Chapter 003

The Renthein Eastern Village Training Facility was located in an inconspicuous back alley. It was just one of the many dilapidated, run down, and broken buildings that occupied this innocuous stretch of land. It lay away from prowling eyes and without prior knowledge, one would be hard pressed to locate the facility. Given by the atmosphere of the whole street, it didn’t really seem like a very populous place, and those that did venture through here were mostly a mix of underhanded merchants and penniless beggars.

All in all, the intimidating and somewhat desolate vibe of the location was enough to cause a trickle of cold sweat to run down Nero’s neck.

-Is it too late to leave?-

Nero wondered helplessly while his mouth twitched into a cramped smile. Even though he knew this was still a game, even then, he still had second thoughts. Surely, a training facility located in such a shady place wouldn’t be very effective, or at the very least, it would certainly not be very safe.

With cowardice thoughts floating in his mind, Nero fought the urge to run while steeling himself. With a phrase like “fight on!” repeating in his mind, Nero walked through the cobbled pathway and entered the not-so-friendly-looking Beginner Training Facility.

“Geh!”

Upon seeing the insides, Nero involuntarily let out a rude noise. His eyes scanned through the surroundings, causing his heart to droop, and his mind to regret his current decision.

In short, the training facility was… run down. If it weren’t for the old man that sat lazily on a coach towards the leftern most wall of the room, he would have presumed the place to be abandoned.

Somewhere, deep in Nero’s heart, he had hoped that this building was one of those cases, where the phrase “You can never judge a book by its cover” came into play. Unfortunately, the outside reflected the inside’s contents to a tee.

Mold grew along the edges of the walls, the floor mats were ragged and ripped, and most of the training dummies lay broken down and destroyed. While the facility somewhat resembled a modern dojo, its lack of care was a terrible deterrent for Nero. He once again played with the thought of leaving, but a pair of droopy eyelids held him in place.

The old man, who, prior to Nero’s appearance, had been merely looking of into space, focused his gaze on the newcomer. With upturned brows and an eager expression, he waved at Nero, signaling the boy to approach him.

Nero, likewise shifted his gaze to the old man, and stared blankly at him.

Upon closer inspection, the old man, wasn’t so old. Rather, he looked more middle aged, with a possibility of being in his late 20s. The only problem was, the weariness present on his face, coupled by those droopy eyelids added years onto the old man’s appearance. Other than that, the old man was rather plain looking, with the mild exception that the pure white uniform he casually wore suited him very well.That is to say, It looked natural.

While Nero stared absentmindedly at the old man, the person in question once again waved at him, urging Nero to come closer.

Seeing this, and realizing it was already too late to escape, Nero gulped down his apprehensions. Together with a mouthful of saliva, he staggered forward.

As Nero drew closer, the old man’s dry lips parted into a smile. “Quie a glare ya got there, boy.”

The man had a bit of an accent, but otherwise, his words rang clear in Nero’s own ears. Being reminded of his particular disposition (his face), Nero reddened in embarrassment, as he looked down towards his face.

Although Nero wanted to keep a calm facade, like usual, the abrupt reminder of his “deposition”, caught him off guard.

Seeing this, the old man’s drooping eyes widened slightly, as he heartily chuckled. “No need to get so angry there boy, it wasn’t an insult.”

As the old man continued laughing, Nero could do nothing but sigh. It seems like the man mistook Nero’s reddening face as a sign of growing anger, creating a somewhat tense misunderstanding.

“But, anyways,” The old man continued, “It really is quite rare to see someone visit this old dojo, much less a new face. The only visitors we get are old men, and shady looking NPCs. A-ah~ it really is quite a let down.”

The old man suddenly started complaining, moving his hand around exaggeratedly as if to prove his point.

-As expected, this place really is unpopular…-

Nero bitterly smiled. He could tell why, rather, it was pretty obvious that such a rundown dojo in such a shady street would be unpopular.

