Chapter 5: The Drowner Problem
POV: Adam
The notice board outside the Golden Sturgeon fluttered with contracts that spoke of a world where monsters were mundane problems requiring mundane solutions. Lost cat - 2 crowns. Repair roof - 5 crowns. Drowners attacking fishermen - 50 crowns.
Adam's fingers traced the edges of the drowner contract, feeling the rough parchment and thinking about numbers that suddenly mattered in ways they never had before.
[Current Status]
Level: 2
STR: 12
STA: 15
AGI: 13
HP: 120/120
MP: 150/150
XP: 325/360 (to Level 3)
Gold: 60 crowns
Fifty crowns for drowner extermination. More than double his current wealth, assuming he survived to collect it. The math was simple enough—he needed money, experience, and stronger enemies than rats to make meaningful progress.
The math of survival is always simple. It's the execution that kills you.
The harbor district reeked of rotting fish and human desperation in equal measure. Adam found the Harbor Master's office squeezed between a tavern that had seen better centuries and a fish market that hadn't seen soap in living memory.
Bodhan turned out to be exactly what Adam had expected—weathered face carved by salt wind and disappointment, hands that spoke of decades hauling nets and counting losses. The kind of man who'd learned not to expect miracles but still paid for them when desperation left no other choice.
"You?" Bodhan's eyes tracked from Adam's feet to his head, cataloging everything that marked him as young, untested, and likely to end up as drowner food. "You're just a kid."
Adam met the harbor master's skepticism with the steady gaze of someone who'd already killed more than his fair share of things with teeth. "I'm a kid who's already killed more things this week than you have this year. Do you want the drowners gone or not?"
The silence stretched long enough for the sounds of the harbor to fill it—creaking wood, slapping water, the distant cries of gulls fighting over scraps. Bodhan's expression shifted from dismissal to calculation.
"Fifty crowns if you clear them out," the harbor master said finally. "But I want proof. Bring me something that proves they're dead."
[Harbor Reputation +5]
Adam left the office ten crowns poorer but armed with a basic knife and information that might keep him breathing. Drowners were weak to fire, slow on land, pack hunters that typically moved in groups of three to five. Predictable in their unpredictability, dangerous in their simplicity.
[System Note: Recommended Level: 4+. Current Level: 2. Proceed with caution.]
"When have I ever been cautious?" Adam muttered, checking the knife's balance as evening painted the harbor in shades of blood and shadow.
Never. That's why you're here instead of safe in some corner tavern counting coppers.
The docks stretched into Cintra's harbor like wooden fingers reaching for the deep water where things with too many teeth waited for careless fishermen. Adam crouched behind a stack of crates that reeked of brine and decay, expanding his breath control to its limits.
Air Sense. The technique had no official name in his growing arsenal, but Adam had discovered that careful breathing could tell him things about the world that his eyes missed. Water moved differently when something large displaced it. Air carried scents and sounds that spoke of predators in the darkness.
The first drowner emerged from the harbor like a nightmare given form—gray-green skin that glistened with moisture, claws designed for rending flesh, and eyes that reflected the dying light with predatory intelligence.
It paused at the dock's edge, water streaming from its amphibious body, scanning for threats with the patience of something that had learned to hunt in an environment where hurried mistakes meant death.
Adam waited until it committed to climbing onto the dock, then triggered Air Jump.
The power flowed through him more smoothly than it had during his first fumbling experiments, lifting him three meters straight up as the drowner lunged at where he'd been crouching. The creature's claws scraped against wood instead of flesh, its momentum carrying it into a tumbling crash against the dock's support beams.
Air Blade.
The cutting wind struck across the drowner's exposed back, opening a line of dark ichor that painted the dock in colors that had no names. The creature spun with inhuman speed, its claws finding Adam's forearm as he landed, cloth and skin parting under razor edges.
[Damage Taken: 20 HP]
[Current HP: 100/120]
Pain flared bright and immediate, but Adam had learned not to let pain dictate his actions. He grabbed the drowner by its slimy shoulders and triggered Air Gust point-blank, the force launching the creature backward off the dock and into the harbor with a splash that echoed like a death knell.
The drowner surfaced, thrashing in water that should have been its element, but Adam was already moving. He dove after it, knife leading, driving the blade into the creature's skull with the full weight of his body behind the strike.
Dark water closed over them both. The drowner convulsed once, then went still, its death throes sending ripples across the harbor's surface.
[Experience Gained: 10 XP]
[Drowners Eliminated: 1/?]
Adam hauled himself back onto the dock, water streaming from his clothes, blood mixing with harbor brine on his torn sleeve. One down. An unknown number to go.
