The morning air inside the Adventurer's Guild smelled of stale ale, polished leather, and burning hearth wood.
Ravon approached the long wooden counter, the dark wire-wrapped hilt of his sword tapping lightly against his leg. Merry stood behind the desk, organizing a stack of parchment.
"Good morning, Ravon," she greeted, offering her professional smile.
"Is my license ready?"
Merry reached beneath the counter and slid a cool, heavy rectangle of solid bronze across the wood. Etched cleanly into the metal was his name, followed by a bold, stamped D.
"This is your official Hunter's License," she explained. "You use this to accept quests, and it also functions as a permanent gate pass for any city in the kingdom. Available bounties are pinned to the quest board. I highly recommend starting with something easy."
Taking the cold bronze plate, Ravon walked straight toward the sprawling corkboard covering the far wall.
Dozens of parchment sheets fluttered slightly in the draft. The variety was staggering. A B-rank request called for the elimination of rampaging maroon boars. An E-rank gathering quest asked for Aethergrass for potion brewing. An A-rank bounty demanded the total destruction of a mountain bandit camp, and a C-rank paper offered a decent reward for killing a stray Orc.
Overwhelmed by the sheer volume of choices, Ravon carefully read through the lower tiers. His eyes landed on a simple D-rank bounty: Eliminate Goblins in Arora Forest. Proof of kill: Goblin Mana Core. Reward: 6 copper coins per core. Issued by: Arkenfall Guild Branch.
Pulling the paper from the board, he brought it back to the counter.
Merry reviewed the bounty and nodded approvingly. "This is a perfect starting point. Just remember not to wander too deep into Arora Forest." She paused, her brown eyes scanning his plain white shirt, dark woven pants, and leather boots. "Goblins are not mindless slimes or horned rabbits. They use weapons. I strongly suggest you visit an armorsmith and buy some basic gear before you hunt."
Ravon looked down at his unprotected body. "Okay. I'll get some gear first."
The market district of Arkenfall was a chaotic, vibrant sea of merchants and travelers. Ravon navigated the cobblestone streets, dodging heavy wooden carts. Passing a local fishmonger, a row of strange, hanging fish caught his eye—their skin a bright, unnatural orange, covered in thick, glittering red scales.
A few doors down, the rhythmic, ringing CLANG of a blacksmith's hammer beating hot iron easily drowned out the chatter of the crowd.
A phantom warmth brushed against Ravon's palm. The heavy scent of iron and the bustling crowd pulled him sharply back to a memory from three years ago. Mira had held his hand tightly in this market, walking him toward the city cathedral. The rich aroma of spiced meat skewers drifting from a nearby restaurant perfectly matched the lunch they had shared that day.
The ache of missing his family tightened his throat. He stood still in the middle of the busy street, letting the memory breathe for a long moment before pushing forward.
The Armorsmith's shop radiated heat. Inside, perfectly polished sets of gear rested on heavy wooden armor stands. A suit of full-body black knight armor dominated the center of the room. Beside it sat heavy, gold-plated cavalry gear and a pair of intimidating crimson gauntlets with fingertips sharpened into literal metal claws.
A broad-shouldered man with deeply tanned skin, thick forearms, and a long white beard stepped out from the back forge, wiping his soot-stained hands on a rag.
"Those crimson gauntlets are quenched in the blood of an Earth Dragon," the armorer grunted, noticing where Ravon was looking. "You can punch straight through half-inch steel with those fingertips."
"I'm Ravon," the boy introduced himself. "I'm looking for some gear to hunt goblins."
The armorer looked down. The boy was barely four feet and three inches tall. "You're a bit too small to equip the dragon gauntlets, kid. Come to the counter."
Following the broad-shouldered man to the front desk, Ravon inspected the basic, un-enchanted iron gear laid out on the wood. There were segmented iron gloves, chest guards, shoulder plates, elbow guards, and knee guards.