-Even the guy who works here complains, although for an NPC, that was pretty surprising… wait, this guy, earlier he said…-

Nero’s mind stuck to the term, “NPC” which had escaped from the old man’s earlier speech.

Nero, who had presumed that the old man was an NPC upon entering the dojo, re-evaluated his thinking. NPC’s don’t refer to other NPCs as NPCs. That fact was obvious…

Tensley gulping, Nero fought the wave of anxiety and nervousness that was budding within him. Overcome by strong curiosity, he attempted to ask a question. “A-a-a-a-a-are y-y-you-”

In a wave of stuttering and general awkwardness, Nero, while incapable of asking his question, still managed to draw the old man’s attention. The man, tilted his head for a second, before his eyes widened in understanding.

“Ah, are you asking me whether or not I’m an NPC or not?” The old man had correctly interpreted Nero’s incoherent speech. “Well, obviously, I’m a player, like you. As to why I’m here…”

The old man’s eyes floated upwards. He then moved and sat upright for the first time. The sudden movement caused a layer of wrinkles to form on his white martial arts uniform.

“Well, it’s sort of a quest?” He said the statement like a question, expressing that he too wasn’t quite sure. “Although a quest where they have me confined here 24/7 really is a bit over the top. That old man definitely tricked me…”

Before he could continue complaining, his slowly contorting face suddenly eased up as he breathed out a tired sigh. He waved his hand once more, as if dismissing his earlier worries, and turned back around to face Nero. “Anyways, you can call me Tren, but the real question here is, why are you here?”

Nero opened his mouth, ready to answer, before he abruptly closed it again. Beads of sweat trickled down his back as he struggled to form words. It wasn’t that Nero didn’t want to answer, in fact he did. Nero might not realize it himself, but being able to hold a normal conversation with another person was one of Nero’s greatest desires. The only problem was, well, the only problem was Nero himself. As expected, when he found out that the old man in front of him was another player, he instantly clamped up.

Talking with NPCs was one thing, but other players were a whole ‘nother hurdle.

Not getting a response, the old man’s eyebrows creased together. He put his knuckle to his chin as he leaned over to more closely observe Nero.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Ya don’t really look like the martial arts type… at the very least, you certainly aren’t like that “demon”... and looking over your appearance, you are probably a complete newbie, so I doubt you’re here for a quest or something… I ask you again, kid, why’re ya here?”

After he repeated the question, Nero once again tried to answer. It took him some time answering though. Or rather, the youth stuttered so much it took a full minute to form the simple statement of “I’m looking for a weapon, does the beginner training facility give out weapons?”

The patient old man nodded his head, and stated, “Weapons? Well, this place keeps a collection of wooden practice weapons for sparring. Seeing as how nobody really uses them, I don’t see why you can’t have one. Although if you're planning on using them for fighting, I’d advise against it. They don’t really give a lot of damage.”

Upon stating that, the old man pointed Nero in the direction of a hallway which Nero had previously overtook. After the old man explained how the practice weapons used for training were located in an old supply closet within an attached training hall, Nero awkwardly bowed his head as he delved deeper into the Beginner training facility.

*****

The hallway was narrow, but surprisingly long winding. Walking along the hard wood path, it took a while, but eventually, Nero came to see the rundown entrance to the attached training hall.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

As Nero approached closer, the deafening sound of wood against wood filled the air around him. With hit after hit, the atmosphere seemingly vibrated as the continuous noise continued in cycle. He cautiously poked his head into the training hall, only to see a single silhouette positioned towards the back of the the training hall.

The lone figure stood imposingly at a training dummy, their back facing towards him. He watched closely as the figure immediately zoomed forward, striking out towards one of the wooden dolls set up within the hall. Each strike twisted the person’s whole body into action, seemingly carrying both momentum and intent with each attack. The overly large wooden long sword in their hands blurred, as with each consecutive hit, the person’s speed grew and grew.

