One short sword, one set of leather armor, 10 black bread loaves, two water skins already filled with water, two jars of wound ointment, five torches, one piece of flint, one rope, and the herbal pouch the general store owner had given him.
In his money pouch, he had 8 silver and 82 copper left, minus the 71 copper he had just spent, leaving him with 8 silver and 11 copper. That would serve as emergency funds. Even if he ended up fleeing back in disgrace, at least he would still have a chance to start over. So unless it was absolutely necessary, he could not touch that money.
Wakasha picked up the leather armor and awkwardly put it on.
It was not especially heavy, but it felt a little tight once worn, clinging to his thin body. It restricted his movements somewhat, but it also gave him a very real sense of security.
Then he picked up the short sword, gripped the hilt, and tried swinging it a few times. At first, the motion felt awkward, but after a few swings he gradually found a bit of rhythm. His strikes lacked power, but he made up for it with flexibility.
After checking his equipment and supplies, Wakasha packed everything back into the cloth bag, slung it over his back, and headed toward the town's south gate.
The south gate was the only route out of town and toward Chalk Forest. Two town guards stood watch there, wearing heavy armor and holding spears, their eyes carefully scanning the people coming and going.
"Halt. Where are you going?"
When Wakasha reached the gate, one of the guards stopped him and asked in a stern voice.
Although the area around the town was fairly safe, the town guard still had to inspect travelers, both to prevent monsters or suspicious people from slipping into town, and to stop unprepared rookies from rushing into the forest and throwing their lives away.
"I'm going to the outer edge of Chalk Forest to hunt goblins."
Wakasha stopped and answered truthfully. At the same time, he pointed to the cloth bag on his back, the leather armor he was wearing, and the short sword at his waist to show that he had made preparations.
The guard looked him over from head to toe, then frowned at the equipment he was carrying.
"You're a beginner?"
"Yes. I just left the orphanage. This is my first time going into the forest to hunt monsters."
Wakasha did not hide it.
The other guard beside him let out a snort.
"A beginner, and you still dare go to Chalk Forest?
The goblins on the outskirts may not be strong, but they live in groups. And I heard recently a small pack showed up near the outer edge—more than a dozen of them, with one that's a little stronger than the rest. A rookie like you would just be going in there to get slaughtered."
Wakasha's heart tightened, but he still said firmly,
"I know it's dangerous, but I have to go. I need to make money to support myself.
I've prepared as much as I can. I'll be careful. I won't go deep into the forest—I'll only stay on the outermost edge."
The first guard looked at him for a moment. Seeing the determination in Wakasha's eyes and sensing that this was not just youthful recklessness, his tone softened slightly.
"If you insist on going, I won't stop you.
Just remember—stay on the outer edge. Don't go deeper into the forest. If you run into a large group of goblins or any stronger monster, run immediately. Don't try to act tough.
And make sure you leave the forest before dark. The forest becomes very dangerous at night. Stronger monsters come out to roam."
"I understand. Thank you, big brother guard."
Wakasha nodded, filled with gratitude.
He knew these guards sounded harsh, but they meant well.
"Go on, then. Stay safe."
The guard stepped aside and waved him through.
Wakasha thanked him again, then quickly walked out through the gate.
The moment he left town, the scenery changed at once.
Inside the town were tidy houses, flat stone roads, and people coming and going, full of human warmth and everyday life. Outside the town, however, stretched endless fields and woods. In the distance, Chalk Forest rose and fell in long rolling waves, its dense greenery like an ocean of green, radiating a mysterious and dangerous aura.
Wakasha took a deep breath. The air was filled with the scent of earth and grass. Gone were the smells of cooking fires and iron filings from the town and blacksmith's shop, replaced by the raw wildness of nature.
He adjusted the cloth bag on his back, gripped the short sword at his waist, and started walking toward Chalk Forest.
From the town to the outer edge of the forest was roughly five kilometers.
Wakasha kept up a brisk pace the whole way, not daring to linger.
Though his body was thin, he had spent years helping out around town, so his stamina was still decent. After about an hour of walking, he finally arrived at the forest entrance.
At the entrance to Chalk Forest stood a huge white boulder, with the words "Chalk Forest" carved into it in bold, vigorous strokes. It was impossible to tell how many years ago the inscription had been made.
Beside the boulder stood several wagons, as well as a few people dressed in adventurer's gear, organizing their equipment and preparing to enter the forest.
Most of them were low-rank adventurers. Their gear was a little better than Wakasha's, and they carried longswords, bows, or staffs. Their faces bore the seasoned caution of people with some experience.
Wakasha did not go up to talk to them. He knew that as a novice, approaching experienced adventurers like them would not get him much help. If anything, he might just get laughed at.
And no, that was not impossible. It was simply one of the things every insecure beginner had to go through.
If he could not even handle that, then he might as well give up adventuring now.
He found a hidden corner, checked his equipment one more time, then took a deep breath and carefully stepped into Chalk Forest.
The moment he entered the forest, the light dimmed sharply.
The towering trees blocked out the sky, their branches and leaves interwoven overhead. Only scattered rays of sunlight slipped through the gaps in the canopy, forming patches of light on the ground.
The forest was quiet. Aside from the rustling of leaves in the wind, the occasional birdsong, and the chirping of insects, there was almost no sound at all—which only made the place feel more mysterious and dangerous.
Wakasha slowed his steps and lowered his body, trying to move as quietly as possible so he would not make too much noise.
His hand tightened around the short sword at his waist as his wary eyes swept over the surrounding environment, paying constant attention to every little movement nearby.
Wakasha in his previous life had only been an ordinary person, but he had read plenty of adventure novels and watched plenty of horror films. He knew that in an unfamiliar and dangerous environment like this, vigilance was everything. A single moment of carelessness could cost him his life.
Drawing on some of the survival techniques he had seen in his previous life, he advanced while studying the ground and the trees around him.
Goblins might be cunning, but they were not very intelligent, and they left behind plenty of traces when they moved—footprints, droppings, damaged plants, and the foul stench unique to their kind.
Wakasha walked for about half an hour. Along the way, he found many animal tracks—rabbits, pheasants, and even some unidentified wild beasts—but no goblin footprints, nor did he catch the goblins' characteristic foul odor.
He felt a little anxious, but he also knew that hunting monsters could not be rushed. He could only keep searching patiently.
After another half hour or so, Wakasha suddenly stopped and frowned.