The air stood still, weighed down by the smothering tension.
The large man stood before me, his face relaxed, his massive tower shield reflecting the final rays of the setting sun.
"Go on. Strike my shield. You don't have to hold back."
The man moved the massive metal slab as easily as one would a thin plastic sheet, placing the shield in front of him.
I unsheathed my sword, taking a familiar stance, my body tensing with energy.
[Charge Thrust]
My body shot forward, the ashen blade glimmering in the crimson light as it collided with the shield.
CLANG!
I felt the recoil pass through my sword and into my arms, momentarily rendering them numb. My body was thrown back, leaving me dazed, with Sebastian's instincts being the only that kept me from falling on my back.
The man remained where he was, without taking even a single step back, only the faintest of tremors of his shield serving as evidence of the deflected attack.
Still, the relaxed expression could no longer be seen on his face, and a few new droplets of sweat suggested my skill did make him expend some stamina, at the very least.
Of course, my own sweaty back and aching muscles were a testament to the skill's toll on me, as well.
Harold could probably just hold his shield up all day, like an impenetrable wall, and I would sooner collapse from exhaustion than cause any real damage.
"Good! Very good. Next!"
[Arc Slash] !
Clang!
My second skill was also effortlessly deflected.
Harold, however, was satisfied with the result. Putting his shield on his back, he approached and patted my shoulder, nearly sending me to the ground once more, before letting out a hearty laugh.
"Most kids your age that come here can barely swing a sword, and here you are, showing me a proper battle Technique, and one clearly trained beyond basic proficiency, no less."
The man laughed with satisfaction.
"If I wasn't convinced you'd actually lived near the swamps, I'd suspect you are some hidden scion of a fallen noble family who was forced into hiding! Or maybe the hidden genius of the royal academy who decided to run away to the countryside and live a slow life? ha ha ha!"
The man's wild hypothesises of my supposed mysterious backstory told me he'd probably enjoy some of the web novels I read back on Earth. But more importantly, it also gave me an indication – despite his tone suggesting some degree of exaggeration, possessing a level 2 skill was considered quite advanced for this age.
"Well, congratulations, kid! You get to skip the Wood tier and go straight to Bronze. Not every day that we get one of those around these parts."
"Thanks?.."
His overall reaction was a bit too sudden and overwhelming for me.
Noticing my confusion, his grin flickered for a moment, before his face wore a more serious expression once again.
"Ahem. Adventurers are classified into tiers. The first tier, adventurers with no abilities or techniques, are called 'tierless', but we usually call them Wood tier adventurers. Redwood adventurers around those parts, ha ha!"
The man's sudden friendliness was a bit surprising, but I understood a different world would have more people with personalities I wouldn't usually see back home.
"Adventurers that do know a technique or two, but hadn't stepped on their Path yet, are Bronze tier. The moment an adventurer becomes a Path-bearer, he advances to the Iron tier."
Seeing me nod with interest, he continued speaking.
"From there, the tiers go from Silver all the way up to Adamantium. Oh, some of the mythical heroes you heard songs about were in the 'Unclassified' tier, although that has nothing to do with any of us, ha ha!"
After another slightly fake laugh, he went on…
"The classification from Silver onwards is more flexible, too. After all, some Paths are as strong as others at a lower level, while some tread more than one Path, making the whole thing even more complex."
"Wait a second!"
"Oh, ha ha, sorry. I got way ahead of myself. You must have some questions. Please, ask away!"
The man's powerful wave of enthusiasm threatened to sweep the whole conversation off course, so I quickly tried to steer it back towards my main reason for coming here today.
"What are Paths, exactly? I know it has something to do with Techniques and.. Blessings. And I heard you mentioned levels?"
"Blessings? I see! You must have spoken to the old priest before coming here. Those holy folks call them Blessings, but most people usually call them Feats or Traits."
Phew, this time it wasn't me (or rather, my panel) who was the weird one. [The Self] got this one right!
'Or is it that most people got the other names wrong?'
"In any case, he probably recited one of those sermons about a Path being the sum of one's self, yadda yadda."
He looked into my eyes, the hint of surprise likely confirming his suspension.
"Listen, kid. With all due respect to the gods and their mortal representatives… bah! It sometimes feels like they fear that speaking straight and to the point would kill them. Oh, don't tell the priest I said that."
The man's expression turned contemplative, as if trying to find the best words.
"A Path is something that makes you stronger – and that one unlocks under certain conditions. The different types of conditions are quite complex, and only two of them are well known, at least to the best of my knowledge. In the city, this type of knowledge would be in the guild library or one of the paid courses, but it's not like this is a big secret in and of itself."
He gave me a wink.
"The first way is to train three Techniques to a basic proficiency level, completely mastering two of them, and gaining a single Trait."
He paused in thought.
"Of course, this only applies when the Techniques and Traits all 'match' a valid Path. Otherwise, you would have to learn more Techniques or gain more Traits until the minimal threshold is met, or you satisfy the second set of conditions to unlock a Path."
