A burst of laughter erupted, loud and unrestrained. A man with curly hair leaned back, clutching his chest as he wheezed, struggling to catch his breath. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes from sheer amusement. His uniform—a crisp grey with golden plates adorning his shoulders—marked him as someone of high authority.
"I can't believe it!" he gasped between bouts of laughter. "That kid actually beat Dunstan and Viole in the same day—that's unbelievable!"
Seated across from him, another man remained composed. He had a strong, well-built stature, and a scar ran visibly along his neck—a mark of past battles. Though he wore the same grey uniform, it lacked the golden plates, signifying a lower rank.
Theo, Niru's vice-captain, allowed a small, almost imperceptible smirk to form on his lips. There was something in his expression—subtle, but unmistakable.
"At this rate, I'll be crossing paths with that kid soon," Niru chuckled, wiping away the last of his tears as his laughter finally settled.
"Just wait and see," he added with a smirk. "My group's going to accomplish something even bigger than that."
Across from him, Theo remained unamused. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable. "You coddle your group too much," he said bluntly. "They won't last if you keep handing everything to them."
Niru's smirk faltered for a moment as he studied Theo. With a quiet sigh, he pushed himself up from his chair. "Maybe you're right," he admitted. "But they're just kids. I wanted them to have a chance at a real life—not one where they're forced to hunt monsters every day just to survive."
"I disagree with that approach," Theo responded without hesitation.
Niru let out a dry laugh. "Of course you do."
He stretched his arms before turning toward the door. "Anyway, it was nice catching up, but the commander's called for me and the others. I should get going."
Just as he reached for the door handle, Theo's voice stopped him in his tracks. "You've been meeting with the commander a lot lately," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Something's going on. Does this have anything to do with the expedition sent to find the elves?"
Niru exhaled, pausing for a long moment before looking over his shoulder. His smirk was gone, replaced by something heavier, more serious.
"We're at war."
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I crouched behind a tree, surrounded by the dense forest, purposefully keeping myself hidden. The thick foliage provided excellent cover, masking our presence as we prepared for the ambush. Just a few feet away, Victor was also concealed behind a tree, gripping a curved sword in his hand. The weapon wasn't anything particularly flashy—it was about the length of a forearm, simple but efficient.
In contrast, I held two small daggers, one in each hand, their weight familiar in my grip. Above us, perched atop a sturdy branch, was Milio. He had a wooden bow in his hands, his fingers steady as he nocked an arrow, carefully taking aim at our target—a goblin.
In front of us stood a small, green-skinned goblin, no taller than three feet. It was hunched over, carefully gathering herbs with surprising precision. From the way it moved and inspected each plant, it was clear that it had an understanding of which herbs were valuable and which were not. It wasn't just mindlessly foraging—it was making deliberate choices.
As the goblin moved to another patch, continuing its search, I found myself hesitating. Watching it like this, methodically selecting herbs, made it feel… wrong. It didn't seem like some mindless monster, just an ordinary creature going about its life.
For a brief moment, I couldn't shake the thought—maybe we were the real monsters here.
A sharp whizz cut through the air—the unmistakable sound of an arrow being fired. I tensed, gripping my daggers as my pulse quickened. The arrow struck its target, embedding itself deep into the goblin's left arm. A high-pitched, agonized scream erupted from the creature as it collapsed onto the ground, writhing in pain, clawing desperately at the arrow to pull it free.
Victor and I didn't wait. We charged forward, ready to finish the job. Victor led the attack, his curved sword glinting as he closed in. The goblin noticed us immediately, its frantic movements halting as it realized it had no time to flee. Instead, it turned to face us, baring its jagged teeth in a furious snarl. Its yellow eyes burned with hatred as it let out a shrill battle cry. With its left arm rendered useless, it braced itself with its right.
Victor struck first, his sword slashing downward in a swift, brutal arc. The goblin didn't even try to dodge. It let the attack land, allowing its already wounded left arm to take the brunt of the blow. Blood sprayed from the fresh wound, but the creature didn't recoil. Instead, it used the momentum of the strike to lunge at Victor, its sharp teeth snapping wildly.
Victor barely had time to react before the goblin slammed into him, knocking his weapon from his grip. Instinctively, he grabbed hold of the creature with both hands, struggling to keep it at bay. The goblin had no claws—its only weapon was its jagged, yellowed teeth, snapping wildly as it thrashed against Victor's hold.
Its arms flailed uselessly, swiping at Victor in a frantic attempt to break free, but there was no real force behind them. They weren't sharp, weren't meant for slashing or striking. Still, the goblin was relentless, wriggling and twisting with furious desperation, trying to sink its teeth into any exposed part of Victor it could reach.
Victor gritted his teeth, muscles straining as he fought to keep the creature from lunging forward. He held firm, but the goblin was strong—or at least, strong enough to make him struggle. It wasn't giving up. It was fighting for its life.
"Bel!" Victor shouted, straining against the goblin's frenzied assault.
I didn't hesitate.
