The sun dipped low over the barren Westland, its fiery hues casting long shadows over the desolate terrain. Kale and the hermit came to a halt beneath a massive rock formation that jutted out of the cracked earth like a sentinel. The rock offered some shelter from the chilling winds of the encroaching night.
Kale, panting lightly, glanced around and took in his surroundings. The land was a mosaic of jagged rocks and sparse vegetation, the occasional skeletal tree stretching its twisted branches toward the sky. In the distance, the faint howls of unknown creatures echoed, sending a shiver down his spine.
"This place looks… haunted," Kale muttered under his breath.
The hermit, unbothered by the eerie atmosphere, chuckled softly. "Haunted? No, boy. This land is alive. The Westland breathes, whispers, and watches. You must learn to listen."
"Listen to what? The wind carrying monster howls?" Kale grumbled but kept his voice low, not wanting to provoke anything lurking in the dark.
The hermit paid no attention to Kale's sarcasm. Instead, he began gathering dry twigs and leaves. "Make yourself useful and find more wood. Tonight will be cold."
The flames crackled merrily as the hermit and Kale settled under the rock. Shadows danced across the jagged stone walls, creating an almost hypnotic display. Kale hugged his knees, his eyes darting nervously into the darkness beyond the firelight.
"You know how to cook, boy?" the hermit asked, poking at the fire with a stick.
Kale nodded, a little surprised at the question. "I… yeah. My sister left for the capital a while ago, so I've been managing on my own."
The hermit's lips curled into a faint smile. "Good. You'll cook for us tonight. It's part of your training."
Kale blinked, confused. "Training? How is cooking going to help me fight monsters or learn techniques?"
The hermit's smile widened into a grin, his tone becoming cryptic. "Everything is training if you know how to look at it."
Reluctantly, Kale took the meagre supplies they had and began preparing a simple meal. He cooked a basic stew using some desert fruits and roots the hermit had foraged earlier. As they ate in silence, Kale found himself calming down slightly. The warmth of the fire and the food brought a brief moment of comfort amidst the harsh environment.
As they finished their meal, the hermit leaned back against the rock and closed his eyes. "Dangerous beasts hunt at night. You'll keep watch."
Kale nearly choked on the last bite of his stew. "What? Me? Alone? Shouldn't we take turns?"
The hermit opened one eye and gave Kale a pointed look. "You owe your life to me, boy. Consider this repayment. Or…" He paused dramatically. "Think of it as training."
Kale sighed, biting back his retort. He reluctantly agreed, reasoning that the hermit had saved him and deserved his respect. Armed with a stick and a few rocks, he positioned himself near the fire, his senses on high alert.
The night deepened, and with it came the haunting symphony of the Westland. Howls, growls, and strange chirping sounds echoed in the still air. Kale's heart raced as he imagined glowing eyes staring at him from the shadows.
Despite his best efforts, exhaustion crept in. His eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute. Eventually, he slumped against the rock, succumbing to sleep.
Unbeknownst to Kale, the hermit had never truly slept. He sat silently, watching the boy with an unreadable expression.
"So much fear and doubt," the hermit mused, his eyes glinting in the firelight. "Yet, that blank potential… It's been years since I've seen such a thing. The system may try to control us, but this boy…"
He stood and walked over to Kale, who was now snoring softly. The hermit crouched down, studying the boy's face.
"You may be the key to changing everything," he thought. "Or perhaps the world will break you like it has so many others. Only time will tell."
Next morning, Kale woke to the sight of the hermit sitting cross-legged, staring at him with a faint smile.
"Good, you're up. Your real training starts today," the hermit announced.
Kale sat up quickly, excitement lighting up his face. "Finally! What are we doing? Fighting? Techniques? Magic?"
The hermit smirked. "First, you'll collect firewood."
Kale blinked, confused. "Firewood? But I thought—"
"Then," the hermit continued, ignoring him, "you'll fetch water from the oasis to the west and gather desert fruits. We'll need food for tonight."
"Wait, this isn't training! This is… chores!" Kale protested.
The hermit's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Chores? Oh no, boy. This is survival. If you can't manage the basics, you'll never handle the advanced."
Grumbling under his breath, Kale set off to complete the tasks.
The oasis was further than Kale had anticipated, and the journey was fraught with challenges. He encountered low-ranking monsters like sand lizards and burrowing rats. One particularly aggressive lizard charged at him, forcing Kale to drop the water pot and run for his life.
By the time he returned to the camp, drenched in sweat and covered in dust, the hermit was lounging near the fire, whistling a cheerful tune.
"Good work, boy," the hermit said with a grin. "You're learning."
"Learning what? How to run from lizards?" Kale snapped, his frustration boiling over. "I thought you were going to teach me how to fight!"
The hermit's expression turned serious. "Patience, Kale. Strength isn't built in a day, nor is wisdom. Every task you've done today has prepared you in ways you don't yet understand."
That evening, as the fire crackled once more, the hermit finally relented. "Now, we'll begin your training."
Kale's eyes lit up with hope. "Really?"
The hermit nodded. "I'll teach you a basic striking technique. It temporarily increases your strength. Watch closely."
Standing, the hermit demonstrated the technique with a fluid motion. His fist glowed faintly as it struck the air, creating a sharp gust.
"This is the foundation. Practise it 1,000 times," the hermit instructed.
Kale's jaw dropped. "A thousand? Are you serious?"
"Do you want strength or not?"
Grumbling but determined, Kale began practising the punch. Over and over, he struck the air, his muscles aching with each repetition.
Hours passed, and Kale's body screamed in protest. He was on the verge of giving up when, suddenly, a reddish glow enveloped his fist. With his next punch, the air seemed to crackle, and a surge of strength coursed through him.
Panting, Kale stared at his hand in disbelief. "I… I did it."
The hermit, who had been casually eating nearby, gave a satisfied nod. "Good. That's only the beginning."
Kale looked at him, a mixture of exhaustion and determination in his eyes. "I'll do whatever it takes. Teach me more."
The hermit's smile returned, but this time, it held a hint of pride. "Then let's see if you're truly ready for the path ahead."