The Journey Begins

As I finished my routine daily training, I could feel the strength coursing through my body. Each day, I pushed myself a little further, a little harder, determined to become stronger. Now, as I found myself closer to my destination, I knew it was time to finish this race.

But fate had other plans for me. As I was about to continue my journey, I heard a loud cry that pierced through the air. Without hesitation, I rushed towards the sound, my instincts kicking in. What I saw was a sight that took me by surprise - a young boy, no older than eight, running for his life from a pack of mini goblins.

I immediately grabbed my bow, my hands trembling with adrenaline. I aimed for the goblin's head, but my inexperience and fragile body betrayed me, and the arrow struck its feet instead. The goblin let out a cry of pain, giving the boy a momentary respite. He looked at me, his eyes wide with shock, as he grabbed his knife and took a defensive stance.

I closed the distance between us, standing about nine feet away from the goblin. I took another shot, this time aiming for its head. The arrow struck the goblin's arm, causing it to writhe in agony. Seizing the opportunity, the boy plunged his knife into the goblin's head, ending its life without mercy.

As we both caught our breath, we looked at each other, a mix of relief and gratitude in our eyes. "Hey, thanks," the boy said, his voice trembling. "No need to thank me," I responded, trying to sound calm. "It's normal to help someone in need."

"I'm Kristoff Fagav," the boy introduced himself, wiping the sweat off his face.

"I'm Barney Loley," I replied, offering a friendly smile. "Just your typical farmer boy."

"You must be heading to the academy, Barney," Kristoff guessed, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"You're right," I confirmed, surprised by his intuition.

Without any further discussion, we agreed to journey together. As the sun began to set, we found a clear grassfield to set up camp. We shared the leftover rabbit we had, exchanging stories and getting to know each other better.

Kristoff, a southeastern folk, had dreams of becoming a knight when he grew up. He explained to me his unique trait called rhythm, which allowed him to feel his fighting abilities improve as a battle progressed. It was like his battle IQ and passive skills increased with each passing moment. He had discovered this ability during a spar back in his village, and it had become his main strength.

On the other hand, my main trait was sharpness, which enhanced my awareness and allowed me to pinpoint my opponent's vital weaknesses. It was a different approach to combat, but it had served me well so far.

As the evening wore on, we packed up our tents and prepared for the next leg of our journey. We had different training routines, tailored to our individual traits. Kristoff focused on push-ups, weightlifting, and sprinting, while I honed my sharpness through other means.

With our backpacks securely fastened, we set off towards our destination. In the distance, we could see a large castle, its towering walls a testament to the grandeur that awaited us.

"This is it," Kristoff said, his voice filled with excitement. "We're almost there."

As we drew closer to our goal, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. The adventure that awaited us within those castle walls was unknown, but we were ready to face it head-on.

To be continued...