Land of Mirriam

In a tavern lay near the entrance of a dungeon, Percival caught sight of the hero and his companions. With a glint of recognition in his eyes, Percival approached, his steps echoing softly on the worn wooden floor.

After feeling their presence, Percival knew it was the hero’s party.

“Sir hero, what fortune to find you here,” Percival greeted, his voice tinged with relief. The hero nodded his head in acknowledgment, his weary party of three seeking respite after their latest dive into the depths of the dungeon. “If you have a moment, might I speak with you?” Percival continued.

The town they were staying in is called Beson, situated southwest of the kingdom of Elford, and is still considered a part of Elford’s lands. This town serves as a hub for adventurers delving into the dungeon, the very same dungeon the hero was assigned to.

Beson is just 10 years younger than the Elford Kingdom. It is your typical town, complete with walls, gates, and stone structures. The marketplace bustles with activity, offering an array of weapons and rations tailored for adventurers.

At the heart of the town, one can find the standard Merchant’s Guild and Adventurer’s Guild. These guilds are prominently located in the middle of Beson and can be easily spotted upon entering the gates of the wall.

The hero was carrying a spear, wore his jumpers that was made out of monster leather, a head band on his head and the spiky hair made him stand out. Two of his party members seemed to be mages, judging by the staffs they were holding.

One was dressed in light greenish clothes that was akin to a poncho, his hair was well kept in a letter of M, he was handsome a kind of a pretty boy. Female that was on the tavern would immediately notice him.

The last party member was a tall man with Black Hood, his face displayed a much older grit probably because of stress.

“Of course… can I take a bath first?” he said, scratching his head.

“Sir hero, I will be submitting our spoils in the adventurers guild; I’ll just follow you after,” one of his party members said. It was the black cloak with a small staff hanging on his waist.

“Of course. How about you, Raphael?” Raphael was a green-haired young man, probably the youngest of the three of them. His poncho fluttered but his face was clearly on a diminished state.

“I’ll eat first… I’m beat,” he said, his face deathly pale.

<--->

It was a middle-class to upper-class type of inn. Even though he was the hero, it seemed that they took care of their expenses. The inn was an extension of a more famous inn in the central continent.

They were currently in the hero’s room, which was a bit large since it housed the three of the party.

“My name is Paramour; they call me the Searing Fire… how can I help you?” Paramour introduced. Percival and Simon were inside the hero’s room. The hero was drying his hair.

Simon noticed the awkwardness after the hero introduced that he was called the Searing Fire. “Oh! Of course, you are from the real frontier! Well, the guys in the central love it when we announce our call names. Sorry!” the hero broke the ice.

Percival sighed. “I will get straight to the point…”

…

…”So, this next winter?” The hero stroked his chin thoughtfully. Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a vibrant entrance.

“Hello there! Ah, I’m feeling rejuvenated and refreshed! Back to life and full of vigor! Para-mi! What did I miss?” Raphael's presence was unmistakable, radiating with newfound vitality.

…

“What? A siege... right?” Raphael said.

“Yes... we haven’t properly ventured outside the wall. We cannot confirm their origin, and they are intelligent enough to retrieve their comrades' corpses-” there was a frustrating tone on Percival’s voice “-preventing us from gaining any information from them.” The monster siege on the northern wall had been ongoing for a long time, but it has never been this intense in recent years.

“You call them Spike, right?” Paramour said, standing up. He approached closer to Percival.

“I can’t imagine it... a black tiger-like creature that has six legs, six tails that shoot out corrosive spikes... what the heck?” Raphael verbalized as he tried to imagine how it would.

“I’m a hero... I will lend you my help... but I need to finish my quest here.” The hero’s duty is simple: they do not fight in human wars; rather, they are the ones who cull the dungeons to prevent an overflow. He was close enough to hand out his hands to Percival.

“Thank you so much... that gives me peace of mind,” Percival bowed then shook the hero’s hands.

“Wait, don’t do that! My successor actually did a really good job on his time. We don’t have that much going on right now because of him,” the hero said finishing the hand shake. He then took his spear. “Well, there is a training area next to this tavern. I have been fighting with monsters for a long time, and I would like to fight with a human once in a while.”