I rushed in from behind, grabbing hold of the goblin's head. My fingers dug into its coarse, filthy skin as I yanked it backward. With a swift, precise motion, I drove my dagger into its throat.
A wet, choking gurgle escaped the goblin's lips as its body jerked violently in my grasp. A hot spray of blood splattered against my face, making me flinch. The color—red, just like ours—sent a strange, sickening jolt through me.
The goblin struggled, its right hand flailing, desperately pushing against me in a weak attempt to break free. But I didn't let go.
I gritted my teeth, staring into its eyes as I pushed the dagger deeper.
That's when I saw it.
Tears.
The goblin's yellow, rage-filled eyes glistened with moisture, and for the briefest of moments, my grip faltered. My stomach twisted, my breath catching in my throat.
It was crying.
It wasn't just a mindless beast. It felt pain. It felt fear.
But it was too late.
I forced the dagger deeper, silencing whatever plea or final thought it might have had.
The struggling stopped.
Its body slumped.
Its empty, glassy eyes stared up at nothing.
I stumbled back, my breath unsteady as I stared at the goblin. My dagger was still lodged deep in its throat, its body twitching slightly before going still.
For a moment, I just watched.
I had always wondered why some people back in my world said they could never hunt animals—that it was harder than it seemed. Maybe this was why. Every creature, no matter how small, had an instinct to survive. It wasn't just some mindless monster—it fought, struggled, and clung to life just like we did.
Looking at it now, I felt a strange weight settle in my chest.
I felt… sorry for it.
I got up slowly, my eyes still locked onto the lifeless goblin. My mind was clouded, yet a distant notification echoed in my head.
"You have leveled up."
"You have gained a new ability."
I barely processed it.
"Good job, Bel," Victor said, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. "That was a clean kill. Should I handle the tongue and ears, or do you want to do it yourself?"
"Can you do it?" I asked instantly, my voice steadier than I expected. I forced a small smile, trying to mask the emptiness in my mind. I wasn't sure if I had the stomach to start carving up the creature I had just killed.
Victor nodded without hesitation. He grabbed my dagger, yanked it free from the goblin's throat, and, with practiced ease, began slicing off the ears. His expression was unreadable—cold, indifferent, the same as always.
A sudden presence behind me made me flinch slightly.
"Hey, you okay? Your hands are shaking," Milio asked, crouching down beside me.
I blinked, glancing at my hands. He was right. There was a faint tremble I hadn't even noticed.
"Yeah… I'm good," I muttered, balling my fingers into fists.
Victor glanced at me, his expression unreadable as he spoke. "Close your heart to them. The moment you start feeling sorry, you won't last in this line of work. Thankfully, you didn't hesitate—you pushed the dagger in further. That's good."
I gave him a small nod. I knew he was trying to reassure me, to frame my actions as something positive. But even still…
"It was crying," I said quietly.
Victor didn't even pause in his movements. "This is survival, Bel. We need money, and this is how we earn it. Everyone in this world is just trying to survive."
I watched as he pried the goblin's mouth open, preparing to cut out its tongue.
"Hey man, why don't you sit down for a minute?" Milio suggested, his voice filled with genuine concern.
I exhaled and gave a short nod before stepping away. I slumped against the base of a nearby tree, resting my head back against the bark. The smell of blood was thick in the air. I looked down at my hands—stained red. I wiped my face with my sleeve, but I could still feel it clinging to my skin.
My thoughts were scattered.
Right—leveling up.
I needed a distraction.
"I leveled up, didn't I?" The thought struck me like an aftershock. Not only that—I had gained a new ability.
Maybe looking at my stats would help clear my mind, even if just for a moment.
I inhaled deeply.
"Status."
A translucent blue screen materialized before me, its glow faint against the forest's dim light.
Level 2
Name: Beliah Scriv Age:20 Title: [??????] Affinity: Bitter Chill – The Goddess Nyvara (C Rank) Affinity Description: A divine blessing bestowed by Nyvara, the Goddess of Bitter Chill. Nyvara, a cunning and ambitious deity, took interest in this sly boy. She is the twin sister of Ephyahra, the Goddess of Calm Frost. Locked in a bitter rivalry, Nyvara seeks to destroy her sister and ascend to greater Status. Nyvara's intentions are veiled, but she has plans for Beliah, and their paths are destined to cross again. Affinity Abilities: Frost Manipulation , Frozen Vitals Passive Ability: Minor Cold Resistance. Attributes: - Debuff: -
Mmm… it looks like I've unlocked a new ability—Frozen Vitals.
I let out a small sigh. I really wished these abilities came with proper descriptions. How was I supposed to know what this actually did just from the name alone?
As I focused on the words Frozen Vitals, a new screen appeared in front of me.
Affinity Ability: Frozen Vitals
Description: The user is capable of freezing their own bodily fluids at will.
Oh. Well, that was… direct.
Freezing bodily fluids?
Did that mean my blood? Or did it include things like sweat… or spit?
