He sat there, rubbing his head with his hands.
Well, that sucked. Is it because I lack skills?
He stood up and placed his palm outward again to see his status.
How do I find skills?
He tried poking at or interacting with the screen for a while.
Well, this isn’t working. I’ll have to figure this out soon.
Also, wait… were those guys speaking English?
That’s gotta be some reincarnation nonsense.
He sighed loudly and looked around.
Since I don’t know where east is, I’ll go where they went.
He began his walk in that direction with a sense of purpose.
He walked through the forest, the beams of light hitting higher on the trees now.
What kind of bullshit isekai is this? I was naked, and I have no money or useful skills.
Eventually, he reached a dirt road set in a gap between the trees and started down it.
Safe to assume this road leads somewhere.
Faint wheel tracks marked the road, left by carriages or carts. As he continued walking, he passed a merchant adjusting a cart wheel at the roadside.
He carried on until the trees broke into a clearing. The road extended through a wide field of grass and rolling hills.
In the distance, buildings came into view, too far to distinguish in detail.
Well, finally out of the forest. Onto social interactions… yay.
On the road ahead, he saw a few merchants pulling carts laden with wares, heading to and from the town.
He approached close enough to see it well. Stone walls encased the perimeter, with a large gate at its center.
Its buildings varied in shape and design, but most shared stone walls and roofs tiled in red.
Well, no big sign with the town name.
That would be pretty dumb, I guess.
Two guards stood at the gate, scanning the flow of people moving in and out.
They wore chainmail, swords at their hips, and shields strapped across their backs.
Walking up to one of them, Bryan asked politely, “Hello, I’m new to the area. What is this town called?”
The guard gave him a slightly confused look. “Well, it’s Dawnstead. Surprised you made it here not knowing where you are.”
Dawnstead. Of course it’s perky.
He thanked the guard and made his way through the gate.
To the guild!
Stepping into the square, he noticed most of the people were human, though scattered throughout were others with pointed ears, tails, or scales.
Yes, elves. Now this is fantasy… awesome.
He entered the main street. Market stalls lined the road, showing off local fruits, trinkets, and food.
People wandered and haggled, voices raised in trade and conversation.
Okay, where is this guild exactly?
He scanned the wooden signs hanging over the doors.
Oh god, what is that chicken scratch under the pictures?
He stepped closer to one.
Please tell me that’s not supposed to be words.
Swirling loops and jagged lines mocked him in complete incomprehensibility.
Fantastic. I can understand them when they talk, but apparently I’m illiterate.
He continued down the street, studying each sign carefully.
A tankard, probably a tavern.
A loaf of bread, bakery maybe.
Then: crossed swords.
Bingo.
He strode up and pushed the door open.
Inside, heat hit him like a wall. Smoke. Soot. The sharp scent of molten metal.
A burly man behind an anvil glanced up mid-hammer.
“…You lost, lad?”
Bryan blinked through the haze.
“This is a funny-looking adventurer’s guild.”
The blacksmith stared. Then barked a laugh.
“Only quests I hand out come with blisters and a burn warning.”
Bryan coughed. “Ah. So… not the place to register for killing things?”
The blacksmith crossed his arms.
“No. That’d be the guild, five doors down. Sword, shield, staff, and bow on the sign. Can’t miss it.”
He turned back to his work, then paused.
“When you need a blade fixed or gear that won’t fall apart mid-swing, come see me. Galen, local dwarf smith.”
Bryan blinked. “Wait… did you say dwarf? You’re over six feet tall.”
Huh. He’s as tall as me. Am I a dwarf?
Galen chuckled, wiping his hands on a rag.
“Half-dwarf. Got the forge skills, none of the height issues.”
Bryan squinted at him.
“Right. Well… thanks for the help.”
Very peculiar.
He stepped back out into the cool street air, heading toward the guild.
Approaching the big double doors, he pushed one open and stepped inside.
He entered a large square room with a balcony above. At its center sat a bar-like desk, where a bored-looking receptionist lounged.
Around the room, a few adventurers sat at benches, chatting about their latest quests.
Axe Guy said, “Should’ve seen this one guy. We saved him after he got beaten by some goblins.”
Sword Guy replied, “Yeah, that was pretty pathetic.”
Those dicks again…
Bryan scowled toward them while making his way to the reception desk.
The receptionist was blonde, with wide pigtails, a white frilly shirt, a blue vest, and a matching skirt.
Hmm. Pretty cliché isekai look.
“Hey, I would like to register as an adventurer.”
“Okay, place your hand on the stone for an identity check,” she said in a monotone.
Bryan tentatively placed his hand on the odd-looking stone tablet.
A version of the status screen appeared above it, displaying his Name, Job, and Level.
