After several hours of travel, we finally arrived near the kingdom of Cindralis.
The road ahead was crowded. Carriages were lined up in both directions—some old and worn, others grand and decorated. People walked beside them, their belongings strapped to their backs or piled on carts.
"Did you hear about the market today?" "How much for the spices?"
Squeak... squeak... creak...
The air was filled with the hum of conversation, the squeak of wheels, and the occasional shout from a guard.
“That,” Garrick said, pointing ahead, “is the first checkpoint. They’ll check us over before we’re allowed to pass. Of course for safety reasons”
I nodded.
The first gate was a security checkpoint. Beyond it, the real entrance to the Kingdom of Cindralis loomed in the distance. We were still hours away, but the size of the kingdom’s walls made it seem much closer.
We waited in line for what felt like ages. By the time we reached the guards, the sun was high overhead. They looked like they hadn’t slept in days—dark circles under their eyes, their movements slow but deliberate.
One of the guards, a tall man with a bushy beard, stepped forward.
“Looks like you’ve been going back and forth, Garrick. What’s your business this time?”
Garrick grinned. “Just passing through, Merek. Got a load of silk and spices, and this lad here,” he said, giving my shoulder a friendly clap, “is heading to the city.”
Merek squinted at me. “First time?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, keeping my voice steady.
He grunted, giving the carriage a quick once-over. “Anything to declare?”
“Nothing but the best silk in the West!” Garrick said, winking.
Merek rolled his eyes but smiled. “Alright, Garrick, you’re clear. Move along."
After passing through the checkpoint, I managed to glance down at the bag my mother had packed for me. Inside were neatly wrapped bundles of food, a small flask of water, and a pouch of coins.
It wasn’t much, but it would get me through the first few months..
Although I felt a bit anxious, my plan was clear.
I had a year to prepare for the Trial of the Arcane Flame. That meant finding work suited to my age, leveling up, and gaining experience.
As we passed through the main gate, I finally saw the city of Vermillion, inside the kingdom of Cindralis.
The streets buzzed with activity. I saw children playing and performers practicing magic on the corners.
People moved in every direction, each focused on their own business. Vendors called out from their stalls, offering everything from fresh produce to sparkling trinkets.
At the center of it all stood a grand fountain. Water shot up high, catching the sunlight and creating rainbows over the square.
People gathered around it, some resting on the stone ledge, others simply enjoying the view. I spotted a few who looked like tourists, their eyes wide with awe.
We eventually stopped in front of a sturdy-looking building with large wooden doors. Garrick’s name was carved into a sign above the entrance.
“Well, lad,” Garrick said, hopping down from the carriage, “this is where we part ways. You’ve been good company.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pendant, made of polished bronze and shaped like a carriage wheel.
“Take this,” he said, pressing it into my hand.
“It’s a token of the Garrick Merchant Guild. If you ever find yourself in a tight spot, show this to any of my people. They’ll know you’re a friend.”
I turned the pendant over in my palm. It was simple, but it carried weight.
“Thank you!" I said while bowing.
He gave me a firm nod. “Keep your head up, Alistair. The world’s big, but you’ll do fine. Just remember, even when it feels like you're lost, a good laugh can usually get you back on track."
With that, he entered the building while waving me goodbye.
~
Alistair moved through the crowded streets, his eyes scanning for a weapon shop.
He needed something simple—a basic sword to start with. The city was overwhelming, but he stayed focused.
Before I could take another step, I felt a sudden lightness in my bag.
"Oh hell... Not today."
I turned just in time to see a small figure darting through the crowd—a kid, with my pouch of coins in his hands.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered. "Hey! Stop!"
The kid didn’t stop, of course. He was already at full speed, weaving through the crowd like a fish in water, slipping between people and carts with ease. I took off after him, my eyes narrowing.
[Observer’s Eye]
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
It was a skill I hadn’t used much, but now seemed like the perfect time.
---
Name: Grognak the Totally Innocent
Agility (AGI): 21
Stamina (STA): 15
---
I nearly tripped. “Grognak the Totally Innocent? Seriously?”
And his agility—21.
No wonder he was so damn fast. That was higher than I expected for a street kid. He was good, but I wasn’t about to let him get away.
Grognak darted into a narrow alley, barely wide enough to squeeze through.
I followed without hesitation.
No crowds here—just shadows and silence. It looked like a good place for criminals to meet up.
At the far end of the alley, he stopped—not because he was tired, but because he wasn’t alone.
Three men stood behind him.
Grown men.
The kind who looked like they spent their days lifting barrels or roughing people up for coin. One of them, broad and towering, cracked his knuckles as I approached.
“Well, well,” the big one said, grinning. “Looks like we caught ourselves a newcomer.”
But then I saw the kid smirking like some kind of psycho.
He seems to be enjoying.
“Hand over that bag,” the big man growled, his tone darkening.
“You’ll give it to us, or you’ll give it to us—your choice. Either way, we’ll make sure you don’t leave here in one piece.”
“Pick wisely.”
The other two laughed.
Grognak didn’t say anything—just stood there, grinning like he was enjoying the show.
I kept my expression calm, but inside, I was already sizing them up.
