---
The dirt road out of Oakhaven was quiet in the early morning.
Too quiet.
Ren walked a few steps behind his father, the straps of the small pack biting into his thin shoulders. It wasn't heavy, but to a six-year-old body, every step felt longer than it should. The forest loomed on both sides of the road, tall trees casting stretched shadows across the path like reaching fingers.
He could have said no.
The thought lingered in his mind as his sandals scraped against the dirt. When his mother had begged his father to take him allog at least to cheer him up. He had hesitated—only for a heartbeat but remembering the training he has done the forest using the strong tree and the memory of yesterday still burned fresh in his chest: the laughter, the shove, the way he'd hit the ground while pretending it didn't hurt.
Weak.
That word had followed him all night.
If he stayed behind, if he hid every time the road looked dangerous, then nothing would ever change. He would grow older, maybe taller—but he would stay the same inside. Small. Powerless.
So he had nodded.
Ren clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms. This wasn't bravery. It was stubbornness. A quiet refusal to remain what everyone thought he was.
The wind shifted.
Leaves rustled—not with the lazy sound of morning, but sharply, urgently. Ren's steps slowed as a chill crept up his spine, something instinctive and unfamiliar tightening in his chest.
His father stopped.
Before Ren could speak, something moved in the undergrowth to their left.
The road leading away from Oakhaven felt unfamiliar almost immediately.
It was wider than the village paths Ren knew, scarred by wagon tracks and old hoofprints, cutting through fields of tall grass that swayed like a living sea. The air was quieter here—not peaceful, but restrained, as if the land itself was holding its breath.
Ren sat beside his father on the wooden cart, legs dangling, hands folded neatly in his lap. To anyone watching, he was a tired child enjoying a rare trip. Inside, his adult mind was alert, running calculations and scanning the surroundings with quiet intensity.
Kael drove with steady hands, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. The short sword at his waist was no ornament; Ren had seen his father use it once before, long ago, against a wild beast threatening the village.
That memory lingered now.
"Stay close," Kael said calmly. "And don't lean too far off the cart."
Ren nodded. "Yes, Father."
His Appraisal flickered silently as his gaze drifted toward the tall grass lining the road.
---
The Shape of an Ambush
It started as a sensation—wrongness.
Ren focused.
Goblin (Lesser)
Condition: Hungry
Threat Level: Low
Notes: Ambush predator. Prefers numbers.
Another.
Then another.
Ren's breath slowed.
Three Lesser Goblins.
Then—
His heart skipped.
Goblin (Hobgoblin Variant)
Rank: Elite
Condition: Healthy
Threat Level: Moderate
Notes: Commands lesser goblins. Enhanced strength and intelligence.
Ren's fingers curled slightly.
So that's how goblins worked.
From the Appraisal data and instinct alone, Ren pieced together the hierarchy:
Lesser Goblins – Weak, fast, cowardly alone
Hobgoblins – Leaders, stronger, smarter
Higher variants likely existed… and were deadly
Ren leaned toward Kael.
"Father," he whispered. "I think something's hiding in the grass."
Kael didn't look at him.
But his hand shifted closer to his sword.
---
The First Strike
The ambush came without warning.
A sharp, screeching cry split the air as three goblins burst from the grass, crude blades raised, yellow eyes gleaming with hunger. They were small, barely taller than Ren, but quick and vicious.
Kael yanked the reins.
"Hold tight!"
Steel flashed.
The first goblin leapt—and died midair, Kael's blade slicing cleanly through its neck.
The second scrambled onto the cart.
Ren reacted instantly.
He didn't shout.
Didn't cast anything flashy.
He released a compressed burst of Wind, slamming into the goblin's side.
The creature shrieked as it was flung off the cart, crashing headfirst into the rocks beside the road.
The third goblin lunged.
Kael killed it with a downward strike.
Silence followed.
Too sudden.
Too clean.
Ren's stomach tightened.
"It's not finished," he said quietly.
---
The Hobgoblin Steps Forward
The grass parted.
Something larger emerged.
The hobgoblin stood taller than the others by nearly half a head, its body thick with muscle. Crude armor hung from its shoulders, and an iron club rested casually in its hand. Its eyes were sharp—not feral, but calculating.
It didn't scream.
It didn't rush.
It assessed.
Kael swallowed. "A hobgoblin…"
Ren's Appraisal flared again.
Hobgoblin (Elite)
Durability: High
Strength: Above Human Average
Weakness: Fire (Reduced Effectiveness)
This wasn't something his father could overpower easily.
The hobgoblin charged.
---
A Hard Fight
Kael met it head-on.
Steel rang against iron.
The impact sent Kael skidding backward, boots digging into the dirt. The hobgoblin followed, swinging its club with terrifying force.
Ren's heart hammered.
He couldn't end this instantly.
That would raise too many questions.
So he supported.
Subtly.
He activated Cleanse, targeting Kael's arm where the club had grazed him. The spell was weak—but it slowed bleeding and numbed pain.
Then Wind.
Not blasts.
Disruptions.
Dust kicked up into the hobgoblin's eyes. Uneven footing. Slight missteps.
Kael landed a shallow cut across its thigh.
The hobgoblin roared and swung harder.
Ren felt his mana draining.
This was nothing like training.
This was real.
The hobgoblin knocked Kael aside, sending him crashing into the dirt.
Ren's breath caught.
No more restraint.
He raised his hand.
Not a large Fireball.
A compressed one.
Dense. Focused.
He aimed at the ground beneath the hobgoblin.
WHOOM!
Flame and dirt exploded upward, engulfing its legs.
The hobgoblin screamed.
Kael surged forward and drove his sword through its throat.
The body collapsed.
Dead.
---
After the Blood
Ren dropped to his knees, gasping.
His mana was nearly empty.
Kael rushed to him.
"Ren! Are you hurt?"
Ren shook his head, clutching Kael's sleeve. "I was scared," he admitted quietly. "I didn't think. I just… moved."
Kael pulled him into a tight embrace, shaking slightly.
"…You did well," he said finally.
They burned the bodies and moved on quickly.
Neither spoke for a long time.
---
The Gates of Silverstream
By dusk, the road widened.
Stone walls rose ahead, tall and imposing, lanterns glowing warmly along the gate.
Silverstream.
Ren stared at the city.
He had faced monsters.
He had shed blood.
And he had survived.
But the road had taught him something important:
Power alone wasn't enough.
He needed knowledge.
Structure.
Access.
Silverstream promised all three.
And Ren intended to claim them.
---