Lucas came back to himself slowly.

  Not with pain this time, but with sound.

  Wind, first, omnipresent, threading through the forest canopy above him in long, low sighs, bending branches just enough that leaves brushed together with a constant whisper, like the place was holding a conversation he wasn’t invited to.

  Under that came smaller noises: the creak of trunks shifting against their roots, the soft click of something crawling across bark, the distant, irregular thump of something heavier moving through undergrowth far away.

  The forest smelled alive.

  Sap and damp earth, crushed needles and old rot, a faint sweetness from unseen flowers mixed with the sharper tang of cold air sliding downhill from somewhere higher. It wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t gentle either. This wasn’t a curated starting zone meant to cradle new, uh, Earthans? through their first steps.

  It was a place that existed whether anyone spawned here.

  Lucas pushed himself upright, wincing as his muscles protested the sudden demand. His palms were smeared with dirt, bits of pine needle stuck to his sleeves, and his shoulder still carried the ghost of an injury that hadn’t quite forgiven him for existing.

  He took a breath and let it out slowly.

  Tall trees surrounded him, trunks straight and pale, bark peeling in thin strips like old paper. Their crowns swayed high overhead, far enough apart that sunlight filtered down in broken shards, painting the forest floor in shifting patches of gold and shadow. Moss clung thickly to rocks and roots, glowing green where the light hit it, slick and treacherous where it didn’t.

  The ground sloped gently, uneven and cluttered, with roots snaking across the soil like exposed veins. Every step here would matter. A twisted ankle would be just as lethal as a monster if you were careless enough.

  Lucas swallowed and muttered. “Class,” and the system responded without fanfare.

  [Attention! Trial class: Mage]

  He stared at the word for a long second, then huffed a quiet laugh that carried no humor. Mage. Just mage. No element.

  He didn’t need the rest of the interface to tell him what that meant, because his body already knew. The faint hollowness behind his ribs, the way his limbs felt heavier than they should, like he was moving through resistance that hadn’t been there before.

  Level one.

  Again.

  “She did this here,” he murmured, voice barely louder than the wind. “Or somewhere close enough.” The thought steadied him with a rustle snapped his attention left.

  Lucas turned just as something burst out of the underbrush, low and fast, fur puffed out in aggressive defiance of its own size. The creature skidded slightly on loose needles as it charged, teeth bared, eyes fixed on him with singular, unreasonable intent.

  Bearbit.

  It was smaller than he remembered… no, not smaller. He was just weaker and it lunged straight for his foot.

  “—damn it!”

  Pain flared as teeth clamped down, enough to make his leg jerk reflexively. The sensation was too real, too specific, like the system had cranked the feedback just high enough to be educational without mercy. Lucas stumbled back, heart slamming against his ribs as adrenaline flooded in. The Bearbit bounced away, fur bristling, then pivoted and lunged again with startling speed.

  He reacted on instinct, grabbing the nearest thing, a fallen branch, and swinging it down in a clumsy arc that barely clipped the creature’s head.

  The impact sent a jolt up his arms that made his fingers sting. The Bearbit squealed, more insulted than injured, and darted sideways, circling him with quick, jerky movements.

  Lucas forced himself to slow down.

  Panic wasted stamina, at least Charlie had said that once. Or maybe she’d lived it loudly enough that the lesson had stuck anyway. He backed away carefully, boots slipping slightly on loose needles, eyes tracking the creature’s movement. The forest seemed to lean in, wind tugging at his coat, leaves whispering overhead like a countdown.

  The Bearbit charged again.

  This time, Lucas sidestepped instead of retreating, letting its momentum carry it past him before bringing the branch down hard across its skull.

  The creature rolled once, then went still. Lucas stood there, chest heaving, branch trembling in his hands, waiting for it to move again.

  It didn’t.

  His legs gave out a second later.

  He slid down against a tree trunk, bark rough against his back, and let his head fall back as he dragged air into burning lungs. Sweat prickled under his collar despite the cold, and his bitten foot throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

  “That… sucked,” he muttered.

  The system chimed quietly, almost politely.

  [Attention! Trial: Bearbit defeated.]

  Lucas closed his eyes and let the sound fade, because victory didn’t feel like triumph.

