The wind blew through Ron's hair as the horses continued to gallop across the dirt road. His grip on Horace's waist was tight, his heart racing with adrenaline. He couldn't help but feel embarrassed at his lack of horse-riding skills. How could he, the son of a Lord, not know how to ride a horse?
Bron and Horace exchanged confused glances as Ron nearly fell off the saddle when he first attempted to ride earlier in the day. They had never seen someone struggle so much with basic horsemanship. But with no other options, they had to improvise and let Ron ride with Horace.
As they rode, Ron couldn't help but feel a sense of shame. He was supposed to be a capable young man, able to handle any challenge thrown his way. But this simple task had proven to be too much for him and could you blame him? He was from modern Earth and there was no horsemanship when taking the Hero Awakening test.
Finally, they stopped for a break in Shroudtown. A town right before reaching Thornfield. Ron practically fell off the horse as soon as they came to a stop. He stumbled to regain his footing, feeling the eyes of Bron and Horace on him.
"Are you alright, my lord?" Bron asked, concern etched on his face.
Ron nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. "I'm fine," he reassured them.
Bron, Horace, and Ron found themselves in the local tavern. The place was dimly lit and filled with smoke, but it was the only option for a drink and a meal in this small town. The three of them took their seats, and Bron left to the counter.
As they waited, a young waitress approached their table with a forced smile. She took their orders and as she turned to leave, she hesitated for a moment before asking about the reason for their visit. "Are you here for the Longbottoms?" she inquired.The mention of the Longbottom family caught Ron's attention.
"What happened to them?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
The waitress took a deep breath and hesitated for a moment before replying. "They were found dead a few days ago, their chests burst open, and their hearts missing. It's been the talk of the town ever since."
Horace shuddered at the gruesome details. "Ey, it can’t be true," he muttered in denial. “What kind of evil bastard would do that?”
The waitress glared at Horace, offended by his dismissive tone. "I know what I saw," she said firmly. "And it was no animal nor men. It was something far more sinister."
“You’ve seen it?” Ron asked. “You were there?”
“I was,” the waitress replied, her voice trailing off as if lost in thought. She absentmindedly played with the bronze ring on her finger, lost in memories that were too painful to bear.
“Then shouldn’t you be one of the suspects?” Horace interjected, his words dripping with skepticism.
“I’m not!” the waitress snapped, drawing the attention of the other patrons in the tavern. Her eyes were red, and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.
Horace looked flustered, and Ron couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle over him. He had come here to investigate goblins, but it seemed there were far more dangerous things lurking in the shadows.
Bron returned to their table, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the trio. "Is everything fine here?" he asked, sensing that something was amiss.
The waitress took a deep breath, struggling to compose herself. "I saw something in the woods," she began. "It was a creature, unlike anything I've ever seen before. Its eyes were black as coal, and its skin was as cold as ice. It moved with a grace that defied explanation, and I could feel its malevolence from across the clearing."
“Apologies, miss, but we three are here for a different cause,” Bron said. “I’ll be sure to pass this report to Foghaven’s Knight Order. In the meantime, I advise you all to be cautious and stay inside during the night.”
Bron eyed Ron and Horace. “We’re leaving,” Bron said.
“Wait, you can’t just leave,” the waitress barred their path. “People are dead. Shouldn’t you knights take this matter seriously.”
She howled like a cornered wolf, desperate in her heart. While the rest of the tavern’s patrons watched in horror over the waitress's bold action. Standing in the path of Foghaven’s knights was a rather reckless move more so when they were on duty.
Ron heard Bron sigh, and before he knew it he heard the screeching sound of metal escaping its sheath. He watched from the side as Bron hoisted his sword against the lone desperate woman.
“Please step aside, or you are in violation of hindering a knight on duty,” Bron said in such a lazy way.
The air around them was tense as if any sudden move would trigger a battle. Ron could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. He had never witnessed a conflict between the knights and the commoners before. It was a terrifying sight. The waitress hesitated for a moment before stepping aside, tears streaming down her face.
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Bron and the others left the tavern, leaving the tense atmosphere behind them. As they walked back to their horses, Ron couldn't help but feel guilty. He had come to investigate goblin sightings, but now he felt like he was leaving the town in danger. “Bron,” he said, turning to the knight. “Shouldn't we do something about the deaths in the town?”
Bron paused. “You surprise me, my lord. I thought your nice persona was a fake one,” Bron said. His words caught Ron off guard.
But before Ron could question such a statement. Bron continued. “You have a good heart, my lord. But the lass was lying,” Bron said.
“About the murder?”
“No, about the beast she described,” Bron said. “I spoke with the tavern master. Those deaths were indeed unnatural, but I can confirm you this, my lord. It is the work of men and not beasts.”
“So you know the culprit?”
“Well, for now, I have a conclusive guess,” Bron said.
“Do you mind sharing?”
Bron gave a quick glance to Ron. “Later, my lord,” Bron said. “For now we need to make haste.”
“Where're we going?” Ron asked.
“An eyewitness’ house,” Bron said.
