"Old Randolph, can you tell me how to get out of the forest?"

To tell the truth, Randolph expected Vincent to ask him this question, but what stopped him from answering was the answer itself.

"You want to get out of the forest, I said, huh?"

"Yes, is there a way?"

"I fear there is none, little one."

Vincent's eyes widened slightly; he couldn't believe what his ears had just heard. Will he stay here for the rest of his life? This question lingered in his mind for a few minutes without him saying anything. The only reason Finn didn't panic is because he's really used to shit, didn't have a day in the slums without something threatening his life.

Randolph said nothing; he knew it was hard to believe something like this, so he left it to himself to think and went to continue his work in the next room.

After a while, Vincent woke up from his deep thoughts and did not see the old Randolph anywhere in sight. He stood up from the straw bed and began to walk around the house. He hadn't had the time to see the cottage before because he was busy with his injury, but now he did. The cottage was indeed small, just as Finn had expected. There was only a shabby straw bed and a small fireplace on the wall in front of it, along with some old, worn-out furniture that made it seem like an abandoned house. Beyond that was the small kitchen, which was certainly nothing like modern kitchens. It was primitive and made of wood, with a small table and two chairs, another table for chopping vegetables or fruits, a fire stove, and some pots. Well, Finn did not expect that big thing from the hut of an old man. He went to the other room, tilted his head through the door opening, and saw Randolph standing in front of a large table filled with strange materials. There were some metals, animal hides, and some other things.

Randolph was melting a piece of iron and pouring the molten metal into the center of a yellow leather that resembled lion skin, but with some differences. Then he placed a green herb on top and closed the leather around everything to form a ball. After that, he took a brush and painted strange symbols on the leather that Finn had never seen before.

Vincent couldn't suppress his curiosity any longer; his curiosity and impulsiveness always got him into trouble.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"What are you doing?"

Randolph was surprised as he held the leather ball; it was about to fall, but he caught it. The ball started to move, emitting a faint red light as if it were about to explode. And for the surprise, this is what happened. The ball exploded, releasing a little bit of black smoke. There were no damages, only Randolph's face was covered in black ash from the explosion.

Randolph turned his head and struck Finn's head hard.

"Oh you fool, make a sound as you come, see what has happened!."

Randolph shouted a little at Vincent; what he was doing wasn't really a big deal, and he could do ten like it, but he was still angry.

After Vincent was hit. Poetry in anger as well; he didn't like being hit and called a fool, and the blow was painful too. Vincent held his head.

"Hey, you cursed old man, I didn't do anything, why are you hitting me!?"

"What did you call me?" "O little one, haven't you learned manners?"

Randolph's transformation from that nice grandfather to this volcano was strange even for him; there were some times when he would become strict or explosive like now, but those instances were rare.

"Shut up. And also, why do you call me 'the little one'?"

"Okay. Oh.... Wait, I don't even know your name."

Randolph and Finn were silent for a while. Vincent had been staying at Randolph's house for a day now, and he had never asked him his name. If a stranger sees someone falling to the ground while holding their stomach and laughing, they will be amused.

"Oh..." "That's true, I didn't tell you my name."

Now, when Vincent thought about it, he felt a bit foolish.

"Yes, you didn't tell me your name." Can you now?

"Before that, what were you doing, and why did you suddenly explode?"

Randolph's poetry is a bit strange. But he answered Vincent anyway.

"This thing is called the explosion rune, and it uses an external force rather than magic. Why did it explode? It's because it moved; it is designed to explode shortly after it is set in motion."

"Oh, like a ticking time bomb, huh?"

Vincent was a bit surprised; there was something similar to bombs from his world. Although the name was different and the manufacturing method was strange, the principle was the same.

"Bomb, what?" "What is this?"

Randolph had a strange look; it was the first time he had ever heard this term before. "Is this boy from another world?" This idea came to Randolph for a moment, but he quickly brushed it aside.

"Oh, nothing..." "That's right, my name is Vincent."

Randolph felt that he was trying to change the subject of the conversation; he didn't want to continue with it anyway.

Vincent saw that old Randolph's eyes widened for a few seconds; he didn't understand why. It reminded him of when the orphanage director recalled that she had put a cake in the oven. He didn't remember ever having eaten a cake from there that wasn't burnt.

"Do you want to get out of this forest, right?"

Vincent was surprised by the unexpected question; he began to have some hope that there might be a way out.

"Yes!" Do you know the way? He asked where with eagerness.

"Yes, but it takes a long time, and it can be very arduous with no way back."

There was a look of thought on Randolph's face; he knew Vincent's answer from the look in his eyes.

"I don't care, what is the way."

Certainly, I expected this answer. Randolph let out a long sigh before looking directly into Vincent's eyes.

"Do you know anything about magic?"