The silence of the northern woods was a living thing. It pressed in on Leo's ears, broken only by the crunch of their boots on frost and the ragged sound of their own breathing. The air grew colder, sharper, the deeper they went.
"Remind me why we're doing this again?" Mira whispered, her voice seeming too loud in the quiet.
"Adventure?" Leo offered, his eyes scanning the shadowy spaces between the ancient pines.
"Right. Adventure. I think I liked our adventures by the river better. It was warmer. And the fish weren't trying to eat us."
A low, guttural chittering sound echoed from up ahead. They both froze. Leo slowly pointed towards a moss-covered rock formation. Behind it, a fissure split the earth—one of the unstable ground features the shopkeeper had warned them about. And shuffling near its edge were three small, hunched creatures with mottled green skin and glowing yellow eyes. They were digging at the roots of a tree with long, dirty claws.
"Glimmerdew Goblins," Leo breathed, recalling his academy bestiary. "F-Rank. Mostly scavengers. They're not usually aggressive unless…"
One of the goblins straightened up, holding a pulsing, soft blue mushroom—a Glimmerdew Cap. The other two chittered with excitement.
"…unless you're after their loot," Leo finished. "Okay. Standard protocol. I'll draw their attention. You stay back."
Mira grabbed his arm. "Leo, your mana… are you sure? We could just go around."
He patted her hand. "They're F-Rank. I've been training for this. My mana's better. I can handle it."
It was mostly true. His mana was better. But a flicker of doubt, cold and sharp, needled him. This was different from the academy training yard. This was real.
He stepped out from behind their tree. "Hey! Ugly!"
The goblins spun around, hissing. Their yellow eyes narrowed on him. One dropped the mushroom and shrieked, brandishing its claws.
Leo fell into the basic combat stance Master Korran had drilled into him a thousand times. He felt for his mana, that faint, flickering candle flame inside him. He pushed it outward, feeling a thin, almost invisible shimmer around his fists—the most basic mana reinforcement.
The lead goblin lunged. Leo sidestepped, just like in training, and threw a punch. His reinforced fist connected with the creature's side. There was a satisfying thud, and the goblin squealed in pain, stumbling back.
It worked.
A surge of confidence shot through him. He kicked out at a second one, catching it in the chest. It tumbled backwards, skidding dangerously close to the edge of the dark fissure.
The third goblin, smarter than its friends, didn't charge. It scooped up a sharp rock and hurled it at Leo's head. Leo ducked, but the movement was sloppy. The rock grazed his temple. Pain exploded, and his concentration shattered. The faint mana around his fists sputtered and died.
The first goblin, recovered, saw its opening. It leaped, claws aimed at Leo's face.
Time seemed to slow. Leo's heart hammered against his ribs. This was it. This was how he died, in some forgotten F-Rank rift, to a creature barely a foot tall. The memory of Torin's team, of the wyrm, flashed before his eyes. The fear was paralyzing.
"LEO!"
Mira's voice cut through the panic. A rock, thrown with surprising force, smacked the leaping goblin in the side of the head. It wasn't enough to hurt it badly, but it was enough to throw off its aim. The claws swiped through the air inches from Leo's eyes.
The distraction was all he needed. The fear didn't vanish, but it was suddenly drowned out by a raw, survivalist anger. He wasn't going to die here. Not like this.
He didn't try to summon his mana. He just moved. He grabbed the dazed goblin by its scrawny arm, spun, and with a grunt of effort, hurled it towards the fissure. It wasn't a graceful move. It was pure, desperate strength.
The goblin shrieked, tumbling through the air before vanishing into the blackness below. The sound of its cry was cut off abruptly.
The remaining two goblins froze, staring at the dark hole where their companion had been. They looked at Leo, now breathing heavily, a trickle of blood running down his temple. They looked at Mira, who was already searching for another rock.
With a final, fearful chitter, they turned and fled into the woods.
Silence returned, heavier than before.
Leo sank to his knees, his hands shaking. The adrenaline was fading, leaving a cold hollow in his gut. He'd just killed something. It wasn't a monster in a hidden dungeon; it was a pathetic, scavenging thing. And he'd thrown it into a pit to die.
Mira rushed over. "Leo! Your head!" She fumbled in her pack for the first-aid kit, her own hands trembling.
"I'm okay," he said, his voice hoarse. "It's just a scratch."
She wiped the blood away with a clean cloth, her face pale. "You were amazing. You… you got one."
Leo didn't feel amazing. He felt sick. He looked at the Glimmerdew Cap, still lying innocently on the ground. Its soft blue glow seemed to mock him.
"I lost control," he muttered. "My mana… it's still too weak. If you hadn't been here…"
"But I was," Mira said firmly, finishing with the bandage. "That's the point of a team, right? Even a two-person 'logistics' team." She tried for a smile, but it was weak.
He managed a nod, looking at her properly. She'd been brave. Braver than him in that moment.
She picked up the mushroom and handed it to him. "Here. First loot. We're rich."
He took it. The mushroom was cool and slightly damp. It was worth a few guilders. A pittance. It had almost cost him his life.
He stared into the dark fissure. The shopkeeper's words echoed in his mind. 'Just… fell in. Never found 'em.' Had they fallen? Or had they been pushed?
The easy confidence he'd felt on the train was gone. The north wasn't an adventure. It was a brutal, unforgiving lesson. And it had just taught him the first one: he was still prey. And his secret weapon, the ring, was a last resort, not a first option.
He had to get stronger. For real.