Klein lay sprawled across his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, the faint sunlight seeping through the curtains painting lazy golden lines across his face. His hand rested behind his head as he exhaled deeply. "I want to fight goblins again."
'You always want to fight goblins,' Paros replied dryly, his voice echoing inside Klein's head. 'Because of your Level 1, right?'
Klein frowned. "That's exactly the problem! Level 1? Zero XP? That's pathetic!" He sat up, frustration burning in his chest. "If I don't level up, if I don't get stronger—how am I supposed to reach Level 100, build my harem, and rule like a proper king?!"
Paros muttered, his tone unimpressed. 'You should at least tell Lucien if you're planning to leave. He's probably not fond of reckless children running off to slay monsters.'
Klein ignored him, mumbling under his breath, his words inaudible, even for Paros.
Just as Paros was about to retort, the door burst open with a loud bang
BANG!
Lyra stood there, arms crossed, hair slightly messy, clearly not in the mood for niceties. "Lucien told me to tell you," she said curtly, "that he's leaving for a goblin raid in ten minutes."
Klein's eyes widened. "You're kidding—"
"Think what you want." She turned on her heel to leave but muttered just loud enough for him to hear, "Pervert."
"Wait, what?!" Klein protested, but she was already gone, her footsteps fading down the hall.
'Well,' Paros said after a pause, 'looks like the universe just granted your wish.'
Klein grinned widely. "Perfect coincidence doesn't even begin to describe it."
He stood up in one swift motion, summoning Whisperfang from his spatial dimension. The sword materialized in his hand like a phantom—its obsidian-black blade absorbing light rather than reflecting it. It felt weightless, perfectly balanced. When he swung it once through the air, the blade moved with an eerie silence, cutting even the wind without a sound.
He stared at it for a moment, admiration gleaming in his eyes. "Whisperfang, huh? You and I are going to make history."
'Or headlines,' Paros quipped. ' "Local boy dies after charging goblin nest solo." '
"Not funny."
Klein sheathed the sword and headed toward the stairs. But as he walked down the dimly lit hall of the manor, a thought struck him—something that had been gnawing at him ever since their visit to Ostina.
"Paros," he said quietly, "why do you think Lucien's stationed here? He's the strongest knight in the kingdom, right? So why waste him at a border garrison, fighting goblins of all things?"
Paros hesitated before answering. 'Because the king wants him here. It's politics, Klein. The kind that smells worse than goblin breath.'
Klein frowned. "Politics.."
'The king fears Lucien's influence. A man that powerful, that respected—he's a threat. So the king sends him to the edge of nowhere, far from the capital, where his reputation can't grow any further. It's not punishment, exactly… more like containment.'
Klein clenched his fist. "That's messed up."
'That's life.'
....
By the time he reached the courtyard, a cool morning breeze had picked up, carrying the faint scent of horses and steel. Lucien was already outside, dressed in light armor, his blonde hair glinting beneath the sun. Several knights were mounting their horses, preparing for departure.
Klein jogged toward them. "Sir Lucien!"
Lucien turned, his expression mildly surprised. "Klein? What is it?"
"I want to come with you—to the raid."
The surrounding knights erupted into laughter. One even clutched his stomach. "The boy wants to go goblin hunting with us!"
"Let him fight a chicken first!" another jeered.
But before their laughter grew louder, a deep voice cut through the noise. "Silence!"
Everyone turned to the speaker—a gruff, broad-shouldered knight with a scar running across his cheek. "Commander Lucien, me, and some fellow companions, we saw this boy," he said seriously, pointing at Klein. "When we first found him, he had just wiped out a goblin camp alone. No mana, no weapon besides that strange blade of his. Whatever he is—he's not ordinary."
The laughter died instantly. A murmur rippled through the group, half skeptical, half impressed.
Lucien studied Klein silently for a moment. His sharp eyes softened slightly, though his tone remained measured. "You wish to follow us? Eager to kill more goblins I see."
"How many goblins have you killed already?"
Klein nodded. "More times than I can count."
Lucien sighed, then gave a small nod. "Very well. Stay close to me, and do not wander around."
"Yes, sir!" Klein said eagerly, grinning like a child handed his first sword.
Lucien's gaze fell on the weapon strapped to Klein's back. "That sword…" He frowned. "I never asked you where you got it."
Klein froze for a second, then blurted out, "Uh, family heirloom! Yeah—passed down generations!"
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Family heirloom?"
Klein nodded a little too quickly. "My grandpa said it was… uh, handcrafted by silent monks or something."
For a long moment, Lucien said nothing. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he held out his hand. "May I?"
Klein hesitated, then handed him Whisperfang.
The moment Lucien's fingers wrapped around the hilt, his eyes widened. He gave it a slow swing through the air, the blade slicing soundlessly. "By the Light…" he murmured. "It's weightless. And silent as the darkest of nights."
Gasps erupted among the knights.
Lucien exhaled deeply, his tone grave. "Boy, what you have here isn't a family heirloom. This is a top-ranked treasure—possibly Legendary, maybe higher."
The group collectively fell into stunned silence. Even the horses seemed to shift nervously.
Klein rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh… thanks?"
Lucien handed the sword back carefully, almost reverently. "Keep it hidden. Weapons like that attract attention—and trouble."
"Got it," Klein said, sliding it back into its sheath.
Moments later, the knights mounted their horses, and the small convoy began their journey down the forest trail. Klein rode behind Lucien's horse, the rhythmic sound of hooves and clinking armor blending with the gentle rustling of leaves.
Paros spoke again. 'So, how many goblins are you planning to kill today?'
Klein smirked. "Enough to make the system throw me a level-up party."
The trip was long but strangely pleasant. The road wound through fields dotted with wildflowers and distant hills that shimmered under the midday sun. Klein felt a strange warmth in his chest—part anticipation, part excitement.
He glanced at Lucien riding ahead, his posture straight and unwavering. There was an aura of calm around him, one born from strength, discipline, and something deeper—sadness, perhaps.
Klein wondered briefly what Lucien thought of him. Maybe just a reckless boy. Or maybe someone worth watching. Either way, Klein didn't care. All he knew was that adventure awaited beyond the next bend.
And as the garrison's walls faded into the distance behind them, the faint glimmer of smoke rose ahead—somewhere deep in the woods.
Lucien's voice rang out, calm but commanding. "We're close. The goblin encampment should be half a mile east."
Klein's grip tightened on Whisperfang. His blood thrummed with excitement.
"Finally," he muttered under his breath, a grin spreading across his face.