Cassian walked away from the training grounds with the weight of the wooden sword balanced against his thigh. The village plaza was still a chaotic mess of people trying to process their new reality, but a sense of structure was finally beginning to emerge.
He followed the path toward the inner wall where a large limestone building stood. It was a three-storey dormitory, constructed with heavy blocks that looked like they were meant to withstand a siege.
At the entrance, two men stood guard. They were older, perhaps in their late forties, wearing tactical trousers and sturdy hiking boots that had survived the transition from Earth.
One of them held a rough parchment ledger while the other leaned against the stone archway with a focused, scanning gaze. They didn't look like normal citizens. They had the disciplined posture of military veterans.
"Name?" the man with the ledger asked.
"Cassian Nil."
The guard checked his list and then looked at the wooden sword in Cassian's hand. "Alex sent word about you. You finished the basic training early. That earns you a meal and a room on the second floor. Room 204. It is nine square meters. Keep it clean and don't bring any trouble inside. We are keeping things tight in here."
Cassian nodded. "Who is 'we'?"
"A few of us who served back home," the man replied, his tone neutral but firm. "The Kingdom seems to want us alive, so they gave us the keys to this place to keep the peace. There is a mess hall on the ground floor. Food is served until the torches are lit."
Cassian entered the building. The interior was cool and smelled of damp stone and pine wood. The ground floor was a wide communal space with long tables. About fifty people were currently eating. The atmosphere was surprisingly quiet compared to the screaming in the plaza. The presence of the veterans had clearly suppressed the urge for a riot.
He walked to the kitchen hatch where a woman was ladling out portions of a thick, brown stew. He showed the mark on his quest that signified his training was complete. She handed him a wooden bowl and a thick slab of dark rye bread. The stew was heavy with root vegetables and some kind of stringy, salted meat. It tasted awful, but it was food.
He found a seat at the edge of the room. A group of the veterans sat three tables over, talking in low voices. Cassian focused his hearing, trying to pick up any scraps of information.
"The rats are just the perimeter," one of the men said, his voice carrying a slight raspy edge. "The scouts we sent out to the treeline saw green skins. Goblins. They aren't mindless. They were dragging a kill back into the deep woods. If we want to secure the strength for the Evaluation, we need to start clearing the forest tomorrow."
"The kids are terrified," another replied. "Half of them can't even hold their training swords without shaking. If we push them into the woods, it will be a slaughter."
"Then let them stay in the plaza," the first man grunted. "The Kingdom only cares about the ones who can fight. The rest are just dead weight."
Cassian finished his meal and stood up. He didn't have any intention of joining their unit. They were thinking like soldiers, focused on squads and perimeters. He had survival as his first objective. He made his way to the second floor and found Room 204.
The room was small, exactly nine square meters. It contained a stone bed frame with a thin straw mattress, a small wooden chest for storage, and a single narrow window. There was no light source, but the moon was beginning to rise, casting a pale glow across the floor. He closed the door and sat on the bed, pulling his equipment from his inventory.
He spent the next few minutes analyzing the mechanics of his Talent. He touched the stone wall of the room and willed the extraction to trigger. Nothing happened. He tried the wooden chest next. Again, the system remained silent.
He realized now that the talent had a very specific trigger. It didn't just extract from anything he touched. It required the object to be broken or discarded in some way. The training dummies had worked because they were destroyed. The scavengers worked because they were dead. His power was a scavenger's tool, meant to reclaim value from what was already lost.
He also tested the limits of his application. When he tried to imagine applying a modifier to the stone bed frame, a dull pressure formed in his mind. The system gave him a clear boundary: he could only modify items that were registered in his personal inventory. He couldn't enhance the world around him, only the gear he carried.
He checked his status one more time to be sure.
[Status Panel]
Name: Cassian Nil
Talents: Modifier [S]
Level: 1 (0/20)
Class: None
Titles: None
Health: 100/100
Stamina: 100/100
[Attributes]
Strength: 7
Agility: 10
Vitality: 10
Intelligence: 8
Wisdom: 7
Available Points: 0
His [Squire's Leather Bracers] were equipped on his forearms. He looked at the slots. Both were currently at [1/2], each holding a [Regenerating (F)] modifier. He still had a free slot on each one, but he had no modifiers left in his library. He had used everything on his sword and his armor.
He stood up in the center of the room. He didn't want to get rusty. He began a series of three sets of weighted calisthenics. He focused on slow, eccentric movements. He did deep lunges, paused push-ups, and core rotations. He felt the new tension in his muscles. With Vitality at 10, his recovery was noticeably faster. The tiredness didn't build up as quickly as it used to. He pushed until his skin was slick with sweat and his breathing was heavy but controlled.
When he finished, he wiped himself down with the remains of his old shirt and lay on the straw mattress. He listened to the sounds of the village through the window. Somewhere in the distance, a scavenger rat shrieked. A few people were still crying in the rooms down the hall.
