5 - Goal

The wind whipped hard across the summit, carrying the scent of stone and frost, tugging at Luna’s cloak. She didn’t mind. She stood tall at the jagged peak, hands on her hips, her silver eyes wide as they traced the vast horizon.

Rolling plains, winding rivers, dense forests, and the faint shimmer of distant cities stretched endlessly beneath her.

Every inch of it pulsed with life, with promise. It was the kind of sight she’d once stared at on postcards, travel blogs, and the glowing screens of her phone.

Except now, it wasn’t just an image she could scroll past. It was hers.

Her lips curved into a slow, smug grin.

“So this… is my world now.”

She sank to the ground, sitting cross-legged on the cold stone. For a while, she just stared, letting the panorama sink into her bones. But as she did, her thoughts slid backward, tugged toward the life she’d left behind.

It hadn’t been miserable. No, not exactly. She’d laughed, she’d studied, she’d gamed. But life had been… narrow.

Home to university. University to part-time job. Part-time job back to home. Repeat. Over and over. Her world had been a loop, a tight orbit with no room for detours.

She’d dreamed of traveling. Of seeing mountains that scraped the sky, oceans that stretched forever, ancient cities with stone streets and crowded markets.

But dreams cost money. And she’d had none. Tuition devoured her, bills nipped at her heels, and the little she earned in wages barely bought snacks and game credits.

Travel? That had been fantasy.

Now, though—she spread her arms wide, embracing the wind—fantasy had bent into reality. She had the strength of her avatar, stats maxed, magic bending to her will. No more walls. No more loops.

“I’ll travel this world,” she said aloud, her voice whipped away by the wind. “Every mountain, every forest, every city. All of it.”

The idea made her pulse quicken. Excitement, real and sharp, thrummed through her.

Then her stomach growled.

Luna’s grin faltered.

“…Right.”

She sighed, flopping onto her back, staring at the blue sky above.

“I’m broke.”

The word hung heavy. Strength, skill, even invincibility—none of it translated into sweets. And sweets were essential.

Sure, she could survive. Fish, berries, maybe the occasional unlucky monster. But surviving wasn’t living. Surviving wasn’t traveling.

If she wanted to enjoy this new reality, she needed currency. Gold coins probably.

She chewed her lip thoughtfully, then turned her gaze downward again, scanning the horizon. That was when her eyes landed on the city.

It was far, a smudge of gray and white against the plains, but clear enough to make out its shape. Tall walls encircled it, broken only by two gate roads. Spires rose inside, but not skyscrapers. No glass towers, no steel beams.

Luna narrowed her eyes, studying.

“Middle Ages,” she murmured. The architecture was all stone and timber, heavy and practical. No electricity. No neon signs. Definitely not futuristic.

Which meant…

Her lips curled into a grin. “If this is like a game world, then bandits definitely exist.”

The thought sparked warmth in her chest. Bandits. Perfect. No morals to wrestle with, no guilt about hunting something innocent. Just scum hoarding gold they didn’t deserve.

She stood, hands brushing dust from her cloak.

“Alright then,” she said, smiling sharp. “Bandits first. Their gold is mine.”

The climb down was easier than the climb up, though not without risk. Loose rocks slid under her boots, and the cliffs dropped sheer in places. But her Agility carried her smoothly, her Strength let her grip and leap with ease.

Her eyes scanned constantly, searching. She wasn’t just descending—she was hunting. For trails, smoke, structures. Anything that screamed “bandits live here.”

But before the first signs of humanity came, something else blocked her way.

Five of them.

They stood in a line across the rocky path, each one easily thrice her height. Their stone bodies glistened with moss and dust, their eyes glowing faintly orange.

Luna slowed, her grin blooming.

“Well, well. Looks like the welcoming committee showed up.”

The golems shifted, grinding stone against stone, raising arms as thick as tree trunks.

Her heart thudded, not in fear but in exhilaration. Finally—something she could play with.

She lifted her hand, mana thrumming. “Blizzard.”

