13.THE NORTHERN REGION

POV: Nix

The reason I left the tribe was to prove to myself that I could survive on my own, that I didn't need the tribe's help. I felt weak, constantly relying on others, and I thought that by leaving, I could find strength within myself. But in my anger, I left without fully considering the dangers I would face. I was blinded by my need to prove something, and I didn't stop to think about the challenges or the wilderness that awaited me.

It didn't take long for my recklessness to catch up with me. On the very first day, I was attacked by a wild boar. Its tusks were sharp and deadly, and I was completely unprepared. I barely managed to escape its vicious assault, stumbling and dodging as best I could. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel my strength waning. If it hadn't been for that person's help, I wouldn't have made it out alive.

He stepped in at just the right moment, driving the wild boar away and saving my life. But even as he helped me, I was too dazed, too wary to ask his name. I didn't trust him enough to understand his intentions. Why had he helped me? Was it an act of kindness, or did he expect something in return? I couldn't be sure, and my mind was too clouded by exhaustion and suspicion to find out.

Now, what's done is done. I can't change the past, no matter how much I might want to. I know I made mistakes—leaving the tribe, acting recklessly, putting myself in danger—but I can't dwell on them forever. What I need to do now is focus on moving forward. When I meet that person again, I'll try to resolve things. I'll figure out what his true intentions were, and maybe, just maybe, I'll thank him for what he did.

For now, though, the tribe is ahead. I've been gone long enough, and I know it's time to return.

As I approached the familiar boundary of the tribe, emotions surged within me—relief, nervousness, and a tinge of regret. When I arrived, familiar faces immediately surrounded me. Their reactions were overwhelming. They were worried, relieved, even a little surprised. They hugged me tightly, their voices filled with concern as they asked why I had left, why I hadn't told anyone.

I realized I hadn't thought this far ahead. I hadn't planned on returning, not until I felt I had accomplished something worthwhile. But now, with the weight of everything pressing on me, I felt the need to explain myself.

I opened up about my insecurities, my feelings of inadequacy, and the reasons behind my departure. I told them how I had left to prove that I could stand on my own two feet, to show that I wasn't just someone who needed to be looked after. I admitted that I thought I could prove my worth by surviving alone, without the tribe's support.

The tribe head listened carefully, his expression unreadable at first. But when he finally spoke, his face hardened with disappointment. He scolded me, his voice stern as he questioned why I had felt the need to prove myself in such a reckless way. He reminded me of something I had lost sight of—that the tribe was my family. "We are a tribe. We face things together," he said firmly.

His words struck me harder than I had expected. I had been so focused on proving my independence that I had neglected the people who cared about me. I realized how foolish I had been, pushing them away when they had always been there for me. A wave of guilt washed over me, heavier than I could bear.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I broke down completely. I cried, feeling utterly useless, like I had failed—not just myself, but the tribe that had always supported me. My pride had blinded me, and in my quest to prove my worth, I had caused pain to the people who mattered most to me.

But as the tears flowed, something shifted within me. A quiet resolve began to take root. I realized I didn't need to prove myself by standing alone. My strength came from the people around me, from the family I had in the tribe. I vowed, then and there, that I would protect my tribe, no matter what. I wouldn't leave them again—not like this. I had learned my lesson.

I wasn't alone. I didn't have to be. And from now on, I would stand by my tribe, always.

Where should I go first?

I didn't even ask him how to distinguish between the different regions of the forest. How am I supposed to navigate this vast place without any clear directions?

This is so frustrating. There's no point in standing here aimlessly. Maybe I should just start walking in a random direction—who knows, it might lead me to another region. It's not like I have a better plan right now.

Wait, what's this? A mountain? That's perfect! If I climb to the top, I might be able to get a better view of the area and figure out where I need to go next.

The climb was harder than I expected. The uneven terrain, tangled roots, and dense foliage made every step a challenge. My hands scraped against the rough bark of trees, and loose rocks shifted under my feet as I ascended. But I pressed on, determined to reach the summit. Thirty minutes later, I finally made it to the top, panting and wiping the sweat from my brow.

Wow. The view from up here is absolutely breathtaking. The entire forest stretches out in every direction, an endless sea of green with hints of variation scattered throughout. For a moment, I just stood there, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of it all.

But even with this incredible vantage point, I still can't figure out how to distinguish the different regions. Everything looks so vast and uniform from here. The subtle changes in the landscape aren't enough to guide me. I need a better way to see the area.

Let's try flying instead.

I activated my Fire Wing skill, feeling the surge of energy as flames ignited around me, forming the wings that would carry me. With a burst of power, I leaped into the air, leaving the mountain peak far below. The rush of wind against my face was exhilarating, and the air grew colder as I climbed higher.

After ascending approximately 500 meters, the view below finally became clearer. From this height, I could see it—the distinct regions of the forest. To the north, icy mountains rose sharply against the horizon, their snow-capped peaks gleaming under the sunlight like beacons.

That's it. That's where I'll go next. If I can make it to the icy mountains, I might be able to gain an ice affinity. It's decided. My next destination lies to the north.