Adapting to the Wild: Fairies, Spirits, and the First Mana Stone

Am I getting used to it? Time flies.

Two weeks had passed since my reincarnation.

There was no calendar, so it might have been easy to lose track, but I'd marked the tree every day, so I knew it was accurate.

Back on Earth, this time would have flown by, but in my current leisurely yet hectic life, it had strangely felt endless.

And no wonder—my days as a vet had been a blur of treating animals nonstop, making time crawl. Now, trying to survive in this perilous forest meant constant vigilance and tension, which wore me out mentally.

Still, humans are adaptable creatures, and after two weeks, I'd settled in pretty well.

"Whooo, whooo~"

I was lounging in my treetop home, nestled in a bed of gathered leaves, listening to the wind rustling through the branches and the forest's symphony of sounds like some ASMR healing track, munching lazily on sun-dried fruit.

"Whooo-ooo! Nomf~"

'Man, this is paradise.'

People really need a place to call home. It keeps the body safe, sure, but more than that, it calms the mind and makes even unfamiliar spots feel cozy.

When I'd first tried building a shelter from vines and snapped branches, the struggles were endless.

My gorilla hands might look human-ish, but they were totally different for handling delicate materials to craft a nest. I went through every forest hardship imaginable: falls from the trees, giant bug attacks, sieges against owl-bears trying to climb up.

I'd endured it all.

The owl-bears nearly killed me, so I always stockpiled thorny fruits and hefty stones for defense around the house.

But hardship builds character, right? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'd picked up tricks along the way and finished a cozy—if a bit ramshackle—home.

A house built high in a massive tree—pretty romantic, huh? Huh?

I reached for more dried fruit in my wooden bowl... and it was empty. Ah, that was the last one.

My tastes had gotten pickier; I couldn't stomach just leaves without fruit anymore. Guess I'd have to head out briefly to pick some more.

Shhfff.

Shaking off the leaf pile, I stood, spotting my rudimentary furniture: a fruit drying rack and storage bin from branches and vine ropes, even a water jug from sticky sap and bark. Proud self-sufficiency masterpieces, all handmade.

Especially my top treasure: a basket and hat woven from vines and leaves. I grabbed them for the outing. Objectively civilized stuff.

Man, at this rate, I'd transcend species limits and evolve on my own. New humanity!

……

Alone, my mind wandered to silly thoughts. Having colleagues kept things lively back then. Maybe it's true you can't live solo—lately, I'd felt a bit lonely.

Shaking off the nonsense, I stepped outside and swung branch to branch through the canopy.

This aerial route was safest, with great visibility for scouting. Even monkeys slip from trees sometimes, so this gorilla took precautions, sticking to pre-cleared paths for ease.

The forest views never ceased to awe. Dark shaded spots under the canopy glowed with sunbeams piercing the branches and bioluminescent blue moss, giving the woods a mystical vibe.

Kyaahahaha!

Heeheehee!

Amid this enchanting scene, playful flyers zipped about: fairies with four wings on their backs.

Only two today?

The first time I saw them, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was shocked. Cute reminders that this was a fantasy world. Eung? Kyau!

Piiieee...

The fairies, frolicking together, spotted me and buzzed over, circling and teasing.

Heeheeheet!

Some looked like tiny gnomes, others like big butterflies. No need to distinguish appearances—they shapeshifted to whatever form they fancied each meeting, making it hard to tell them apart.

I waved hello. Not sure if they got it, but:

"Whooo-ooo-ho!"

'Hey. Just you two today?'

"Aripiyo gariemo?"

"Bino bino!"

They chattered greeting-like nonsense at me, then zipped off somewhere on their whim.

I wanted to chat, but their spoken words were gibberish, and they were too fickle for long hangs—just brief encounters.

Unless I offered dried fruit; they'd stick around till it was gone, then fly free. From their behavior, they probably just asked, "No fruit today?" and left.

After that short meetup, I reached the tree laden with apricot-like fruits. Massive for a fruit tree, so harvesting meant risking the heights.

Extreme difficulty for some, but who am I? A gorilla with a human mind.

Neighborhood stroll level. Still, safety first—I scouted the ascent path, then climbed without hesitation.

Pabababat!

Last time I picked low; now higher up. I carefully plucked unbruised fruits, filling my basket. Bountiful harvest again.

Compared to the barren, deadly ground, treetops offered abundance if you stayed cautious.

Just one thing to watch.

Zziiirrrrrr...!

The cricket chirp amplified a hundredfold hit my ears. I dropped harvesting and bolted down the tree like a leap.

