"By the way, I already took the monster's core," said the young man who had saved Aslan, his voice calm but firm. "From what I saw, there's a symbol on the back of its neck—means this beast belonged to a noble. Whether you want to live or die, that's up to you. I'm leaving. May the gods be with you."
With those final words, he turned and walked away, never once looking back.
Aslan, stunned by what the young man said, quickly moved toward the monster's lifeless body. He pushed aside the thick fur around its neck, searching for the mark. Sure enough, he found it—an engraved symbol of a horse with a unique design.
"Do you… know which family this belongs to?" Aslan asked, half-hoping the man was still nearby. But when he turned around, the stranger was already gone.
---
Not long after, Aslan packed up his things and prepared to leave. Before departing, he made a stop by Amanda and Ishak's graves. When he found the simple burial site, he knelt down, bowing deeply in respect.
"Thank you… for everything you did. For accepting me, helping me, staying by my side, and saving me," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I promise—I won't die until I've avenged all of this. I swear it."
After saying his goodbye, Aslan rose and left the graves behind, determined to begin his journey toward the Kingdom of Ardan.
He looked mature on the outside, but deep inside, Aslan knew he still had so much to learn about the world. As a child, his life was filled with laughter and play. Even during his time in the palace, compared to the horrors that befell the villagers, he had lived a lucky life.
At the palace, he was never allowed to study. The library was off-limits to him. Thankfully, Grace had once visited and secretly taught him how to use Tors energy—a gift that now felt invaluable.
---
Night fell, and Aslan finally arrived at a small town that was part of the Kingdom of Ardan.
"Entry fee is one silver coin, sir," said a guard at the city gate.
Aslan handed over the coin. "Do you have a map of this place?"
"It's one bronze coin for a map," the guard replied.
"I'll take one," Aslan said, exchanging coins and receiving a simple map. He entered the town, observing the buildings around him. The outskirts looked rundown, but as he moved deeper into the city, the architecture grew more refined and impressive.
In the middle of the crowd, Aslan accidentally bumped into a small child—maybe five years old—who was carrying a sack of rice. The sack fell, and the rice spilled onto the muddy street.
The boy's eyes filled with tears, but he didn't cry. He quietly started picking up the grains of rice one by one, refusing to waste even a single piece. As Aslan approached and reached for the boy's hand, the child flinched and let out a soft whimper.
"I-I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean to! I don't have money to replace your clothes if they're dirty," the boy cried, tears running down his cheeks.
Aslan gave a small smile and crouched to meet the boy's eyes. "It's alright. I'm not mad." He pulled out three silver coins and held them out. "Take these to replace the rice you lost."
The boy hesitated, eyes wide in disbelief. Seeing that, Aslan gently grabbed the child's hand, placed the coins in his palm, and ruffled his hair with a kind smile. Without another word, he stood and walked away.
Later, Aslan checked into an inn. As he lay in bed, his mind wandered—wondering where to go next. He didn't have enough money to reach the island territories, which might have been where he was born. And even if he did, the journey would be long and dangerous.
He wasn't strong enough yet. There were bound to be monsters far more powerful than the one he'd fought—and bandits, too. Aslan knew the road ahead would be full of danger.
"Yeah… this is probably the best decision. I'll head to the Fighter's Guild tomorrow," he said to himself.
Grace had once told him that regular people usually awakened their Tors energy through some kind of emotional trigger. Once they had that trigger, they could feel and use Tors. Those who could were called "users."
Users often joined the Fighter's Guild to hunt monsters. The pay was decent, and it was a sure way to grow stronger. That's exactly what Aslan needed.
---
The next morning, Aslan made his way to the guild. The building was large, and when he stepped inside, it looked more like a tavern than anything else. People were sitting around—chatting, eating, drinking.
Aslan walked up to the front counter where a woman stood waiting.
"What can I help you with, sir?" she asked politely.
"I want to become a monster hunter… but I don't know much about this job. Could you help me out?"
"Have you already awakened as a user? This job is dangerous for regular folks," she asked.
"Yes. I had my trigger a few days ago," Aslan replied.
"In that case, we'll need to confirm it first. Sorry if it seems rude, but sometimes people lie just to get higher pay."
"I understand."
"Alright then, just place your hand on that stone," she said, pointing to a strange-looking object on the counter. It looked like a regular stone, except it had a small tube attached to it. Along the tube were several marks spaced about an inch apart.
"What is this?" Aslan asked.
"It's a magical tool. When you touch the stone, a glowing crystal will appear and move through the tube. The farther it travels, the stronger and more skilled you are. The first line means you're at level two. The second line means level three, and so on. It can't be fooled by magic or anything else. No one can cheat it," she explained.
Aslan placed his hand on the stone. A glowing crystal emerged and slowly moved through the tube… stopping between the first and second marks.
That meant Aslan had surpassed level two.
To be continued…