After his spree of fighting Glowmaw Grizzlies, the subsequent level ups, and new ability testing, Colm decided it was time for a breather. He returned to one stream he had passed earlier, and he found a little comfy patch of dirt and made it his resting spot. He tasked Robin with clearing the stream of any lurking dangers and securing the location, had Lance patrol the surrounding area, and kept Carver stationed nearby on bodyguard duty.

Glancing through the notifications from Robin's efforts, Colm noticed the Phantom Archer ability had already ranked up twice from the activity. "Makes sense that the early levels rank up fast, especially if it's taking out higher-level enemies," he muttered.

Veilthorn Strangler (Level 39) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

Veilthorn Strangler (Level 37) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

Veilthorn Strangler (Level 35) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

...

Veilthorn Strangler (Level 38) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

Phantom Archer (Level 1) is now Phantom Archer (Level 2)

Phantom Archer (Level 2) is now Phantom Archer (Level 3)

Satisfied, Colm dismissed the notifications and settled down. He ate his fill of Celestial Blooms, drank deeply from the stream, and went to lean against a nearby tree. The soothing sound of flowing water accompanied the occasional THWACK of Robin loosing arrows in the distance, followed by the familiar chime of more notifications.

Barklurker (Level 35) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

Barklurker (Level 34) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

Barklurker (Level 37) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

...

Barklurker (Level 32) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

Phantom Archer (Level 3) is now Phantom Archer (Level 4)

Colm chuckled, shaking his head. "I love being a summoner. At this rate, Robin might hit Level 10 by the time I wake up." With that, he dismissed the notifications, closed his eyes, and let sleep take him.

Hours later, Colm awoke, feeling refreshed, and immediately faced a flood of notifications.

Barklurker (Level 37) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

Thornfang Wolf (Level 39) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

Barklurker (Level 37) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

...

Veilthorn Strangler (Level 33) Defeated. No Experience Gained.

Phantom Archer (Level 4) is now Phantom Archer (Level 5)

Phantom Archer (Level 5) is now Phantom Archer (Level 6)

He let out a quiet laugh as he reviewed the messages, impressed by Robin's effectiveness. "Robin really put in the work," he muttered, though a small pang of frustration lingered. The lack of experience from the weaker creatures was feeling like wasted effort, even if it kept him safe while he rested.

Pushing aside the notifications, Colm stretched, his body still grateful for the reprieve. His eyes settled on Carver, standing vigil at his side, the phantom's unwavering presence as steady as always. Nodding in quiet appreciation, Colm reflected on how fortunate he was to have his spectral allies.

Sure, I may not have the power to fling firebolts from my hands—at least, not yet, he thought with a smirk. But I can summon incredibly strong phantoms to protect me essentially permanently and attack my enemies. He chuckled softly, a memory surfacing. It's like one of those games I used to play back home. Didn't one of them have spirits that mimicked you? That'd be useless here. I'm so much weaker than mine.

Shaking his head at his own joke, he glanced at his phantoms again. "You all really are my lifeline," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude. For the first time since arriving in this hostile, alien world, he felt a sense of calm and security. It wasn't perfect, but it was a comfort he hadn't expected—and one worth cherishing.

Colm allowed his phantoms to continue running on autopilot—Carver by his side as a vigilant bodyguard, while Lance and Robin patrolled the surrounding area. Occasional notifications of defeated creatures flickered in his vision, but he barely spared them a glance, trusting his phantoms to handle any threats.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

He went about his morning routine, eating his fill of Celestial Blooms and drinking deeply from the nearby stream. The familiar minty taste of the blooms, while monotonous, gave him the energy he needed to focus on the day ahead. With the area thoroughly explored and no new leads, Colm decided it was time to return to the entrance of the Grove.

He couldn't shake the hope that the entrance would hold the Grove's final challenge. If it didn't, though, he was tempted to leave regardless. He had been here long enough, gained incredible rewards, and grown far stronger. But more than anything, he wanted to find people.

Spear in hand and phantoms at the ready, Colm set off, preparing himself for the long trek back. The journey had taken considerable time when he first arrived, with every step weighed down by caution and the uncertainty of this strange land. Now, things were different. He had faced and conquered most of what the Grove had thrown at him, and his phantoms were more than capable of dealing with the remaining smaller threats.

Starting at a brisk run, Colm quickly gained speed, his enhanced stats allowing him to cover incredible distances. Despite the uneven ground, cracked earth, and fallen trees, he maintained his pace, darting through the terrain with ease. The wind whipped past him, and a grin spread across his face as he felt the power of his own body—his strength, speed, and agility coming together in perfect harmony.

Through the blur of trees, he caught glimpses of Lance and Robin patrolling the larger perimeter, seamlessly keeping pace with him. A quick glance at Carver reassured him that his closest guardian was ready to dispatch any threats that dared come too close. Confidence surged through him. With his phantoms protecting him and his own skills honed sharper than ever, he felt unstoppable.