  He stayed there longer than he wanted to, letting the shaking in his hands subside, listening to the forest reassert itself around him. Somewhere nearby, something small scurried through the leaves. Farther off, something heavier moved with slow steps.

  The world hadn’t paused for his win.

  When he finally stood again, he did so carefully, testing his weight, wincing as his foot reminded him it existed, and he kept the branch.

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  “Alright,” he whispered to the trees. “Lesson learned.”

  He moved on.

  The forest thickened as he went deeper, the spacing between trees tightening just enough to make the wind behave differently. Gusts funneled unpredictably through the trunks, tugging at his clothes, carrying scents from places he couldn’t see… water, decay, something faintly animal.

  Sunlight grew patchier, the canopy overhead knitting together into a green ceiling broken only by narrow seams of sky. Shadows pooled between roots and rocks, making depth hard to judge.

  Lucas stepped carefully, every sense alert now. That was when the second Bearbit hit him. It didn’t charge. It dropped.

  The creature launched itself from a low branch to his right, a blur of fur and teeth aimed straight for his shoulder. Lucas barely had time to twist, the impact knocking him sideways as claws raked across his sleeve and pain flared hot.

  He hit the ground hard, breath knocked out of him again as the Bearbit landed and spun, already preparing to lunge a second time.

  “Oh, come on,” Lucas gasped.

  He rolled just in time, feeling teeth snap inches from his face, and scrambled to his feet with a curse. This one moved differently… smarter, or at least less predictable. It darted in short bursts, using roots and rocks for cover, forcing him to turn constantly.

  Lucas swung the branch once, twice, missing both times as the creature juked away. His arms burned, and his breathing went ragged faster than he liked.

  Think.

  Brute force wouldn’t work here. Not like this. The Bearbit feinted left, then rushed right, teeth flashing. Lucas stepped back and felt his heel catch on a root.

  He went down hard.

  Pain flared up his spine as he hit, and the branch skidded out of his grip. The Bearbit lunged, closing the distance far too quickly. Time stretched. Wind roared suddenly through the trees, a sharp gust that sent leaves spiraling and dust stinging his eyes. Lucas didn’t question it. He reached for the fallen branch, fingers closing around it just as the creature leapt.

  He brought the branch up crosswise, catching the Bearbit mid-air. The impact drove the breath from his lungs, but he held on, rolling with the momentum and slamming the creature into the ground.

  The Bearbit screeched, flailing.

  Lucas didn’t let go.

  He shifted his grip, ignoring the pain screaming through his arms, and drove the branch down again. And again. Not wildly, but conserving what little strength he had left.

  The creature went limp beneath him.

  Lucas stayed crouched over it for a long moment, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face to darken the soil. His hands shook uncontrollably now, muscles pushed past comfort into stubborn refusal.

  When he finally pushed himself upright, the world swayed, and the system chimed again, understated as before.

  [Attention! Trial: Bearbit defeated.]

  Lucas laughed weakly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “I’m definitely doing this the hard way.”

  He staggered to a nearby rock and sat heavily, letting the forest breathe around him. The wind had settled again, leaves whispering softly overhead, as if satisfied with the outcome.

  Two fights.

  He leaned back, staring up through the canopy at a slice of pale sky, and let the realization sink in slowly, quietly. Then he rose and walked on, but after a moment the heat pressed in like a living thing.

  Lucas stood frozen at the edge of the clearing as the Fire Bear shifted its weight, burning fur shedding embers that hissed when they touched the ground. The creature was enormous, wrong for this place, its eyes glowing like coals sunk too deep into a furnace.

  [Firebear Lv.25]

  Type: 3-rare Normal | HP: 660/660

  He was level one, so Lucas did the logical thing: turned around.

  The world stopped him.

  He walked straight into an invisible wall, his nose almost touching the faint shimmer as text burned itself into his vision.

  [Attention! Trial: Fight necessary.]

  “…Excuse me?” he said, incredulous.

  The Fire Bear roared, the sound punching through his chest, heat rolling forward in a wave that made his skin sting. His hands felt empty, useless.

  Then a flicker appeared with a video window, hovering in front of him.

  Lucas stared at it.

  A cute girl did something that looked like a choreography, and then danced through fire and wind.