The hero wanted to test his strength against the people who actually lived in the frontier. Some stories said that life there is harsh... fighting monsters was a natural event, unlike in the central and the continents around it, where dungeons were the only place you can find monsters.

“Then it will be a pleasure,” Percival menacingly smiled.

<--->

The hero of the era was the stuff of legends. From the tales of his exploits to the stories of his glories, even his weapons had their own stories. Percival hailed from the north; he would not back down from an honest challenge. There was a small open area outside the inn.

Spectators began to watch as the two started swinging at each other. The screams and clashing of their weapons could be heard even by the customers eating inside the tavern. Simon stood on the side, continuously helping himself to sandwiches since the hero said he would pay.

Although the weakness of a spear was the axe, Paramour, the hero, skillfully maneuvered his spear.

“So this is the spear made out of the branch of the tree of life,” Percival was amazed as the spear kept changing its form, resembling a bamboo dancing in the wind.

The tip was covered with leather clothes so that it would not cause a wound.

“You are good too; your swings are deadly!” The two suddenly stopped and bowed to each other.

Paramour quickly noticed the excited glare of Simon. “You want to try, boy?” the hero smiled and invited Simon.

He set down his belongings and finish off his sandwich before drawing forth a formidable sword crafted from fins.

“That sword is certainly strange,” remarked Raphael, observing from the sidelines.

“Come at me… give me your best shot…” the hero shot a taunt at the boy and he grinned, wiping his mouth.

The duel commenced. To Paramour, the boy fought in an unorthodox manner... Simon was merely toying with him, which bruised Paramour's pride. Rarely did someone show mercy in combat with him, yet the boy seemed to do so effortlessly. Though skilled with the blade, Paramour wanted to spice things up.

“How about I pay for your dinner today if you win? Hmm?” The change in mood was perceivable among the onlookers, yet Paramour maintained his smile.

Percival facepalmed, recalling both the kid's trainer and his fervent love for food. Having spent time with Simon, he knew food ranked above all else in the boy's heart.

“Hey Simon, this is just a mock…” Before Percival could finish, Simon launched himself straight at the hero, his determination clear.

The hero quickly intercepted at the right moment as soon as Simon entered his range, the spear swept down.

Simon dodged, but the hero was clearly waiting for it. He bent the spear's body, causing the entire weapon to curve in another direction. Although the spear tip seemed to follow through Simon, it was a feint. Simon, having observed earlier that the spear only bent in one direction, swiftly moved without hesitation in another direction. The hero was visibly surprised.

“Paramour!!!” Raphael's voice echoed with concern, he was worried for his friend.

There was no way he could dodge the attack aimed at his right torso. The sound of Simon’s sword whipping through the air was horrifying.

“Really?”

Paramour then released his left hand, which gripped the other end of the spear blade, now bent. The normal spring of the wood snapped back into its original shape, creating a powerful force. Simon saw it coming and attempted to defend himself with the hilt of his sword, but the wooden part of his sword broke upon impact.

The blunted side of the spear struck him on his right cheek, sending the child tumbling to the ground.

“Oh shit!!! Sorry!!! Call Pam! I might have shaken his head or something!” Percival and Raphael were visibly shocked by the incident. If Simon weren't a normal child, his neck might have snapped from the force.

“Paramour, you dumb ass!! You know how hard that spear snaps back!!” Raphael complained, torn between wanting to pick up Simon and fearing for the boy's safety. (His neck might be broken)

<--->

Simon woke up, finding himself already lying on the bed. His broken sword lay nearby. A strange numbness tingled in his jaw, hinting at a possible break. He felt a pang of sadness realizing he had only three water blades left, but what saddened him more was the realization that there would be no free dinner tonight.

Still, Simon couldn't shake the feeling that his neck might be broken. However, he brushed it off, feeling surprisingly okay.

Glancing out the window, he saw that it was already nighttime, and hunger gnawed at his stomach.

Descending from the second floor of the inn, Simon was met with applause and cheers from the people below. Some whistled, but most clapped enthusiastically.

Gathered at the tables of the inn, the party of the hero sat alongside the imposing figure of the large northerner, all occupying a single table.

