In a certain forest pathway, a young man with dark, messy hair and brown eyes paused to examine a sign jutting from the ground.
The wooden sign was worn, its edges chipped, with letters scrawled across its surface in a script, unlike any language from Earth. Yet, as Ephraim stared at it, the meaning seemed to settle in his mind without conscious effort—almost as though the words reshaped themselves into something familiar. It seemed to name a place, and from the simple design, he inferred it marked the path to a small human settlement.
Seeing the sign sparked a flicker of excitement in him, but he quickly tempered it with caution. Just because humans lived here didn't mean they would be friendly—trust was something he couldn't afford in an unknown world. If anything, he knew humans could harbor some of the darkest intentions.
Ephraim took a step back, still eyeing the sign thoughtfully. He had been following the manmade path he'd found in the forest, and now, with a hint of direction in front of him, he weighed his options. Should he press forward and seek out this settlement, or should he stay hidden, observing from afar?
Ephraim's journey to this point had been far from smooth. Along the way, he'd encountered several creatures lurking in the forest, but his caution had allowed him to avoid most confrontations. In the few encounters he couldn't evade, he managed to survive by staying alert and relying on his instincts.
One of these encounters involved a snake-like creature that had attempted to ambush him. Ephraim's heart had nearly stopped when he noticed the glint of its scales as it lunged at him. But by sheer luck and timing, his blade had already been in hand, and he'd struck out just as the creature sprang forward. The strike found its mark, ending the threat and awarding him his first true victory in this unfamiliar world.
Thanks to that and a few other close calls, Ephraim had leveled up twice, gaining four assignable stat points. After some thought, he had allocated three points to agility and one to strength, noticing a subtle but noticeable enhancement in his movements.
He felt lighter on his feet, his body more responsive, like it was slowly adjusting to the physical demands of this strange world. The slight increase in strength also gave him a touch more confidence.
With his new stats, his status page looked as follows:
[Name: Ephraim]
[Level: 3]
[Class: None]
[Race: Human]
[Title: None]
HP: 100
MP: None
Sanity: 85% (Stable)
Strength: 4
Agility: 8
Intelligence: 4
Endurance: 3
Luck: 3
Skills: Original Sin (Incomplete)
As Ephraim continued down the path, he took a moment to process the changes he felt in himself. The boost in agility made his strides feel lighter, each step more responsive than before.
His added strength lent a steady firmness to his grip on the weapon at his side. The improvements were minor but noticeable, giving him a small surge of confidence. In a world as unpredictable as this, even the smallest edge could be the difference between survival and disaster.
Strength and agility were straightforward enough to understand, but intelligence was another story. 'What would happen if I put points into intelligence?' he wondered, glancing at his status page.
'Would it unlock mana at a certain level? Or maybe make me… smarter?' He frowned at the thought, feeling no guarantee it would have immediate benefits he could sense.
"Better to assign points to agility and strength for now," he murmured, eyes scanning the trees on either side of the path. Those were the stats he could count on in a fight, after all.
Back to the current situation, it didn't take Ephraim long to make a decision. There was only one path ahead, and whether he encountered people with ill intentions or potential allies, he had little choice but to keep moving forward.
Whatever action I'll take depends on the people I meet, he thought, tightening his grip on his blade. If I'm unlucky enough to meet something I can't handle… then so be it. He let out a soft, humorless laugh, followed by a sigh, both steeling himself and accepting the risks.
With a last glance at the weathered sign, Ephraim stepped forward along the forest path toward the town that lay beyond.
After walking for about a quarter of an hour, Ephraim finally arrived at the edge of a small town. What greeted him was a solid stone wall towering nine feet high, with a wooden gate reinforced by steel that stood around six feet. Guarding the entrance were three men, each with a formidable presence, their eyes sharp and alert.
Ephraim's gaze settled on the guard who seemed the strongest of the three, and he blinked in mild surprise—he could see the guard's stats. It dawned on him that this might be another hidden benefit from the mysterious book he carried.
In his mind, he began referring to it as the "Book of Sinners," since it had granted him the skill "Original Sin," and because the word "sinner" had been the only text he could initially read from its pages. This strange ability to view others' stats only deepened the mystery around it.
With a steadying breath, Ephraim prepared to approach, keeping his caution intact.
He didn't head directly to the guards. Instead, he joined the line of people waiting to enter, positioning himself at the back. Taking a quick look around, he noticed a few others waiting—some seemed like locals, while others were travelers from elsewhere.
Ephraim decided it was best to gather information from those in front of him. No matter how trivial the details might seem, any bit of knowledge could be valuable. After all, he was still new to this world and didn't want to step into the town entirely blind.
