The guild hall bustled with activity, a cacophony of laughter, boastful declarations, and the occasional clash of metal. Amid this lively chaos, the Ethan stood alone, his determination solidified by the dismissive taunts of the other players. No one was going to help him, but that was fine. He’d do it himself. The Forest of Whispers quest was said to be brutal, especially for a healer. Without a party, it bordered on impossible—but the Ethan wasn’t one to back down.

As he turned on his heel and left the hall, the snickers and jeers followed him, like gnats buzzing around his resolve.

“Watch him fail and come crawling back,” one of the players sneered.

“Bet he won’t last ten minutes in there,” another chimed in, eliciting laughter.

The Ethan didn’t spare them a glance, but their words stung more than he cared to admit. Clenching his fists, he pushed open the heavy wooden door and strode into the open world of Rebirth Online, his mind set on the Forest of Whispers.

In the corner of the guild hall, a peculiar group lounged in a makeshift circle, their demeanor casual yet charged with a mischievous energy. They were a ragtag band, bound more by their love of causing trouble than by any real camaraderie. Their leader, Esmo, sat cross-legged on a chair that was clearly too big for his diminutive frame, looking more like a doll perched on a throne than a player.

Esmo's cherubic face and sparkling silver hair belied his infamous reputation. With wide, innocent-looking eyes and a voice that could charm even the most seasoned adventurer, Esmo was a master manipulator. His small stature and delicate features often disarmed potential enemies, but those who underestimated him quickly learned the folly of their assumptions.

The elf leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, as he watched the Ethan leave the guild hall. “A healer, huh?” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “How quaint.”

One of his lackeys, a burly rogue with a scar running across his cheek, grinned. “Think he’ll actually try the quest?”

Esmo chuckled softly, the sound unnervingly pleasant. “Oh, he’ll try. But he’ll fail. They always do.”

The rogue laughed, elbowing the archer next to him. “It’s been a while since we had some fun. Should we give the newbie a proper welcome?”

The archer smirked, twirling an arrow between his fingers. “He’s asking for it. Who picks a healer, anyway? It’s like he’s begging to be bullied.”

Esmo didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head, watching the door through which the Ethan had disappeared. A thoughtful smile played on his lips, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Let’s see how far he gets,” Esmo finally said, sliding down from his chair with a feline grace. “If he makes it to the forest, we’ll... assist him.”

The group erupted in laughter, their excitement palpable. To them, this wasn’t just a game—it was a playground where they could assert their dominance and entertain themselves at the expense of others.

Esmo’s notoriety wasn’t just limited to the guild hall. Across Rebirth Online, his name carried a certain infamy. Despite his childlike appearance and whimsical demeanor, he was a seasoned player who had mastered the art of manipulation. His small stature and soft voice made him seem harmless, but he had a razor-sharp wit and an uncanny ability to exploit the weaknesses of others.

His crew, a mix of opportunists and sycophants, were drawn to his charisma. They reveled in the chaos he created, taking pleasure in watching others squirm under his gaze. Together, they had built a reputation as a band of troublemakers who thrived on making life difficult for less experienced players.

But for Esmo, it wasn’t just about causing trouble. There was a method to his madness, a cold calculation beneath the surface. He enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of outsmarting his prey. And now, he had a new target—the healer who dared to think he could succeed where so many others had failed.

Esmo’s followers hung on his every word as he laid out their plan. “We’ll let him tire himself out,” he said, pacing back and forth like a general strategizing for battle. “The Forest of Whispers is no joke, especially for a newbie. He’ll either give up or make a mistake. And when he does...”

The rogue grinned. “We swoop in and make his life miserable.”

“Exactly,” Esmo said, his smile widening. “But remember, subtlety is key. We don’t want to scare him off too soon. Let him think he has a chance.”

The group nodded, their enthusiasm barely contained. For them, this wasn’t just a quest—it was a game within a game, one that promised entertainment and the chance to flex their power.

As they prepared to leave, Esmo glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “This one might be more interesting than the others,” he murmured to himself.