Suddenly, the hero approached Simon, attempting to hug him. “I’m sorry!! I messed up!! But you were actually going to slash the hell out of me!!” There was a distinct smell of alcohol on him. Simon pushed the hero away.

“It's okay, I've been trained to fight with a broken shoulder and knee sometimes,” Simon replied. Percival actually believed him; it was plausible given the old man he knew. He felt a twinge of pity but also recognized Simon's potential as a valuable asset.

“I’m really sorry!” the hero begged for mercy.

“I would still like to spar properly sometime, though,” Simon meant it, and the crowd fell silent.

“Percii his a different beast oh mam more meat please and a lager!!!” it was Raphael and unlike the hero, he could actually hold his alcohol.

“I’m really sorry for his actions; he's just a bad drunk,” the black hood said to the innkeeper, who simply shrugged it off.

“So he's the keeper of you two. Lucky you!” Percival remarked to Raphael, who continued to eat his favorite skewers, unfazed.

<--->

A few days later...

The merry party of Percival and the hero found themselves outside the town’s gate, with Paramour explaining them to where they could recruit more adventurers to join their cause.

“Then we'll be on our way now, hah! Back to the dungeons again,” Paramour said, letting out a big sigh. The two parties had stayed together at the inn for a few days, growing closer to the point where Simon felt comfortable with their presence.

“Oh, how will we traverse the Dark Forest?” Raphael suddenly asked.

“The forest folk will guide you, just please don’t disturb their forest,” Simon replied, explaining the route they had taken to save time. He showed Raphael a piece of a knife.

“I totally forgot... Blow on this leaf, and they will come to you. Then show this knife as proof,” Simon activated its special effect, and a gentle breeze emerged.

“Oh! Amazing! Give it to me!” Raphael eagerly took it.

<--->

“Wind Blade!” Raphael merrily played with his newfound toy, channeling magic into the small knife and effortlessly creating wind blades with each swing. It was remarkably convenient.

In annoyance, the black hood took it from him. “Don’t fling wind blades around; this is a common road!” he warned Raphael as they walked the path west back to the dungeon.

The black hood then curiously examined the small knife, realizing it was some part of a monster of sorts. “How do you activate the magic on it?” he asked.

Raphael snorted as if mocking him. “Just tell me, you clown!” the black hood raised his voice a little.

“Pour some magic on it… but it's not that simple,” Paramour answered. The black hood tried but nothing happened.

“Only those with good compatibility with wind magic can do it!” Raphael confirmed.

“But… he was using a water blade when you sparred yesterday,” the black hood said, finally realizing Simon's compatibility with wind and water elements.

“But he doesn’t use spells; it's all his physical abilities. That boy is ridiculously strong,” Paramour said, surprising the black hood.

“You didn’t activate magic enchantment when he attacked you in your first spar; that's why I warned you,” Raphael said, showing his expertise in such matters.

The two stared at Raphael. Didn't he call Paramour's name with a worried tone?

“In terms of raw physicality and skill, he is leagues above me. I wouldn’t stand a chance if I weren’t using this spear… that kid is a monster,” Paramour said. The first spar and the second spar were good experiences for him.

“I want to spar with that kid more. Let’s get to work! Elford would pay us more if we pushed the borders of the dungeon farther! I’m going to be a billionaire!” Paramour said excitedly, getting pumped up.

“Oh, I actually donated some of the money we got to the orphanage in the town. They have some big eaters there… especially that girl Sandy, one big girl,” the Black Hood said, causing Paramour to almost fall down.

“What?!” Raphael and Paramour simultaneously exclaimed.

<--->

Percival and Simon continued south, riding in a cart and lying down on a stack of hay. It was raining, so they covered themselves with their water-resistant cloaks.

“What do you think of the hero?” Simon, usually silent, initiated the conversation.

“He is a good man; he will probably honor his words,” Percival replied.

Simon wasn't asking for that reason. It was the first time he wanted to spar with someone again since the old man passed away.

During one of their sparring sessions, when he caught the hero off guard, the hero started using some kind of magic and became stronger.

It was probably enchantment magic, the thing the old man had told him to learn. The world is still vast and unknown, Simon smirked as he enjoyed the chilly rain at the back of the cart.