Knowing something could jeopardize his journey, Leonard took a moment to examine the place he had stopped. The field, stained in shades of red, displayed subtle dips and bumps that caught his attention.
"Maybe I can sleep in one of those holes. It's far from comfortable, but it'll have to do…"
He approached one of the depressions and, unable to see the bottom, picked up a rock and dropped it in. The faint sound of impact, after a few seconds, revealed the hole wasn't as deep as it looked.
"Here we go again… crawling into another hole," he muttered, cleared his throat, and jumped, making sure not to land on his head.
The fall was rougher than expected. Leonard slipped on impact, and though his legs were unharmed, his side slammed against the wall of the pit, sending a sharp pain through his serratus anterior. It wasn't debilitating, but definitely uncomfortable.
Unlike the view above, inside this shallow pit—which he could climb out of later—everything felt off. It was as if the upper world's perspective had warped completely.
"Huh… looks way closer to the surface than I thought. This place always finds new ways to be weird…"
He moved away from the entrance, nudging a stone that bounced a few times before hitting something. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Leonard saw a skeleton partially clad in a rusted chainmail shirt, worn-out pants, and a plain iron-gray helmet.
After everything he'd witnessed, a dead ancient knight didn't exactly shock him.
"Armor? This looks medieval… Could this place really be part of Earth? And if not… then where am I? Why are there only bodies?"
One thought still clung to his mind: the haunting memory of the towering castle piercing the sky—an impossible fortress that defied all logic.
"Was he… a knight from that cursed place? Maybe…"
Pushing the thought aside, Leonard approached the skeleton. In its right hand, still tightly clenched, was a sword. He pried the stiff fingers open and took the blade.
He didn't know much about swords, but even he could tell this one was in terrible shape—nearly blunt, with a crumbling hilt, and absurdly heavy. It felt like lifting a crate full of books.
"How the hell did these guys carry this around all day?" he said to no one, more to fill the silence than out of genuine curiosity.
Setting the sword aside, Leonard lay on the dusty floor beneath the earth. Glancing at the skeleton, an idea popped into his head. He rolled over to face the wall and let out a short laugh.
"That's better."
Without ceremony, he fell asleep, exhausted from the long day.
…
When he woke, Leonard couldn't tell if it was morning or night. Stretching, he noticed something he'd missed earlier: a faint gleam near the skeleton. A battered canteen caught the ambient light trickling through the hole above.
He picked it up and gave it a shake—liquid sloshed inside. Tucking it into his pocket, he chose not to open it, fearing a rotten stench. Ready to climb out, he assessed the opening above and began his ascent.
Before leaving, he gave the skeleton one last look. A strange melancholy stirred in him.
"He had a name, once… didn't he? Lost now to time. But I'll name you, so you won't be forgotten."
The thought washed over him like a whisper in his bones.
"Henry. You were definitely called Henry. Farewell, warrior. I hope you find peace in this place."
After finishing the rest of his provisions, Leonard returned to the spot where he had jumped down. He stared at it for a while, sighed, and began climbing—mentally mapping out each foothold.
With each grip on the jagged rock, fear of falling gnawed at him. Any slip could mean disaster, and that constant dread kept him sharp, even as his muscles cried out in protest.
The final stretch of the climb was steeper, with the last ledge seemingly out of reach. Leonard struggled for nearly two minutes to get there, his body screaming from the effort while his mind refused to quit.
The climb was far from simple. The added weight of the decaying sword and the canteen made every move slower and heavier. He had overestimated his strength, and the challenge became almost unbearable.
Then came the leap.
All or nothing: he either caught the ledge or fell and paid the price.
With sheer will and a bit of luck, Leonard's hands latched onto the final rock. His fingers dug into its rough surface as he hauled himself up with every ounce of strength he had left. With a pained grunt, he finally pulled himself onto the grass and rolled to a stop, utterly spent.
"Ugh… thought I'd be stuck down there…" he mumbled, breathless. "Next time, maybe don't bring extra weight…"
Lying on his back, his chest heaved in quick, uneven gasps. His breath came in ragged bursts like a storm inside him.
"There's no way I'm doing that again…"
Too tired to speak further, he stayed still, breathing, gathering strength once more. After all, he still had a long day ahead.
He needed food.
This was only the beginning of another long day of survival.