As Vaan walked the cobbled path, his steps lightened by the warmth of Risa’s lips and the lingering taste of ale, he let out a low whistle. The crisp night air cooled his flushed skin, and above him, the twin moons winked between scattered clouds, their silver glow painting the rooftops in soft light.

  The village was quiet, save for the distant hoot of an owl and the occasional creak of wooden shutters shifting in the wind. But soon, the path darkened as he veered off the main road, slipping onto an old, abandoned trail where the moonlight barely reached. Thick canopies of gnarled oaks loomed overhead, their twisted branches tangled like skeletal fingers, swallowing the light whole. The air here was different—cooler, damp with the scent of earth and moss. Somewhere beyond the withered hedgerows and lichen-covered stones lay the village's burial grounds, the resting place of those long forgotten.

  This was the shortest way home, cutting through the outskirts instead of the well-lit main road. He could have gone the longer way through the market square and past the watchtower, but that meant running into the night patrol. And after three mugs of ale and a stolen kiss, the last thing he needed was a lecture from Petros’s men about "proper conduct."

  A chill brushed his spine, sudden and unnatural. He stiffened. That feeling again.

  Someone was watching.

  Vaan turned his head slightly, eyes scanning the thick shadows pooling between the trees. The night had gone eerily still. No wind. No rustling leaves. Even the distant owl had gone silent.

  "Spectres haunt the village, searching for blood and vengeance."

  Old Man Herrin’s words slithered unbidden into his mind. The drunkard was full of nonsense, always weaving tales of vengeful spirits, but this... this wasn’t just drunken fancy. This was something else.

  His breath hitched. His fingers twitched toward his belt, reaching for his blade.

  Nothing.

  Right. He hadn’t brought it. Why would he? No one carried steel just for a walk through the village.

  His pulse pounded against his ribs. The ale could explain the dizziness, the way shadows twisted like grasping hands, but it couldn’t explain the sheer, crawling sense of malice pressing against his skin.

  Darker than dark.

  The air thickened, suffocating. His body screamed at him to move, to run... but he stood frozen, as if unseen fingers had wrapped around him, squeezing, drinking in his fear.

  Then—

  [Inspect] has leveled up! (Lv.1 → Lv.3)

  A shock jolted through him. What? His mind reeled. That was impossible. Inspect wasn’t even a combat skill. Why would it level up just from looking at something?

  Unless…

  What did I just see?

  His breath came fast and ragged. The weight pressing down on him sharpened into something sentient, something aware. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to act. If he couldn’t cut it down, he’d use what little he had.

  Unwavering Blade.

  He swung his arm. A reflex, desperate. The skill ignited inside him. He felt it stir, but there was nothing in his hand. No steel. No edge to strike with.

  No arc of power. No invisible slash. Just him, swinging at air helplessly.

  No impact. No enemy. But the moment he moved, the suffocating terror loosened its grip.

  And then—

  The pressure vanished.

  Like smoke curling into the night, the crushing malice slipped away. The alley was really empty now. The shadows lay still. Even the bone-deep cold had lifted, as if it had never been there at all.

  Vaan didn’t wait to question it. He turned on his heel and ran.

  His boots pounded against the stone as he burst from the alley, the looming trees falling away behind him. The moment he reached the forge path, the warmth of home greeted him, the golden flicker of embers still glowing in the smithy. The scent of iron and burning coal filled his lungs, grounding him, anchoring him back to reality.

  Everything was normal.

  Vaan staggered into the forge, shutting the door fast behind him. The warmth of the embers still burning in the smithy wrapped around him like a lifeline, a stark contrast to the chilling void he had just escaped. The scent of iron, oil, and burning coal filled his lungs, grounding him, anchoring him back to something real.

  Garix was at the anvil, hammer in hand, his broad back turned as he worked on shaping a blade. Near the workbench, Brenda and Sister Marianne were chatting, their voices soft, easy. The familiar scene sent a wave of warmth through Vaan’s chest, so starkly normal that for a second, he almost forgot what had just happened.

  Then Brenda looked up, her eyes sharpening as she took in his disheveled state. “What happened?”

