Sefa had no idea where he was. No compass, no map, no guidance.

But he understood something: this place was real.

His wounds still ached from the test on the 0th Floor. His side was still bandaged with torn cloth from an old curtain he had found in the ruined cottage.

He moved quietly, one hand on the hilt of the crude dagger he had taken from the goblins.

> "That… was just the beginning," he muttered.

Suddenly, the trees shook. Not from wind, but as if something had leaped between them. Sefa froze, eyes scanning the treetops.

Nothing.

He took a step forward.

A faint whisper.

Then silence again.

He wasn't alone.

Unknown Presence Detected. Warning: Observation in progress.

The system's faint echo brushed his mind, but there was no threat alarm. Just a cold statement. As if something… or someone… was watching.

And he felt it.

Sometimes to his left, sometimes behind.

But whenever he turned—nothing.

Sefa gritted his teeth. "Coward…"

He pressed forward. An open clearing revealed a small pond. As he crouched to drink, a rustle came from behind.

Too fast.

A wolf? No—a scaled beast. Lizard-like, but with the speed of a panther. It lunged.

Sefa rolled to the side, slashed upward—missed.

The beast turned, jaws wide open.

He dodged again, this time stabbing its eye.

It screamed. High-pitched. Painful. Then collapsed.

Breathing heavily, Sefa looked down at his shaking hands. His second kill in this world.

But the rustling didn't stop.

Three more of them emerged from the trees.

> "Shit."

This time, he ran.

Branches tore at his face. His side burned with every step. But he didn't stop.

He leaped over roots, ducked under thorns.

One beast kept pace. The other two gave up.

Sefa slid down a hill and turned to face it. Blood on his lip. No escape now.

He waited for the leap… and at the last moment, threw dirt in its eyes. As it staggered, he lunged and drove the dagger deep into its neck.

It twitched.

And then fell.

Silence again.

Except… for the sound of breathing.

Not his.

From the shadows.

A figure.

He spun around. "Who's there?!"

Nothing.

Just leaves falling.

But someone was there.

Watching.

After hours of walking, the forest began to thin.

In the distance—a trail. And beyond that, smoke.

Not from fire. From chimneys.

> A village?

Sefa stumbled toward it.

And then he saw it.

Wooden houses. Fields. Children's laughter.

Life.

As he approached, a few villagers looked up.

One of them—an old man—raised an eyebrow.

"You don't look like you're from around here," he said in perfect Common Tongue.

Sefa's eyes widened. He understood every word.

"I… I need shelter," he said.

The old man paused. "You're bleeding."

"I know."

And with that, he took his first step into a world far larger than he imagined.