The carriage halted with a final creak of wood and jingle of harnesses outside my cottage. Varey, the grizzled driver, gave a curt nod as Garrick and I disembarked. Before my boots had even settled properly on the familiar dirt path, the cottage door flew open and my mother, Elowen, rushed out, her face a mask of worry that instantly melted into overwhelming relief. She pulled me into a crushing embrace that made my bandaged back protest, but I didn't care. "My son!" she breathed, her voice thick with emotion.
She turned to Garrick, composing herself with visible effort. "Instructor, please, come in. You must be weary from the journey."
Inside the cozy, herb-scented main room, my mother offered water. Garrick sat stiffly on the offered stool, his large frame making the simple furniture seem tiny. "Mrs. Ashblade," he began, his voice gravelly but lacking its usual battlefield edge. "Your son faced a Tier S Alpha predator during a routine exercise – a Frostclaw Ravager in the Green Glade."
My mother paled, her hand flying to her mouth. Garrick raised a hand to forestall her panic. "He survived. More than that, he led the defense of his fellow cadets. He struck the killing blow." He met her eyes directly, and the rare, blunt praise in his words made my own cheeks flush with a strange mix of pride and embarrassment. "Courage. Raw power. You raised a remarkable young man. The Academy is fortunate to have him."
I watched my mother's fear ease, replaced by a dawning, bewildered pride as she looked at me. Garrick gave a sanitized account of the events, carefully omitting any mention of Darain and the Crimson Mark, then declined her offer of dinner with a shake of his head. "Duty calls elsewhere. Ashblade," he said, turning to me. "Rest well. Actually rest." With a final nod to my mother, he ducked out of the low doorway and was gone.
After a meal of my mother's hearty stew, eaten mostly in a comfortable, knowing silence, I felt a restless energy building. I needed air. I strapped on my new sword, its unfamiliar weight a comforting promise at my hip, and hiked into the sun-drenched fields behind our home, Storm darting and weaving joyously overhead in the clear blue sky.
I walked deep into the familiar rocky hills, the cottage shrinking in the distance behind me. The peaceful silence was suddenly broken as dirt erupted from a hole a few yards away. A creature heaved itself from the ground – low-slung, armored in thick, grey-brown hide, with massive clawed forelimbs built for digging and a blunt reptilian head filled with pebble-like teeth. It sniffed the air, its tiny black eyes fixing on me with simple aggression.
Instinctively, I focused. [Appraisal: Rockburrower Moledile] [Tier: E]
A Tier E. I could handle this. I drew my sword. As my grip tightened on the leather-bound hilt, something incredible happened. Veins of molten light ignited just beneath the steel's surface, tracing the fuller of the blade. Heat, palpable and fierce, radiated from the metal. Flame Enhancement! The appraisal was real. The Moledile hissed, unnerved by the light and heat, and lunged with a surprising burst of speed, a spade-claw swipe aimed at my legs. I blocked clumsily, the movement still new to my muscles.
CLANG! The superheated steel held firm. The creature screeched, yanking its claw back, the tip now blackened and smoking. It immediately vanished back down its hole.
I didn't have time to celebrate. I scanned the hillside. More holes. More blunt snouts emerged, hissing in unison. A pack. I backed up, keeping my glowing sword between me and the nearest threats. The dirt exploded *behind* me. A larger Moledile, the alpha of the pack, had tunneled around and slammed its full weight into my injured back.
"OOF!" The impact was a searing lance of pure pain right through the bandages. I stumbled forward, my boot caught on a root, and I tripped, face-planting hard into the dirt. I rolled over, coughing, wiping grit from my eyes, a raw, furious anger pushing past the pain.
Another Moledile shot from a hole directly in front of me. Fueled by rage, I twisted onto my side and swung the superheated blade in a wide, desperate arc. SSSZZZT! It met no resistance, searing through hide and bone. The beast fell apart in two smoking, cauterized halves.
[10 EXP Gained]
Before I could even take a breath, another Moledile burst up from the ground right next to me, its blunt head smashing into my stomach. "GUH!" The air left my lungs in a rush. I doubled over, coughing, as it too vanished underground.
Gasping for air, I forced myself to stand. Two more charged from left and right. I pivoted on my heel, swinging the blazing sword in a horizontal arc. It sliced clean through the first – a hiss of burning flesh – killing it instantly. The second ducked under the swing, its low profile saving it, and slammed its thick, armored forearm into my chin.
CRACK! White lights exploded behind my eyes. I reeled backward, my head ringing, the coppery taste of blood filling my mouth.
[10 EXP Gained]
[Level Up!]
[+1 Free Stat Point]
[HP: 47/50]
Level 2! The notification was a shock. I saw my health bar – 47 out of 50. Too close. That strike had nearly ended me. Red flames, fueled by my anger and the sword's own latent power, now wreathed the blade entirely. I was too slow. I needed to be faster. Without a second thought, I allocated the new point to SPD. A new, fluid agility surged through my limbs, making the world seem to slow down just a fraction.
The next Moledile charged. This time, I sidestepped with a swift, precise movement I hadn't been capable of moments before, bringing the flaming sword down in a clean, efficient kill. I spun, parried a swipe from another, and thrust forward – sizzle – another dead. Four more fell quickly, my movements becoming sharper, more controlled, the new speed stat making a tangible difference.
Three more charged from different angles. Instinctively, I planted my feet, raised my sword into a balanced, ready stance I'd seen the instructors use. A message flashed across my vision, bright and urgent:
[King Level Martial Art Activated]
It wasn't a skill I chose. It was a knowledge that flooded me, a pure, focused energy of intent. The charging beasts seemed to slow to a crawl. I moved. It wasn't just speed; it was efficiency, prediction, an economy of motion that was utterly alien and yet felt like my own. I flowed between them. A diagonal slash. A reverse cut. A downward thrust. Three Molediles dead in three heartbeats, each move perfect and lethal.
I didn't stop. The flow state carried me. One strike killed two beasts emerging from the same hole. Another three fell before they could even coordinate an attack. Five more lay smoking on the scorched earth, slain by a series of movements I couldn't have dreamed of performing minutes before.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the energy vanished. An exhaustion deeper than any fatigue slammed into me. My limbs turned to lead, the flames on my sword sputtered and died. My vision swam. I staggered, my body finally giving out, and collapsed onto my back, gasping ragged breaths at the sky. Storm landed on my chest, chirping frantically.
Weakly, I focused inward, pulling up my status:
[User Status: Level 2]
[EXP: 120/150]
[STR: 20]
[SPD: 21]
[DEF: 20]
[MANA: 21/50]
[HP: 47/50]
Level 2. I'd done it. But I felt hollowed out, my back and jaw throbbing in unison with my heartbeat. A final notification pulsed gently, waiting for my attention:
[New Skill Unlocked!]
[Access Skill Menu?]
Lying bruised and utterly spent amidst the scorched earth and dead Molediles, the sun warming my face, I managed a weak, grim smile. [Access Skill Menu.]