12. FOREST STRUCTURE

Now that I know the eggs will hatch in two or three days, it's time to recover my mana. Mana can regenerate on its own over time, but meditation speeds up the process significantly, allowing me to recover much faster.

The Forge-Born is still unconscious. He has shown no signs of waking yet, but perhaps by tomorrow morning, he will stir. I've decided not to rest tonight, though. There is always a chance he might attack me when he wakes up—Lumeria's evaluation of him could be wrong, after all. I can't take any chances, so I need to remain vigilant.

At the same time, I need to focus on my future plans. My main objective is to locate the missing pieces of the book, and the best way to do that is by gathering information. However, another thought keeps creeping into my mind: perhaps I should establish my own country. If I succeed, it would provide me with a stable base to grow my strength and influence. It's something I will need to consider seriously, especially since reaching the R1 stage will make me a semi-monster.

If I encounter humans in the future, I don't know how they will react to me. My current appearance already sets me apart, but at the R1 stage, I'll gain horns and scales. It will make me look even more monstrous in their eyes. I doubt they would ever truly see me as one of their own. But that's a problem for my future self to deal with. Right now, there are more immediate issues at hand.

Meditation has become an essential part of my routine, helping me immensely in my daily life. With its benefits, I've been able to reduce the amount of sleep I need. Instead of six hours, I now only require three hours of rest to feel fully functional. Still, exhaustion has a way of creeping up on me, no matter how hard I try to fight it.

The forest was calm and quiet as I meditated. My surroundings remained undisturbed, but despite my determination to stay awake, tiredness eventually overwhelmed me. Before I realized it, I had drifted off into sleep.

When I finally opened my eyes, I was greeted by an unexpected sight. Sitting directly in front of me was the Forge-Born I had encountered yesterday. He hadn't left, and I couldn't tell if it was because of his injuries or for some other reason. His presence immediately put me on edge, but I decided to engage him in conversation to gauge his intentions.

"Hey," I said, breaking the silence. "Are you alright?"

He hesitated for a moment, his expression unreadable, before finally replying. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for saving me."

His gratitude seemed genuine, but I couldn't lower my guard just yet. I nodded and pressed on with another question. "Who are you, and what were you doing here?"

He looked uncomfortable, clearly reluctant to trust me. Even so, after a brief pause, he answered, "I'm a Forge-Born. My name is Nix. I... I don't have the talent to build things. Everyone mocks me for it, so I decided to run away."

His words hung in the air, and I studied him carefully. He appeared earnest, though the pain of his experiences was evident in his tone.

But why didn't he have the talent to build? According to Lumeria, the Forge-Born are supposed to have an innate talent for architecture. It's something they are known for, a skill ingrained in their very being. Could Nix be an anomaly? Or is he simply a failure by the standards of his tribe? Either way, it's not my place to judge him. Whether he is special or useless, it doesn't concern me.

I pushed the thought aside and turned my attention to something more useful. It was better to focus on gathering information about my surroundings. I looked at him and asked, "Hey, do you know anything about this forest?"

Nix looked away for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he answered, "No, I don't know much about it. I just know that we live in the southern region of the forest."

"Southern region?" I asked, curiosity piqued. "How many regions are there in the forest?"

"Five," Nix replied without hesitation. His tone suggested he was certain of this fact.

I paused, absorbing the information. The forest was much larger than I had initially thought. If there were five regions, it might take weeks or even months to explore them all. Still, this could be an opportunity. Traveling to the other regions might allow me to absorb the last two bloodlines I needed.

However, I doubted Nix had any more information that could be useful to me. And even if he did, it wasn't likely he would share it freely. If I were in his position, I wouldn't risk leading someone stronger than myself to my tribe without having a solid backup plan. It was clear he didn't entirely trust me, and I couldn't blame him.

It was time to leave. "Alright, Nix," I said, turning to face him. "Can you walk on your own now?"

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I can walk on my own."

"Good," I said. "Then you'll be able to return to your tribe without any trouble. I'm going to leave now. Take care."

I turned and started walking away without waiting for a reply. The conversation was over, and I had no reason to linger.

But before I had taken more than a few steps, Nix called out to me. "Wait!"

I stopped and turned back, looking at him with a questioning expression. "What is it, Nix? Do you need something?"

"No," he said quickly, his words coming out in a rush, as though he was afraid I would misunderstand his intentions. "I just... I want you to take this token. If you ever come across a Forge-Born, show it to them. They'll take you to our tribe."

Surprised, I walked back to him and accepted the token he offered. It was made of a strange metal I had never seen before. Its surface was rough to the touch, with carvings etched into it. The carvings were intricate, yet they lacked polish, giving the token a crude and unfinished appearance.

"Alright," I said, examining the token for a moment before slipping it into my pouch. "Thanks. I'll remember that."

Nix watched me carefully, still wary of my presence. It seemed he hadn't completely let his guard down, but he had decided to trust me enough to give me this. Perhaps he thought offering the token was safer than risking offending me.

I nodded to him one last time and turned away, walking deeper into the dense forest. As the trees closed in around me, I tucked the token away in my thoughts along with the knowledge of the five regions. There was much to explore, and this was only the beginning.

**POV: Nix**

I don't know what I did wrong. Unlike everyone else in my tribe, I don't have a talent for architecture. The others seem to excel at it effortlessly, constructing sturdy, well-crafted shelters wherever we go. I, on the other hand, struggle with even the simplest designs. No matter how hard I try, my work always falls short of the tribe's expectations.

In our tribe, being able to build is a necessity, not a luxury. We are weak monsters, unable to fend off the stronger creatures that roam the forest. Because of this, we are constantly on the move, never able to stay in one place for too long. Every time we migrate, we have to construct new shelters—temporary structures to protect us from the elements and predators. These shelters are our lifeline, yet they are only ever meant to last a week. Once we pack up and leave, they are abandoned, left to decay in the forest behind us.

It's a harsh way to live, but we've adapted to it over time. At least, we had adapted until two years ago when everything changed. That's when the undead began to appear. Before then, I had never even seen an undead creature in the forest. Our lives, though challenging, had a rhythm and a semblance of stability. But the arrival of the undead shattered that.

They came without warning, attacking relentlessly and forcing us to flee. Their numbers seemed endless, and their presence brought with it an unnatural chill that made the forest feel alien and foreboding. No matter how far we traveled, it seemed like they were always one step behind us, driving us deeper and deeper into unfamiliar territory.

I don't know where they came from or why they're here. Perhaps it's a natural phenomenon, some shift in the balance of the forest. Or maybe it's the result of someone's actions, a deliberate attempt to disrupt the fragile ecosystem of our home. Either way, their presence has turned our lives into a waking nightmare.

Now, every decision we make is dictated by the need to avoid them. Every shelter we build is constructed with the knowledge that we'll have to abandon it soon. Every step we take is shadowed by fear, the constant dread that the undead will catch up to us.

I feel useless in all of this. My lack of skill in building makes me a burden to my tribe, and I can see it in their eyes. They don't say it out loud, but their frustration is clear. I want to help, to contribute in some way, but I don't know how. All I can do is keep moving with them, hoping that one day this nightmare will end.