples. Then he thought back to dead bodies and shocked his head. 'But I have to continue. I need to get it over with.'

After resting, John scanned the owl's body and sent the date to Henry. Then he continued his journey following the Energy-Sensor.

His alertness decreased slightly from the tense state against the owl, but it was still present. He kept his vigilance as he moved.

The scent of plants and wood filled his nose, moving over fallen branches, and some starched from the ground roots. If not for all the deadly beasts he had to face on his way, John would have felt like he was on a hiking trip.

From the corner of his eyes, the energy numbers were continuously ascending with each step he took. Indicating his closeness to the dungeon. John stopped his movement all of a sudden. He heard a nearby growl. His eyes narrowed, and he trod silently to the source of the sound.

Getting closer, the scent of plants changed to a mixed smell of blood and rot. John frowned and rose his guard even more. He moved behind a tree and peeked over.

He saw a bear. Or what should have been once a bear. It lay sprawled on the forest floor, its massive body rising and falling with each deep, steady breath. Its fur was a thick, shaggy coat filled with blood. The difference between it and a normal bear in its current state couldn't be distinguished easily just from the outer appearance.

What gave it away was how all around it were different kinds of animals' bones and the red ground from dried blood. Beside it was a carcass of half-eaten bear cubs. Its fur was darker than normal, and its fang jetted from its mouth. Its claws gave a light gleam. Suddenly its nose twitched, and it opened its eyes wide and looked in John's direction, growling.

John looked at the bear's eyes, which were darker than the night itself. And it gave him a very dangerous feeling. Taking the bow from his back, John held it firmly as he nocked an arrow. Suddenly, the bear charged at John with its bone-chilling roar.

The visual of a bear charging at you could only be described as horrifying, and it could make anyone's legs go numb from fear. But thanks to John's training and continuous fighting with bizarre beasts, he didn't falter, and his hands were steady as he shot the arrow.

But the expected arrow piercing the bear didn't happen. A clinging sound was heard instead. The bear charge didn't slow down at all. John dodged to the side at the last moment while his second arrow hit the bear. It still didn't do any damage, as the bear at some point created a bone-like substance all around its body.

"What the—! Armored Bear! Are you kidding me?!"

John's pupil constricted, eyes wide open, as he realized why the arrow had done nothing to the bear.