The well-trodden path was a comfort and a curse. Each step on the packed earth was easier than fighting through the underbrush, but every step also felt like walking down a published itinerary, his arrival becoming more predictable, more anticipated by unseen eyes.
The image of that vast, serpentine shadow gliding over the ridge wouldn't leave him. It hung in his mind, warping his perception of the peaceful streamside trail.
"System," he said, his voice low, the forced calm of the last hour beginning to crack. "That thing. The flying... thing. That can't be normal, right? I mean, I get the wilderness. I get the goblins. But a... a wyvern? If that's what it was. It looked smaller than the ones in games, but still..."
He shook his head, the logic of his old world scrabbling for purchase. "If there's a village down this path, how does it exist with that flying around? Wouldn't it just... burn them? Eat them? There's no way a village has anti-air defenses. Unless they have mages? Or ballistas? But this path doesn't look like it leads to a fortress. It looks like it leads to a farm. It doesn't add up."
He was arguing with the world's internal consistency, a reflex born of a lifetime consuming stories with rules. A monster that big near a village meant the village was hidden, defended, or already destroyed.
The System's response was characteristically analytical, dissecting his assumptions.
[Query: Coexistence Model - Aerial Predator & Ground Settlement.]
Analysis of User's Premise:
1. Assumption of Constant Aggression: You assume the creature is inherently and constantly hostile to humanoid settlements. This is not a given. Predators have territories, hunting patterns, and dietary preferences. It may not consider fortified settlements worth the risk or effort. It may prey exclusively on different fauna (large forest herbivores, perhaps).
2. Assumption of Settlement Vulnerability: You assume a village is defenseless. While they may lack 'anti-air defenses' in a modern sense, they would not survive if they were purely passive. Strategies could include: location (built under dense canopy, in caves, near geographic features that disrupt large flyers), deterrence (fire, loud noises, specific repellent scents/alchemy), timing (strict curfews, no travel during creature's active hours), or sacrifice/tribute (a grim but historically precedented survival strategy).
3. The Path as Evidence: The path's frequent use is the key data point. It suggests travel is regular and considered acceptably safe by those who use it. This implies the aerial threat is either predictable (known patrol times/routes that can be avoided), deterred from this specific corridor, or not a primary predator of humanoids.
4. Size Estimation: Your observation of smaller size is pertinent. A smaller specimen could be a juvenile, a lesser subspecies, or a different creature entirely (e.g., a 'forest drake' vs. a 'great wyvern'). A smaller size reduces its capacity to threaten a prepared group and increases its own vulnerability, potentially making it more cautious.
Conclusion: The presence of the creature and the presence of a nearby settlement are not mutually exclusive. They imply a state of tense coexistence or managed risk, not inevitable annihilation. The path is the proof. People walk here despite the shadow in the sky. Your task is not to question the logic, but to learn the rules of that coexistence before you break them.
Rules. The word resonated. This wasn't a game with flawed programming. It was an ecosystem with brutal, hidden laws. The villagers knew the law: Don't be on the high ridge when the shadow passes. The goblin knew another law: Run from strange smells in the bush.
And he was blundering through their world, ignorant of every single one.
The System's explanation was coldly reassuring. There was a logic. He just hadn't paid the tuition to learn it yet.
"Okay," he breathed out, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction. "So the village isn't crazy. They have a system. A way to live with it." He looked up at the patches of sky visible through the canopy. "Which means I need to get off this path before it decides this is a good time for a hunting run."
[Affirmative.] Increased vigilance is warranted. The creature's patrol pattern is unknown. Advancing under tree cover is currently your best defense.
Ali picked up his pace, the [Hiking] skill smoothing his stride. The valley began to widen. The stream to his left grew broader, slower. And then the trees thinned.
He saw light ahead—not the dappled light of the forest, but the open, golden light of late afternoon on cleared land.
He dropped to a crouch, crawling the last few meters to the tree line.
The forest ended abruptly at a rough, cleared border. Beyond it lay fields—not neat farmland, but rough patches of cultivated ground, stumpy with harvested stalks, surrounding a cluster of buildings.
It was not a village.
It was a homestead. A large, fortified farmstead.
A high, sharpened log palisade enclosed a central yard. Inside, he could see a large, steep-roofed longhouse made of dark timber and stone, and a few smaller outbuildings. Smoke curled from a central chimney. Outside the palisade, closer to the tree line, were a few animal pens, currently empty. The place had a squat, stubborn look, dug into the land like a tick.
And it was silent. No children playing. No workers in the fields. The main gate in the palisade was shut.
It wasn't the salvation he'd imagined. It was a bunker.
"System," he whispered, his mind racing. "Analysis. Now. Why is it so quiet? Where is everyone?"
[Visual Analysis of Homestead.]
Defensive Posture: Primary gate closed. No visible sentries on walls (but blind spots exist). Smoke indicates occupied. Animals possibly penned inside walls or released into forest for safety.
Hypothesis for Quiet: 1. Time of Day (late afternoon lull). 2. Security Protocol (in response to nearby threat—aerial or otherwise). 3. Cultural Norm (discipline, low population).
Assessment: This is a frontier-class settlement. Built for threat. Their first reaction to a stranger will not be welcome. It will be suspicion.
You have a choice: Reveal yourself. Or observe and wait for more data (e.g., someone to emerge).
Ali stared at the silent, stockaded farm. It was civilization. It had walls, fire, and presumably food. It also had people who built walls for a reason. People who were currently hiding behind them.
The worn path led right up to that closed gate. He was at the end of the line.
The rules of coexistence here were written in sharpened logs. He had to decide if he was willing to knock.