  Vaan wanted to shrug it off, to mutter nothing and leave it at that. But in front of her concerned gaze, surrounded by the glow of the forge, the presence of his sister, his father... everything came slipping out.

  Vaan had always thought of himself as brave. Growing up, he'd never flinched from a fight, whether it was with the other boys and sometimes men who had a class even. His courage had always been more instinctive than calculated, a confidence born from the certainty that he could handle whatever came his way. After all, he wasn’t afraid of anyone... not even the stern Petros, whom he respected.

  But what had happened back there, in the shadows of the alley, was something else entirely. Something he couldn’t explain. It had been different. The weight of it had pressed on him, suffocating him in a way that no threat, no danger ever had before. That was the kind of fear Vaan wasn’t used to. The kind that gripped him without a blade to fight back against it.

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  His mind raced. Unwavering Blade ignored mental debuffs. Maybe that’s why he had snapped out of it... why he had been able to move when every fiber of his being screamed to stay still. He had somehow triggered his skill partially, even without wielding the blade.

  Brenda’s expression darkened, and without another word, she began whispering prayers to Saint Saria. She nudged Marianne, who, despite her rebellious streak, for once joined in without complaint.

  Garix, however, simply paused his hammering and turned to him with a thoughtful look. “You were using Inspect all day, weren’t you? Hoping it would level up?”

  Vaan frowned. “Yeah.” He had used it on nearly everyone in the watch. And then again at the tavern, just in case.

  Garix nodded as if that confirmed something. “Then maybe you just hit the threshold. Could’ve been a squirrel or a rat in the dark. That should’ve been enough to push it over.”

  A rational explanation.

  Vaan wanted to believe it. He nodded, even though deep down, he knew that wasn’t it. His ‘inspect’ didn’t just level up. It leveled up twice!

  Garix set down his hammer and gestured toward the forge. “Come on. Let’s start. There’s a new sword to forge, and it'll take your mind off things.”

  That, at least, Vaan could agree with.

  Vaan stepped up to the anvil, ready. Garix had already begun working on the Duskiron, the rare alloy glowing with an eerie sheen under the forge’s heat. The metal shimmered faintly, shifting from deep, dark shades to something brighter as Garix expertly manipulated it with his tongs. The sword’s blade had already taken its rough form, its edges still jagged and raw. It was not yet ready for tempering... for now, Garix was carefully adjusting its thickness, ensuring the heat spread evenly across the metal. The shaping process was meticulous, requiring precise strikes to bring the blade closer to its final form.

  The work had taken hours, but there was still much left to do. By Vaan’s estimate, it would take at least a few more days to complete the full forging and tempering process. Duskiron wasn’t like any other metal he’d worked with before. It was as if the alloy itself carried an ethereal weight, a strange energy that stirred beneath his skin just by being near it.

  Taking a steady breath, Vaan focused.

  Steady Grip

  A skill acquired over years of hands-on labor, Steady Grip eliminates trembling or unsteady motions, keeping the user’s grip firm and their focus unbroken.

  He activated the skill, feeling it flow into his hands like a wave of controlled energy. His fingers flexed, and the tension he hadn’t realized was there vanished. The steady pressure of his grip on the tools felt natural, as if they were an extension of his very being.

  Garix glanced at him, waiting. Vaan set his stance, eyes on the glowing metal, and lifted his hammer. The familiar weight of the tool was comforting, grounding him further. He could already feel the warmth of the forge seep into his skin, the steady heat calming his nerves.

  Vaan struck. The clang of metal on metal was like a call to arms, clearing his mind, driving away the lingering fear and doubt. The rhythm of hammer against anvil replaced the shadows of unease still chasing him from earlier. With each strike, the blade took shape, the once-ragged edges smoothing out under Garix’s expert guidance.

  The next day, Vaan, Tal, and Ronald met up just outside the village, eager to test their newfound abilities. Like any new initiates, the thrill of gaining quick level-ups and discovering their class skills fueled their excitement.

  Ronald, as a Spearman, had the skill Thrust, a deceptively simple ability. It wasn’t a flashy technique, but rather an innate sense of his spearhead’s position, allowing him to control his movement with precision. Every strike conserved energy, ensuring the full force was concentrated at the spear’s tip for a more piercing impact.