Curious, I raised my right arm and focused, willing it to freeze. The change was almost immediate—I felt the weight in my arm shift, growing denser, heavier. When I touched it, the surface was cold and hard, like solid ice. Lifting it took noticeably more effort.
I let out a small breath, my lips curling into a smirk. Finally—an ability I could actually use in combat.
I needed to get used to it, though. The moment I froze my arm, it became heavier. If I wasn't careful, I could end up slowing myself down. I had to be smart with how I applied this.
Testing further, I focused on freezing different parts of my body—my legs, my fingertips, even my eyes. Each one froze just as effortlessly.
And this wasn't just normal ice. I could tell—it had the same essence as the Bitter Ice I had summoned before. It felt sturdy, unyielding.
A thought struck me. If I start bleeding, could I just freeze my wounds shut? That would be huge. I could stop myself from bleeding out in battle.
Then another thought hit me. If I can freeze my blood… Could I shape it?
Could I create ice knives from my own blood?
Excitement bubbled up in my chest. This was a huge boost to my power.
The best part? Unlike when I created Bitter Ice from normal ice , which took time to manifest, freezing my own fluids was instant—as fast as a thought. As long as I could concentrate, I could make use of this in the middle of a fight.
I clenched my now-frozen fist, feeling the strength in it.
Yeah… this is going to be useful.
"You leveled up, didn't you? Lucky you.," Milio huffed, crossing his arms with an exaggerated pout.
"Yeah, looks like killing really does grant you a level," I replied, still processing the reality of it.
Victor finished packing the goblin's ears and tongue into a bag, tying it securely before slinging it over his shoulder. "Let's get moving. If we hurry, we can take on another job "
We all nodded in agreement and began making our way back toward the outer city.
Currently, we were in a place called Dead Forest—a dense, eerie woodland located just south of the outer city. It was about a thirty-minute walk back, though we could have taken a carriage to get there faster. But we all agreed that saving money was more important, so we opted to walk.
To be honest? I enjoyed the walks.
They gave me, Milio, and Victor time to talk—not just about what we could improve in combat, but sometimes even about our plans for the future. Milio, unsurprisingly, still just wanted to go back home. That much hadn't changed.
It had been two days since the fight at the bar. The first day was rough—I spent most of it dealing with a hangover. After that, we decided to use the time wisely and went shopping for our equipment.
Ever since the fight in the bar with Dunstan, my reputation had skyrocketed.
Before that night, people would mock me when they called me "Cheater." But now? People shook my hand when I walked past. Some even looked at me with admiration.
To be honest, I loved the attention.
I couldn't stop smiling whenever someone treated me like some kind of new legend in the making. Of course, it had only been one day—but hey, I wasn't complaining.
Milio, on the other hand? Not thrilled.
He grumbled about how I was getting all the glory, though he didn't seem genuinely upset. More like… annoyed that he wasn't sharing in the fame.
Thankfully, thanks to Victor, I hadn't completely blown through the money we won from Dunstan.
While I was busy throwing around free drinks, Victor had the foresight to quietly set aside 10 silver from the pouch before I wasted it all. He didn't seem particularly annoyed about the money I had thrown away either—almost like he enjoyed the night, too.
That said, the next morning, he did give us a lecture about how alcohol destroys your body and how we should never drink again.
And honestly? After experiencing that hangover, I vowed never to drink again.
With the remaining 10 silver, we agreed to spend it on better equipment—something all of us desperately needed if we were going to take our jobs seriously.
That day we went went shopping.
Originally, I had wanted to use a bow, but Milio insisted that he wanted to use one since, in his words, he was scared to go face to face.
So, I compromised and chose a pair of daggers instead.
Victor, on the other hand, went with a curved sword.
When I asked him why, he simply replied, "It's the most practical and cost-effective option."
I just nodded like I understood what that meant.
As we stepped into the guild, a familiar murmur rippled through the crowd. I couldn't help but smirk. I tried to keep a straight face, but the grin kept creeping back.
"Hey, isn't that the guy?"
"Yeah, the one who knocked out Dunstan in one punch."
"That's the famous cheater."
Milio, standing beside me, shot me a deadpan look. "It's not fair. I knocked out a third-class hunter too. Why doesn't anyone talk about me?"
Victor, unfazed by the attention, made his way to the receptionist to collect our reward. As promised, we received exactly 2 silver. If we split it evenly, that would be 33 copper each—not the best payout, but a decent start. If we took on another job, we could rack up at least 1 more silver. At the moment, each of us had around 10 silver and 33 copper.
As we moved toward the job board, scanning for another quest, we were suddenly approached by a young man who looked to be around my age. He had short black hair and wore a light metal chest plate over leather pants. Behind him stood a blonde-haired girl clad in brown leather armor, waiting quietly.
The young man hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward. "I heard you beat Dunstan in one punch, sir. Is that true?"
Without missing a beat, I met his gaze and confidently said, "Yes, it is."
He exchanged glances with the girl beside him, and after a silent nod between them, he turned back to me.
"Would it be alright if we asked for your help?"
Well, this just got interesting.