Sean didn’t expect to wake up early. It was barely dawn, from how the sun was just rising from beyond the horizon and he was still groggy, but awake nonetheless. Then he noticed why he’d waken up —he was on a carriage, and he’d hit his head after a rather big bump. He raised an eyebrow and sat up. There were some others on the cart along with him, mostly children and the elderly. The cart was drawn by a horse, and Fillmore sat at the front, driving it —evident from the straw hat.

His arms still hurt, broken from the impact. It’d heal soon, but it would most likely take a while. The ankle pain was gone, he noted. Stumbling to his feet on a carriage, without using his hands was difficult, and he barely managed to balance himself. Every time he flailed his hands ever so slightly, a wave of pain washed over him. He didn’t have any painkillers to help him out and grit his teeth while sucking in a bit of air to try and regain his composure. And barely managing to be quiet, he took a seat slightly behind Fillmore.

“Evacuating?” asked Sean. When he sat down, the sudden movement made his arm make him groan out. While he did have above-average pain tolerance, a broken bone wasn’t all that easy. If they weren’t bothered, yes, but if they were moved a slight bit, it made him feel almost nauseous.

“You killed one of his boys, kiddo. There’s no place for us here. Not anymore,” said Fillmore. He now knew that Sean wasn’t as strong as he’d assumed —he’d betrayed his hope, “But still, you’re some mad lad. Taking down a giant isn’t something that many can do.”

Side Quest: ‘Prove Yourself’ Completed!

You have defeated a Giant, against all odds and have proven yourself to Fillmore and the village. If you so desire, you may now ask to be trained in the Arts of Smithing by Fillmore.

Current Progress: 1 / 1 Giants Slain

Rewards: Giant Slayer (Title), Mentorship

Main Quest Progress: 30%

System Notification

You have completed 1 / 1 (Mini / Side) Quests required to be eligible for leaving the Calibration Stage. All injuries sustained during the Calibration Stage will be healed and all non-System-integrated equipment will be recovered if broken during the Calibration Stage or left behind if granted during it. Do you wish to leave?

A) Yes

B) No

So completing one side quest made it eligible for you to leave the Calibration Stage? That made a lot more sense than committing suicide to get out. Maybe going up the mountain the ordinary way would have resulted in a Side or Mini Quest that granted 15% progress, and he would have gotten the option to leave. He’d gotten it far too late.

The part about his injuries being healed was enticing. It was painful to even exist right now, and if the System would take that away, then he’d agree nine times out of ten. But the thing was, this was the remaining 1. He wanted to be strong, and if he couldn’t even defeat a few giants, then he’d never be able to protect his family. Provided, most wouldn’t even get this far, but he wanted to give it his all and try to score as high as possible. Within reason, of course.

The mentorship was for blacksmithing, as he’d assumed ever since finding out that he was a smith. That much wasn’t worth being surprised about. The title, he’d gotten right after he killed the giant, so the only real ‘reward’ was the Main Quest progress being increased. So after a moment of deliberation, Sean tapped on the ‘No’ button. He didn’t want to be whisked away just when he was starting to enjoy it, pain and injuries excluded. It was still a game to him —one that would let him prepare for the real deal, though.

“So… where exactly are we going?” asked Sean as he looked around. The entire village seemed to be moving, herd and all, on a few carts and carriages, packed up. That made Sean wonder —if they were going to move away, why bother having him fight them? Or was his victory unexpected and they had to move away as a result?

“To the next village over,” said Fillmore as he yanked on the reins of the horses and turned them slightly to the side, keeping them on the road when they started to stray. He looked solemn, contrary to the somewhat sarcastic look and tone he took, “No idea on what to do, after that. But fighting them was an absurd idea, even if you’re a hunter. It’s on me.”

“No no, I know exactly what to do now. They’re mortal, and that’s all that matters. If they can die, I’ll kill them. Count on that,” said Sean and realized he was famished. Alas, he didn’t have any food on him, or any limbs to eat with, for that matter. Moving his own arms wasn’t an option. But he assumed they’d stop sometime soon and slumped back to lie down. He uncomfortably fell on the wooden floor of the cart and the light from the sun washed over his tired body, making it feel just a tiny bit better than the cold did, “I just need to… prepare a bit.”

“Mages and their preparation. That explosion was unexpected,” said Fillmore as they came to a halt. It was morning now, and Sean assumed they’d been riding all night —that meant around five hours at the very least. That ought to be tiring. And so did the other carriages, making camp for a while and possibly about to switch drivers, “You’ll take them down if you fight them one by one. But they won’t be alone now. You can run now.”

“Funny. I just rejected the easy way out a few minutes ago,” said Sean. The System, Fillmore, Ashley, and even the situation itself seemed to shout out for him to escape this place. But he would persevere. Only then would he be able to go back home ready for whatever the world threw at him. What was more important than anything was to learn more Magic before the giants came back so he could fight them back, one by one, preferably, “I’m in it for the challenge. If it’s easy, then there’d be no point in me staying here.”

