Chapter 8: "A whisper of doubt”

The wound on his leg, though still tender, had begun to heal after a full day of dragging himself along the roadside. The regenerative potion he had taken did accelerate the natural healing process, but for severe or life-threatening injuries, the effect was minimal, as it needed time to act.

Leo sat down on a fallen log by the roadside to rest and change his bandage. The rough bark snagged on his worn trousers.

The wound was still open but noticeably closing; perhaps on another day he would be fine. He replaced his bandages, wincing as the fabric pulled at the edges of the wound, and applied more of the potion. After changing the dressings, he took out a small, well-worn calendar to check his return plan.

It was the fifth day of summer, 189 NE (New Era).

The Humbra calendar had become peculiar over the ages. It was decided that one year would be divided into four parts according to the seasons, with each season lasting 100 days.

He took a bruised apple from his backpack. Looking at it, he noticed that he had nothing to drink, not even water. His throat felt like sandpaper. He took a bite, the juice a welcome relief, and thought,

"It's been over a hundred days since I started this whole thing. Don't I deserve a toast?" He smiled wryly.

"I'll definitely have a toast to celebrate my first mission," he said to himself, picturing a frothy mug of ale.

Leo finished his apple and got up to continue his journey when he heard the sound of an ox cart. The rhythmic creak of the wheels and the soft plod of hooves grew closer.

The ox cart stopped, and a farmer looked at Leo and asked, "You lost, kid?" He had a strong country accent.

Leo didn't want to look weak, so he pretended he was fine. He straightened up, ignoring the throbbing protest in his leg, and walked over to the cart.

"Not lost, sir, just tired and need some help," he said.

"What kind of help ya need, kid?" The farmer asked, his eyes weathered and kind, crinkling at the corners.

"I need to get back to Gothia, that's all," Leo said.

"Hop in then, kid. Gothia's where I'm headed," the farmer said, jerking his head towards the back of the cart.

Leo climbed into the cart and sat down, relieved. "Thanks, mister, I'll pay you back when I can." He settled onto a pile of sacks, the rough fabric scratching against his skin.

"First off, what's your name, sonny? You look like you've wrestled a bear and lost."

"It's Leonard, sir."

"Leonard, huh? No need to fake it; I can see your leg's messed up."

Leo was surprised; his muscles tensed, his body going into a state of alertness. His hand instinctively moved towards his swords.

"Whoa there, sonny! Don't you worry," the farmer said with a hearty laugh. "I ain't gonna hurt ya. Just got an eye for these things."

"How did you know my conditions?" Leo was confused, his voice laced with suspicion.

"Well, I'll be," the man chuckled. "I'm a Neumond myself. You thought only city folk could be gifted? "I just protect my crops with my bare hands." He seemed quite proud of himself, patting his chest with a calloused hand.

"But sir, how?" Leo thought the man had some special ability.

"I'm old enough to be your grandfather, boy. Years of experience, that's all. Maybe if I took the test, I'd get a gold or platinum rank, who knows?" He winked.

"By the way, what's your name, sir?"

"Call me Clyde," the old man said as he started chewing on a grass stalk.

Clyde's accent was very strong, suggesting he had lived his whole life in the countryside without much education. Leo had to concentrate to catch every word, the unfamiliar drawl thick as honey. It was a bit difficult for Leo to fully understand what he was saying, and he even wondered if the man was from a different continent.

Everyone on the continent of Fros spoke the same language, Nordilic, but there were different accents and dialects across the four continents. They also had an ancestral language they could use to communicate, but it was only taught in schools.

They conversed as best they could along the way, and Clyde explained that Leo should be careful of all kinds of people in Fros, especially outside the walls. It wasn't just the monsters; even seemingly normal people could be awakened.

Night was falling, and Leo was fighting off sleep, his eyelids heavy, when he finally saw the long walls of Gothia rising on the horizon with its large spotlights. The big cities used a mix of technology and magic. Machines developed before the awakening had been remade with magic runes to use mana as fuel, increasing efficiency and performance.

The return trip was relatively uneventful despite Leo's injuries. He protected his collection at all times, though he slightly regretted not having time to remove the ivory tusks from the boar Leirion, which could have been sold for a good price. The weight of the pouch with the flowers felt reassuring against his hip.

