Sword, Gear, and First Peril

"Even a fangless wolf will be devoured in this forest. So learn to bite."

I sold the only necklace left by my mother—a small, faded blue stone she once said came from the north.

It held no magical power, no historical value. But for a starving youth, it was more than a memory.

It was a ticket to survival.

The proceeds were only enough to buy:

A cheap iron sword: uneven weight, barely sharp.

A second-hand leather armor: torn at the shoulder, but still wearable.

A small bag: only enough to hold two or three potions and a piece of stale bread.

Three beginner potions: pink liquid with a metallic taste, capable of healing minor wounds.

I clutched the remaining coins tightly in my inner pocket.

They weren't just money. They were my final bet.

"Collect five Valis leaves and one Trivok root. Location: Old Valley Forest."

It sounded easy. But I wasn't a fool.

Valis was a magical plant that grew among the roots of old trees, guarded by small creatures called Sylven—troublesome monsters the size of a cat but with deadly sleeping poison.

Trivok was even worse. Its roots often grew near Crawler nests, fanged insects that lived underground.

But I had no choice.

The Old Valley Forest was silent, save for the rustling leaves and my footsteps on damp earth.

The sky was growing darker. Lightning flashed from afar.

"Even the sky hates seeing me breathe."

After an hour of searching, I found the first Valis leaf—bright blue, glowing faintly under the dim light.

But as my left hand reached out to touch it—

"CHIIIIIIIII!!!"

A Sylven leapt from a branch, sinking its tiny fangs into my shoulder.

Heat and cold surged through me in an instant.

I swung my sword toward the sound—missed.

My steps staggered. My vision blurred.

I bit my tongue, forcing myself to stay conscious.

With the last of my focus, I used one healing potion and stabbed the Sylven as it swooped down again.

Purple blood splattered.

I collapsed—but stayed awake.

I had succeeded.

One Valis leaf clutched tightly in my hand.

Four more to go.

And... the Crawlers were still waiting.

The Trivok root grew near a large rock, surrounded by tiny holes.

I knew those were Crawler nests.

I also knew one wrong move would wake them.

So I threw an empty potion bottle into the rightmost hole.

BOOM! – The sound of shattering glass and a small burst of remaining liquid made three Crawlers scurry out... from a different hole.

"I miscalculated—"

I ran. They chased.

One bit into the back of my armor—ripping it.

Another nearly sank its fangs into my leg.

But I was no longer some helpless village boy. No longer a useless slave.

I turned, dropped low, swung my sword downward—smashing the leading Crawler's head.

Its head cracked open. Green fluid burst out.

The other two hesitated. That was enough.

I grabbed the Trivok root and ran as fast as I could, panting hard, my heart pounding like a war drum.

I returned to the guild, covered in wounds, armor torn, and barely breathing.

But I had completed my mission.

The Valis leaves and Trivok root were in hand.

The receptionist—the woman with curly blond hair—stared silently as I dropped the materials onto her counter.

"This... is your result?"

I nodded.

She handed me a small pouch filled with bronze coins.

"Congratulations. You're still alive."

I replied with just one sentence:

"For now."

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