  Small. Light. Delicate, ribbons of air lifting her skirts as she spun, flames peeling away from her like they’d been personally insulted. She laughed as she moved, bright and fearless, a storm wrapped in pastel colors and impossible confidence. Wind carved paths where she stepped, slicing heat apart, turning raw force into choreography.

  Lucas’s stomach dropped.

  “I…” His voice cracked. “What is this?”

  Saevrin’s voice slid into his mind, smooth and maddeningly pleased.“With Mana in your world, I had time to pursue your local system… and I found this.” The Fire Bear took a step closer, claws digging into scorched earth. “Magical Girls,” Saevrin continued, with unmistakable delight, “are remarkably efficient vessels for emotional contradiction.”

  There was a helpful guide in the window, telling him exactly how he could get the power.

  A smaller crow fluttered down and landed neatly on Lucas’s shoulder.

  “Caw!”

  Lucas looked at it.

  Looked back at the Fire Bear.

  Then, he closed his eyes and sighed like a man signing a legally binding disaster. “…Fine.”

  He opened his eyes again, heart pounding, face already warm with dread. “Magical Girl Transform,” he muttered. Then, louder, because apparently commitment mattered, “Windprincess.”

  The world exploded into motion.

  Wind slammed into him, not violently, but enthusiastically, lifting him off the ground as if gravity had briefly lost the argument. The forest blurred into streaks of green and gold as spirals of air wrapped around his body, playful and insistent, tugging, spinning, posing him whether he liked it or not.

  His clothes unraveled in a burst of light, threads peeling away and dissolving into drifting petals of white and turquoise.

  Lucas yelped as his body shrunk.

  Not collapsing or folding, just… compressing. Shoulders narrowed. Weight vanished until the wind had to slow itself not to toss him around like a leaf. His limbs slimmed, graceful without asking permission, proportions shifting into something unmistakably cute.

  “Nope,” he muttered helplessly. “Nope, nope—”

  A flared skirt snapped into existence mid-spin, layered in soft whites and sky-blues, short enough to show movement but designed to flutter, panels lifting and falling with every breath of wind. A fitted bodice followed, trimmed in silver filigree shaped like feathers and flowing lines, snug but light, clearly more aesthetic than armor.

  Sleeveless. Of course it was sleeveless.

  Delicate arm ribbons wrapped around his wrists and forearms, tightening into translucent bracers that glowed faintly whenever the air moved. Fingerless gloves formed last, soft and impractically elegant.

  His boots assembled themselves from swirling gusts, ankle-high and light, with little wing-shaped accents at the sides that sparkled when he moved.

  Lucas felt his hair tug sharply.

  It lengthened in a rush, spilling down his back in a silvery-blonde cascade before snapping up into a high, bouncing ponytail tied with a massive ribbon that absolutely did not respect stealth or dignity. Loose strands framed his face, fluttering constantly, refusing to lie flat no matter what.

  His face softened.

  System helpfully showed him a mirror-window of his face. Cheeks smoother. Eyes larger, brighter, reflecting the sky more than the ground. The sharp edges of his usual expression rounded into something alarmingly expressive.

  Adorable.

  Devastatingly so.

  A heart-shaped gust of wind popped theatrically near his shoulder.

  Lucas stared at it in horror.

  “Oh my god,” he whispered. “I’m… precious.”

  The transformation finished with a flourish.

  Wind spiraled inward, snapping tight around his form before bursting outward in a ring that shoved heat back across the clearing. The Fire Bear skidded half a step, claws digging in as the air itself rebelled against its flames.

  Lucas floated gently back down, landing on the balls of his feet without effort, skirts and ribbons settling around him as the wind continued to circle, attentive, eager.

  He looked down at himself and then at the crow on his shoulder. “…Pearl is going to frame screenshots,” he said weakly.

  “Caw!” the crow agreed enthusiastically as Saevrin’s presence pulsed with satisfaction. “Wind does not crush,” the crow-god murmured. “It redirects.”

  The Fire Bear roared and charged.

  Lucas didn’t panic.

  He stepped forward, skirts fluttering, ribbons snapping, wind coiling around his tiny frame like a loyal, overexcited pet. “…Okay,” he said, voice lighter, clearer, and annoyingly cute. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The wind screamed.

  And the magical girl moved.