  Tal, on the other hand, had a defensive skill linked to his shield as a Guardsman. Blunt Wave allowed him to redistribute the force of an impact across the shield’s surface, reducing direct damage. That was probably why he had shown up with a cheap wooden shield reinforced with strips of iron. It wouldn’t hold up against a heavy blow, but with his skill, it would last longer than expected. He also carried a spear, making him adaptable for both attack and defense.

  Vaan was the only one wielding a sword.

  Their plan was straightforward: head to the outskirts and hunt small quarry to gain combat experience and level up. The village watch, well aware of how reckless newly initiated youths could be, had forbidden them from venturing too far, especially during the first few days. Too many accidents, too much misplaced enthusiasm.

  But the three of them knew the land better than most.

  Between them, they could navigate the lesser-known trails leading beyond the village. Ronald, whose house was at the furthest southern edge, knew all the small game paths and hidden trails. Though thorny undergrowth and prickly bushes would make passage difficult, it was better than risking an encounter with the watch patrol.

  Heading westward would lead toward the burial grounds; a place Vaan had no intention of going near after last night’s experience. He hadn’t shared what had happened in the alley with Tal or Ronald. They’d probably mock him for it, and in the daylight, it almost felt foolish to dwell on. The morning sun brought with it a renewed sense of courage. He felt no fear now... only anticipation for the hunt.

  The first creature they encountered was a large rabbit-like beast with powerful hind legs and sharp incisors. It wasn’t just a defenseless herbivore. When cornered, it lunged with surprising speed and could easily injure an unwary hunter. A bite from it wasn’t lethal, but it was far from pleasant.

  Thornhare

  Level: 3

  A swift, aggressive creature known for its powerful hind legs and razor-sharp incisors. While not particularly intelligent, its speed and stealth make it a tricky opponent for novice hunters.

  Ronald, who spotted it first, grinned, probably leveling up his Inspect.

  "Not exactly the kind of beast you brag about taking down," he muttered, twirling his spear in his hand.

  "Yeah? You want to test how sharp its teeth are?" Tal smirked, stepping forward. "Go on, Ronald. Let it chew on your leg first."

  Ronald snorted. "I’ll pass. But at least let me land the first hit."

  He lunged forward, spear striking with practiced precision. Thrust guided the movement, ensuring the force concentrated at the tip, but the Thornhare was fast. It twisted mid-leap, dodging the attack with an agility that made Ronald curse under his breath.

  Before it could escape, Tal took a step forward, raising his shield... but instead of blocking, he held it out slightly, almost as if he were offering it up. The Thornhare, known for speed and stealth but not intelligence, took the bait.

  With a snarl, it sank its teeth into the wooden shield.

  "Gotcha," Tal muttered. He twisted his arm sharply, yanking the shield sideways and slamming the Thornhare into the dirt. It struggled, momentarily dazed.

  Ronald readied his spear again, but before he could make his move, Vaan was already stepping forward, sword in hand.

  His Orderly perk was probably acting up, as he found his movements aligning instinctively with the flow. As Tal knocked the creature off balance, Vaan stepped in fluidly, his sword already in motion. He struck cleanly, the blade slicing through its exposed side.

  The Thornhare convulsed once before going still.

  Level Up! (Lv. 1 → Lv. 2)

  Vaan felt a faint pulse of energy wash over him... proof that the battle had been recognized by the system. His Unwavering Blade, however, remained unchanged, which surprised him. He had expected the fight to push it forward, but perhaps it wasn’t enough.

  "Come on!" Ronald gestured at his spear. "At least let me get a hit in before you start claiming all the glory!"

  Vaan smirked, stepping back. "Didn’t see your name on it."

  Tal joined in and gave Ronald a playful shove. "What glory? You do realize it's just a hare, right?"

  Ronald scoffed, then suddenly jabbed his spear into the already dead Thornhare. A fresh trickle of blood seeped out, dark against its fur.

  Tal stepped back, grimacing at the sight. "Whew… you know, you don’t get points for killing something that's already dead."

  Ronald shrugged.

  "Unless it’s undead," Tal continued, "in which case, you probably get double."

  Vaan shook his head, sheathing his sword. They were just getting started.