Well, that’s a bit embarrassing.
“Okay, that is fine. What name are you registering under?” she asked.
“The Ashen Blade,” Bryan said confidently.
“I’m sorry, that name is in use.”
Erm, it’s not like it matters.
“Ashen Blade Master.”
“Okay. So, level 1, no job, and ‘Ashen Blade Master.’”
She filled in a form without looking up.
“And how do you intend to pay the guild fee? It’s ten silver.”
Of course there’s a fee.
“Erm, I’m broke unfortunately,” Bryan said, looking a bit sad.
“That’s fine. We can take a percentage from your quests until it’s paid.”
She stamped a tag-looking thing into a hand press.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Oh cool, just what every fantasy world needs: debt.
“Here is your Stone-rank badge and a copy of the guild guide.”
Hmm. Can’t say this place is inefficient.
“Basic gear can also be provided for a further fee.”
Bryan sighed.
“I will need a sword too. Please can it be added to the debt?”
“Absolutely, sir. I recommend the Rat Subjugation request for your first quest,” she said, a slight smirk lifting one corner of her mouth before her expression went stony again.
She looked under the desk, pulled out a basic sword, and placed it on the counter.
“Just be aware, sir, if you die with debt, your gear will be reclaimed to cover the loss.”
God damn, that’s dark…
“Okay. Is there a training area?”
“Out back,” she said, returning to her idle musings over a book.
Bryan took the sword and made his way around the desk toward the rear exit.
Through a small wooden door lay a walled courtyard with training dummies and a few adventurers either sparring or striking targets.
Now skills… I imagine I’ll need them.
Bryan walked up to someone training alone.
“Hey, could you help me out a bit?”
The adventurer stood about 5’8”, with reasonably decent gear. He sized Bryan up.
“Sure, I guess. Name’s Reorn,” he said casually.
Not too weird of a name, I guess.
“Thanks. So… you use skills, right?”
Reorn nodded. “Well, yes. Obviously. Can’t really be an adventurer without them.”
“Ah. I’m curious how they work. I don’t have any yet,” Bryan said earnestly.
Yeah, probably best to ask outright.
Reorn gave him a puzzled look. “Not sure how you’ve survived this long without a single one.”
Hmm. Best avoid suspicion here.
“Well, just lucky, I guess.”
“Okay, well - to get a skill you have to understand how it works and have some experience with it. Most people pick them up with practice, being taught, or sometimes just watching others.”
“That makes sense, thank you. Give me a moment,” Bryan said.
He stepped up to a training dummy, drew his sword, and took a confident swing. The blade clanged and bounced off, sending a jolt up his arm.
Ow, you bastard… that hurt.
“To swing at these properly, you need to aim to slash with the edge,” Reorn called out with a slight smile. “They’re tough. You’re not cutting through them.”
Bryan lifted his sword again, this time dragging the blade across instead of striking head-on. The impact was cleaner, with less recoil.
After a few more swings, a small notification flickered in front of him:
Blade Slash unlocked.
Ah, okay. That makes more sense…
“Thank you - this has been a huge help,” Bryan said sincerely.
Reorn shrugged. “Okay. If that’s all you need.” He turned back to his own dummy.
Bryan turned back to his and began testing different strikes: a heavy overhead swing, a low gliding arc from the side, and a quick stab.
After a few minutes of focused practice:
Heavy Slash unlocked.
Sweeping Slash unlocked.
Piercing Strike unlocked.
Okay, so I have to understand and practice. Easy enough.
He kept at it until another notification appeared:
Level Up.
Bryan brought up his status screen and scanned it.
Hmm. All my stats have gone up a bit, and I’ve got skill points now.
The skills he’d just unlocked were visible - but grayed out.
After fiddling with the interface a bit, he realized it responded more to his intent than to touch.
Really hope no one noticed me standing there poking the air…
Though likely everyone has one of these?
He mentally assigned a point to each skill.
Can I add more to each? Erm, no. Seems not.
He tried again, willing more points into the skills.
Based on what Reorn said, I need more practice to level them up further.
He got ready to keep training… but then paused.
Okay, I’m starving but broke. I should go do the rat thing and get money.
Bryan made his way back into the guild and approached the receptionist.
“Oh, you’re not dead yet? Two streets over - basement of a big house.”
Bit harsh…
She pointed to the location on a town map behind the counter.
Hmm. A map would be useful.
“Could I borrow or have that map, please?” he asked earnestly.
“No. You have too much debt, and that is mine,” she said sharply, walking away without another word.
Lovely… Is she paid to be mean or what?
He stepped back out into the street, heading in the direction she’d indicated. He passed people of all kinds, elves, catfolk, and others.
