The First Transmigrat

[Year 2 | Day 366 – Day 410]

[Day 366]

Second year in this world.

The moment I woke up, I could feel it—the tension in my body, the dull ache that never went away. I took that as proof that I was still alive. Still adapting.

Starting today, I'm shifting focus. I need to go on more hunts, and not just as a human. I've decided it's time to get fully comfortable with my beast form. It's not enough to just use it in desperate moments. If this is part of me now, then I need to master it, understand every twitch, every impulse.

I hunted until the moon climbed high. By then, my claws were soaked in blood, and my lungs burned with exertion. I didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

[Day 375]

Training. More of the same.

Spear, claws, movement drills. I'm growing stronger, faster, more fluid. My beast form isn't awkward anymore. It's starting to feel natural—like sliding into a second skin.

But still, something gnaws at me. I'm getting stronger, sure, but it's slow. Too slow. There has to be a better way.

[Day 395]

A thought.

The Lumen Core. It feeds on moonlight energy. Lumen. It absorbs and recharges on its own, like breathing. But what if... what if I could interact with that process?

What happens if I draw in Lumen directly—into my human form?

No idea if it'll work. Maybe nothing will happen. Maybe it'll kill me.

But if there's a chance I can speed things up, change the rules... it's worth the risk.

[Day 400]

Attempted it.

Sat cross-legged in the cave under moonlight. The air was cool and still. I closed my eyes and focused, tried to sense the flow of energy, the invisible strands of Lumen drifting down from the sky.

I could feel it—barely, like mist against the skin. But no matter how hard I focused, I couldn't touch it. Couldn't pull it in. It slipped away like smoke through fingers.

The Lumen Core is the one doing the work. Not me.

Still… there has to be a way to force the flow, right? If I can increase the draw, maybe the core gets stronger. Or maybe… I do.

Experiment continues.

[Day 401]

No clever ideas today. No experiments.

Just pain.

I grabbed the spear and trained until my arms gave out. Over and over again, thrusting, stabbing, jabbing until my palms blistered and split open. Until I couldn't lift the damn weapon anymore.

Then I rested a few hours. Ate. Did it again.

And again.

And again.

Bleeding hands be damned. I'll keep doing this until even in my dreams, I'm holding that spear.

[Day 405]

Refined the spear again.

Made it longer this time. Heavier too. When I transformed into my bear form, I noticed—I'm a little taller now. Barely noticeable. But it's there.

The muscle growth is real.

Still not enough.

[Day 410]

Today was hell.

I ran into something new—something terrifying.

A snake. Or… something like a snake. Twenty meters long. Jet-black scales, muscle thick as tree trunks. Anaconda? Python? No. This thing was worse. Like a monster bred from every nightmare that slithered.

The damn thing stared right at me. Its tongue flicked once, then it lunged.

I didn't hesitate.

I charged straight into it, beast form fully engaged. My claws dug into its skull, scratching deep, but it was like cutting through rubber. It hissed, body coiling as it tried to swallow me whole.

I panicked. Leapt out. Just barely dodged its jaws.

It struck again. Tail whipped out, smashing through trees as if they were twigs.

I retaliated. Slammed the spear into its head, again and again. My claws ripped scales loose. But it was like the damn thing didn't care.

Then, it wrapped around me.

Tight. Crushing.

I could hear my ribs creak, pressure building in my lungs like I was being suffocated under a mountain.

I untransformed—shrinking just enough to slip free—then transformed again into a hybrid state, bought myself some distance.

The snake followed, relentless.

I dashed, grabbed my spear, leapt, aimed for its eye.

Direct hit. The spear sank into that glossy black orb, and for a moment, I thought I had it.

It screeched, a horrible, gurgling sound, and thrashed violently.

I backed off. Hid behind trees. Waited.

It turned—looked right at me.

Its eye... had healed.

Completely.

As if I had never touched it.

"What the hell…" I muttered, breathing hard.

This wasn't just a big snake. This thing had regeneration. Fast. Freakishly fast.

Before I could react, its tail slammed into me.

Crack. I went flying. Crashed through tree after tree. Everything blurred. My back screamed in pain, and something in my shoulder snapped.

Broken bones. Possibly more.

I forced myself up.

It wasn't over yet.

That bastard—it wasn't just strong. It was smart. It turned its head exactly where I was going to strike. It knew. Expected it.

This wasn't a wild beast.

It was a killer. One that had seen many like me.

And devoured them.

The only reason I'm still breathing is because I ran.

Not bravely. Not recklessly.

Smartly.

I didn't look back. Just ran. Made detours, loops, covered my tracks. I didn't stop until the forest felt unfamiliar again, until I reached the edge of my own mapped territory.

I collapsed outside the cave.

Everything hurts. But I'm alive.

Reflection Log

The snake wasn't just an encounter.

It was a message.

I've grown, yes. But there are things in this world that aren't impressed. Things far beyond me. I need to stop assuming I'm at the top of the food chain because of a few tricks and forms.

That snake... it's lived long enough to adapt. To evolve. Probably faced other transmigrators like me.

And it's still here.

Which means, next time, I need to be even better prepared.

I'll rest tonight. But starting tomorrow—

I need to prepare for war.