Whoosh!

Pop!

Kieeeek!

Incredibly, a giant spider rappelled down on silk right where I'd been, stabbing its venomous stinger.

Spider-shaped, but its size was insane—horror for arachnophobes, grotesque enough to faint on sight.

Seeing it alone, I sighed in relief and hightailed it. Good, a female.

Males swarm in competition, bearing gifts to woo her, turning the branches into a deadly race.

"Kieeeng..."

'Damn, ruined a good run.'

Basket only half full.

This queen spider would linger in her web for a bit, hunting. Probably a week before safe return.

Until then, ration the dried stuff or fill up on leaves and bark when peckish.

Trudging dejectedly branch to branch homeward, familiar giggles tickled my ears.

Kyahahaha.

Eeheeheng.

Fairies sniffed out my fruit haul like ghosts, orbiting my basket.

My nose was stuffed, so I ignored them... but

"Mina moe."

"Mibua."

They gazed with teary, pleading eyes. Guh! Sneaky bastards! That puppy-dog stare had my hand opening the basket on autopilot!

Who could resist those eyes with a heart? No choice—I picked the plumpest two and popped them in their mouths.

Kyaho!

Nomnomnom...

Not sure if they thought me soft or easy, but they climbed my shoulder and chowed down happily.

Hey, I like cute things too, so ride away. With them perched, I headed home slowly.

Detouring to expand my range, the shoulder fairies suddenly yanked my ears, halting me.

"Bana buebo!"

"Nonu dana!"

They dropped their fruit, desperately blocking me, gesturing wildly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that danger lay ahead.

Playful even around beasts, what could scare them?

That question hung when

"Peet?!"

"Ganaua!"

They ditched me, diving into a tree knot hole, tossing glowing dust my way.

The powder touched, and childish voices echoed in my head:

'You guys... talking?'

The unbelievable could wait; I heeded the warning, ducking behind a tree and holding still.

Crunch crunch—grass underfoot.

I peeked: a familiar, annoying pest.

A green, ugly dwarf goblin. Sometimes chased by beasts or monsters, it hid when I hit ground level, then drooled and charged—only to get dog-pummeled by gorilla me and flee, the sneaky coward.

'What? Fairies scared of goblins?' Then the real terror they feared materialized from thin air.

'What the hell is that?'

The goblin mindlessly hacked brush with its stone knife. Sensing wrongness late, it looked up—at rippling empty space.

Fwoooosh!!!

A fist-sized fireball tore through like rending space, incinerating the goblin alive in an instant. No death cry—just ash.

I froze, fur bristling. Even from afar, heat singed my face.

The fairies trembled, calling it a spirit. Not predator fear, but awe at nature's wrath—like a typhoon or quake.

'Spirit? That's a spirit?'

Fantasy spirits were supposed to be cute, protagonist-pampering fluffies, right?

Guess I was wrong. At least here, they were savage. Even friendly fairies quaked.

I hid with them atop the tree till it vanished. Once they emerged from the knot, safety confirmed.

"Whooooh..."

'This forest still holds unknowns. Gotta keep sharpening up.'

Or... find a way to get stronger?

As I steeled myself to head home, one fairy zipped to the goblin's ashen remains, fetching a rice-grain-sized blue crystal and offering it.

What was that? Gallstone? Too sparkly.

Toy for them? Then:

Pointing at the crystal and my fruit basket—a deal.

Regretting the earlier tossed fruit?

Considering it thanks for saving me, I handed over a generous handful.

They cheered, naturally. I pocketed the unexpected blue crystal.

Pondering its use, a strange pull hit me. No—thirst.

The fruit-munching fairy urged me to pop ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the "mana stone" in my mouth. Like pushy smoker buddies? Nah.

No way they'd poison their savior, so curiosity won—I tried it.

Thus, my eyes opened to something new.

Fwaaaaah—!

'Huh? What’s this sensation?'

As they said, a cool, refreshing clarity filled my head, awakening untasted senses. Like a crisp autumn morning breeze piercing my mind and body? Weird metaphor, but it fit—no better words for the raw feel.

I hadn't swallowed, yet the mana stone dissolved, absorbing into me. Once tasted, I sensed it everywhere—the subtle, nose-tingling aura, faint yet unmistakable.

Was this the fabled mana?

While I spaced out, the satisfied fairies finished their fruit and departed.

Off they flew carefree.

I stared blankly, then headed home. Adapting to the new sense distracted me, but later I noticed my body had grown stronger too.

From then, my goal shifted. Safe survival became hunting monsters for mana stones to grow. To endure this world.