The Journey Begins

Morning Confrontation

The guild hall was filled with the usual chatter of adventurers planning their quests.

But when Asvorn stepped in—

Silence.

All eyes were on him.

He had grown used to being ignored. Being looked down on.

Now, they stared at him with awe.

Whispers filled the air.

"Is that really Asvorn?"

"No way. He looks like a completely different person."

"What the hell happened to him?"

But one pair of eyes burned through the crowd.

Kaisel.

The A-rank swordsman stood frozen, gripping his sword.

Asvorn turned to meet his gaze.

For a brief second—

Kaisel's breath hitched.

Memories of their fight flashed in his mind.

The moment Asvorn snapped.

The overwhelming strength.

The merciless beating.

Kaisel's hands trembled.

"That wasn't normal…" he thought. "That was… something else."

But he gritted his teeth and stepped forward, forcing himself to mask his fear.

"Asvorn," Kaisel called, voice steady but tense.

Asvorn raised an eyebrow.

Kaisel crossed his arms. "We need to talk about the mission."

Preparations and Tensions

They sat at a table, Lyara joining them with a scowl.

She made no effort to hide her displeasure at Kaisel's presence.

"So," Kaisel started, resting a hand on his sword. "We're heading to Draymoor. That means we'll be dealing with Clement's men—and probably Clement himself."

Asvorn nodded. "We should expect traps. Ambushes. He's not the type to fight fair."

Kaisel leaned back. "I still don't get why I'm here. You two seem cozy enough to handle this yourselves."

Lyara rolled her eyes. "No one invited you, Kaisel. The guild assigned you."

"And yet, here I am," Kaisel shot back with a smirk.

Asvorn sighed.

"Enough." He glanced at Lyara, then at Kaisel. "Like it or not, we're in this together. Let's just get it done."

Kaisel scoffed. "Fine."

System Check

Before leaving, Asvorn opened his system.

A familiar blue screen appeared in front of him.

[SYSTEM STATUS]

Name: Asvorn

Race: Human (Evolved)

Class: ???

Level: 15

Strength: 80 → 120

Agility: 70 → 110

Endurance: 75 → 115

Magic: 60 → 105

New Skill Acquired:

Beast Tamer (Passive): Can establish bonds with certain monsters.

Combat Instinct (Passive): Automatically adjusts battle movements to enemy patterns.

His stats had skyrocketed.

And now, he had a taming skill?

"This could be useful," Asvorn thought.

Closing the system, he turned to his companions.

"Let's move."

The Journey to Draymoor

They rode through the dense forests, moving swiftly.

The journey would take two days, and the path was crawling with monsters.

The first attack came just hours in.

A pack of Dire Wolves.

Their eyes glowed red, their claws sharp enough to tear through steel.

Kaisel drew his sword. "Finally, some action."

Asvorn, however, held up a hand.

"Wait."

Something was off.

The wolves weren't attacking.

Instead, they were… watching him.

Then—

One of them lowered its head.

Lyara's eyes widened. "Are they… submitting to you?"

A blue screen flashed before Asvorn.

[Beast Tamer Skill Activated]

Dire Wolf Pack has acknowledged your strength.

Would you like to form a bond?

[YES] | [NO]

Asvorn hesitated—then selected YES.

A surge of energy pulsed between him and the wolves.

The leader of the pack approached, lowering its head further.

Asvorn reached out and touched its fur.

"Good," he murmured. "Let's go."

With that, the wolves turned away, leaving peacefully.

Kaisel stared, mouth slightly open.

"What the hell was that?"

Asvorn smirked. "A new skill."

Lyara grinned. "Now that's useful."

Nightfall – The First Watch Argument

By nightfall, they set up camp in a clearing.

Kaisel tossed a log into the fire. "Alright, who's taking first watch?"

"Asvorn," Lyara said instantly.

"Why me?"

"Because I don't trust Kaisel, and I need sleep."

"Then I should take first watch," Kaisel countered. "You two need rest after all that magic nonsense."

Lyara scoffed. "Oh, please—"

"Fine," Asvorn cut in. "I'll take first watch."

Lyara smirked. "Good. Wake me when it's my turn."

Kaisel rolled his eyes. "Tch. Whatever."

Asvorn sighed. This was going to be a long journey.

Meanwhile, in Draymoor…

Screams echoed through the village.

Buildings burned, bodies littered the streets.

At the center of it all—Clement.

Dressed in black armor, the man watched as his subordinates pillaged the town.

A scout ran up, breathing heavily.

"Sir! We have a problem!"

Clement didn't even look at him. "Speak."

"Three adventurers are coming. A C-rank swordsman, a B-rank mage… and an unknown fighter. Strong."

Clement smirked. "Unknown, you say?"

The scout swallowed. "We believe it's… Asvorn."

The air went still.

For the first time, Clement turned. His golden eyes narrowed.

"Asvorn?" His voice was cold.

"Yes, sir."

Silence.

Then—

A chuckle.

Then laughter.

Clement grinned.

"That weakling thinks he can return?"

The scout hesitated. "He's… different now, sir. The reports say he's powerful."

Clement's grin faded.

He stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the scout.

"Then we'll prepare a welcome."

He turned to his men.

"Set traps. Poison the water. Make sure their journey is hell."

His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.

"And when they arrive—"

A sharp smile.

"Kill the girl first."