“You’re one weird boy,” said Fillmore after a dry chuckle. He felt like the grandfather he never had by now. It had only been two days, but Sean noticed himself getting attached… He got attached too easily, even despite knowing that he’d be gone in no time, “Not fearing death helps, eh?”

“Yeah. If I can keep on growing until I die, why would I back down? I have the best suicide spell in my pocket now, too,” asked Sean. Honestly, he didn’t know how much better the rewards would be if he persevered until the very end instead of quitting right now. But he hoped it’d be fine. The Flawed Explosive Mana Ball would be useful if he wanted to die and was in pain. It gave a giant a concussion and killed one, so how would a human survive if he took it on point-blank. The last one was a point-blank one aimed at the head of the giant and had probably gotten into his eyes or gotten close enough till the damage became devastating enough, “Just you wait. I’ll go and kill them all. For sure.”

“Well, time for me shift to end. My body’s not quite what it used to be,” he said and hopped off the cart’s front. Sean envied him, for being uninjured. It was a petty thought, but he did. Then again, the injury was his own. It was his own stubbornness that caused it. But he knew the injuries would go away in a day or two. That time wouldn’t be wasted.

There was little he could do now but to rest. Sean then decided to look at his Character Screen, to check his growth and how far he’d gotten. The world faded to grayscale as he focused on the screen and his thoughts.

Character Screen

Name:

Sean Morris

Class:

Calibrating…

Health Points:

310 (+11 per minute)

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Mana Points:

510 (+2.6 per minute)

Attributes

Strength: 19 (???)

Intelligence: 51

Agility: 11 (???)

Perception: 37

Durability: 31 (???)

Endurance: 32

Vitality: 110

Wisdom: 26

His stats had increased overall. A lot of it was thanks to the two titles, but much more of it was due to passive growth. Sean had noticed that the System didn’t notify him when his stats increased and that he was simply able to generally grow. He thought back on when he didn’t even have half the Intelligence he had and how he thought about Mana Management. Now he could do so much more, yet he couldn’t defeat them. This was a difficult stage indeed.

So he started to think of the options —if it had been the Serpent, and if it was a Boss Monster as powerful as Helthur, did he even have a chance? And if it had been Goblins, would he have resorted to physical violence, not even finding out about the gold mine that Magic was? And if he did, he would have gotten overconfident to lose his life after a group of goblins fought him after dodging his Mana Ball spam. He didn’t want to think of an alternative. If he could go through the Calibration all over again, he’d do everything he did up until now. This was the best option for him, fighting against intimidating opponents that couldn’t dodge his attacks to better attune himself to courage.

And he looked at his Skillbook.

Skillbook

Skill Name

Skill Rank

Skill Mastery

Research

F

47%

Computation

F

41%

Mana Ball

F

89%

Mana Ball: Push

F

65%

Condensed Mana Ball: Push

F

43%

Technical Linguist

D

83%

Revolving Mana Ball

D

3%

Revolving Mana Ball: Push

D

9%

Explosive Mana Ball: Push (Flawed)

D

0%

Very much had changed. His Skillbook, which had a measly 3 Skills now had 9. Well, all his new ones were Mana Balls… Not that he minded. Anything more complex was far beyond his current capabilities, allegedly. He had to study more. The learning curve would cure itself very soon, he hoped. Otherwise, he didn’t imagine he could fight someone that was as at least as tall as a 4 story building.

The ordinary Mana Ball was almost never used, yet it had risen exceedingly. Computation and Research had also risen. Research had an observable effect, but Computation was simply there, as a passive effect that benefitted him even if he didn’t notice that it was there. The single notification he got related to it was that it increased Spellcasting Speed, most likely by making the process of casting it become simpler, to the point that he didn’t even need to focus to create anything other than the Explosion Component for the spells.

Technical Linguist had risen as well, but remotely, hinting toward the fact that the Magical Circles were a ‘technical language’ of sorts, with a pattern. He’d noticed that already. It was just like using a pre-set library to draw a shape —something he knew very well, but was annoying nonetheless.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a slight pat on his hand. While Research let him filter out the noise, it was instantly deactivated whenever someone touched him; or felt pain, for that matter. But his hand itself was fine, only the arm was injured. A safety measure, Sean supposed. It was a good thing. Otherwise, he could come back to a nasty surprise. Sean let the Character Screen fade to nothing and came back to reality.

Sean looked to the side and noticed that it was just one of the sleeping ones that had been moved as the cart moved and bumped once again. Thankfully Sean hadn’t bumped his head into something again, but someone else had come sliding down. He uncomfortably pulled his hand from underneath the child’s leg and pulled it out, wincing all the while.

He then peeked at the front and saw a familiar back —one that he recognized as that of Ashley’s father. He was large but felt far too underwhelming now. Then again, he wasn’t walking toward him, ready to beat him black and blue this time.

“I was wrong about you,” said Samson after a while, clearly realizing that he was awake from the slight sound of the movement. How he heard that, Sean didn’t know, and didn’t care, “I didn’t think you capable of doing that.”

