Arriel barely slept that night.
He lay on his back in the quiet dark of his small home, eyes fixed on the wooden beams above. The sensation hadn't faded. That strange, pulsing warmth that had rushed into him the moment the horned hare died — it was still there, like a quiet ember glowing deep in his chest.
It hadn't been imagination. He was sure of it.
Something had happened.
He turned over, burying his face into his pillow, heart racing. "What was that…?" he whispered into the silence.
He didn't tell his parents. They had enough to worry about with the harvest next week. And how could he explain something he didn't understand himself? Instead, he made a decision: he would try again. Just once more. If it happened again—then he'd know.
---
The next morning, Arriel returned to the adventurer outpost. He kept his head down, acting casual as he scanned the quest board. Another F-rank request, easy enough: a rockbeak bird was nesting near the fields and scaring livestock.
He accepted it, grabbed his gear, and set out alone.
The rockbeak was exactly where the report said it would be — perched on a broken fencepost at the edge of the fields. Arriel approached carefully, sword drawn, feet steady. The fight was quick. One swing, then another, and the bird fell with a shriek.
He waited.
Then it came.
A wave of soft energy, light and golden, spilled from the creature's body into the air. He didn't even have to reach for it. His body — no, something inside him — absorbed it naturally, hungrily. It flowed into his limbs, warming his fingers, sharpening his senses.
Just like before.
He stood frozen for a long while, staring at the bird's still form.
"…It's real," he murmured.
---
Two more quests followed over the next two days. One to deal with a fang-toothed squirrel gnawing through food storage, the other to clear a few tunnel worms. He slayed them all, and each time, the same thing happened. The same invisible warmth. The same unmistakable pull.
On the third day, Arriel found himself sitting beside the training yard outside the guild, watching the older adventurers spar.
"Oi, Arriel." A voice called out. It was Kael, a young spearman he'd befriended months ago. "You still chasing after F-ranks?"
Arriel hesitated, then nodded. "Hey… do you still have your status bracelet?"
Kael blinked. "Yeah, why?"
"…Can I borrow it? Just for a second."
The older boy raised a brow, then shrugged and unbuckled the slim bracelet from his wrist. "Sure, knock yourself out."
Arriel took a deep breath and slipped it on.
The crystal surface flickered to life.
Then numbers appeared.
> [Level 2]
He stared.
Kael leaned over, eyes wide. "What the—? No way."
Neither of them spoke for a moment. The wind stirred the dust between them.
"…You're a Hero," Kael finally said, voice quiet, almost reverent.
Arriel's breath caught in his throat. He pulled the bracelet off like it had burned him.
"No, I—I can't be. I'm just… my parents are farmers—"
"But you leveled. That's what the bracelet says. Heroes are the only ones who can absorb life energy. You're one of them."
Arriel stood slowly, mind spinning. "I need to think."
---
The walk home was long and quiet. He didn't stop at the guild. He didn't talk to anyone else. His boots scuffed along the dirt road as he stared at the ground, the world around him suddenly feeling too big.
A Hero.
The word echoed in his mind like a distant drum.
At the edge of the village, he paused to look up at the sunset sky. His reflection shimmered faintly in the glass of a rain barrel beside the road. He didn't look any different. But inside, something had changed.
Something was awakening.
He wasn't ready to tell anyone yet.
But deep down, beneath the confusion and fear… he felt something else.
Hope.
"I'm a Hero… and this is just the beginning."