— Damn, he’s massive.
— Yeah, Kassios confirmed. Gorthak is a monumental asshole, but he respects courage. You played it well, showing you were ready to fight despite the level gap.
— Mostly, I was monumentally terrified he’d reduce me to a bloody pulp.
— That’s courage too. Courage isn't the absence of fear. It’s acting in spite of it.
[+50 XP FOR NON-VIOLENT CONFRONTATION RESOLUTION]
[KAEL XP: 500/500]
[LEVEL 5 REACHED!]
— What? Kael asked.
[MAX HP: 10 + (5 × 24) = 130 HP]
[FULL RECOVERY: ODD LEVEL UP!]
[CURRENT HP: 130/130]
[MP: 10 + (9 × 5) + 10 = 95 MP]
[SKILL POINT: +1]
A sudden warmth flooded Kael’s body. His residual wounds from the creepers — the deep bites, the muscle lacerations — closed instantly. His fatigue vanished completely. His muscles tightened and grew firm.
— Shit, he whispered. Level 5. I’m level 5.
— Yeah. You are.
Spend your point.
— Endurance.
[ENDURANCE: 24 + 1 = 25]
[RECALCULATED MAX HP: 10 + (5 × 25) = 135 HP]
[CURRENT HP: 135/135]
— Well, Kassios said. Now that you’re Wolf Rank, you can officially register. Come on, I’ll show you. After that, I have to go; I’ve got an escort quest.
— Thanks for the help, Kassios.
— Don't mention it. If we cross paths again, we could go on a quest together. You look solid despite your shitty stats.
— Always the backhanded compliments.
— It’s my style.
They headed toward the counter. A woman in her thirties, her brown hair in a strict bun and wearing thin glasses, welcomed them with a professional smile.
— New registration?
— Yes. Kael. Level 5 Warrior. And Zik, my companion, Level 2 Rogue.
— Perfect. Identification cards?
— I don't have one.
—
— Can we do a magical verification?
— Five coppers per person.
[MONEY: 2 COPPERS]
— I only have 2 coppers.
— I’ll pay, Kassios interrupted, placing 10 coppers on the counter. Consider it an investment.
— Thanks. I’ll pay you back.
— When you can.
The woman placed two blue stones on the counter.
— Place a hand on them.
Kael and Zik obeyed. The stones lit up.
[STATUS: LEGITIMATE, NON-CRIMINAL]
[VERIFICATION: ZIK - GOBLIN - ROGUE - GOBLIN RANK - LEVEL 2]
— Perfect. Welcome to the Guild. Here are your badges.
She handed them two metallic plates:
KAEL - HUMAN - WARRIOR - WOLF RANK - MEMBER SINCE DAY 3, YEAR 247
ZIK - GOBLIN - ROGUE - GOBLIN RANK - COMPANION - MEMBER SINCE DAY 3, YEAR 247
— These badges grant access to the facilities. Dormitories on the third floor, armory in the basement, training hall at the back, and the quest board. Quests are categorized by color:
- WHITE:
- GREEN:
- BLUE:
- YELLOW:
- ORANGE:
- RED:
- BLACK:
— You are Wolf Rank, so White, Green, and Blue are accessible.
— And the quest types? Zik asked.
— Six categories: Extermination, Escort, Collection, Investigation, Delivery, and Emergency. Emergencies pay double but are time-limited.
— Can we refuse?
— Always. But three abandonments equal expulsion.
— Understood.
Kassios waved goodbye.
— Well, I’ve gotta go. Good luck.
— Thanks again.
He left. Kael and Zik looked at the quest board.
[WHITE QUEST]: RATS IN MARTHOS'S CELLAR — 15 coppers - Trivial
[GREEN QUEST]: ESCORT TO SOUTH-BOROUGH — 30 coppers - 2 days
[BLUE QUEST]: WEST FOREST WOLVES
— Which one do we take? Zik asked.
— None for now. First, we get geared up.
— You’re thinking about gearing me up too?
