Scene 1 – The First Hunt
A red-haired boy sprinted through the dense woods, his wooden staff clutched tightly in his hands. The crimson gem at its tip pulsed with energy as he chased a goblin through the undergrowth.
“Pierce through the world—Mana Beam!” he shouted.
A blinding beam of mana erupted from his staff, streaking toward the goblin. But the creature was fast—it ducked behind a tree just in time, vanishing into the forest’s depths.
"Argh! I won’t let you escape this time!" the boy growled, pushing himself forward.
He ran at full speed, branches whipping against his arms, but soon lost sight of his target.
He slowed his pace, heart pounding. "Hiding from me, huh? Clever creature. But that won’t work against me."
He raised his staff. “Expose all before me—Detect!”
A faint glow spread through the air, expanding in all directions.My detection magic only works within 20 meters… He better still be here.
A flicker of mana pulsed on top of a tree.
"There you are," he muttered, raising his staff again.
“Pierce through the world—Mana Beam!”
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The air shimmered as another beam of pure energy shot forward, slipping between branches like a spear of light. A sharp, pained screech rang out. The goblin staggered from behind the tree, looking down in horror at the hole burned clean through its chest.
Its yellow eyes widened in shock. A moment later, it collapsed from the tree with a heavy thud.
The boy stood over the goblin’s corpse, panting. His whole body trembled—not with fear, but with something else.
“I… I actually did it,” he whispered.
A surge of excitement bubbled up inside him. He grabbed the goblin’s dagger and clutched it tightly. Then, unable to hold back, he fell back to the ground exhausted and shouted to the sky:
“FINALLY! I DID IT! I KILLED A GOBLIN!”
His chest rose and fell with deep breaths as the thrill of victory settled in. He had done it—after a whole month of failing, he had finally hunted his first true monster.
After resting , he sighed in satisfaction and turned for home.
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Scene 2 – Returning to Tickrow
A month had passed since he first set out, and now, he was finally walking through the muddy roads of Tickrow once more. A surge of joy filled him—after so long, he was finally home. The thought of seeing Gramps again made his steps lighter.
The town sat on the border of Ashenwild Forest, one of the largest forest in the kingdom of Aetherhold located to the east of town . The town was enclosed with walls on all sides as, it was a place where even weak monsters were a threat due to the lack of guards and adventurers. It was a poor, rain-drenched settlement, its history shrouded in legend.
Tickrow’s entrance was marked by a massive, dark grey gate , its surface etched with strange symbols. According to town legend, it had been built by an ancient mage to ward off beasts. But since there were no strong monsters nearby, many believed it was just an old, ordinary gate.
The streets were narrow and cramped, with wooden shops lining both sides, their cloth-covered roofs sagging under the constant drizzle. The scent of wet soil and burning wood filled the air.
As he walked through the familiar paths, the townspeople greeted him warmly. Some handed him small fruits, their smiles tinged with concern.
"Did they think I wasn’t coming back? he wondered, gripping his staff a little tighter."
Eventually, he reached his destination.
A small, wooden clock shop stood near the town’s corner, isolated with no other open shops or houses nearby. Its wooden walls were worn and faded, the sign above the door nearly unreadable from years of rain.
He stopped. Something was wrong.
Gramps never closes his shop... even when he's sick. Something isn’t right.
His chest tightened as he ran toward the door.
"Gramps! Gramps! Where are you?!"
Silence.
He hurried inside, the scent of old wood and metal filling his lungs. He searched the entire house before stepping into the adjoining shop. It was just as he remembered—a traditional Japanese-style workshop, its wooden shelves filled with clocks of various sizes. A single cushion lay by the low wooden table, where his grandfather usually worked...
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