Hmm. The cat people look adorable… must… resist… cuteness aggression…
Bryan shook his head briefly.
Moving on…
Rounding a corner, he reached the house in short order.
Town seems nice enough. Shame about the medieval smell.
He rapped sharply on the door and waited.
A homely human woman opened it. “Sorry, we already have a religion.”
Wait, I look like a Mormon?
Before she could shut the door, he spoke quickly.
“No, I’m here for the rat quest from the guild.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Used to zealots trying to preach. Follow me.” She gave him an apologetic smile and gestured him inside.
Ah, small, but classic peasant abode.
She led him toward the basement.
“They’re down there. They’ve rendered it unusable.”
She pointed toward the stairway with a smile.
Ah, my time to shine. I will crush these vermin.
He made his way down the stone steps, lit only by dim torchlight. He grabbed one off the wall as he passed.
Yeah, gonna need this. I’m not a cat…
At the bottom, he drew his sword. The sound of claws scratching stone echoed through the darkness.
As he moved forward, rats came into view, some the size of housecats, others closer to large dogs.
Oh god… those are beyond gross.
Their heads snapped toward him. With a chorus of squeaks, they charged.
Bryan lashed out with a powerful swing, and missed. His sword clanged loudly against the floor.
The rat had dodged with finesse.
Nimble bastards…
The rats swarmed around him, nipping at his legs and ankles. He swung low with a wide, horizontal slash, taking out several of the larger ones.
Level Up
One rat leapt at him, reaching chest height. He jumped back just in time.
Evade Unlocked
No time to invest in that yet… focus.
Bleeding from several bites, he slashed again and again, the blade now slick with blood.
The last of the rats fell.
Level Up
Okay. Mental note: rats are tougher than expected… also, bites definitely hurt.
Panting, he looked down at the pile of rat corpses.
I’m thinking the tail is a logical, if not unpleasant, choice.
Grimacing, he began cutting the tails off, bundling them up in his shirt.
As he climbed back upstairs, he noticed the woman peeking cautiously down the steps.
“You got rid of those unpleasant things?”
“Yes. And collected the tails.”
“Good. I’ll have my husband butcher them for dinner later. Thank you.”
They’re going to eat them… mental retch.
Bryan headed back out toward the guild.
On the way back, fewer people crowded the streets as the sun dipped low, casting everything in a crimson hue.
Okay, carrying these sucks… I need a bag. Where’s the magic item box when you need it?
He reached the double doors of the guild and stepped inside. The place was even busier now, more adventurers, more chatter.
Bryan got a few odd looks as he walked in, blood dripping from his bundled shirt.
These really are gross.
He dropped the tails onto the counter. The receptionist didn’t flinch.
She sighed loudly. “Really thought they’d eat you. Oh well.”
She really doesn’t seem to like me for some reason.
She disappeared behind the counter with the bundle. A few moments later, she returned.
“Seven tails. Two copper each. That’s fourteen. Minus four for debt. You get ten.”
She handed him a handful of square-shaped copper coins.
Better than nothing, I guess.
“You can check new quests or relax like most do,” she added, already turning back to her book.
Well. Best get something to eat and relax a bit.
Bryan walked over to the other side of the guild hall, where a long bar stretched beneath a rack of mismatched mugs. He waited until the barman was free.
Now that is an impressive mustache.
“So, what can I get you? Also, your legs are bleeding,” the barman said, voice gruff but not unkind.
“Erm… food and something to drink, I guess. And yeah, I’m aware.”
“A stew and ale it is. Six copper.”
Bryan sighed lightly and handed over the coins.
Should I grow a mustache like that?…
The barman turned and walked into the back.
No. No, that’s dumb.
Bryan found an empty bench and sat. After a short wait, a bowl of stew, a chunk of dry bread, and a tankard of ale landed in front of him.
“Thank you,” he said.
The barman gave a brief nod and returned to his post.
Well, it looks like food.
He tried a spoonful of the stew and recoiled.
Oh my god. That is a sacrilege against all that is holy.
He sat for a few moments, contemplating his life choices before forcing another spoonful down.
I need to eat… but please don’t be those tails.
He reluctantly continued his meal, overhearing bits of conversation nearby.
Warrior: “Can’t believe we took down that wolf pack so easily…”
Bryan picked up the bread and dipped it in the stew.
God, I miss margarine already.
Rogue: “Yeah, a guy came in just holding tails in his shirt. Guess he’s not heard of a bag.”
Laughter.
Bryan sighed and inhaled deeply, pushing through the rest of the meal.
Rowdy Mage: “So this new guy thinks he’s amazing, huh?” he said loudly.
Sure. Just shout, why don’t you.