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
— You’re my companion. We survive together.
—
— Let’s go.
They found the forge easily.
MARTHOS - BLACKSMITH AND ARMORER
Intense heat. A massive man hammering metal.
[MARTHOS - BLACKSMITH - LEVEL 6]
— One minute!
He finished, plunged the blade into water.
— We’re looking for gear.
—
— I have some creeper pelts and rat parts. Do you buy?
Marthos examined them.
— Creeper pelts, 3 coppers each. Rat parts, 5 coppers for the lot. Total: 11 coppers.
[MONEY: 2 → 13 COPPERS]
— And for clothes?
— 5 coppers for two outfits.
[MONEY: 13 → 8 COPPERS]
They changed. Better.
— A knife for Zik?
— 10 coppers minimum.
— We’ll be back.
—
— Do you know a weapon master?
— Master Valdris.
Third floor of the Guild. Under-the-table techniques. Expensive but effective. Good luck; he’s insufferable as a teacher.
— Thanks.
Back at the Guild. Third floor. Dark corridor.
Door: MASTER VALDRIS.
They knocked.
— Enter.
A room cluttered with weapons. A scarred old man behind a desk.
[MASTER VALDRIS - FORMER DUELIST - LEVEL ???]
— New?
— Yeah. Kassios sent us.
— Good lad. What are you looking for?
— Rapier techniques.
—
Kael slowly unwrapped the worn rags. The dull rapier appeared bit by bit. He placed it delicately on Valdris’s desk.
The old man froze instantly. His face turned white as a sheet. His hands began to tremble violently. His eyes widened.
— No... he whispered in a choked voice. No, it’s... it’s not possible...
He stood up abruptly, so violently that his chair flipped backward with a crash. He stumbled, catching himself on the desk.
— Master? Kael asked, worried. Are you okay?
Valdris didn't answer. He stared at the rapier as if it were a ghost. His lips trembled. His hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white.
— I... I thought... it had disappeared...
He closed his eyes, breathing deeply several times. When he reopened them, they were moist.
— Where... where did you find this?
— A skeleton in the hills. Covered in moss and ivy.
Valdris slumped back into his chair, as if his legs could no longer support him.
— So he really is dead... The legend died alone...
He remained silent for a long time, staring at the rapier without daring to touch it. Then, slowly, with almost religious reverence, he reached out a trembling hand. But he stopped before touching it.
— May I... may I take it? he asked in a broken voice.
— Of course, said Kael, surprised by such deference.
Valdris grasped the rapier with infinite delicacy, as if it were made of glass. His hands were still shaking. He read the inscription on the blade.
— Sir Black-Forest... he whispered. Protector of the Duke of Hard-Winds and of gentle ladies whose honor has been questioned...
He touched a mark engraved near the pommeau. His fingers caressed the dull metal with tenderness. Then, slowly, he pulled up his shirt. A massive scar crossed his left flank, from the ribcage down to the hip.
— This blade... this magnificent blade... it’s what did this to me. Forty-two years ago. I was nineteen. Young, stupid, arrogant beyond reason. I attacked old Black-Forest in an alleyway in Low-Ports on a winter night. I wanted to make a name for myself by killing the legend.
He laughed without humor, a bitter and painful sound.
— He dismantled me in less than thirty seconds. This rapier perforated my liver, broke two ribs, and lacerated my internal organs. It missed my heart by three centimeters. Three centimeters between life and death. He let me live out of pity. He even paid for a healer. And he told me: "Learn your craft properly, boy. Or die next time. I won't always be so magnanimous."
He stood up slowly, holding the rapier with both hands like a sacred treasure. Then, with a fluidity that contrasted with his age, he took a duelist's stance. He performed a three-phase pass. A complex, circular, precise movement. The blade sliced through the air. In silence.
Valdris stopped and lowered the rapier.
— It no longer sings, he whispered sadly. This blade sang when Black-Forest wielded it. A crystalline, unique sound. Like a glass bell. But it is silent now.