All three rode back on their horse and made their way to a cottage on the outskirt of town, heading to Thornfield. Their horses neighed as the reins were pulled and all three descended with the clanking of their grieves.
Bron took the lead and knocked on the door. Ron looked around and noticed the cottage was eerily quiet. They called out to the occupants but received no response. Even their shouts were answered with silence.
Bron took charge and kicked the door down, leading the way into the house. The whole place was a mess, with furniture overturned and broken earthenware littering the floor. The trio drew their swords, on high alert for any danger that may be lurking in the shadows.
“Be on guard,” Bron warned. “I’ll search through the second floor, and my lord will take charge here.”
Ron's instincts kicked in and he couldn't shake the feeling that splitting up would be a grave mistake. But before he could voice his concern, Bron had already left for the second floor. He cursed under his breath and scanned the whole cottage.
“My lord, I’ll search through this area,” Horace said nervously. He volunteered to search separately.
“No,” Ron was quick to shut him down. “Walk with me and keep your eyes on my back.”
“But my lord, isn’t it quick—“
“Horace, just fucking do what I say,” Ron said, ditching the pleasantries. Whatever this situation was, his instinct was telling him that the danger had not left this place. “Y-yes, milord,” Horace said.
Ron searched through the living room, turning over the furniture and whatnot and he discovered something. ‘Blood stains.’ He frowned. Against the dark shade of the wooden floor, it was hard to notice, but he knelt down and carefully dabbed a piece of cloth on the floor, and as he suspected, it came away stained red.
Ron’s mind raced as this was rather unnatural. He might not be a detective back on modern Earth, but he saw a few murder-focus documentaries to know a really well-planned murder scene.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ he thought.
He traced his eyes forward and as he did, he noticed something strange - a wedge in between the wooden floor. He reached out to touch it, but before he could, the floor rose up, and a blade glinted in the dim light.
Ron raised his hand and in that split second an iron shield emerged out of thin air. A loud clash reverberated through the air like thunder. The impact was fierce, sending shockwaves through Ron's arm, he felt every last bit of that single attack despite being slightly enhanced from the system. He was pushed back by a step, but he still stood his ground. It seemed his idea of storing multiple types of armor and weapons in his inventory proved to be a lifesaver. The shield quickly equipped itself in his hand and he was grateful.
“My lord, what’s—“ Horace fell silent as he turned and saw who the ambusher was. His jaw fell, and the hand that held the sword started to shake.
Ron too saw it for the first time himself. A creature that only existed in myth, legends, on the silver screen, and in drawings. A goblin. It was a small, green-skinned creature with razor-sharp teeth and piercing red eyes.
The goblin stood there with an intense gaze, battle ready. It was in a combat stance and unlike the images he saw in literature, the goblin in front of him was dressed from top to bottom in shabby dusty leather armor. It was far different from the poor image of only a loincloth wrapped around its bulging waist seen in manga or anime.
Then within the tense situation, the windows appeared.
[First Fight: Goblin]
[Tier: 2 Star]
[This is your first step in growing your potential. Kill the goblins and nurture your combat skill through this quest.]
[Objectives: Eliminate the goblins around the area.]
[Will you accept?]
[Accept] [Decline]
The goblins were in the plural and it didn’t take a second for Ron to realize they were in deep shit.
“Ah!” a yelp of pain.
Ron glanced quickly and saw Horace stumbling on the floor. Before he could see what happen, the goblin in front of him launched itself forward, dagger raised high. Ron brought his shield up to block the attack, the metal ringing out as the blade clanged against it. The goblin's strength was surprising for its size, but he held his ground, his feet digging into the floor as he could hear the subtle cracks underneath him.
At the same time, he heard rush footsteps from upstairs. He reckoned Bron probably stumbled with his own goblin problem.Ron swung his sword wide, and the goblin backed up, hissing with frustration. He got some leeway to glance behind him, and Horace was in a panicking state. The young squire was madly swinging his sword, shouting like a scared little child. Ron saw a bit of blood pooling underneath one of Horace’s legs and it must be the spot where the hidden goblin managed to take a hit.‘This is a bit harder than I thought.’ Rather than opening up his status window, Ron verbally distributed his points. “All points to agility.” He didn’t hesitate. Speed was the key here.
At that moment he felt his body surge with an unknown power, and the goblin lunged forward again. Its dagger flashed in the dim light. But this time, Ron was ready and far quicker. He sidestepped the attack, his sword slicing through the air and catching the goblin's arm. The goblin screeched in pain as blood sprayed from the wound.
Ron did not stop there as he continued with the second blow. His shield smashed into the goblin's face with a sickening crunch. The goblin stumbled backward and fell on its back. Its dagger clattered to the ground. Yet that was not the end. Ron took advantage of the goblin’s defenseless position, his sword slashed through the air, landing a blow on the creature’s neck. A head fell, and windows greeted him.
[You have leveled up!]
[You have gained 10 Status points]
[You have gained 5 Skill points]
[You have unlocked ‘Greylock Breathing Formula.]
Then the quest window came up again. This time, Ron answered it.
“I accept.”