Ali stared at the silent homestead, his mind reeling from the System's suggestion. Animals released into the forest for safety? It was the dumbest thing he'd heard since arriving here.
"System, what the actual hell?" he hissed, keeping his voice to a whisper but letting the frustration bleed through. "If they have animals, why in the name of all that's fucked-up would they release them into the forest for safety? Did my malnourishment fry your circuits? That's like serving dinner to the goblins! Even if goblins don't come this far out... wait, do they?"
He paused, trying to orient himself in the tangled geography of fear he'd been running through. "Remind me. Where was the goblin? How far are we from that spot now? Are we even out of the wilderness, or is this—" he gestured at the stockaded farm, "—just a harder patch of it? And that ridge with the wyvern thing, how far is that from us right now?"
The System's response was immediate, overlaying the visual of the homestead with crisp, tactical data.
[Geospatial & Threat Reassessment.]
1. Goblin Encounter Location: Approximately 3.2 kilometers west-northwest of current position, following the stream/river path.
2. Current Zone Designation: Wilderness-Fringe. You are at the interface between untamed forest and managed land. The homestead is an outpost, not the heart of civilization.
3. Distance to Wyvern Patrol Ridge: Ridge is approximately 1.8 kilometers northeast of current position. The creature was patrolling a perpendicular line to your approach; the homestead lies outside its immediate observed patrol path but well within its potential range.
4. Regarding 'Animals for Safety' Clarification: Apologies for lack of clarity. The hypothesis was not 'release for safety' but 'taken to a secured pasture or sheltered enclosure within the forest' that is known and guarded by the homesteaders—a common frontier practice to preserve grazing land and conceal valuable assets from aerial observation. Releasing them outright would indeed be illogical. The core point stands: the absence of animals in the outer pens suggests a proactive security measure, not negligence.
5. On Drakes & Wyverns: Acknowledged. Cross-referencing user-provided data. Terminology adjusted. The sighted creature aligns more closely with Wyvern characteristics (two legs, wings attached to forelimbs, likely venomous stinger). Drakes (smaller, often wingless, trainable for labor/guard roles) are a separate classification. This supports the 'managed risk' hypothesis: a wyvern is a wild predator. A drake might be a domesticated asset. The homestead's defenses are likely calibrated for the former, not the latter.
The data painted a clearer, grimmer picture. He wasn't safe. He was in the buffer zone. The goblin was a few hours' hike back in the pure wilds. The wyvern was a twenty-minute flight away. This farm wasn't a sanctuary; it was a forward operating base in an active war zone.
"And if they see free food walking around, they'll nab it," Ali muttered, finishing his own thought. He wasn't just talking about goblins now. He was talking about the two-legged, wall-building inhabitants of the longhouse. To them, a starving, strangely-dressed kid emerging from the monster-woods wouldn't be a guest. He'd be a problem. A curiosity at best. At worst... free labor. Or a sacrifice to whatever kept the wyvern from burning the walls down.
The "managed risk" the System talked about included hard choices. Where did a nameless outsider fit in that calculus?
He looked at the closed gate, the silent walls. Revealing himself was a roll of the dice with loaded faces: Servant, Prisoner, Experiment, Sacrifice. Maybe, just maybe, Refugee.
Observing meant another night in the cold, hungry, with the wyvern's shadow between him and the moon.
His hand went to the flint shard in his pocket, its sharp edge a petty comfort. He had followed the path to its end. It ended at a gate.
He had to decide whether to knock, or to fade back into the trees and become just another piece of the wilderness they feared.