Destined Encounter

The evening light filtered through the leaves of the trees, bathing Richard in amber tones as he contemplated the end of another day of relentless effort. Sweat trickled down his forehead, a tangible proof of the hours he had dedicated to perfecting his skill "Apex," which now stood at 27% progression. With the insight of a strategist and the patience of a hunter, he recognized the diminishing pace in his learning curve, a challenge he welcomed as a silent invitation to further refine his training techniques.

Time, as always, was an unforgiving adversary. Two months had slipped away like grains in an hourglass, and Richard, now ten years old, was beginning to see the first shadows of a warrior taking shape in his physique. His stature gained more presence, muscular contours emerged like reliefs on an ancient map, and even his strength attribute witnessed a subtle increase of 0.2. It was a growth measured not only in numbers but also in the imposing aura that was beginning to form, a promise of power soon to be fully realized.

Over these two months, Richard had realized that he was not alone on his solitary journey. Three silhouettes, small and diffuse like shadows at dusk, had become a constant presence on the horizon of his training field. They were three children who, day after day, watched him with unwavering curiosity, always maintaining a respectful distance from his space. Their presence was like a gentle mist, harmless and almost imperceptible. However, on that day, something had changed; a silent decision seemed to have been made, as the figures, once mere observers, now moved toward him with deliberate intent.

The three boys, who seemed to float through the uneven terrain like leaves in the wind, carried with them the simplicity of their plebeian origins. The first was slender, with long and agile limbs that stood out, his posture as upright as that of a young willow defying the wind. The second bore the robustness of earth's roots, with broad shoulders and hands that suggested familiarity with hard labor. The third, of medium stature, possessed the balance of the ordinary, with lively eyes and an expression brimming with cautious curiosity. Moving with a hesitation that conveyed both admiration and apprehension, they approached Richard, whose presence seemed to demand an approach as careful as one would approach an unknown wild animal.

Richard's expression betrayed no emotion as the hesitant boys finally stopped at a safe distance. His gaze, fixed and impenetrable, was like a still lake of ice, reflecting only the distorted image of the young ones before him. The pause lingered, a silent test of their patience and determination. It was a moment of judgment, where every passing second measured the respect and courage the boys possessed. In his quietude, Richard awaited, aware that the true intentions of the boys would be revealed without the need for words.

The hesitation of the average boy dissolved under the weight of the expectant silence, giving way to a faint voice that could barely be heard: "We... we want to learn from you." The ensuing silence was deliberate, a void where Richard allowed the tension to build, closely observing the interplay of nervousness and daring in the children's eyes. The slender one took the lead, "Everyone in the village talks about you and how amazing you are, the older boys feel a bit jealous of you, so we want to follow you," breaking the stillness with a declaration of admiration and a desire to follow in Richard's footsteps. When the robust one finally spoke, "We want to follow you so that we can have glory," with a voice filled with a primal longing for glory, Richard's countenance remained unchanged, but his eyes gleamed with a glimmer of interest.

"You seek glory," Richard began, his voice as firm and unshakable as the earth beneath his feet. "Glory is not a fruit that is plucked freely; it demands a tribute of blood and sweat, in volumes that would make rivers and oceans seem like mere streams." The silence stretched as the three boys swallowed hard, confronted by the magnitude of the journey they were proposing to embark upon. "However, even the most exalted man in this world stands upon the shoulders of his subjects. If you are willing to bear the weight of my ambition, then march as my soldiers, and together, we may achieve the glory you seek."

As he uttered these words, Richard intensified his tone, a veiled thunder that resonated with authority and power. He watched the children, each one absorbing the gravity of his statement. He knew they held no value for him in the present, mere seeds in barren soil. But Richard glimpsed the future with eagle eyes, foreseeing the day when these seeds, carefully nurtured and watered with the discipline he would impose, might bloom into valuable pawns on the chessboard that was his world. "Understand, children, under my tutelage, you may rise. But know that the glory I offer is forged in the furnace of discipline and tempered on the anvil of strategy. Prepare to be remade in my image," Richard concluded, the promise of power and dominion hanging in every word like a sword about to be unsheathed.

The children were hooked like fish on a hook by Richard's words. The robust child, with fiery eyes of determination, took a step forward as if ready to march into battle under Richard's command. "I'm willing!" he echoed with raw passion, and without hesitation, the other two joined him. The energy emanating from the boys was palpable, and in the air hung a mixture of loyalty and a voracious hunger for direction and purpose. At Richard's command with a shout, "DO IT RIGHT," they knelt in instinctive reverence, as if an ancient code of honor had compelled them to this gesture of submission. "We will serve you for the rest of our lives as your soldiers," they proclaimed in unison, their voices intertwining in an oath of eternal loyalty.

The shrill sound of a notification cut through the fabric of the moment, bringing Richard back to the utilitarian reality of his internal system. His interface, an extension of his will and his tool for greatness, shone with a new update. The {Troops} tab blinked insistently, pleading for his attention. Three new names were inscribed there, each representing the promise of a future ally, a pawn in his grand game of power. Richard studied the names, his mind already weaving possibilities, strategies, and training plans. They were not just children now; they were the beginning of an army.