"The iron gloves and the chest guard cost two gold and four silver coins each," the armorer stated. "The shoulder, elbow, and knee guards are one gold coin each."
Ravon did the math in his head. After paying Elizabeth for the month at the inn, his leather pouch held exactly nine gold and nine silver coins. The chest plate and gloves were entirely out of his budget. Equipping the heavy iron knee guards would severely limit the speed he relied on to fight larger opponents.
"I will take the elbow guards and the shoulder guards," Ravon decided.
The armorer nodded, trading the segmented iron pieces for two of Ravon's gold coins. Stepping out of the shop, Ravon securely strapped the cold metal over his white shirt.
At the East Gate, the guards glanced at his bronze license and waved him through.
Stepping off the yellow brick road and onto the natural dirt path, a fierce thrill of excitement raced through his veins. He closed his eyes, pulling a deep breath of fresh, wild air into his lungs. He was an adventurer.
Breaking into a steady jog, he covered the single mile to Arora Forest in minutes.
The treeline offered nothing extraordinary—just a dense grouping of normal oak and pine trees. Ravon slipped into the shadows of the canopy, his boots stepping lightly over the damp earth. Minutes ticked by in total silence. Finding a monster in an entire forest was much harder than Darius made it look.
CRACK.
The sharp sound of a dry stick breaking underfoot echoed through the brush ahead.
Ravon crouched, creeping silently forward. Through a gap in the dense green foliage, three small, green-skinned figures lumbered awkwardly through the trees, dragging heavy, crude wooden clubs behind them.
"Found you," he whispered.
Drawing his sword with a quiet hiss of leather, Ravon funneled green Motion mana into his legs. He blurred forward, launching a lethal sneak attack directly at the back of the trailing goblin.
Enchanted steel effortlessly pierced the monster's spine, erupting through its chest. Dark blue blood spattered across the forest floor.
The remaining two goblins spun around, their yellow eyes wide with shock before turning instantly feral. Both creatures shrieked and charged.
Ravon ripped his sword free. He quickly channeled a red string of Defense mana into his left arm. The thick wooden club of the first goblin slammed hard into his forearm, bouncing off the invisible magical barrier. Using the opening, Ravon stepped into the goblin's guard and swept his blade cleanly through its neck.
The creature's head hit the dirt with a wet thud.
Seeing its two partners slaughtered in seconds, the third goblin dropped its club and bolted into the thick timber.
"You can't run from me," Ravon smirked. He raised his free hand, summoning a roaring fireball, and hurled it straight into the fleeing monster's back.
The goblin erupted in flames, unleashing a piercing, agonizing scream that echoed for miles through the quiet forest before it finally collapsed into ash.
Ravon wiped a spot of blue blood from his cheek. Darius had warned him numerous times never to underestimate the creatures of the Beast Forest, claiming that a single moment of distraction could get a man killed. But looking at the scorched earth and the easily decapitated bodies, the warrior's warning felt severely exaggerated.
"Goblins are weak," Ravon concluded, resting his sword over his shoulder. "Next time I'll pick a harder quest."
Then, the deep timber of the forest shifted.
A distant rustling echoed from the dark tree line. Snap. Snap. Heavy boots crushed dry branches. Low, guttural growls vibrated through the damp air, approaching rapidly from multiple directions at once.
The heavy undergrowth violently parted.
Four towering figures stepped out of the shadows. These goblins were entirely different—twice the size of the scouts, their muscles thick and corded, gripping rusted iron swords and heavy spiked maces.
Ravon tightened his grip on his hilt. How did they find me so fast? The realization hit him like cold water. The burning goblin hadn't just screamed in pain. It had screamed for reinforcements.
The largest goblin charged, swinging a rusted, jagged sword in a brutal horizontal arc. Ravon channeled his Motion magic, jumping straight up into the air to dodge the lethal sweep. Gravity instantly pulled him back down. He landed boots-first directly onto the goblin's broad shoulders, driving his steel blade straight down into the top of its skull.
