The creatures of the forest held dominion over him, their greatest advantage being the mana that they possed. With the use of this magical energy, the creatures seemed to defy the laws of physics in Henry's understanding eyes, yet it was as natural to them as breathing. Bereft of such power, Henry knew he must rely on his wits to survive.

His injured arm was a shackle, impeding his progress, yet he persevered. He rested in the meadow, gathering his thoughts, scavenging his mind for any morsel of knowledge that might aid his survival. Days turned to agonizing crawls, his legs refusing to bear his weight.

As weeks passed, Henry's resilience bore fruit. He could walk, albeit with the aid of makeshift splints crafted from sticks and vines that cradled his damaged limb. With cautious steps, he ventured forth from the meadow, determined to establish a new camp.

The forest greeted him with a chorus of growls as he ventured deeper leaving the meadow. Instinctively, he crouched, a reflex carved into his very being by the ogre's brutal assault. "Those things look like sentries," Henry whispered to himself as he assessed the creatures that were growling, eyeing the goblin encampment from a safe distance. "I better avoid this place from now on." With silent resolve.

The forest air filled with a thick foul odor. Henry clutched his nose, his eyes widening in horror as he witnessed goblins dragging out emaciated humanoid carcasses from their dank cave. The bodies were sullied and malnourished, a testament to unspeakable mistreatment. Even from his distant vantage point, the stench was overwhelming.

"I think I'm gonna..." Henry's stomach revolted against the ghastly sight, and he retched violently, the sound piercing the relative quiet of his hiding spot. His presence betrayed, he cursed under his breath. "Crap, they noticed me!"

Adrenaline surged as Henry turned on his heel, sprinting back towards the meadow. A sling-shot rock whizzed past him, narrowly missing his head and embedding itself into a tree with a force that left a gaping hole.

"If that thing hits me, I'll be done for," he thought frantically, his mind racing as fast as his legs.

The meadow's open plains offered no refuge, but instinct guided him to dive into the tall grasses, camouflaging his presence. Silence enveloped him—a silence that was unsettling.

"Odd," he whispered to himself, peering back towards the forest's edge. The goblins had ceased their pursuit. As he lay there, concealed by flora, Henry pondered over the peculiar absence of creatures in this part of the forest. It was an anomaly that suggested either territorial claims by a formidable monster or some unseen force repelling the monsters.

Determined to unravel this mystery—for it could provide a crucial advantage in his survival—Henry resolved to conduct experiments. But another revelation struck him with even greater force.

"Wait. Those were people... or something close to it," he realized with a start. "Could there be a civilization beyond this forest?"

The possibility ignited a new spark within him. With renewed vigor and purpose, Henry set out once more to find these 'people' and validate his hypothesis—a quest that might just lead him to answers and perhaps even rescue.

Guided by memory and a pungent trail, Henry cautiously made his way back towards the goblin's den. Yet, before drawing too near, he veered off, following the stench to its dreadful source. What lay before him was a sight of pure horror—a mass grave filled with the remains of countless women.

With his shirt wrapped around his face to ward off the unbearable smell, Henry approached the tragic scene. Some bodies were mere skeletons, others in varying stages of decay, and a few appeared freshly discarded as they appeared to be barely clinging to life. Death itself seemed merciful compared to their fate.

As he drew closer, hoping to rescue them, his attempt useless as he drew near; their lifeless eyes mirrored the starless night sky—empty and devoid of light. Overcome with sorrow and tears streaming down his face, Henry made a heart-wrenching decision. He would grant them mercy, an act that would forever change him.

His hands, now stained with blood in the name of compassion, shook as he wept uncontrollably. Amidst his cries, a vow emerged from his grief-stricken voice—to eradicate the goblins responsible for such atrocities.

Night fell as Henry sat motionless among the dead, now desensitized to the smell of decay. He pondered the unspeakable horrors these women endured. Rising to his feet, he witnessed yellow slimes approaching, their presence explaining the eerily clean bones as they consumed what remained.

Two days passed in solemn reflection as Henry remained in the meadow. With determined hands, he crafted grass rope and a net—a trap was being prepared. His heart heavy with hatred and sorrow, Henry was no longer just a survivor; he was an avenger.

For days, Henry watched the goblins with a mix of revulsion and necessity. He knew he was outmatched in direct combat, so subtlety and cunning were his weapons of choice. His plan was to isolate one, ensnare it, and then drag it to the meadow—to understand why monsters avoided that area.

A week of meticulous observation revealed their patterns. The goblins were simple-minded, lacking any real intelligence. This made them predictable, and Henry was ready to exploit that.

"I'll target one from the patrolling squad; they're the weakest," he mused as he prepared his tools for the hunt.

As dusk approached and the goblins changed guard, Henry saw his opportunity. He tossed a pebble to draw one away from its comrades. Alerted, the goblin ventured towards the source of the disturbance—straight into Henry's trap.

With a startled yelp as Henry jumped infront of it, the creature fell into a concealed pit. Henry acted swiftly, disabling it with heavy stones before gagging it with grass and binding its limbs.

"That took a minute," he remarked with grim satisfaction, dragging his captive towards the meadow.

Upon their arrival, something extraordinary happened. The purple flora of the meadow emitted a gas upon contact with the goblin, which began to squirm as its eyes turned a matching hue. Within moments, it crystallized and disintegrated into dust absorbed by the plants.

"So that's it," Henry realized in awe. "That purple plant targets creatures with magic energy. Since I lack it, I'm not seen as prey."

A new thought struck him—a potential weapon in this alien world. "Could I harness this gas as a smoke bomb?" he pondered.

Then another realization dawned on him—the reason behind his narrow escape from a formidable beast that day. It hadn't sensed any magic within him rendering it interested in him.

"At least now I can get out of here," he whispered, hope igniting within him like a beacon in the dark.