She immediately dragged her exhausted body and hid next to a nearby tree, and waited quietly.
The sound echoed for a long while, but nothing stirred. No beast emerged. No danger came.
Nothing unexpected like a weird plot twist, like a sudden attack from a cold beast before she could collect the wood or something else, never happened.
"Ohff…" She sighed, releasing the remaining hot breath. It was quiet again.
The tension in her shoulders loosened slightly. Monica slowly walked back and approached the fallen trunk, its shadow long and dark under the grayish light filtering through the clouds.
The Red Frost Tree—now twice as tall as she was even after the fall—lay sprawled across the snow like a felled titan, possibly close to twenty-seven meters in length.
She crouched and rested her hand on the surface. It was cool to the touch, but she could feel the weight of what she had just accomplished. Her breath steamed in the air as she muttered, "Let's test this…"
Without hesitation or more of an expectation, she tried using her inventory again—this time, the target was the huge Red Frost Tree.
She narrowed her eyes at the shimmering panel that appeared beside her, projecting an interface linked directly to her thought commands.
She still didn't know the full limits of her inventory. "Is it possible to store such a large tree directly?" she muttered.
Usually, the camp's logging team consists of fifteen members, all F-rank awakeners, equipped with specialized axes and basic-strength enhancement tools, working together to cut the trunk down into manageable chunks for transport.
The process could take hours. But she didn't have that luxury.
She was alone. The temperature had dropped again.
The sky was beginning to darken in the distance—early signs of the dreaded Dark Night creeping in.
If she couldn't store the entire tree, her only option would be to return back to the camp and request emergency assistance to haul the trunk back.
But even that would take time, and Dark Night didn't wait for anyone.
She exhaled and focused her thoughts, whispering a mental command to trigger her Appraisal skill.
[Item: Red Frost Tree (Whole)]
[Age: 3 years]
[Estimated Total Weight: 295.3 metric tons]
Rings of light circled the tree, moving gently like a scanner, digitizing every contour. The Red Frost Tree began to dissolve into light particles—bit by bit, vanishing into her inventory space.
There was a slight hum in the air, and the whole tree disappeared in front of her eyes.
All that remained was a crater in the snow where it had fallen. No branches, no bark fragments, no signs of disturbance—just a few gouges in the snow and broken roots where it had once stood.
Her eyes darted to the glowing panel that hovered in front of her.
"Haha…haha…" She couldn't help it—Monica laughed, breathlessly and full of disbelief. "I really can store the whole thing…"
The corners of her mouth curled upward despite her exhaustion. Her heart pounded—not from fear or adrenaline—but from the rush of possibility. With a system like this… what couldn't she do?
But the Dark Night wasn't far off, and the temperature was already beginning to drop again—sharper now, more biting.
She closed her inventory, steadied her breathing, and looked up at the darkening sky. The pale light of the moon was rising behind the thick clouds.
The wind shifted, bringing with it the eerie silence of the forest settling in for the night.
Monica adjusted the straps on her pack and tightened her gloves. The path back to camp would be long, but she'd made it through the hardest part.
She had the fruits.
She had the firewood.
And now, most importantly, she had some extra time.
Monica stood still, taking in the vast, silent woods. Between the fruits and the firewood, her mission was complete.
But the night was far from over.
She turned toward the path home and began the long walk back through the snow, hoping nothing unexpected would happen.
On her way back, Monica slipped behind a small outcropping to shield herself briefly from the cold wind and took the chance to check on her axe again.
The familiar flicker of the system panel appeared in front of her, with a faint blue light. Her gaze flicked through the details with practiced efficiency.
However, the axe was still short for its next upgrade.
[Item: Iron Headed Axe (Lv4)]
[Function: Tool used for cutting firewood and basic defense. Has seen long-term wear. Can be upgraded. Gains 10 experience points with every tree cut down.]
[Status: Upgradeable, Bound.]
