The early morning light seeped through the tattered curtains of Gordan’s modest room. He lay on his back, staring at the wooden ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. Despite the gentle stillness outside, his mind was anything but calm. The events of yesterday replayed in vivid detail—the battle with the desert ape, Eira’s overwhelming fury, and Lee’s near-fatal injury.
He couldn’t shake the image of Lee bleeding, gripping his side as if holding in his very life. The 'Skill up' space had healed them all after the quest, but the memories lingered, making Gordan's stomach churn.
We almost didn’t make it. I have to get stronger, he thought, the resolve tightening in his chest. I won’t let anyone die because of me. Not Lee, not Eira… no one.
Gordan clenched his fists, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. If I don’t get stronger, someone might actually die next time. He’d been granted this class—Jack of All Trades—and while it had served him well, it was becoming clear that it wasn’t enough. Lee had swordsmanship, Eira had powerful magic, but what did he have that could match their abilities in combat? His jack-of-all-trades nature gave him versatility, but it lacked the raw power he needed to protect his friends.
He glanced over at his sword propped against the wall, its dull blade a reflection of his uncertainty. I need to get better with this… And then it struck him—Lee's family could help. Lee came from a long line of swordsmen. If anyone could teach him the basics of swordplay, it would be them.
"Lee’s family," he muttered to himself, standing up and stretching. "If I can learn more about swordsmanship, about fighting... I’ll be able to protect everyone." He knew he was being shortsighted, but he had to start somewhere.
Luckily, it was the weekend. Gordan's mother would be handling the shop, giving him the freedom to pursue this new goal without worrying about work. He could feel his nerves easing slightly. I have time, at least for today.
With that thought, Gordan stood up, quickly changing into his day clothes. But before heading to Lee’s, he needed to visit his mother downstairs.
As a customer left, Gordan approached, his heart heavy with the knowledge of what he was about to do. His mother looked up at him with her usual warmth, but something in her eyes hinted at a deeper concern.
“Morning, Gordan,” she said, tucking a loose strand of graying hair behind her ear. “How are you feeling? You seemed... distracted yesterday.”
Gordan hesitated, but only for a moment. “I’m fine. I actually have something for you.”
"I’ve got something to do," he replied, trying to keep things casual. "But first, I’ve got a surprise for you. Close your eyes."
His mother raised an eyebrow, but obliged, covering her eyes with her hands.
Gordan took a deep breath and activated his skill, Impart. He’d reached level 27 in accounting, thanks to his time managing the shop, but his mother needed it more than he did now. According to the rules of his class, he couldn’t just give her part of his skills—he had to transfer them all. Once he imparted the full 27 levels to her, she would receive half that amount. It’s a good trade, he thought. She’d be able to run the shop more efficiently, freeing him to focus on his quest.
Gordan released the skill, a soft glow enveloping his mother.
"Okay, you can open your eyes now."
His mother blinked, looking confused at first. "What did you do, Gordan?"
"Check your stat screen," he said, grinning.
She hesitated, then opened her status window. Her eyes widened as she saw the change. "Thirteen levels… in accounting?" She looked at him, baffled. "How is that possible? I’ve been running this shop for years, but this… this would have taken me a lifetime to achieve."
Gordan scratched the back of his head, trying to downplay it. "It’s a skill from my new class. I can give skills to others, and I figured it’d help you out. No more late nights with the books."
His mother stared at him for a moment, then her expression softened. "You’ve been keeping a lot to yourself lately, Gordan. I’m grateful for this, but I can’t help but worry about what you’re getting involved in."
Gordan’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t told her about the labyrinth, the deadly encounters, or the fact that he and his friends had almost died just the night before. It’s better this way, he told himself. She didn’t need to know about those things. Not yet.
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"I’m fine, Mom. Really. This class—it’s going to make things better for us. I’ve got a plan to make sure we can live comfortably. You and Dad won’t have to worry about the shop as much anymore."
She still looked unsure, but she nodded. "Just… be careful, okay?"
Gordan smiled, feeling a pang of guilt. "I will. I promise."
His mother sighed, then returned to the books. But something had changed. Gordan watched in awe as she flew through the accounting for the past week, finishing in a matter of minutes. She didn’t need the calculator or her usual notes—everything just flowed effortlessly.
She laughed softly. "I don’t even know what to do with myself now. I’m done with the week's books, and it’s not even lunchtime!" Still amazed at the speed with which she had completed the task. “Well, I suppose I won’t have much to do for the rest of the day.”
“That’s the idea,” Gordan said, leaning against the counter. “I figured you could use a break.”
His mother smiled at him, a genuine warmth in her eyes this time. “Thank you, Gordan. You’re a good son.”
