As the dust settled after the confrontation, Shi Yan approached Kellan with a hesitant smile, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you, Kellan," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. "Standing up for me like that... it means a lot. I don't know how to repay you."
Kellan placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "You don't need to repay me. We're friends. If you ever need help, just ask."
Shi Yan's lips trembled, and he blinked rapidly, fighting against the tears that threatened to spill. "I... I don't know what to say. Thank you again." He inhaled deeply, pausing as he considered his next words. "Maybe I should try cultivating on my own. Not to challenge anyone, but... just to protect myself."
Kellan nodded thoughtfully, sensing the weight of Shi Yan's words. "That could be a good idea. Cultivation isn't just about competing. It's about ensuring your own safety."
Shi Yan bit his lip, glancing down at his feet, uncertainty shadowing his features. "I'll think about it, but cultivation requires so many resources. What if I can't even begin?"
Kellan's understanding gaze softened. "It's not an easy path, but if you decide to try, let me know. I'll help however I can."
With a final exchange of thanks, Kellan bid farewell to Shi Yan and made his way back toward the task board, his thoughts already turning to his next challenge. The clan tournament was looming on the horizon, and he knew he had to get stronger. He had pushed his limits in his recent battle, but it wasn't enough. If he wanted to compete at a higher level, he needed to prepare thoroughly.
Arriving at the familiar building where tasks were posted, Kellan found himself pausing at the entrance. He glanced around, the atmosphere different now that he was on his own. The last time he had been here, Big Bone had accompanied him, their conversation and banter softening the edges of the challenge they were about to face. Now, alone, Kellan felt the weight of responsibility settle more heavily on his shoulders. His heart quickened as he stepped through the door, the soft creak of the wooden frame echoing in the quiet space.
The task board loomed ahead, a wide slab of polished wood covered in parchment. Kellan's eyes scanned the board, each mission more difficult than the last. His fingers twitched at his side, a small surge of determination rising within him. He had no choice but to get stronger. The clan tournament was fast approaching, and if he wanted to prove himself, to stand out among his peers, he had to push beyond his limits.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and approached the teller's desk. The man behind the counter was older, his face marked with the lines of experience, his eyes sharp and assessing as Kellan stepped forward. For a moment, the silence between them felt heavy, and Kellan's mind raced with thoughts of the looming tournament, the need for strength, and the dangers he would have to face alone.
"I'm thinking about taking on another task," Kellan finally said, his voice steady but laced with the undercurrent of urgency. His frown deepened as he continued. "The clan tournament's coming up, and I need to get stronger. Do you have any suggestions?"
The teller leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he appraised Kellan, weighing his words carefully. Kellan shifted on his feet, wondering if the teller would turn him away or give him a task too difficult to handle. He couldn't afford to be reckless, but he needed something challenging—something that would make him stronger.
After a long pause, the teller finally nodded, as if coming to a decision. "If you're looking to train," he began, his voice gruff but not unkind, "you should consider hunting Red Tipped Boars. They're fairly strong mutated beasts, not the easiest to take down. But if you're unlucky, you might run into one that's grown strong enough to become a demonic beast."
Kellan's breath hitched slightly. A demonic beast? That was a challenge far greater than he had expected. His eyes widened, but the teller wasn't finished.
"They're dangerous," the teller continued, his gaze steady, "but they're also valuable. Their meat, when cooked properly, has properties that can strengthen your physique. It'll give you a real edge if you're looking to build up your body for the tournament."
The idea of encountering a demonic beast stirred a mix of excitement and apprehension in Kellan's chest. He knew that even normal Red Tipped Boars could be vicious, their sharp tusks capable of piercing armor, their speed deceptively fast for their bulky forms. But the rewards... they were tempting.
Kellan's eyes lit up at the thought. If the meat could enhance his strength, even slightly, it would be a task worth the risk.
"That sounds perfect," Kellan said, his voice filled with renewed determination. He straightened his posture, feeling a bit of excitement. "I'll take that task."
The teller gave a small nod of approval, a hint of respect flashing in his eyes as he handed Kellan the task slip. "Good luck, boy," he said. "You'll need it. Red Tipped Boars aren't known for being merciful. Keep your wits about you—and don't underestimate the forest."
Kellan gripped the slip in his hand, nodding firmly. "I'll be ready."
After thanking the teller, Kellan stepped out into the crisp afternoon air, the bustle of the marketplace drawing him forward. The streets were alive with activity—vendors calling out their wares, children darting between stalls, and the occasional clink of metal as blacksmiths hammered away at fresh creations. The mingling scents of roasted meats, exotic spices, and medicinal herbs filled the air, creating an atmosphere that buzzed with life and energy.
As Kellan made his way through the crowd, he could hear snatches of conversation: gossip about the upcoming tournament, news of the latest beast sightings in the wilderness, and the occasional mention of new goods being sold in the marketplace. His thoughts, however, remained focused on the task ahead. He needed supplies—medicine, gear, anything that would give him an edge in the dangerous mission he was about to undertake.