He returned the weapon to Kael with reverence.
— Only its true owner can make it sing again. Perhaps you, one day. If you work hard enough. If you honor it as it deserves to be honored.
He sat back down slowly.
— Do you have the left-hand dagger?
— What dagger?
— The parrying dagger. Black-Forest always fought with this rapier in his right hand and a special long dagger in his left. A masterpiece of martial craftsmanship. It was worth as much as the rapier. Without it, you only have half of the complete style.
— No. Just the rapier.
— Then it is somewhere out there, maybe in those hills. That will be a quest for later, when you are stronger. Find it. You will be twice as effective with both.
— I’ll look for it.
Valdris straightened up, gradually regaining his professional composure.
— Show me what you can do.
Kael performed a few basic, clumsy flourishes. Valdris winced.
— You are a walking catastrophe. But you have raw potential under all that... incompetence. I will teach you. Normally, I charge 15 coppers per technique. For you... free for now. A gift. In exchange, you will pay me triple later. 135 coppers total.
— Why would you do that?
— Because this weapon deserves to be used correctly, not swung like a stick by a beginner who knows nothing. And... because you carry the legacy of the man who spared me when he could have killed me. It’s a debt I can finally pay, even posthumously.
— Deal. Thank you, Master.
Valdris then noticed the mail under Kael’s tunic.
— By all the gods... you have the mail too?
— Yes.
— Dormant Quicksilver. Good heavens, boy. You’ve found the near-complete equipment of a legendary master. The treasure of a lifetime.
He shook his head with admiration mixed with dread.
— Keep this an absolute secret. Do not show it to anyone else. There are people — even respectable adventurers — who would kill for a tenth of what you are wearing. The rapier alone is worth five hundred gold pieces. Maybe a thousand.
— I know. I keep it hidden.
— Wise. Very wise.
He stood up and fetched something from a chest.
— Here. A proper scabbard. Black, sober, without ornament. And a cloth cover to hide it completely when you travel.
He handed the items to Kael.
[QUALITY SCABBARD RECEIVED]
[PROTECTIVE COVER RECEIVED]
— Thank you, Master.
Valdris went back to the chest, rummaged around, and brought out a training blade
— And here is a rudimentary left-hand weapon. It’s not Black-Forest's parrying dagger, far from it. But it’s better than that rusty short sword you’re carrying. It’ll let you get used to dual-wielding.
[TRAINING MAIN-GAUCHE RECEIVED]
— That’s... that’s generous.
— It’s pragmatic. Now, listen to me carefully. Before I teach you anything, I’m going to give you a crucial piece of advice.
He took another training sword from the wall. Massive. Heavy.
— This sword weighs three times the weight of your rapier. I want you to train with this. Exclusively. During all your daily practice.
— Why?
— Because your Quicksilver rapier is so perfectly balanced that it will mask all your technical errors. You will never progress if you train with it. On the other hand, if you master this heavy training sword, then when you pick up your rapier again...
He smiled slightly.
— You will understand just how exceptional that blade is. The last half-hour of every training session, and only the last half-hour, you may use your real rapier. To feel the difference. To appreciate the miracle you hold in your hands.
— I understand.
— Good. Now, before the sword techniques, I must teach you the absolute foundation. The Concentration Stance
He moved into position with a fluidity that betrayed decades of practice.
— Forty percent of the weight on the front foot. Sixty on the back. Front foot points toward the enemy. Back foot at exactly forty-five degrees for lateral mobility. Torso leaning twenty degrees back. Rapier forward, left hand as well.
He held the position, perfectly still like a statue.
— In this perfectly maintained posture, your mind enters absolute concentration. Time seems to slow down. Enemy movements become predictable. And above all — all your mana costs are halved when you master it perfectly.
— That’s a huge advantage.
— But extremely difficult. Maintaining this in real combat takes months. Years for some. Some professional duelists never achieve it despite a lifetime of practice. It is the secret of masters. The difference between a good duelist and a legend.