Cassian ignored it all. He closed his eyes and forced his body into a state of deep rest. He needed to be out before the sun was fully up.
The first hint of grey light was beginning to bleed through the window when Cassian woke. He didn't feel the usual morning grogginess. His mind was sharp and his body felt light. he equipped his sword and slipped out of the room, moving quietly down the stone stairs.
The mess hall was nearly empty. A few of the veterans were already up, drinking what looked like hot grain water. They watched him as he passed. None of them spoke. They saw a lone kid heading for the gates, and they likely expected him to be another casualty for the morning report.
He stepped outside. The air was bitingly cold and a thick mist clung to the ground. The needle-grass was heavy with dew, making a soft, shushing sound against his boots as he walked. He passed the outer gate where a few torch-bearers were still on watch.
Beyond the gates, the "teams" were already active. He saw a group of four men huddling together in the tall grass. They were shouting at a single scavenger rat, swinging their wooden blades with zero coordination. One of them got nipped on the ankle and let out a yelp that could be heard for miles.
Cassian shook his head and kept moving. He didn't want to be anywhere near the noisy crowds. He headed straight for the treeline. The needle-grass gradually gave way to actual soil and thick roots. The forest was different from the ones he knew on Earth. The trees were massive, with bark that looked like obsidian and leaves that were a deep, bruised purple.
As he entered the shadows of the canopy, he slowed down. He didn't rely on his Agility 10 to move fast. Instead, he used it for control. He placed every footstep with extreme care. He checked the ground for dry branches. He timed his movements with the swaying of the trees to mask any sound he might make.
He was deep in the woods when he heard a new sound. It wasn't the chittering of a rat. it was a rhythmic, splashing noise followed by a low, grunt-like whistle.
Cassian dropped into a crouch. He moved through a thicket of ferns, his eyes scanning the gaps in the foliage. Ten meters ahead, a small clearing opened up.
A Level 2 Goblin Scout stood there. It was smaller than a human, but its limbs were long and wiry. Its skin was the color of a stagnant pond, covered in patches of grime and old scars. It wore a simple loincloth made of poorly cured hide. The creature had its back turned to the thicket, busy relieving itself against a rotting log.
Cassian waited. He watched the goblin's ears twitch. He waited for the wind to pick up, and when a gust rattled the purple leaves above, he moved.
He didn't run. He glided. He closed the gap in three long, silent strides. His wooden sword was already in position. He didn't go for a wide swing that would catch on the branches. He used a straight thrust.
The [Sharpness] modifier did the work. The wooden tip, hardened to a molecular edge, slid into the back of the goblin's neck. It bypassed the spine and severed the windpipe in a single motion.
The goblin didn't even have time to drop its loincloth. It made a wet, choked sound and went limp. Cassian held the sword in place for five seconds, ensuring the life had fully drained from the body.
[Level 2 Goblin Scout Killed. +20 EXP]
[Experience: 20/20]
[Level up! All attributes increased by 1.]
[5 Stat Points awarded.]
The system message flickered in his peripheral vision. He ignored it and immediately began a harvest.
'Harvest.'
The goblin dissolved into the familiar grey particles.
[Acquired: Goblin Ear x1]
He checked the area. There was no loot other than the ear. No modifiers dropped.
He didn't linger on the disappointment. Goblins were a source of income, not just power. He looked at the ground and saw a series of fresh, muddy prints leading further into the forest.
He followed the trail. The woods grew denser and the light struggled to reach the forest floor. He moved ten meters, staying low to the ground. He rounded a massive tree with bark that felt like stone.
He stopped instantly. His heart didn't race, but his muscles tightened.
Another goblin scout was right there. It was less than five meters away, partially obscured by a fallen trunk, but it seemed busy at work.
The creature held a jagged piece of flint and was meticulously carving symbols into the wood of a standing oak. The sound of the stone scraping against the bark was loud in the quiet forest.
The goblin was focused, its large ears pinned back as it worked on the marking. It was clear that this wasn't just random scratching. It was leaving a trail or a warning for others of its kind.
Cassian stayed frozen in the shadows. He could see the yellow tint of the creature's eyes as it squinted at its work. He calculated the distance. He was close, but the second goblin was more alert than the first. If he missed the kill, it would scream, and the forest would wake up.
Taking a shallow breath, Cassian allocated his new stat points. He felt his muscles knit tighter and his perception of the goblin's movements slow down just a fraction more. He tightened his grip on the training sword, his eyes locked on the target.
[Status Panel]
Name: Cassian Nil
Level: 2 (0/40)
Talents: Modifier [S]
Class: None
Titles: None
Health: 110/110
Stamina: 110/110
[Attributes]
Strength: 11 (8->11)
Agility: 13 (11->13)
Vitality: 11
Intelligence: 9
Wisdom: 8
Available Points: 0