Chapter Thirty-Nine: Duels

Ash spent the remaining days of the hunt in a repeatable routine. He would wake up early, then go and duel Rosalia. He won every time. Rosalia was good with the sword, but Ash had something she didn’t. He wielded the blade as if it was an extension of himself. He could see while she could not. Not yet, anyway.

Rosalia never got angry at her loss; rather, her eyes would gain a twinkle of determination as she set her jaw. “I swear, I’ll beat you one day!”

Ash rubbed the back of his neck,

“Yeah, err, you’re good, Rosalia.”

For some reason, that comment made her mad, and she stalked off.

You know, I don’t think I understand women, Ash said to himself. Lilith snorted at the thought.

When that was done, he went to hunt for ingredients in the forest. Sometimes, he encountered goblins or other forest monsters.

Goblins were green creatures with long ears, beady eyes, and sharp features. Some had spikes running up their backs, and while he did see a few goblins wearing shoddy gear or shifts, more than that were naked. They liked to ambush him or throw rocks.

However, he didn’t find the goblins to be much of a challenge. As long as you paid attention, their ambushes never did much damage or outright missed.

According to Rosalia, hobgoblins were entirely different—a cut above the rest.

He had yet to encounter one.

He picked up many herbs he couldn’t identify and returned some goblin parts. However, he soon stopped. Goblin parts were too common and not worth much. He kept a few so he could experiment with potion-making.

He did that in the evening, usually with Lilith looking disgusted in her dragon form, curled up on his bed.

He was able to barter for a scent-dampening script, which was also common in this town of adventurers. He had bought a herbalist guide, which detailed what many of the herbs and other ingredients he had did when combined into a potion.

Liquid from the eye of a goblin, thistle, and alcohol made stamina potions at the bronze rank. Ash realized there was a lot you could learn from books. Sadly, the AG restricted much of what you could check out based on rank.

Ash could only check out books from the bronze section. He flipped the page, running his finger down the page as he read. He had two goals, one of which was getting better at crafting potions. Frankly, he was shocked he had succeeded in his previous attempts.

It would be a dud if you messed up on temperature or even put in too much of one ingredient. This is why many alchemists measure everything. That Amalia had just thrown him into the deep end, so to speak, was even more frustrating now because she was expecting a blind man to see.

He failed more than once, many of his potion batches useless.

Despite that, he walked away with three stamina potions, two healing potions, and one goblin oil.

He wanted to make an elar potion, but as it turned out, those were very rare. Amalia had given him a potion worth at least one gold back when he was fighting the homunculi.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Ingredients to make them were scarce in Ivalia, found only in dungeons, if at all.

_____________

Days passed until it was time.

He returned to Wyrmhaven to have his monster hunting exam judged. Bag over his shoulder, he opened his mouth. More than half the applicants from the first day were not present. Either they couldn’t finish in time, or maybe…Ash closed his eyes.

Maybe something worse had befallen them.

The extensive line led to a side room behind the reception desk. A blond man wearing a suit with sharp features and blue eyes checked people in.

In front of him was a silver-haired elven girl wearing duelist leathers over dark green clothes. In a mirror, he caught sight of her eyes. They were green gold and held a hint of aloof fire within them. She had a bag in her hands.

Nearly everyone had a bag in their hands.

Some applicants walked out of the room with frustration writ plainly on their features. Others stormed out, slamming the door behind them, muttering darkly. Ash soon put it together that if you came out of the room, you failed. The rest must have left through some other door or stayed inside.

“Name and monster,” the blond man said, clearly bored.

“Erm, I killed a fire dire wolf…I think.”

“You think?”

“Apparently it had a dungeon core inside of it? Not entirely sure how that works?”

Mutters broke out behind him. The blond man set down his paper and pencil.

“You said it had a dungeon core in it?”

Ash rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if he was about to be disqualified.

“Yes.”

“Do you have the core with you?”

Ash glanced away,

“No. I had to pay off a debt. I sold it to a blacksmith in town. Skori is his name.”

“Hmph. I know the dwarf. Very well, the examiners will determine what you killed. Head on in.”

Ash walked through the door, Lilith in tow.

“Hey, the girl will have to wait until your done with the exam.”

“Oh, but..” The blond man’s expression changed suddenly, then he waved a hand, “Nevermind. She’s allowed, it seems. Go on.”

Weird, Ash thought.

Lilith turned her nose up at the man as she followed Ash into the room.

The room beyond contained a single table, and a three people standing behind it. One of whom, was Amalia. His reluctant teacher and storyteller said nothing to him. She wore black robes with a sword pin at the lapel.

Beside her was an old woman holding a cane between her, both hands atop it. Her gray hair had threads of blue through it, giving it the appearance of a thunder cloud and descending lightning.

Her face was weathered, something in her steel eyes Ash couldn’t identify. She wore black robes with a circular pin at the lapel. Finally there was a visenium man, his hair quite literally fire. His skin was burnished bronze, and he was huge, like a warrior out of a story.

A fang pin was on the lapel of the black robes he wore.

“Welcome, dear child. I am Al’Shearer, Master Delver.”

The man spoke up,

“I am Fire, Master Hunter.”

“I believe official introductions between us are in order, Master Lorcan,” Amalia spoke, her expression as emotionless as it ever was.

“I am Vane, Master Swordswoman of Wyrmvale Academy.”

Ash should have seen it. The way she always insisted on them learning everything at school, all of her knowledge, it made sense. It didn’t answer the question of why she had been at his farm. Still, it was nice to have some of the mystery revealed.

He rewarded her with a rueful smile as he set the bag down on the table.

Master Hunter opened the bag, removing the head of what Ash had thought was a fire dire wolf.

“Mmph. This is not a fire dire wolf. What you have here is a pyrewolf, a slightly superior version of the fire dire wolf, just before its bronze rank evolution, the stygian pyrewolf.”

His eyes reminded Ash of gold as they turned his way.

So shiny, Ash thought, his hand twitching from the desire to pluck an eye and squirrel it away somewhere.

“You told our colleague out front there was a dungeon core within it?”

Ash nodded.

“Impressive,” The old woman stated. Her voice was smooth, like river stone, with a slight lilt.

“A few months, and the monster would have been a full fledged dungeon lord.”

“I, uh, don’t know what that is, ma’am.”

She smiled at him,

“Of course you don’t, dear. I say you pass. Master Swordswoman?”

Amalia pressed her lips together,

“Pass,” there was no hint of praise in her voice. Ash clenched his fist, but said nothing.

“What would have been more impressive is if you had defeated a bronze rank monster, but nonetheless you have accomplished a feat few others at the foundation stage would have. You pass.”

He pointed at the door behind them,

“Go on. The next part of the exam awaits.”