“What do the others feel like?” asked Sean, not even bothering to sit up. It wasn’t worth the pain or effort. But he wanted how the people received having to leave the village. For the most part, they seemed to be living in peace, barring the few women they sacrificed. Why they went along with it so willingly was mystifying, “About leaving the village.”

“It was inevitable,” said Samson, “But don’t ask me. They’re the ones that cared. I’d have dragged my girl away no sooner she’d reached the age of 17. They’re the ones that were attached to it to the point of sacrificing their children for so long.”

“If you could have moved away, why did you stay?” asked Sean, still with a poker face, “There should’ve been nothing holding you back.”

“Reluctance. Starting a new life from the bottom. That wasn’t something most of us wanted. Ashley was my turning point, and you were the same for the others —it would have happened, at some point, but not yet,” said Samson. Sean would ask for food ordinarily, but he was too proud. He hoped that his arms would be at the very least manageable for the next eight or so hours. Skipping breakfast and lunch was something he did frequently, so he was used to it, “Don’t sweat over it. Some of them may hate you, but it was for the better.”

“Awfully supportive,” said Sean with a wry grin, sarcastically. He didn’t expect the brute of all people to be like that, “So… what’s the deal with hunters? Why do you believe in them so much?”

“The hunter visited the village in the past, long before the grandfather of my grandfather was born,” started Samson, in a narrator’s voice that greatly resembled the ones that read him stories.

“Ooh, storytime. Great,” he mumbled underneath his breath, which he supposed Samson couldn’t have made out. But he most certainly would have heard that he said something, just not the specifics.

“No one knows whether he was of the land or an Outlander, but he was a great hero to our people. Back then, we were plagued by monsters, very much like now. Men that turned into beasts so savage that they recognized no friend nor foe in the moonlight. True berserkers,” said Samson and flapped the reins once, giving the horses a bit of encouragement, “Only the sharpest of blades could cut through their fur, and only hammers and axes phased them. But the injuries didn’t last long. They disappeared within moments as if they hadn’t even drawn blood. They had claws that could break through swords and strength that defied sense, as powerful as giants.”

Werewolves.

Sean knew his fables well. It was his father’s version of bedtime stories, after all. The more he thought about it, the more likely that his father’s ramblings became. How much he’d insisted that Sean become an athlete of sorts, preferably a combat sports. But he wasn’t interested in things like that. Fighting was a brutish, ancient way of going about things —it was useless in this day and age, or at least that’s what he thought. But what if all his tales were true, and there were indeed monsters lurking around every corner and in every shadow?

The answer was obvious: get stronger, strong enough so that he could live out his life without feeling threatened or afraid of death. That’s all he wanted —a simple life where he wasn’t bothered, probably in some quaint little town with Clara, working in a large company online with enough money to not make his children feel longing. Essentially he wanted to provide his child with what his parents did not give to him.

“We’d given up already, fearing for our lives. The entire region had, not even the village. The Jarls had tried to identify them, but they failed. But then he came, holding a blade of silver in one hand and a hook in the other. He rode through the entire region of Veidrheim, before it had even been called that, meeting their claws with his sword and fangs with hook. Single-handedly, he wrestled them beasts to the ground and tore their hearts out, one by one, and feasted upon them. Battered and broken, he ended the fights; yet the next day he came once again, as if he had been reborn. No one knows how long the Hunt lasted, nor how many were there, but the land was cleansed of the evil, once and for all. Then the hunter told our ancestors, before he left, that when there was game, there was a hunter. That in times of peril, a hunter would come to vanquish evil from the land, just as he did,” said Samson and finally caught his breath, as if he’d told the story within one breath. After he did so, he continued, “That’s the tale we know, passed down from generation to generation. Other lands tell of monsters to humble their children in the night, but those of Veidrheim tell of the hunter to gift bravery to the lads. And you, boy, have did just what he did so long ago. Every hunt begins with a single prey.”

“Touching story,” commented Sean. Silver… that was what the werewolves feared, he was pretty sure. In fact, most creatures of the night his father spoke of did not bode well against silver. The reason, he did not know, “I suppose I can’t let down the hopes of your people, then.”

He felt it —the expectations, prowling in the background.

It was something he would rather not feel if he could. Being praised for what he did was one thing, but being expected to do it was quite possibly the worst feeling he’d ever felt in his life. Being expected to excel in school, sports, and now a university, in which he was more or less mediocre, armed with nothing more than wishful thinking and hopes for the future and the so-called ‘genius that runs in the blood’, as his mother put it. That brought back memories he didn’t want to think about.

“You won’t. You’re the hunter,” said Samson, further driving the point home.

There was only one thing worse than the expectations of others, and that was his own expectations. He was far too proud to give up on something and expected himself of today to be greater than the him of yesterday. It wasn’t a high bar, but it worked nonetheless. And with how his life had changed, it was obvious he would have to climb ever higher each day to sate his unquenchable thirst for growth.

He didn’t answer.