[Equipment Slot Assigned: Main-hand Tool]
[Durability: 93/100] [Material: Iron Blade / Oak Handle]
[Experience: 70/120]
[Bound Item: Monica Varnhart]
[Special Trait: Frost-Resistant Edge Lv4 – cutting efficiency is slightly unaffected by extreme cold bark.
-Easy to use Lv1: Host is not affected by the item's own weight.]
[Attribute Sync: +2 Strength / +2 Stamina / +2 Dexterity (total physique +2) while equipped.]
She let out a soft breath, watching it swirl in the freezing air. "Seventy out of one-twenty… halfway there, just five more trees," she murmured.
She adjusted her grip on the axe, feeling its comforting weight in her hand.
Even after cutting down the Red Frost Tree, it had only lost a small portion of its durability.
By the time she was about to get out of the Sky Wood Ridge and into the open stretch that led to the camp—her boots sinking into the thinning snow cover—Monica paused.
Her eyes narrowed.
There, partially buried under the fresh layer of snow, were footprints.
Several sets. Deep impressions spaced unevenly.
And not just that. Wheel marks.
Wide, heavy ones—likely from a pull-cart. Both fresh.
She crouched beside one, brushing aside the snow to get a better look.
The edges of the print were still crisp, not yet softened by wind or frost.
"These weren't here when I left." Her body tensed, and they were headed toward the camp—the exact direction she was returning to.
Monica immediately lowered her stance and slipped into the shadows of a nearby tree, keeping her profile low.
She adjusted her pack quietly, her axe strapped and ready within reach.
Her senses sharpened, eyes scanning ahead through the trees.
"Camp members? Possible… but unlikely." No one had permission to venture out today—not with Dark Night incoming.
Especially not this far into the Ridge, where only trained scouts or hunters dared to move.
"Could it be scavengers?" And not just one set—there were at least seven or eight different treads, one slightly deeper than the others.
Judging by the spacing and pattern, they were walking fast or more like running from something.
When she thought of following the footsteps, a thunderous crash split through the woods.
Snow avalanched somewhere deeper in the Ridge—loud, sharp, and sudden—followed instantly by a horrible scream that echoed through the trees.
Monica's face went pale.
Her body spasmed involuntarily, the scream somehow bypassing her ears and sinking directly into her nerves.
It wasn't just a sound—it was like an energy wave. Distorted. Echoing with layers, like something dragging its voice across two dimensions.
Not human. Not beast. Not natural.
Her hands shot up, clamping over her ears. The cold leather of her gloves barely helped. Her teeth clenched as her knees buckled slightly.
The world spun for a second—her balance thrown by the sheer frequency of the scream, as if her internal senses were being clawed at by invisible fingers.
She gritted her teeth and waited.
Five seconds. Ten seconds.
Soon, the sound stopped.
A deathly silence followed, so heavy it made her eardrums feel hollow. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Monica opened her eyes, panting lightly, ears still ringing as she pulled herself together.
Her body shivered.
Whatever had made that sound… it wasn't something she was ready to fight.
Not now. Not with her current strength.
She thought of running back to the camp, but she was not sure if she could make it, or what if the creature followed her to the camp.
"Nope," She shook her head. If she did that, it wouldn't be just her, others could also be in danger.
Without wasting another breath, she bolted toward the nearest tree and leapt upward, digging her fingers into a thick knot of ice-wrapped bark.
Her boots found purchase on a side branch. In seconds, she climbed to a perch high enough to scan the forest floor.
Her eyes darted across the snow-covered expanse below, searching.
"There." About two dozen meters out from her location, a disturbance.
The snow was torn, dragged in thick swathes. Blood—not bright red, but dark, almost black—splattered the white like spilled ink.
Something—or—someone had been dragged.
And the footprints she'd found earlier? They stopped at the edge of that gouged trail.
Her breath caught. Her pulse quickened.
From this height, the view was better, but what she saw only deepened her unease.
Few trees on the far end of the path were broken—snapped at the middle, not cut. As if something massive had moved through… or landed.
The thought chilled her. Those broken stumps were at least two meters thick in diameter.
Just cutting one tree had already exhausted her, yet here there were multiple broken trees, which fell with a single crash.
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