A shrill shriek ripped through the night sky, jolting Andy from his sleep.

Andy Alfred, his full name, was seventeen years old.

Straightforward in nature, he was a light sleeper.

The banshee's piercing cry, though distant, was enough to rouse most from their slumber.

These harpies were a public menace.

Living in Rodwall, the poorest town in the kingdom, offered no solutions to the banshee problem.

No archers or battle mages resided nearby, capable of bringing the pests down.

Sometimes, Andy wished the Griffin Riders from the city would fly by and clear them out.

Worst of all, the creatures hunted in packs, their flight path to and from their hunting groun

ds directly over Rodwall, and at night.

No wonder property values were so low.

Andy dreamed of becoming a master swordsman, of living a life of grand adventure.

The moon hung high, the sun yet to rise.

He sat up, muttering curses at his lost sleep.

Deciding to wash up and eat something, he grabbed a stale piece of bread, taking a bite, and chewed on a couple of strips of dried meat.

He began cleaning his small cottage.

It was a ritual he’d set for himself, stubbornly cleaning every inch of the small space before reporting for duty at the barracks.

He wiped down the worn nightstand, straightened his bed.

He took the rug outside, beating it vigorously, sending dust and debris swirling.

The small stone path leading to the cottage received the same meticulous treatment, loose stones swept aside.

Then, wetting another rag at the nearby well, he crouched, scrubbing the floor with fierce determination, not missing a single corner.

Only when satisfied did he slowly rise, a small sense of accomplishment washing over him.

[Cleaning Skill 23 → Cleaning Skill 24]

Everyone in Ritania had a status screen like this projected in their minds.

With persistent effort, skills would level up as proficiency increased.

Experiences from his past life had taught Andy the value of hard work.

It had shaped his stubborn, meticulous nature.

It had been two weeks since his last skill increase.

The other militiamen mocked him for being a novice cleaner, but at this rate, he'd break through level 30 and earn the title of Cleaning Apprentice by the end of the year.

Not that Andy ever considered joining a noble house as a servant.

Unlike most of the militiamen in town, Andy was an orphan, in this life as well.

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Until he turned fourteen, the age when one was considered able to work and support oneself, he had been a ward of the Silver Sands Crying Raccoon Orphanage.

The cottage in Rodwall was the only place he could afford before he came of age, a combined effort with his orphanage guardians.

He had been a troublesome child, getting into fights, misbehaving, and it had gone on for quite some time.

This was the only place that would take him in, among many.

So, even though Andy's annual salary was decent now, a whole gold coin! Enough to allow him to choose better living conditions, he chose to stay in the cottage out of sentimentality.

Besides, Andy never liked extravagant decorations.

He sighed, then summoned his status screen in his mind.

Name: Andy Alfred

Age: 17

Title 1: Swordsman Apprentice

Skills:

Swordsmanship 34 (Apprentice)

Cleaning 24 (Novice)

Shield Mastery 23 (Novice)

Physical Fitness 21 (Novice)

Unarmed Combat 19 (Novice)

Labor 17 (Novice)

Club Mastery 15 (Novice)

Dash 14 (Novice)

Combat Mastery 11 (Novice)

Maintenance 8 (Novice)

Repair 7 (Novice)

Stealth 6 (Novice)

Intimidation 6 (Novice)

Deception 4 (Novice)

Andy felt that, considering his upbringing, this wasn't bad, even good.

In this world, below level 30 was Novice, breaking through 30 became Apprentice.

He was, in fact, more diligent and accomplished than the other children from the orphanage.

At seventeen, his Swordsmanship was already at 34.

Enough to qualify for a common warrior academy, if only he had the means.

He had also been diligently training, bringing his Physical Fitness to 21.

It was because of this that the Sabowalla militia had noticed Andy.

After his impressive performance in the entrance exam a year ago, they readily recruited him.

Serving in the militia, Andy hoped to at least become a Swordsmanship Adept in his lifetime.

That meant reaching 50 in Swordsmanship.

Having worked various manual labor jobs after coming of age, Andy was more inclined towards combat-oriented work.

It was something he was quite good at.

Though, if life left him no other choice, he could also make a living with his Labor skill.

Andy had high aspirations; his love for combat was extreme, to the point where he couldn't engage in other things for long.

Dismissing the status screen from his mind, he decided to continue with his daily routine.

Andy ran laps around the nearby blocks.

An hour passed, and seeing the sun begin to rise, he ended his training.

He stopped in front of the construction site at 3 Silver Sands Street.

Old Man Kunt was sitting in the driver's seat of his mule cart, loaded with stacks of lumber.

Andy noticed the wood was a different color and type than yesterday's.

With his record at fourteen, it was hard for someone like him to find work.

Old Man Kunt and his construction crew were an exception.

Andy had been working on and off for the old man until he took the town militia exam last year.

"Morning, old man… Did they cheat you on the lumber quality again today?" Andy asked as he began moving the thick planks of wood, four at a time, to the empty pallets on the ground.

He volunteered to help this man every morning; it had become part of his self-training.

"Old man so early in the morning? Good morning, you pesky brat.

Just a little disagreement with the supplier.

Don't worry, the house will still get built," Old Man Kunt replied, but the look on his face clearly betrayed the knowledge that this batch of lumber was subpar.

Built and built well were two different things, Andy thought to himself.

Rodwall was a place where businesses and construction projects often went awry, and Andy knew this all too well.

There was a reason it was the poorest town in the kingdom.

"I see…" Andy replied, as he struggled to place the lumber onto the pallets.

Two thick planks under each arm, four in total, was the most efficient way he could think of to carry them.

Compared to a year ago, when he first started helping Old Man Kunt, he had indeed made great progress.

Back then, his Physical Fitness was 18, and he could only carry two planks at most.

Now, his Physical Fitness had reached 21.

He could even successfully lift the entire lumber-laden cart over his head, albeit only for a short while.

Perhaps, in his lifetime, he could truly raise his Physical Fitness to 50, becoming an Adept.

Andy grunted with effort, muscles straining, as he placed the last stack of lumber steadily onto the pallet.

He breathed slightly heavily, sweat trickling down his face.

Then, he straightened up, wiped his sweat, and chatted casually with Old Kunt.

Before he knew it, morning had arrived.

The distinct dawn bells of Sabowalla County echoed, drifting through every corner of Rodwall.

Sabowalla County only had that one bell tower, the sound originating from Kilbron, where the tower was located.

Miraculously, the bells didn't sound any louder in Kilbron, nor quieter in Rodwall, hours away.

Such was the magic of, well, magic.

Andy stopped his thoughts and turned to walk back towards his cottage. He was going to wash up properly after his workout.

His shift at the barracks started an hour after the bells.

He saw a night patrol returning to the barracks located at the edge of Rodwall.