Arriving at the shop, he paused for a moment to take it in. The wooden building was unassuming from the outside, but the moment he stepped through the door, Kellan was struck by the sheer variety of items crammed inside. Rows of shelves lined the walls, stacked high with everything from weapons gleaming in the light to rows of brightly colored potions. On one side, racks of finely made armor stood gleaming, their metal and leather polished to a shine. In another corner, intricate amulets dangled from hooks, their gemstones twinkling in the soft glow of enchanted lanterns overhead.
The shop had a warm, inviting feel despite the intimidating array of goods. The air was heavy with the rich scent of leather and herbs, and the faint hum of magical enchantments could be felt as Kellan walked through the aisles. Every object seemed to pulse with hidden power, each offering some advantage in battle—if one could afford it.
Kellan's gaze lingered on a beautifully forged sword, its blade thin but deadly, and a suit of armor that gleamed in the corner like liquid metal. For a moment, he imagined how much easier the hunt would be if he could afford such high-quality gear, but a glance at the price tags quickly brought him back to reality. The numbers were astronomical—far beyond anything he could pay.
He approached the counter, where the shopkeeper, an older man with a grizzled beard and keen eyes, stood waiting. Behind the counter were rows of glass jars filled with various powders and liquids, each labeled in an old script Kellan couldn't quite decipher. The air here was thicker, almost medicinal, and Kellan could sense the power within the concoctions that lay behind the man.
"I need some medicine for the hunt. What do you have?" Kellan asked, his eyes scanning the shelves as he spoke.
The shopkeeper, without missing a beat, moved to the back shelf and began gathering a small collection of bottles and vials, each filled with vibrant, shimmering liquids. He placed them on the counter with a practiced hand. "These should be enough for a good number of encounters," he said, his voice rough but cordial. "Standard healing tonics—enough to keep you on your feet if things get rough."
Kellan inspected the items, noting the subtle glow in each vial that indicated the potency of the potions. They weren't the strongest available, but they were reliable. That was what mattered. He nodded, satisfied.
"How much for all of it?" Kellan asked.
The shopkeeper eyed him for a moment before replying, "10 Spirit Stones for the lot."
Kellan didn't hesitate. He reached into his pouch and handed over the stones, the weight of them passing from his hand to the shopkeeper's with a clink. He knew he needed every advantage he could get, and proper healing supplies were essential.
"Thanks," Kellan said, stowing the medicine carefully in his bag. As he prepared to leave, something caught his eye.
Near the back of the shop, a set of light armor hung on a wooden stand, barely noticeable amid the bulkier, more ornate pieces surrounding it. It wasn't flashy—simple, sleek, and understated, with dark leather straps and a subtle shimmer that hinted at an enchantment. Kellan's heart skipped a beat. It looked like exactly what he needed: something light, flexible, and effective without slowing him down.
"Do you have any cheap light armor?" Kellan asked, nodding toward the set. "I don't want anything that'll slow me down, but it needs to be affordable."
The shopkeeper followed Kellan's gaze and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. After a moment of consideration, he gave a small nod and disappeared into the back room. Kellan waited, the hum of the marketplace still drifting faintly through the shop's open door. His mind raced as he considered the potential danger ahead—the Red Tipped Boars were no joke, and if he encountered a demonic beast version, he'd need every bit of protection he could get.
After a few minutes, the shopkeeper returned, holding a set of light armor in his hands. It was well-crafted, dark leather with faint silver thread running through the seams. The protection array shimmered faintly as the man set it down on the counter. It was a fine piece, much better than Kellan had expected.
"This is the best I have for what you're looking for," the shopkeeper said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. "It's got a minor protection array woven into it—enough to absorb a few hits without weighing you down. But it's not cheap. I'd have to charge you 500 Spirit Stones."
Kellan winced visibly. His eyes widened slightly as the number hit him. "I can't afford that," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and disappointment.
The shopkeeper, however, didn't seem put off by Kellan's reaction. Instead, he smiled faintly and crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. "I figured as much," he said. "But you helped my nephew Shi Yan. He's been struggling ever since the others started bullying him, and I've been worried. I can tell you're a good lad. So, tell you what: I'll let you rent the armor. You can pay me back when you've got the spirit stones."
Kellan blinked in surprise. "You'd really do that?"
The shopkeeper nodded. "I would. Shi Yan's been dealt a rough hand, and I'm grateful you stepped in. Take the armor—consider it a favor. Just make sure you come back safe."
Kellan clenched his fist, his heart swelling with determination. "Thank you," he said, bowing his head slightly. "I'll take good care of it."
With his new armor in hand, Kellan left the shop, ready for the challenges ahead. His thoughts drifted toward the Mystfall Forest, where the Red Tipped Boars roamed. He knew the hunt wouldn't be easy, but he was prepared. With the right gear and a clear goal in mind, Kellan felt his confidence rise.