The monster crumpled. Using his high vantage point before the body hit the earth, Ravon rapidly chanted, launching three high-speed spheres of compressed water at the remaining trio.
Two of the goblins dove out of the way. The third took the water blast directly to the chest, its ribs shattering under the pressure as it died instantly.
Kicking off the falling corpse, Ravon charged one of the survivors. He swung his blade in a heavy, downward chop. The goblin raised its own dull iron sword to block.
CLANG.
Enchanted steel met rusted iron. A tiny silver fragment flew through the air as the edge of Ravon's sword visibly chipped.
The sight of Darius's treasured weapon breaking broke his absolute concentration for a single, fatal second.
A heavy spiked mace slammed directly into his spine.
The agonizing impact knocked the breath from his lungs and sent him stumbling violently forward. Completely off balance, Ravon looked up just as the goblin with the rusted sword lunged, thrusting the jagged point straight at his exposed neck.
His golden core flared. The red Physical Enchantment of Defense rushed over his skin.
The rusted tip struck his throat, but the dull metal simply bounced off the heavy aura, unable to pierce the hardened magic.
Using the momentum of his stumble, Ravon pivoted hard on his front foot. He unleashed a flawless, spinning double-slash. Enchanted steel bit through the crude armor and thick green hide, cutting both remaining goblins cleanly in half.
Ravon dropped to his knees in the dirt, his chest heaving. Reaching into his bag, he uncorked a small glass vial and downed the bitter, minty liquid of Mira's healing potion. The sharp throbbing in his spine slowly melted away into a dull ache.
"I completely underestimated them," he breathed in the empty field.
Pulling a small hunting knife from his belt, Ravon began the messy work of digging the mana cores out of the goblin chests. The stones were small, pale green, and slick with blue blood.
Wiping them clean on the grass, he counted seven stones in total. Six copper coins per core. Seven times six was forty-two copper coins. At twelve copper to a silver, his final reward would be three silver and six copper coins.
It was a meager sum for nearly getting killed, but it was his first earned wage.
The sky had already bled into the deep purple of twilight by the time Ravon pushed open the heavy doors of the Adventurer's Guild. The tavern was even louder in the evening.
He walked to the counter and piled the seven green stones onto the wood.
Merry counted the cores quickly and handed him a small leather pouch of coins. "How was your first hunt?"
"I encountered three goblins at first," Ravon explained, rubbing his sore back. "After I killed two, the last one ran. When I hit him with a fireball, he screamed. Then four much bigger goblins showed up out of nowhere."
"The scream," Merry nodded knowingly. "Goblins are pack monsters. When one is dying, it shrieks to call the rest of the horde for reinforcements. I highly recommend you stop by a bookstore and buy a monster encyclopedia to study D-rank and C-rank behaviors."
"Thank you. I'll do that." Ravon tucked the coins away and turned toward the quest board. "I'm going to grab another one."
"Wait," Merry called out, stopping him in his tracks. "D-ranks are not permitted to accept bounties in the evening. The casualty rate for night hunts is too high for beginners. You can come back tomorrow morning."
The adrenaline of the day instantly faded, leaving only deep disappointment and heavy exhaustion in its wake. "Okay. Goodnight, Merry."
The streets were dark and freezing. He navigated the winding yellow brick roads until the welcoming, lit windows of the inn appeared next to the florist shop.
Pushing the door open, the tiny brass bell chimed its familiar greeting.
Elizabeth stood behind the counter. She offered a bright smile, but her eyes immediately dropped to the dark blue stains splattered across Ravon's white shirt and iron guards. She didn't ask questions.
"Dinner is ready," she said gently, pointing toward the open archway of the dining room. "Go clean yourself up and come eat. We are serving roasted Razorwing meat tonight."
At the mention of meat, his stomach growled fiercely. Ravon nodded, hurrying up the stairs to wash the goblin blood from his hands.