Since it was a bit difficult to tell from this distance and angle, Nero had no idea whether the silhouette in front of him was male or female.

Nero hesitated for a minute. He was on guard, and at this point, taking note from his earlier experience, he had already prepared for the worst. Nero assumed this person was definitely a player. With such a mindset, it’s only natural that Nero would think twice about entering the room.

But nonetheless, Nero had determined himself to try harder in this new world, so with a furtive step filled with all of his passion, Nero entered the room.

He blankly stood there for a minute, just staring at the person’s silhouette. Now that he was closer, he could tell that the person was definitely a girl, since, despite the creases on her uniform, she had a shapely figure that was particularly hard to hide.

Nero’s cautious stare slowly turned into absent minded observation, as he was seemingly sucked into the female figure’s work ethic. He silently watched, as the person struck the training dummy again and again, ignoring the worn out floor beneath her, which at this point, had already collected quite a bit of sweat. The person’s loose ponytail would sway ever so softly, matching the movement’s of its owner’s body. Each strike was perfectly executed, then replicated.

It was a bit obvious even to Nero, but this person definitely had experience IRL.

After staring blankly for 5 minutes, Nero finally returned to reality after a particularly loud strike snapped him out of his derision.

For a moment, Nero panicked. He was afraid that the person he had been so intently looking at had noticed him, but soon, Nero’s worries quickly disappeared. The person hadn’t turned around even once, only repeatedly thwacking at the training dummy without a care in the world.

It seemed, to this person, nobody existed except for her and the dummy.

Nero let out a quiet sigh as he began looking around the room. He was now back on track to his original goal, and, if the only other person in the room ignored him, then Nero would do the same.

With such resolution, Nero inspected his surroundings, and soon, his eyes came to land on an old supply closet towards the left wall of the training hall.

Sparing one more, brief glance at the quiet silhouette, Nero walked over to the supply closet and began rummaging through its contents.

Like what the old man had told him, the closet was filled to the brim with all sorts of weapons. From long swords, to katanas, shields to battle axes, small daggers to halberds, all sorts of weaponry filled the closet. The only thing of note here though, was that each item was made out of the same type of wood, and that despite the closet’s diversity, there were no long ranged weapons in sight.

Nero secretly nodded to himself as he took hold of a particular wooden katana with a discolored grip. Its height reached up to Nero’s shoulders, and its blade was thing, and looked somewhat fragile. The wooden katana was also surprisingly heavy. Despite its slender appearance, the wooden sword was easily 5 kg in weight.

-Rather than for slicing, this thing is more of a blunt weapon…-

Nero tentatively swung the sword downwards. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing. In actuality, this was Nero’s first time wielding a sword, both in game and in real life.

Truthfully, Nero liked the feeling. The feeling of holding a weapon deftly in both hands, swinging it around like a knight or samurai in battle, his long unused fighting spirit surged, as he cracked a small grin to himself.

-Although the feeling is nice, as expected, I can’t really do something like martial arts…-

Nero lamented to himself, while shooting another glance at the girl towards the back. Nero saw clearly their difference, both in natural talent and years of experience. Despite how hard he looked at the girl, he really couldn’t picture himself putting nearly as much effort into such a thing.

Sighing somewhat dejectedly, Nero decided it was time to go. He gripped the wooden sword with his left hand while also causally picking up an additional weapon with his right. The other weapon was a wooden dagger, nothing really that impressive, but Nero figured, since all this was free, he might as well get two instead of one.

After placing the dagger in the crook of his boot, Nero shut the closet tight as he turned around and walked towards the exit. he shot another furtive glance at the girl towards the back. Like before, it seemed as if she still hadn’t noticed Nero. Sighing, Nero wordlessly left the room, a vague feeling of loss swirling within him.

And like that, the girl was once again alone and Nero was once again on his own path towards this new world.