Colm's path brought him back to the first temple he had stumbled upon in the Grove—the Temple of Stone as he called it. A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he glanced up at the simple structure. This was where it had all started: his first major challenge, his first brush with death, and his first encounter with a creature wielding magic. He had learned and grown so much since then, but the memory of that trial lingered, sharp and vivid.

Taking a moment to reflect, Colm studied the building. It was still small and unassuming, nothing about it outwardly foreboding. He hesitated at the entrance, debating whether to move on, but curiosity gnawed at him. The mention of the Will of the Grove earlier had left him wondering if anything inside had changed. Grabbing a handful of Sunlit Petals to light his way, he stepped inside.

The first room remained bathed in a soft glow, the same as it had been after he finished the trial, projecting familiar shadows onto the walls. Colm's eyes went immediately to the mural—the same piece that had revealed the existence of another trial and hinted at the Grove Stalker. It was unchanged, just as he remembered it. But as he moved deeper into the room, an additional detail hit him hard: the stench.

It was foul, almost unbearable, and Colm realized why as he ventured toward the chamber where he had fought the Stone Gnawer. The decomposed remains of rats and the Stone Gnawer littered the room, their twisted, decayed forms a stark reminder of what had transpired.

Plugging his nose, he took a steadying breath and stepped forward, holding the glowing petals as a makeshift lantern. The sight gave him pause. It hit differently now, seeing the aftermath of his actions. This is what my growth cost, he thought grimly, looking around the darkened space.

He eased through the room, the sense of foreboding growing with each step. But nothing was out of place. The stone pillar stood as it had before, unmarked and unchanged. No new inscriptions or signs awaited him.

With a heavy sigh, Colm turned and left the temple. His chest felt tight, burdened by a deeper understanding of the path he was walking. His growth came at the expense of others, even if they were creatures that attacked him first. This was the world he lived in now—one where survival demanded sacrifices, and progress had a cost.

With the weight of his growth bearing down on him, Colm struggled to resume his pace. This world isn't like Earth, he thought. Here, the strong survive, and the weak are just fuel for the strong. I knew that, but it's harder to accept once it really sinks in.

He sighed, his thoughts spiraling. Sure, growing up, I fantasized about having magic—casting firebolts, slaying monsters attacking my town. But living it? That's something else entirely. How many nights did I fall asleep dreaming of suddenly gaining powers like this? And now that it's real, I can't stop wondering: If magic existed on Earth, what would it have been like?

He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze distant. What happened here to make this world like this? Was the system always around? Do people just accept it? He exhaled sharply, his rant ending as he flopped onto his back, trying to process the enormity of it all.

Eventually, Colm pushed himself back to his feet, shoved his thoughts back and pushed to keep moving. The thought of nearing the Grove's entrance was tantalizingly close and drove him forward. He had spent so long here, enduring a whirlwind of emotions he never imagined he'd face. The hardest, by far, had been the creeping madness during the second trial—the oppressive isolation, the darkness, and the relentless Wraithvine Serpent. He had never thought he'd feel such profound despair, but the hunger, thirst, and crushing solitude had pushed him to the very edge of his endurance.

In a hushed whisper, he said to himself, "I've learned a lot here. This world. Myself. What I'm capable of." His voice carried a note of determination as he pressed forward. "I just hope I keep these lessons with me because something tells me this is only the beginning of my journey."

After another two hours at a brisk pace, Colm recognized the surroundings. The trees grew greener, and more flora adorned the landscape, subtly brightening his path. He knew he was close. The day had been long, and thoughts of leaving the Grove had consumed his mind—the weight of his journey and the cost of his growth. Deciding it would be best to rest and gather his strength for the potential challenge ahead, he searched for a safe place to spend the night.

Before long, he found a stream and settled into his routine. Robin cleared out any lurking threats while Lance began patrolling the area. Notifications of defeated Veilthorn Stranglers, Barklurkers, and even a Fungal Goblin soon crowd his vision. Colm dismissed them quickly, trusting his phantoms to keep the area safe. Once Robin finished, he approached the stream, drinking deeply from the cool, crisp water. Feeling refreshed, he moved to a spot a short distance from the stream and lay down. Carver stood steadfast nearby, his spectral presence a comforting guard.

As Colm stared up at the dark canopy, thoughts of leaving the Grove swirled in his mind. For weeks, he had suppressed the isolation gnawing at him, but now, on the verge of escape, it surfaced. The idea of finding other people kept him going, yet doubt crept in. What if there were no people nearby? What if the world beyond the Grove was as desolate and filled with undead as the one he'd first encountered? The weight of these questions pressed on him, but he forced himself to focus on the immediate future.

Whether he would face the Will of the Grove or finally leave this place behind, Colm steeled himself. Tomorrow would bring answers, and he would be ready. With his resolve firm and his mind settling on the goal ahead, his eyes closed, and he slowly drifted into sleep.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.