Approaching the gate, the guards stopped them to check their identities and the cart's cargo. They were allowed to enter. Leo jumped off the cart, his leg protesting with a sharp stab of pain. He needed to go to the Guild House. He said goodbye to the farmer, thanking him again for the ride, who waved back as he headed towards the market.

"What can I do for you today, Leo?" Silica asked, her brow furrowed with concern as she noticed his limp. She was actually using his name, a far cry from the formal "Mr. Leonard" she had used before.

"I've come to deliver the items from this mission," Leo said, a touch of pride in his voice. He handed Silica the closed bag and the contract he had signed. "Please don't open the bag in sunlight. The flower becomes useless if you do."

"Certainly, Mr. Leonard," she replied. Silica was amazed by Leo's determination; he was very weak to complete such missions. "He really did it," she thought, impressed.

After the verification and payment for the completed contract, he just wanted to fall into his bed and pass out from exhaustion. Arriving at his boarding house, he paid all his debts, the two gold coins feeling lighter than expected in his hand. His sore muscles felt better after a bath in warm water, and he did not care that he was not comfortable when he fell asleep.

When Leo woke up in the morning, he thought about what had happened and shuddered. The boar's tusk and the spider's fangs were still fresh in his mind. He now realized how close he had come to dying. He touched his leg and felt that his wound had already healed. He set aside money for meals for a while, and the rest would go towards buying armor, even if it was the most basic kind.

Leo browsed the market, assessing various types of ready-made armor, but he wasn't confident about the cost-benefit ratio. Everything was very expensive and seemed like fragile cloth and sensitive metals. Leo wasn't wrong; ready-made armor was expensive because it was readily available. If you wanted something good and cheap, it would take days to gather the materials and go to a blacksmith or tanner to prepare your own armor.

He only had one gold and three silver coins; there was no way to buy anything of good quality with that amount. Leonard was about to leave when an old man waved to him. It was the elderly man whose life he had saved by holding the cart loaded with leather when it broke down.

"Come here, boy!" shouted the hoarse old man.

"Good morning, sir," Leo greeted him as he approached. "How can I help you today?"

"No, no, no! I will help you today. I saw you looking at all kinds of armor all over the market, and I owe you from the past. Come, come!" The gentleman seemed euphoric.

"Sir, I have little money; I cannot buy anything of your quality."

"Don't be so humble; I will give you such a boon. Take your money and find a blacksmith to have suitable attire made, you, my little savior!" Ironically, Leo was almost twice the size of the gentleman.

Leo thought about the offer; a cold sensation passed through his leg, a phantom pain from the recent wound. He then decided to accept, swallowing his pride. He just wanted to stay alive.

He looked among the hides the gentleman had and could give him, then chose the Leirion boar hide. He remembered how hard it was to cut through the skin of that muscle-bound monster that almost took his life, so he decided on that one.

"Great choice! Come here, boy." The old man took a charcoal stick wrapped in thin paper and wrote on a small piece of paper. "Here is the address of a great armorer. Tell him Old Man Campbell sent you." The old man rubbed his hands together, satisfied with his gesture. "He owes me a favor or two." He felt regret for not being able to pay his debt in the past

Leo took the paper from the gentleman's hand and thanked him profusely.

He took the boar hides and, after a few minutes of walking through the market, got lost among some alleys. He thought about going back and asking the old man for directions when he spotted a small sign in a place almost bordering the slums and the market.

"Hello, is anyone in charge here?" Leo entered the shop and asked, not seeing anyone.

In the shop, there was a man sitting with his back to the counter on an old wooden stool. He was shirtless, wearing ordinary pants and a black leather apron. His shoulder-length hair was wet with sweat, and his shimmering white beard gave the shop a mysterious air. The way he worked exuded a dense and rustic aura, like a true master craftsman. He was currently working on a piece of leather, his large hands moving with a surprising dexterity.

The man remained silent.

Leo approached and was about to say something while the man continued his work with the leather in his hands.

"Mr. Camb..."

The man sniffed the air like a hunting dog and interrupted Leo.

"One gold coin for your boar leather," he said in an extremely serious voice, not even looking at Leo.

"Okay..." Leo placed the leather on the counter with a gold coin and turned to leave the shop without another word. He understood the armorer's message: don't interrupt me.

Then the armorer simply said, "Come back tomorrow."

Leo let out a "uh-huh" and left the shop after reading the atmosphere that he should follow with this armorer.