From a shadowed corner of the guild hall, a pair of keen eyes tracked Esmo and his crew as they exited. ChronoKnight, the silent swordsman, had been watching the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and disapproval.

He had seen Esmo’s antics before, had watched him toy with inexperienced players like a cat with a mouse. But something about this particular situation didn’t sit right with him. The healer didn’t seem like the typical newbie—there was a quiet determination in his eyes, a spark of resilience that ChronoKnight found intriguing.

As Esmo and his crew disappeared into the night, ChronoKnight pushed off the pillar he’d been leaning against and followed them at a distance. His steel boots echoed softly against the stone floor, a rhythmic counterpoint to the chaos of the guild hall.

“Let’s see what you’re up to, Esmo,” he muttered under his breath.

Outside the guild hall, the streets were bathed in the soft glow of lanterns, their light casting long shadows that danced across the cobblestones. Esmo and his crew moved with purpose, their laughter echoing in the quiet night.

ChronoKnight followed, his dark armor blending into the shadows. He kept his distance, careful not to reveal his presence. This wasn’t the first time he’d trailed Esmo, but something told him this time would be different.

The healer was heading straight for the Forest of Whispers, oblivious to the danger lurking behind him. ChronoKnight couldn’t decide whether the rookie was brave or foolish—or perhaps a bit of both.

As they approached the edge of the forest, ChronoKnight tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade. If things went south, he would be ready. For now, he would watch and wait.

______

The Forest of Whispers stretched before the Ethan like an endless sea of towering trees, their gnarled branches intertwined to form a canopy that blocked out most of the light. The air was damp and carried the faint scent of moss and earth, making the environment feel alive and ancient. A faint mist hung low to the ground, swirling around his boots as he stepped cautiously onto the overgrown path.

Ethan adjusted his equipment, double-checking his inventory and stats. This wasn’t the kind of setting that one could take lightly; even with his experience in gaming, he knew that every step here could be his last if he wasn’t careful. The eerie silence of the forest was occasionally broken by distant sounds—an animal cry, the rustling of leaves, or the snap of a branch.

“This place is supposed to be beginner-level?” Ethan muttered under his breath, scanning his surroundings. “Feels more like a horror game setting than a training ground for new players.”

Despite his words, there was a thrill in the challenge that made his heart race. The game was living up to its reputation, and he couldn’t deny the excitement coursing through him.

The Forest of Whispers was designed to test more than combat skills; it was a gauntlet of patience and ingenuity. Ethan ’s first challenge came in the form of a group of low-level creatures called Mist Wisps. They were semi-transparent orbs of light that floated erratically, zipping around unpredictably. The quest required him to gather their essence, which only dropped if he managed to hit them while they were stationary—a task easier said than done.

Stolen novel; please report.

Armed with his starter staff and a handful of weak healing spells, Ethan began his hunt. The Mist Wisps darted around him, their laughter-like sounds taunting him as he tried to time his attacks.

“Stay still for one second,” he grumbled, swiping at the air. Each swing of his staff missed by a hair, the Wisps dodging with an almost mocking ease.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. This wasn’t a DPS quest where he could brute force his way through. As a healer-in-training, he needed to think differently, to approach the task with strategy rather than aggression.

Focusing on his surroundings, Ethan noticed a pattern in the Wisps’ movements. They seemed to hover near clusters of flowers before darting away. Using this observation, he positioned himself near one such cluster, waiting for the moment a Wisp would stop.

It took longer than he expected, but his patience paid off. As a Wisp lingered near the flowers, Ethan swung his staff with precision, the tip striking the creature and causing it to shatter into tiny fragments of light. A notification popped up, confirming the drop of Wisp Essence.

“Finally,” he sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Unbeknownst to Ethan , he wasn’t alone in the forest. Hidden in the shadows, Esmo and his crew observed him with predatory grins.

“Look at him,” one of the lackeys whispered, stifling a laugh. “He’s struggling to catch beginner mobs.”

Esmo leaned against a tree, his arms crossed and an amused smirk on his face. “He’s got persistence, I’ll give him that. But persistence isn’t enough to survive here.”

