Night

Elian was in no hurry to find out who... or what... he was sharing this creepy old lighthouse with.

First, he needed to replenish his strength. His throat was also itchy and parched from all the sand that fell into his mouth earlier.

So, he grabbed a water pouch from his backpack and took several refreshing gulps from it, allowing the cool water to soothe the burning sensation at the back of his throat.

"Haaa!"

After quenching his thirst, Elian looked at the contents of his backpack and made a mental note of each item. Yes, he was already aware of what was in there, but he still felt the need to double-check everything.

In his possessions were several useful objects.

First and foremost, the long climbing rope and the grappling hook that had just saved his life a couple of minutes ago.

Then there were several food ration bars. Although these bars had less-than-appealing taste, they could provide all the essential nutrients that one needed to survive on.

After that, he also had two large water pouches with built-in water purifiers, one of which was now half empty.

In addition to everything else, there was a quick-heal med-kit in his bag, a ferro rod for starting fires, a nine-inch fixed blade knife, a few rolls of cordage useful for fishing or setting traps, a plain tarpaulin to create camp, the revolver his brother gifted him along with loads of silver bullets, and a handful of caffeine gums that could keep him awake at night if he ever felt the need to.

Of course, there were countless other small but useful items inside his utility pouches, from fishing hooks to iodine tablets.

Lastly, there was the core navigator device, though Elian had yet to test it out.

The only immediate problem Elian could see was his water source. It wasn't depleted as of now, but it was only going to last him around two to three days at best.

He had known this would happen. Water always runs out faster compared to all the other supplies. This was why he wanted to pack even more of it.

But his academy-issued bag wasn't big enough to carry any more items, and he didn't have the extra money to buy a bigger one from elsewhere.

But it was fine. He intentionally packed light, anyway.

Why? Because he was traveling to a dying alien world, not going on a picnic. He had to constantly be on the move, even stealthily in some situations. How would he do that with a mountain of luggage dragging him down?

Besides, after going on several hunting and survival drills during his time in the academy, Elian came to understand one thing – much of the gear in his kit never saw use most of the time.

He was generally way too tired in most situations to use everything he had meticulously packed beforehand. What he relied on most was his fire starter, his trustable knife, and some durable paracord.

Everything else? He could easily make do without it with a bit of luck and honed skills. After all, as the old adage goes – the more you know, the less you need.

And Elian knew a lot.

Even though he never received proper recognition for his skills, he was definitely among one of the best hunters that the Dragonova Academy has bred in the last few decades.

Unfortunately, what he lacked was strength… and the means to gain it.

He had little to none backing from his family – if he could even call them that – making it difficult for a Chaos Spawn like him to gather items that could enhance his power on his own.

Since, after all, no one in the Earthen Empire would willingly want to help a Chaos Spawn grow. Well, not most, at least.

On top of it all, the academy forbade him to learn to fight. No, not openly, but most of the professors never tried to hide their disdain whenever he entered their classes.

They would constantly bombard him with indirect contemptuous remarks every time they would come across him. Some even outright failed him at the very start of the first semester for all sorts of ridiculous reasons.

Thus, he had no choice but to change to other non-combat courses right from the beginning of his first year.

Thankfully, his survivalism instructor was not like the others.

It was not like he was a kind soul who never really discriminated against him or anything like that. He, too, hated Elian, but he also hated everyone else. So, his classes were bearable.

That said, Elian still kind of respected his survivalism instructor. Riftwalking was by far the most dangerous profession, but that man was over three hundred years old.

Elian knew better than to not respect an old man in a field of work where people die young.

"Hmm, that reminds me… I wonder how others did during the First Contact. How many must've survived by now?"

The first thirty to sixty minutes after arriving in the other world by Riftwalking was dubbed as the term First Contact.

The chances of Riftwalkers dying in this span of time were at the all time highest.

Why? Because people could be caught by surprise right after being whisked away since no one knew where they would be thrown.

Just like Elian was sent under the land. He had never heard someone being teleported to another world underground, so he was not prepared for something like that at all.

Pretty much the same way, some could get teleported straight into the maws of a harrowing beast right off the start. While others could be sent in a relatively safe but isolated place like on a small island in the middle of nowhere.

The chances of survival shoot up after one survives the First Contact since that means they have evaded any immediate threat that could take them out by surprise.

"I hope not too many are dead."

Elian wasn't concerned about his peers out of some sort of camaraderie or genuine worry. In fact, all of them could go die in a pit for all he cared.

He was just worried that if everyone died, he would have to survive, and most importantly, conquer this apocalypse alone. While he could easily manage the former, the latter was something he had no confidence in pulling off.

So, he could only pray that enough people had survived the First Contact.

Well, if no one else, Elian was sure that the Top Fives were alive. There was nothing that could kill either one of those monsters, as much as he hated some of them.

…Or so he hoped, at least.

The thing was, from the moment he landed on this world– no, even before stepping through the Rift, Elian had a growing feeling of terror in his gut.

He was feeling indescribable horror, to the point where he could feel chills on his back even now.

Something was very, very wrong with this world. He could feel it. Either that or he was finally going crazy. Elian desperately wanted it to be the second.

Right as he was busy in his thoughts, he suddenly felt a wave of calmness wash over him like a gentle breeze on a hot summer day.

He felt relieved down to his core. Even the wrongness he was feeling from this world subsided momentarily, making him feel refreshed.

Exhaustion and fatigue was washing away, rejuvenating him as an unknown force was strengthening him. He felt safe. It was as if he was back in his mother's loving embrace – or at least what he remembered it to be like.

Elian didn't need to find the source of this familiar feeling. He knew it all too well.

The sun had set. It was night.

And it was also finally time to see what was on the floor above him making the creaking noises.