The words stung, a reminder of the secrets he was still keeping. But Gordan pushed the guilt aside, focusing instead on the moment of peace they were sharing.
“Don’t mention it,” he said.
After a few more minutes of idle conversation, Gordan decided to take his leave. He had the day off, after all, and there was still plenty to do. He grabbed a small pouch of coins from the counter—pocket money for the day—and headed for the door.
“I’ll be back later,” he called over his shoulder.
“Be safe,” his mother replied, her voice full of the concern she could never quite hide.
Gordan stepped out into the bustling marketplace, the warm sun hitting his face. The air was filled with the sounds of merchants hawking their wares, the smells of street food mingling with the scent of fresh produce. It was a familiar, comforting scene, one that had been a constant throughout his life.
But today, it felt different.
I’m not the same person I was before, Gordan thought as he walked through the crowded streets. And I don’t think I ever will be again.
As he made his way toward the center of town, his mind wandered back to Lee and Eira. They were probably resting after the battle, recovering from their injuries. But Gordan knew they wouldn’t rest for long. The labyrinth awaited them, and with it,
Gordan chuckled, but his mind was already elsewhere. If I can do this for Mom, what about Dad? He considered using Impart to boost his father’s crafting skills, making the shop even more self-sufficient. But that could wait.
For now, his mother was happy, and that was enough.
As Gordan left the shop, the cool morning breeze swept through the street, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded in the 'Skill Up' space the night before. The metropolis was waking up, and Gordan’s mind was already churning with thoughts of what lay ahead.
I’ve got a lot to figure out if I’m going to survive in the labyrinth, he thought as he made his way to the city’s bustling central square. And Lee’s family might be my ticket to getting stronger.
Lee had spoken about his family’s expertise in swordsmanship. If anyone could help Gordan hold his own in a fight, it was them. Gordan had always relied on Lee’s strength in battle, but last night had been a wake-up call. The labyrinth wasn’t forgiving, and he couldn’t afford to stay weak.
If Lee got hurt like that again... Gordan stopped mid-step, his chest tightening. The image of Lee crumpling beneath the ape’s blow flashed in his mind. I need to be able to help him. Not just stand there shouting orders like a fool.
Determined, Gordan headed decided to turn around and head where Lee’s family lived. It wasn’t far, but as he walked. He found himself lost in thought, worrying about the upcoming battles, the strange Skill Up space, and what the labyrinth would throw at them in the next phase of his plan.
Lee’s family home came into view, a modest but well-kept place tucked between two larger buildings. The sound of clashing swords echoed from the courtyard. Gordan stopped at the gate, peering in to see a group of young swordsmen sparring. Their movements were sharp, disciplined—nothing like his wild, unrefined swings.
“Gordan!” a familiar voice called out.
Lee stood at the far end of the courtyard, wiping sweat from his brow. He grinned as he jogged over, his sword slung casually over his shoulder.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Lee said, clapping Gordan on the back. “What’s up?”
“I...I need to get stronger, Lee,” Gordan admitted, the words coming out more bluntly than he intended. “I can’t keep relying on you to fight everything. After what happened last night, I realized... I’m just not good enough. Not yet.”
Lee’s grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “You held your own pretty well, Gordan. That strike on the ape’s back was no joke.”
“Maybe, but that’s not enough,” Gordan replied, shaking his head. “I need to learn how to really fight. And I was hoping... maybe your family could help?”
Lee studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. But it won’t be easy. My family doesn’t go easy on anyone, especially not outsiders.”
Gordan swallowed hard but nodded in agreement. “I’m ready.”
Lee led him through the courtyard, past the sparring swordsmen, and into a small training hall where a middle-aged woman with graying hair and a stern expression stood. This was Lee’s mother—Master Harlow, the lady of the family and a renowned sword-master.
“Mother,” Lee said, bowing slightly, “Gordan’s here to train. He wants to learn swordsmanship.”
Master Harlow eyed Gordan with a critical gaze, her arms crossed over his chest, which was uncomfortably large for the tight-fitting leather. “Swordsmanship, huh? And what makes you think you’re cut out for it?”
Gordan straightened up, meeting the older woman's gaze. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for it. But I do know that I can’t keep standing on the sidelines while my friends get hurt. I need to get stronger, for their sake and mine.”
Master Harlow was silent for a long moment before finally nodding. “Very well. But understand this—swordsmanship isn’t just about swinging a blade. It’s about discipline, focus, and respect for the weapon. If you’re serious about this, you’ll have to commit fully.”
“I understand,” Gordan replied, his voice steady.
Master Harlow gestured to the training floor. “Then show me what you’ve got.”