The First Mission :Part 1

That day weighed heavily on my chest. I thought I could have a father—a fleeting hope—but reality crushed it without mercy. I was a fool to hope.

From that moment on, I distanced myself from him. I no longer wanted to face him. Even though my body remained under his shadow, at least I didn't have to endure his oppressive gaze anymore.

On the first day after that incident, I began training. The sun had barely risen when I swung my sword, the wind whispering in silence. I didn't want to stop.

By midday, I went hunting. The forest was quiet, filled only with the sound of my footsteps and the rustling of leaves. That day, I managed to kill three rabbits. It should have been enough. Yet, something inside me still felt empty.

I needed more.

That night, I attempted to control my mana, but the results were futile. My mana capacity was too small—barely more than a spark that the wind could easily snuff out.

The next day, I repeated everything. Mornings were for sword training, afternoons for hunting, and nights for magic practice that always ended in failure. I tried catching a deer, but it was too fast. I returned home with nothing but a single rabbit.

Days passed in the same pattern. A full month went by with this routine. My muscles began to take shape, and even some of the older bandits started eyeing me warily. I managed to kill a wild boar larger than myself, yet my mana control remained weak.

Eventually, I stopped wasting my nights. Instead of practicing magic that refused to improve, I began studying various weapons.

Two months passed. I challenged wild wolves. They moved swiftly, their sharp eyes tracking my every movement. It took me a full three months before I could finally defeat them.

Five months later, I faced an even greater threat—an adult Orc. It was stronger than the wolves, and each strike could shatter human bones in a single blow. But I brought it down. Not with magic, not with anyone's help, but with my own hands.

I had grown stronger. Yet, against more experienced bandits, I still lost. My poor mana control remained my greatest weakness.

Now, I am eleven years old.

My father no longer watches over me. He knows I cannot escape, knows the outside world will never accept me. To him, I am no threat.

But I will change that.

I need more than just training.

I need real combat experience.

And finally, the opportunity arrived.

A group of bandits from another region came to the city, carrying an air of violence and ambition. Among them, I spotted Noel. It seemed to be a joint mission, ordered by the city's leader.

"We need two close-combat fighters and one archer," one of the recruiters said in a flat tone.

I observed them from a distance.

"They have a party formation?" I muttered to myself. "I thought bandits relied solely on brute force… but they're different."

This opportunity was too valuable to pass up.

"I'll join," I said without hesitation.

The recruiter eyed me. "Are you an archer? Why are you carrying a sword?"

"I'm a swordsman," I replied casually.

He still seemed doubtful, but before he could refuse, Noel spoke up.

"He's skilled with a sword. I know him."

With that one sentence, I was accepted.

I approached Noel. "Thanks for that."

Noel gave a faint smile. "Don't mention it. Besides, I know your skills. Bringing someone like you along will only benefit me."

I smirked. "Whatever you say."

And just like that, I became one of them.

This mission wasn't just another abduction.

It was my first step toward something greater.

And perhaps… a path I could never turn back from.