Bryan took a sip of the ale, surprisingly smooth.
Well… it’s certainly tolerable.
A mug slammed onto his table.
Rowdy Mage: “Are you this Ashen whatever guy?”
Ah dammit. No peace for me, it seems.
“Yes, I guess I am. Why?” Bryan replied calmly.
“You are not that great. It was just one rat quest.”
Pretty sure I didn’t say I was…
“Honestly, today has sucked. Can I not just eat in peace?” Bryan pleaded sincerely.
The mage’s scowl deepened as he wobbled. “No. I will duel you. Me and you. Courtyard. Five minutes.”
Jesus. Is this guy a walking cliché or just very drunk?
Bryan finished the last of his bread before responding.
“Fine. But if I win, you’ll teach me something. You’re a mage, right?”
I mean robes should mean that or a priest…
“Yes. But I highly doubt you could grasp magic. I win, you quit.”
Obviously not. I’d just try a different town.
“Fine,” Bryan muttered. “I’ll finish my food and go to the courtyard.”
The mage huffed and stomped off.
That was seriously weird.
Bryan swigged the rest of his ale and glanced around the room. Everyone else was chatting, laughing, relaxing.
Well. Best go deal with this ego trip.
Bryan stood up and made his way past the adventurers to the back courtyard.
Opening the door, he spotted the mage already waiting, long tidy robes with a slight wobble.
Okay. Be prepared. This could go either way.
He stood twenty feet from the mage, who offered a smug smile.
“We’ll start in five seconds,” the mage said.
Okay, so no one wants to watch. Must be a common occurrence.
Bryan drew his sword and readied himself, his calves still aching from rat bites.
“Four… three… two…”
A red glow bloomed around the mage’s hands as he raised his arm.
“One.”
A bolt of fire shot toward Bryan. It skimmed his shoulder — he barely dodged in time.
Oh shit, I was really expecting some stupid incantation.
He closed the gap, weaving past two more shots, but the third struck him in the chest. Heat and pain surged through him.
I’d best not kill him though…
With the flat of his sword, Bryan ducked low and swept at the mage’s leg.
His strike connected solidly with the mage’s knee, sending him stumbling. Bryan barreled forward, shoulder-checking him to the ground.
Another bolt flew wild into the air as Bryan pointed the tip of his blade at the downed opponent.
“Okay, is this over, or should I punch you?” Bryan asked, smug.
“Don’t you dare… Fine, you win,” the mage muttered, red-faced and fuming.
He stood, brushing himself off.
“You commoners really are brutish. No finesse at all.”
Really? Trying to lecture after you lost?
“Come on, man. A deal’s a deal. I didn’t even want this… pony up,” Bryan said, crossing his arms.
“Fine. But you won’t understand,” the mage huffed, rubbing his knee.
“Okay. Simply put: you have to feel the mana in your body.”
Okay… and?
“Once you’re used to that, you learn to channel it where you want to use it.”
The mage scowled.
“Then you shape it with your understanding of what you want to achieve.”
“That sounds simple enough,” Bryan said, sounding slightly confused.
“Yes, but a commoner like you is going to struggle to understand the mechanics behind fire or lightning.”
Bryan shrugged, which only deepened the mage’s scowl.
“Well, I did my part. I’m getting out of here. My teacher’s getting fired for this.”
Anger simmering beneath the surface, he stormed off and slammed the door behind him.
Okay. So: mana… channel… science… boom. Glad I listened in school.
Bryan stood still for a moment, trying to feel the mana.
Nothing obvious.
There is a faint feeling… but it’s been there since I arrived.
Focusing on that feeling, it began to grow.
He guided it toward his arms, concentrating.
Odd sensation… but kind of relaxing.
Mana Channeling Unlocked
Okay, best put a point in that right away.
After investing, he concentrated again - directing mana to his hand, then shaping it.
His palm began to glow.
My ankles are still bothering me from earlier…
The glow flared, and fizzled out with a pop.
Bryan stared at his hand.
Got distracted and buggered that up. Try again.
He shook his head, breathed in deeply, and focused.
Heat… Oxygen… Fuel…
His hand warmed. When he opened his eyes, a small flame flickered just above his palm.
Mana Shaping Unlocked
Good. A point in that too. Now we’re cooking with gas.
He practiced more, adding motion to his mental process.
A clear image: a ball of fire flying from his hand.
Fire… ball… flying.
A bolt of fire shot from his hand, arcing into the wall behind a training dummy and leaving a light scorch mark.
Fire Bolt Unlocked
Okay, now to practice this and my swings…
He trained into the night, stars glinting above.
Fire bolt after fire bolt.
Swing after swing.
Level Up
Level Up
Level Up