The day was hot that summer morning, but Leo didn't mind the weather much. He decided to go to the Guild House to ask for some information. Arriving at the Guild House, Leo looked for Silica, but she wasn't there; it was her day off. So he went to the regular counter and talked to a cashier.

"I'd like some information, please," Leo said, presenting his GHMC.

"Certainly, Mr. Leonard," she responded after checking his ID. "How may I help you?"

"Are there any caravans going towards the ruins of Besen Village?"

"There's one leaving tomorrow afternoon, sir," she replied. "The journey is 200 kilometers, so it will take two days, and you'll probably arrive at sunset."

"How can I get a horse instead of relying on caravans?" Leo asked curiously.

"You can buy our daily rental tokens or buy a horse directly from the stable," the girl answered mechanically.

"Just out of curiosity, what's the price?"

"Mr. Leonard, renting a horse costs 50 silver coins per day. Buying a horse, however, varies according to its quality and can cost from 4 platinum coins to 500."

"What the heck?" Leo was startled by the price; it was a fortune. He could live for a whole year on 5 platinum coins.

"Excuse me, Mr. Leonard, what did you say?" She still sounded like a robot, her expression unchanging.

"Uh... thank you for the information," Leo mumbled, turning to leave, feeling a wave of despair wash over him.

Leo realized that his mood had shifted in recent days. He didn't feel as demotivated, just a lingering sadness in his heart that he didn't know if he could cure.

Leo sighed deeply and thought that he should return to Besen village and would do so as soon as possible. He owed it to himself and to Mia to confront the ghosts of his past.

Motivated to master his dual-wielding abilities, Leo decided to seek information at Gothia's magical library. He believed that finding a specific fighting style could be the key to increasing his powers and becoming a stronger swordsman.

The bustling activity of Gothia's central square enveloped him as he strolled. The soft melody of a mandolin accompanied the voice of a bard narrating a fable, creating a magical medieval atmosphere. Benches hosted lively conversations, while the crowd flowed in constant movement. It was the beating heart of the duchy, a verdant oasis with flower gardens that danced before the eyes of those who passed by.

Leo felt a strange presence watching him. He turned behind a couple of times, but there was no one suspicious. He kept feeling uneasy, like someone was following him, with a prickle in the back of his neck. His hand instinctively went to the hilts of his swords.

He quickened his pace to the library.

The library stood before him, an imposing building with a mystical aura. Magical symbols adorned the stone walls, and a subtle glow emanated from the arched windows. The ceiling was tall and vaulted, with long rows of shelves greeting those who entered. Leo was surrounded by a profound silence, broken only by the rustling of pages and the murmur of distant voices. The aroma of old scrolls, mana dust, and incense filled the air.

He approached the counter, where a librarian with a long white beard greeted him with a knowing look. Leo timidly explained that he needed to find information about dual-wielding fighting styles. With a mysterious smile, the librarian led him through the maze-like hallways lined with tall bookcases that were full of old books and forgotten stories. Finally, they reached a restricted section. He asked to see Leonard's GHMC, and after a brief inspection, he retrieved a relatively small book compared to the others. The gentleman left him after handing him the book.

Leonard looked for a nearby table, but not finding one, he sat on the floor and immersed himself in reading. It was a book about extinct swordsmen, a style not seen for a long time. Upon opening and reading it, he discovered a variety of dual-wielding fighting styles:

Blade Dancer: prioritizes agility and speed with fluid and unpredictable movements.

Spectral Duelist: combines swift attacks with illusions and misdirection techniques.

Storms Master: channels their strength into torrential attacks through the swords.

Mirror Warrior: uses two swords to create a whirlwind of steel, deflecting attacks like a shield.

Shadow Hunter: a master of fighting in the dark.

While looking at the pictures and reading the words in the book, Leonard had that creepy feeling that someone was watching him. He felt his heart racing and started to sweat as he looked around, but he did not see anyone that seemed fishy. The library was quiet, and everyone was busy reading. Was it all in his head? Or was someone spying on him? Leo started to get nervous and wanted to leave.

He ran to the door and pushed it open. The sound of his boots broke the sudden silence. For an instant, he was blinded by the intense sunlight that struck him like a punch.

He left the library with a lot of new information, but he also felt uneasy. He needed to get ready for his trip to Besen, but he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. Who would be interested in him? And why? Should he even go to Besen now? A whisper of doubt, cold and insidious, slithered into his mind.