The rogue in their group nudged Esmo. “Want to mess with him now?”

“Not yet,” Esmo replied, his tone almost bored. “Let’s see how far he gets first. There’s no fun in breaking someone who’s already struggling.”

From a different part of the forest, ChronoKnight kept a close eye on the situation. He had trailed Esmo’s group all the way from the guild hall, and he wasn’t about to let them corner the healer without interference.

ChronoKnight watched as Ethan fought his way through the Wisps, noting the player’s growing confidence with each successful strike. He had to admit, the kid had potential.

“Let’s see how you handle the next challenge,” ChronoKnight murmured, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Having gathered the required amount of Wisp Essence, Ethan moved further into the forest, where the challenges became progressively harder. The mist grew thicker, obscuring his vision, and the sound of rustling leaves became more frequent, as if something—or someone—was following him.

The next stage of the quest required him to collect medicinal herbs guarded by Venomous Creepers, vine-like creatures that lashed out at anything that came near. Unlike the Mist Wisps, these enemies were more aggressive, their attacks capable of poisoning him if he wasn’t careful.

Ethan approached the first herb cautiously, his eyes scanning the ground for any signs of movement. A faint rustling to his left made him freeze, his grip tightening on his staff. The Creeper struck without warning, its vine snapping toward him like a whip.

He dodged, barely avoiding the attack, and countered with a swift strike to the vine. The Creeper recoiled, but it wasn’t down yet. Switching tactics, Ethan cast his weakest healing spell—not on himself, but on the vine.

The effect was immediate. The healing spell caused the Creeper to writhe in confusion, as if it didn’t know how to react to the restorative energy. Taking advantage of its hesitation, Ethan struck again, this time severing the vine and neutralizing the threat.

“Looks like even healing can be a weapon,” he muttered with a smirk, collecting the herb.

As Ethan progressed deeper into the forest, the presence of Esmo’s group became more apparent. He couldn’t see them, but he felt their eyes on him, an unsettling sensation that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He tried to shake off the feeling, focusing on the quest, but it wasn’t easy. The forest’s oppressive atmosphere and the knowledge that he was being watched weighed heavily on him.

“Just a game,” he reminded himself, though the words felt hollow.

From their hiding spot, Esmo’s group prepared to make their move. The healer had proven to be more resourceful than they’d expected, but that only made the idea of crushing him more appealing.

“Time to introduce ourselves,” Esmo said with a grin, signaling his crew to move out.

From his vantage point, ChronoKnight tensed. The time for observation was over. It was time to act.

The eerie silence of the Forest of Whispers was broken by the sound of slow clapping. Ethan turned sharply, gripping his staff tightly as a figure emerged from the mist. It was Esmo, the small elf boy who looked deceptively innocent but carried a sharpness in his gaze that belied his appearance. He strolled into view with an easy confidence, his hands casually behind his back. Behind him, his crew emerged, forming a loose semi-circle around Ethan.

Ethan’s grip tightened, his instincts screaming at him to be wary. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

Esmo grinned, his youthful features making him seem approachable despite the faint menace in his demeanor. “Relax, newbie. I’m not here to hurt you. In fact, I’m here to offer you a deal.”

Ethan didn’t relax. “What kind of deal?”

Esmo stepped closer, his crew staying behind but watching intently. “I’ve been watching you. Your method of fighting—the way you healed the Creepers instead of just hacking away at them—it’s impressive. Ingenious, even. Most beginners wouldn’t have thought of that. You’ve got potential.”

Ethan frowned. He didn’t trust compliments from someone who had been tailing him through the forest. “Get to the point.”

Esmo chuckled, unfazed by Ethan’s sharp tone. “Alright, straight to business. I’m impressed by your ambition to become a healer. It’s a thankless job, but the way you’ve been handling yourself shows you’ve got the grit for it. I want to help you finish this quest and see you succeed. In return, I’d like you to join my party afterward. With your skills and my leadership, we could go far.”

The offer hung in the air, tempting in its simplicity. Ethan, however, wasn’t swayed. Something about Esmo’s demeanor set off alarm bells in his mind. The elf was too smooth, too calculated.