Snow and ice roared into existence, coating the battlefield. Frost crept along the golems’ limbs, slowing their movements. They groaned, swinging sluggishly, their glowing eyes dimming against the white.

But Luna wasn’t done.

“Water Lance!”

A spear of liquid shimmered in her grip, dense and sharp. She hurled it. The lance pierced the first golem’s chest, driving deep into its core. She smirked, snapped her fingers—

Boom.

The lance exploded inside the golem, water scattering outward in jagged sprays. And before the liquid even fell, she whispered, “Freeze.”

The scattered droplets hardened into spikes, embedding in stone. Frost spread instantly, crystallizing across the golem’s body, until it stood frozen, shards blooming from its chest like jagged petals.

The other four suffered the same fate, each pierced, each frozen into grotesque statues of ice and stone.

Luna lowered her hand, staring. Her grin softened, her eyes widening with fascination.

The golems stood like sculptures, frost flowers blooming from their wounds, crystalline shards catching the sunlight in dazzling patterns. It was brutal, violent, and breathtakingly beautiful.

She stepped closer, tilting her head.

“…That’s… cool,” she whispered, almost reverent.

A laugh burst from her chest, sharp and delighted. “Yes! That’s it. That’s the kind of spell I want.”

She tapped her chin, considering. “What to call it…”

Her eyes roamed over the frozen spikes, the way they spread outward like a flower in bloom.

“Bloom,” she decided, lips curling into a satisfied grin. “That’s the name.”

She stood there longer than she meant to, simply staring at the frozen golems. The artistry of destruction. Her destruction.

For a moment, she almost forgot why she was descending the mountain at all.

Almost.

The frozen corpses of the golems glittered behind her, catching the last light of the setting sun. For a fleeting moment, Luna almost stayed—admiring her art until the stars rose. But gold didn’t collect itself, and sweets didn’t materialize out of thin air.

“Sorry, masterpieces,” she murmured to the ice-sculptures. “I’ll come back and visit you later. Maybe.”

Then she began her descent in earnest.

The higher cliffs gave way to slopes scattered with stone and brush. Each step loosened pebbles that skittered down the incline. The sun bled toward the horizon, painting the sky in bands of crimson and violet.

Luna’s boots crunched softly, her eyes half-lidded in thought.

Bandits.

She rolled the word in her mouth like candy, savoring it. It wasn’t just about stealing their gold. It was about what they represented.

Unlike monsters, bandits chose to be cruel. They preyed on travelers, caravans, maybe even farmers. In the old world, she’d only read about such people in fantasy novels or history lectures. Now she could actually see them.

And stop them.

Her grin widened.

“Strongest player in the game, strongest person in this world, and now… strongest bandit hunter.” She twirled an imaginary sword, though her weapon was magic itself. “That’s a nice title.”

As the path narrowed, she crouched, using her hands for balance.

A small voice in her head—one she didn’t listen to often—asked, Is it really okay to just kill them?

Her brows furrowed faintly.

“Well…” she said aloud, hopping to a lower rock. “Let’s be honest. They’re bandits. It’s basically their job description to die in the most humiliating way possible. That’s, like, the natural order.”

She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully.

“…And if I don’t kill them, they’ll just kill someone else. A merchant. A traveler. A kid. So really, I’m not being mean—I’m doing charity work. Free labor, too.”

Her smug grin returned.

“Yeah. Hero of sweets and justice. That’s me.”

The path curved, giving her another glimpse of the far-off city. From here, its details sharpened. The walls were thick, crenelated, clearly meant to withstand sieges. Smoke drifted lazily upward inside, the faint gray of cooking fires.

Luna rested her chin on her fist.

“Bet they’ve got bakeries in there. Big ones. With cream puffs stacked in the window. Ugh.” She groaned dramatically. “If I get into the city broke, I’ll cry.”

She blinked, then smirked.

“No. Correction. If I get into the city broke, I’ll rob more bandits until I don’t.”

The simplicity of the solution pleased her.

By twilight, the jagged stone gave way to soil and greenery. The trees here weren’t like the scattered ones higher up.