As the line moved forward, he leaned toward the person in front of him, a middle-aged man with a weathered face and a relaxed stance. "Excuse me," Ephraim said, trying to keep his tone polite but casual. "I'm a traveler passing through. Could you tell me a bit about this town?"
The man looked at him, raising a brow but then shrugging in a friendly manner. "You're in luck, then. This here's Yornstead, not too big, but it's a safe place to rest. Mostly merchants and some local craftspeople. Just don't go wandering around without watching your coin pouch," he added with a grin.
Hearing the warning from the man in front of him, Ephraim instinctively patted his pouch, feeling the small weight of his remaining coins. It wasn't much, but it was all he had, and losing it now would be disastrous.
"Thanks for the tip," he replied, giving the man a slight nod of appreciation. He reminded himself to stay alert—pickpockets in a bustling town like this could slip by easily, especially when he didn't know the lay of the land.
As he drew closer to the town gate, he took a moment to scan his surroundings. The guards seemed relaxed but attentive, their gazes shifting over each newcomer with practiced ease.
They were well-equipped and alert enough to be formidable against small threats. Ephraim reminded himself that they'd also have their eyes on people like him—strangers without a known background. He'd have to be careful about how he conducted himself inside.
The line thinned, and soon enough, Ephraim was at the front. One of the guards held out a hand to stop him. "Purpose of your visit?" the guard asked, his tone neutral but direct.
Ephraim took a steady breath and gave a slight nod. "Just passing through, hoping to rest up and gather some supplies."
Since he'd decided to go into town, he'd anticipated a few questions at the gate and had prepared his answers to avoid raising suspicion. The guard studied him for a moment, his eyes flicking over Ephraim's travel-worn clothes and modest gear before giving a nod.
"Don't cause any trouble," the guard warned, stepping aside.
Ephraim nodded in return. Just before stepping forward, he turned back to the guard. "One more thing—could you point me toward the nearest inn?"
The guard's expression softened slightly as if the question made Ephraim seem less of a potential problem. He jerked his thumb down the main road. "Head straight until you reach the market square. There'll be a sign on your left for the 'Rested Hoof.' Decent place, fair prices."
"Thanks," Ephraim replied, taking in the directions. With one last glance at the guard, he walked through the gates and into the town.
Inside, the street was a blend of cobblestone and packed earth, winding between closely set buildings with wooden beams and stone foundations.
As he made his way to the inn, Ephraim couldn't help but slow his pace, taking in the sights and sounds of the town. He passed by a small, rugged building with an open front where the clang of metal against metal echoed—clearly a smithy. The walls were lined with racks holding swords, axes, and armor pieces, each glinting with a recently polished sheen. The blacksmith, a burly man with soot-stained arms, was hard at work, hammering what looked like the blade of a dagger with practiced precision.
Next door, a shop caught Ephraim's eye with shelves full of colorful glass bottles arranged in neat rows by the window. Potions of all colors, from deep crimson to bright emerald, sparkled in the sunlight, some emitting a faint glow. The shopkeeper, an older woman in a deep blue cloak, was carefully stacking bottles, casting a brief glance his way before returning to her task.
Other buildings lined the street, but their signs or displays didn't make their purpose immediately clear. He noted a few with faded wooden signs hanging above the doors, symbols, and letters he was still unfamiliar with despite his mysterious ability to understand the language.
Not long after, Ephraim arrived at the inn, a modest building with a wooden sign creaking above the entrance. He took a moment to scan his surroundings, observing the other travelers and locals milling about. The inn seemed cozy but bustling, with patrons coming in and out, carrying on animated conversations and clinking tankards of ale.
Stepping inside, he was greeted by the warm scent of woodsmoke and cooked meals—a reminder that, despite everything he'd faced so far, there were still places of comfort here. The innkeeper, a sturdy woman with a welcoming but sharp gaze, noticed him immediately.
"Looking for a room?" she asked, her tone brisk but polite.
Ephraim nodded, reaching for his pouch carefully, still mindful of the pickpocket warning. "Yes, just for the night. How much?"
After a brief exchange of coins, the innkeeper handed him a key and gestured toward the stairs. "Upstairs, third door on the left. Supper's an extra coin if you want it."
"Thanks," he replied, pocketing the key and making his way toward his room.
As he climbed the stairs, Ephraim felt a mixture of anticipation and relief. Finally, he had a moment to himself, a chance to regroup and plan his next steps without the ever-present anxiety of the unknown.
Once he entered his room, he shut the door, leaning back against it with a sigh. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt a semblance of security—fragile, perhaps, but enough for now.