And that was the easy one.
Three more shapes broke the surface simultaneously, surrounding the dock with deliberate intelligence that spoke of pack tactics refined by countless successful hunts. Adam realized with crystalline clarity that he'd made a fundamental error in positioning—trapped on a narrow dock with water on three sides and hungry predators controlling every escape route.
Time for creative problem-solving.
He triggered Air Gust again, but this time aimed at the crates stacked behind him. Wood splintered and cargo tumbled into the water, creating floating obstacles that would force the drowners to come at him one at a time instead of in coordinated assault.
The tactic worked better than he'd dared hope. The creatures were fast in water but clumsy when forced to navigate around floating debris. Adam led them onto dry land where their movement became sluggish, predictable.
The second drowner died to Air Blade followed by knife work—a combination that was becoming natural through repetition and necessity.
[Experience Gained: 10 XP]
The third creature he knocked into a dock piling with enough force to impale it on the wooden spikes that fishermen used for hanging nets. Creative kills, apparently, earned bonus experience.
[Experience Gained: 12 XP - Creative Elimination Bonus]
The fourth drowner proved why pack hunters earned their reputation. It waited until Adam was committed to finishing the third creature, then attacked from behind with claws that opened new wounds across his back and shoulder.
[Damage Taken: 40 HP]
[Current HP: 60/120]
Badly hurt. Need to finish this fast.
Desperation bred innovation. Adam grabbed the drowner around its throat and triggered a technique he'd never attempted before—Air Suffocation. The power flowed differently this time, not pushing or cutting but simply... removing. Creating a vacuum where air should be, collapsing the creature's lungs and cutting off its ability to breathe.
[MP Cost: 30]
[Current MP: 120/150]
The drowner thrashed in his grip, claws scoring fresh wounds, but its movements grew weaker as seconds passed without air. When it finally went limp, Adam finished it with the knife, ending its suffering and his own immediate danger.
[Experience Gained: 15 XP - Technique Innovation Bonus]
[Final Status: HP 50/120, MP 100/150]
[Total Experience Gained: 47 XP]
Adam collapsed onto the dock, breathing hard, his body a catalog of fresh injuries that would scar if he survived long enough for them to heal. The harbor stretched around him, peaceful now except for the floating corpses that proved monsters could die when faced with sufficient determination and poor decision-making.
Time to see what drowners are worth beyond experience points.
Harvesting proved to be exactly as disgusting as expected. Adam's inexperience showed in every clumsy cut, but he managed to extract useable materials from two of the four corpses—brains that alchemists apparently valued, tongues that served as potion ingredients, and hide that could be worked into leather if you didn't mind the smell.
[Materials Harvested:]
2 Drowner Brains - 12 crowns total
3 Drowner Tongues - 12 crowns total
1 Drowner Hide - 3 crowns
[Total Material Value: 27 crowns]
Bodhan accepted the proof of death with the satisfaction of someone whose problems had been solved by violence applied at reasonable rates. Fifty crowns changed hands, bringing Adam's total wealth to respectable levels and his reputation to something approaching useful.
[Quest Reward: 50 crowns]
[Harbor Reputation +15]
[Total Harbor Reputation: +20]
But the real reward came as Adam limped away from the harbor, blood soaking through improvised bandages.
[LEVEL UP! Level 2 → Level 3]
[Free Stat Points: +5]
[Current Stats Before Allocation:]
STR: 12
STA: 15
AGI: 13
HP: 50/120
MP: 100/150
The allocation was automatic now, driven by hard-won understanding of what kept him alive in a world where everything wanted to kill him.
[Stats Allocated: +1 STR, +2 STA, +2 AGI]
[New Stats:]
STR: 13
STA: 17
AGI: 15
HP: 50/130
MP: 100/170
[Airbending Progress: 250/500 XP to Level 2]
Power flowed through his injured body like liquid lightning, healing nothing but promising the strength to survive whatever came next. Level three. Still pathetic by any reasonable standard, but progress measured in blood and determination.
Twenty-nine days until the world burns. Time to see if I can get strong enough to matter.
The Golden Sturgeon appeared ahead, its warm light spilling onto cobblestones wet with evening mist. Safety, rest, and hopefully ale that didn't taste like punishment for poor life choices.
Adam pushed through the tavern's door, arm wrapped in bloody cloth, smelling of fish and death and small victories hard-won.
And there she was—Princess Cirilla, sitting at his usual table with crossed arms and a glare that could melt steel.
"You fought drowners. Alone. Are you insane?"
Probably. But insanity seems to be working so far.
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
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