These were giants, thick-trunked, their canopies overlapping into a living ceiling. Moss carpeted their roots, and the smell of damp earth hung heavy.

Luna slid down a slope, landing lightly, her cloak swirling.

The forest greeted her with chirps, rustles, the faint snap of branches. Birds darted above, small mammals skittered across her path. She crouched at one point, brushing her fingers over pawprints pressed into the dirt.

“Wolf,” she murmured, studying the size. “Or maybe a really big dog. Cute, either way.”

But the prints were old, the trail faint. She kept walking.

Her Agility turned her nearly silent. She stepped between roots with the grace of a dancer, her ears sharp for any sound that didn’t belong.

The forest wasn’t a dungeon, but it felt like one—dark corridors of green, alive with hidden things.

And somewhere inside, the scent of smoke.

It came faint at first, a tang on the air, wood burning, faint grease, the unmistakable signature of campfires.

Luna’s head lifted, her eyes narrowing.

“Well, well.”

She followed it, weaving between trees, her pulse quickening. The smell grew thicker, layered now with unwashed bodies, old leather, alcohol.

Then came the sound, laughter, rough and coarse, drifting through the trees.

Luna crouched, creeping closer.

Through the branches, firelight flickered. She edged forward, careful, until the forest thinned enough to reveal it.

An outpost.

Rough wooden palisades formed a square wall, logs sharpened into stakes at the top. Torches burned along its perimeter, casting long shadows. A crude gate sagged open, barely guarded.

Inside, she saw tents patched with mismatched cloth, wagons piled with stolen goods, weapon racks shoved haphazardly against the walls. A spit turned lazily over a fire, the smell of charred meat drifting outward.

And people.

Dozens of them. Men slouched around fires, laughing loudly, some sharpening blades, others drinking straight from bottles. A woman barked orders near a tent, her scarred face twisted in a scowl. A few leaned on the palisades, clearly bored.

Luna’s eyes glittered.

“Jackpot.”

She didn’t move immediately. Instead, she studied.

Her gaze tracked the guards. Only two at the gate, both half-asleep. Patrols? Sloppy. They circled lazily, their torches barely lifting, leaving wide gaps of darkness. Inside, discipline was nonexistent—men stumbled drunk, some already asleep.

Her grin widened.

“They’re practically begging me to rob them.”

Still, she didn’t underestimate. Numbers could overwhelm, even with her stats. And she wasn’t here to get reckless.

Her mind worked quickly, strategies forming and dissolving in seconds.

Option one, rush in, Blizzard everything, loot the ashes. Effective, but messy.

Option two, sneak in, pick them off quietly, scare the survivors into giving up info. Fun, but time-consuming.

Option three, theatrics. Mist, illusions, make them believe a demon’s haunting them before finishing the job.

She tapped her chin.

“Yeah… option three sounds way more fun.”

Her imagination wandered.

She pictured stepping into camp, fog swirling around her, her eyes glowing faintly with mana. The bandits would panic, swinging swords at shadows. She’d let one bolt in terror, then trip him with a wave of water. She’d smile sweetly, fangs bared, and whisper, ‘Boo.’

She giggled aloud, clapping a hand over her mouth.

The sound vanished quickly into the forest, but she crouched lower, eyes narrowing again.

Focus.

The night was thickening now, stars winking through the canopy. Perfect for what she planned.

Luna raised her hand, letting mana swell through her veins. Cool, steady, eager. She breathed deeply, savoring the sensation before speaking softly,

“Mist.”

At once, vapor spilled from her fingers. Wisps curled outward, seeping along the ground, coiling around her legs.

“Fog”

Fog thickened, spreading outward in slow, deliberate tendrils until even the nearest trees blurred.

Her body dissolved into shadow and haze. To any eyes, she would be just another swirl within the fog.

Luna’s smile sharpened, her eyes gleaming through the vapor.

“Let’s play.”

She slid forward, silent, unseen, the predator moving toward prey that had no idea death was already inside their walls.

The night embraced her, the mist cloaked her, and the first real test of her new world loomed ahead.