Before Ethan could respond, another voice cut through the mist.

“Don’t listen to him,” a deep, authoritative voice said.

From the shadows stepped ChronoKnight, his imposing figure towering over both Ethan and Esmo. His gleaming sword was drawn, and his eyes were locked on the elf with a look of cold disdain.

Esmo’s grin faltered, replaced by an annoyed scowl. “You just can’t mind your own business, can you, ChronoKnight?”

ChronoKnight ignored him, addressing Ethan instead. “He’s trying to manipulate you. Esmo isn’t here to help; he’s here to use you. The moment you’re no longer useful, he’ll drop you—or worse.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow at the swordsman’s sudden appearance but didn’t question his warning. He had already sensed something off about Esmo’s offer, and this only confirmed his suspicions.

“I figured as much,” Ethan said calmly, his tone steady despite the tension in the air. “I was about to decline.”

Esmo’s expression darkened, his pride clearly wounded. “Excuse me?” he said, his voice low and venomous. “You’re turning me down?”

Ethan nodded. “Thanks for the offer, but I prefer to work alone.”

Esmo’s jaw tightened, his earlier charm giving way to a simmering anger. He turned to his crew, motioning for them to close in. “Looks like we’ve got a couple of heroes here. Let’s teach them a lesson.”

The gang advanced, weapons drawn, their movements coordinated despite their mismatched appearances. Esmo stayed back, his smirk returning as he watched his lackeys move in for the attack.

ChronoKnight stepped in front of Ethan, his sword raised. “Stay behind me. I’ll handle this.”

Ethan bristled at the idea of being protected but knew better than to let his pride get in the way. He positioned himself a few steps behind ChronoKnight, readying his staff.

The first attacker lunged at ChronoKnight, a dagger flashing in the dim light. The swordsman parried effortlessly, his blade moving with precision as he disarmed the rogue and sent him sprawling to the ground. Another came at him from the side, but ChronoKnight spun, his sword cutting through the air and forcing the second attacker to retreat.

Ethan didn’t stand idle. When one of the attackers broke off and charged at him, he cast a quick healing spell—not on himself, but on the ground beneath his attacker’s feet. The sudden glow startled the man, causing him to stumble, and Ethan followed up with a sharp strike from his staff.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Esmo snarled, his playful demeanor gone. He stepped forward, drawing a pair of short blades. “Let me show you what happens to people who disrespect me.”

ChronoKnight met Esmo’s charge, their weapons clashing with a resounding clang. The elf was fast, darting around the swordsman with agility that matched his small stature, but ChronoKnight’s skill and experience kept him from being overwhelmed.

Meanwhile, Ethan faced off against two of Esmo’s lackeys. They moved in tandem, trying to flank him, but Ethan’s quick thinking and adaptability kept them at bay. He used his healing spells not just for recovery but to create distractions and openings, exploiting the unfamiliarity of his unconventional tactics.

Despite the chaos, Ethan couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of exhilaration. This was nothing like the carefully controlled e-sports matches he was used to. Here, there were no rules, no structured strategies—just raw survival and quick thinking.

The fight dragged on, but it was clear that Esmo and his crew were losing. ChronoKnight’s relentless skill and Ethan’s unpredictable tactics proved too much for them. One by one, the gang fell back, retreating into the shadows of the forest.

Esmo was the last to retreat, his face twisted with frustration. “This isn’t over,” he spat before disappearing into the mist.

Ethan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, lowering his staff. “That was... intense.”

ChronoKnight sheathed his sword, giving Ethan a nod of approval. “You held your own. Not bad for a healer.”

Ethan managed a small smile. “Thanks for the save. I owe you one.”

The swordsman shook his head. “Just watch your back. Esmo doesn’t let things go easily.”

With that, ChronoKnight turned and walked away, leaving Ethan alone in the forest once more. As the silence returned, Ethan took a moment to steady himself before continuing his quest. The fight had been a reminder of the unpredictability of this new world—but also of its potential for growth and excitement.