[Observer’s Eye]
---
Grath:
Strength (STR): 13
Agility (AGI): 18
Stamina (STA): 10
Varek:
Strength (STR): 10
Agility (AGI):15
Stamina (STA): 12
Drosk:
Strength (STR): 9
Agility (AGI): 16
Stamina (STA): 11
---
I could take them all without breaking a sweat.
But then I needed a weapon.
Then...
My eyes caught a sturdy stick lying on the ground. It wasn’t much, but it would work. I picked it up, weighing it in my hand, feeling its balance.
The big guy laughed.
“Are you fucking serious? A stick? You think that’s gonna save you? What, you gonna play fetch with us?”
The others joined in, doubling over in laughter, mocking me like I was some clueless farm boy.
Grognak’s smirk widened.
I held the stick up and took a step forward, my voice steady. “No, we're gonna play a game. Which one’s gonna last longer—this stick, or the three of you?”
The laughter stopped.
I gave Grognak a slow, taunting smile. His smirk faltered for a second. He didn’t like it.
Good.
Without waiting for a reply, I lunged forward.
Whoosh!
It was like my fight with the goblins. A kitchen knife back then, and now a stick.
I caught the thugs off guard. They barely had time to react before I swung the stick like it was a sword. The first thug took it in the ribs with a loud *crack*.
“Gah!” he shouted, stumbling back into a pile of crates.
The big guy roared, charging at me with his fists raised.
I sidestepped, planting the stick across his knee. He went down hard, cursing as he clutched his leg.
That’s when I felt it. I’d completely forgotten.
Wrath of Fenrir—a skill that grants a powerful buff to any weapon I hold. It enhances the weapon’s strength, imbuing it with a raw, untamed force, making every strike hit harder and faster.
“Oh, right,” I muttered. “Forgot about that.”
The next swing was effortless.
Whoosh!
I barely had to put any strength into it. The third thug flew into the wall.
His groan said everything—he wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
The big guy tried to crawl away, but one sharp jab to his back sent him sprawling.
I stepped back, letting them writhe in pain.
Grognak stood frozen, his earlier confidence completely gone. His smirk had vanished, replaced by wide eyes and a pale face.
“You done watching?”
I asked, walking up to him. He didn’t move, didn’t even blink. I reached into his hand and plucked my pouch right out of his fingers.
“Thanks,” I said, patting his shoulder. “Maybe next time, don’t do it again.”
He stayed rooted there, stunned, as I turned and walked away.
At the end of the alley, I glanced back. He hadn’t moved an inch.
~
Now, swords!
I walked through the streets, keeping my eyes focused for any sword shops.
After asking a few locals, I finally found it.
The sword store.
It had an old, almost antique feel to it, like stepping into a place that had witnessed decades, maybe even centuries, of history.
The air was thick with the scent of wood, metal, and leather. The walls were lined with various blades—some gleaming and sharp, others showing the marks of age and use.
“Can I help you, kid?” he asked, his voice deep, but welcoming.
“Uhm.. I need some basic sword,” I said, keeping my tone confident. “Something that’s good for my size, about 5’6”. I’ve been training, and I need something reliable.”
“A young one with passion for swords, huh?” He smiled, grabbing a simple, well-crafted sword from the rack.
It had a strong, sturdy blade, not too flashy but solid.
“This should be perfect for you,” he said, handing it to me.
“Good for someone your age and height. Will serve you well for training.”
I tested the weight in my hand, feeling the balance. It was just right. I could already picture myself training with it.
“How much for this one?” I asked, already reaching for the pouch of coins.
“10 silver coins,” he replied with a grin. “For someone as dedicated as you? It’s a steal.”
I handed over the coins, and he gave me a nod of approval.
“You’re a young one,” he said. “Young, but you’ve got the spirit. Keep at it, and you’ll go far.”
“Thank you!” I said while bowing, turning to leave.
~
After seven days in the city, I decided to challenge myself with a hell week—seven days of relentless training, pushing my limits and honing my skills.
The first step was to gain experience.
So, I set my sights on Silverpine Forest, a place not too far from the kingdom.
Silverpine Forest was peaceful—more peaceful than any forest I’d ever seen.
There weren’t any truly dangerous monsters, but that didn’t mean there weren’t threats lurking.
The forest had its share of creatures, some aggressive, others just unpredictable. It was the perfect place to start, a testing ground to hone my skills without risking my life too early.
I trained nonstop for almost a week, even sleeping in the forest.
It wasn’t comfortable, but it was effective.
----------------------------------------
[Status]
Alistair Quinlan
Level: 17
Age: 15
Role: Swordsman [beginner]
Strength (STR): 53
Agility (AGI): 58
Stamina (STA): 60
Intelligence (INT): 47
Aura (AURA): 15
Perception (PER): 55
Endurance (END): 61
----------------------------------------
I had increased all of my stats greatly, and the level gains were astounding. Coming here had been a great decision.
Bing!
----------------------------------------
[Hidden Quest Completed]
Slay 50 monsters
[Reward]
- Sanctum
----------------------------------------
Another reward! And another unfamiliar word.
"System what is sanctum?"
[Sanctum]
It’s an illusionary dungeon that appears before your eyes as a realistic, fully formed dungeon. The moment you step inside, it feels completely real, as though you’ve entered a true, physical space. Monsters roam within, making it a perfect training ground.
“Well, looks like I won’t be resting this week,”