His tone was that of a teacher lecturing a classroom.
"This second way is less specific – you can even call this a general rule rather than a law. Once anyone reaches a total of six Traits, Techniques and Abilities combined, they almost always unlock a Path, as long as they possess at least one Technique and one Trait, regardless of proficiency."
He shrugged.
"There are some stories about the threshold being seven rather than six, but there was no confirmed case, so those stories remain just that."
His last words raised a few ideas inside my mind, as he continued.
"Finally, there seem to be a wide range of valid combinations in between those two sets of conditions. Sometimes, they are documented, referred to as Rare Paths or Hidden Paths."
Harold's tone became solemn.
"This type of knowledge is scarce, and usually kept within various noble families, clans, temples, and other similar organizations. Even if one accidentally stumbles upon a Hidden Path, it is often extremely hard to progress in, due to complete lack of knowledge, and often a lack of resources such Paths might require."
He stopped for a moment, before remembering the rest of my question.
"Oh, as for 'levels' - Paths are divided into tiers. Mastering techniques, training new techniques, and attaining new abilities or traits - all of these contribute to the corresponding Path's progression. Each Path has a certain number of tiers we call 'levels', and with enough progression, you move to the next level."
This sounded pretty much like what I expected from his words so far.
"Most Paths have 20 or 10 levels, while a few, mainly Rare and Hidden Paths, may have 5. When you reach the limit of your Path, the only way forward is to either try to combine it with another Path, or find a fitting Advanced Path, once the total number of levels between all your paths has reached 10."
He paused once more, as if realizing he might've gotten ahead of himself.
"Anyway, there's no point talking about Advanced Paths in a town like this, ha ha!"
The man threw a glance my way, to see if I was listening (I was trying my best), before remembering something.
"Ah, speaking of levels, a monster's CR is assigned based on the average level of 4 regular Path-bearers it would take to be able to consistently hunt it, given sufficient preparation."
"...CR?"
"Short for Combat Rating."
Until this point, I've listened very intently, without interrupting – partially because I needed to learn as much as I could, and partially because the overly enthusiastic branch leader would barely provide such opportunities.
I wasn't sure if it was just his personality, the scarcity of promising newcomers, the overall peacefulness (boredom) of this town, or some combination of all of the above, but Harold certainly jumped on the opportunity to lecture the newest guild member.
However, it was getting dark, and I really didn't want to be late to my meeting with Bern, and the potential payment.
Plus, I did learn the most important information I came for – there was nothing that couldn't wait for tomorrow.
As such, I decided to start tying up this conversation.
"By the way, sir, about my registration, do I get an identity token, or?.."
"Ahaha, I got sidetracked again! You can just call me Harold. Anyway, you don't really need an identity token below Iron, and we require official credentials to modify one, anyway."
That felt slightly disappointing, for some reason.
"However, we can and will issue a regular Bronze certificate. Comes with a badge, too. Oh, cost is 1 silver – you should drop it by Jane before you leave, or just pay when you collect it tomorrow. Should be ready by noon."
"Thank you, sir Harold."
I nodded my head, preparing to leave.
"Oh, we also update the request notices in the morning. There aren't that many new commissions each day, but there aren't that many people here to grab them, either. Feel free to take a look if you want – almost nothing here is above Bronze difficulty. Although I suggest you find a teammate or two – those requests often appear simple, but that appearance is often deceptive. An extra pair of eyes in the forest can make the difference between life and death."
"Thank you very much for telling me all this. I'll try to find a- oh! That reminds me, I should hurry and meet Bern. He should be waiting by now."
I don't know how well my performance sold. Given the fact that everything I said was true (maybe except the teammate part), I hoped I could finally leave without Harold getting offended.
"Bern? Ah, you are the kid they met in the mines! Alright then, I won't make you make Bern wait any longer, ha ha! Give him my regards when you see him."
"Thank you! See you next time!"
I took the opportunity to quickly walk to the exit, swiftly leaving the courtyard before Harold might have remembered anything else.
I went back through the hall, entering the empty reception area, where the bored receptionist threw a single expressionless look my way, and exited the building, heading back towards the inn.
***
The last rays of light, red as the surrounding trees, had finally departed the Red Pine Forest.
Among those trees, walked a single goblin.
The goblin was in no way special; A few rags hanging from its torso, a rusty short sword in its hand, its red, hungry eyes shining in the gathering darkness. If one were to describe it, the description would roughly match nearly every other goblin around those parts, except perhaps its slightly better weapon.
The goblin was doing the most natural thing a goblin can do - looking for food.
Perhaps a small critter that it can ambush with its agile legs, or a decently fresh carcass that hadn't fully rotted away yet.
The goblin was very hungry – right now, it could settle even for a lone wolf, as long as it was the regular kind. Sure, it would be a fight to the death, but the winner would have food for days, and the goblin really, really wanted food.
Actually, it also felt an emotion – goblins did not usually feel deep emotions, but this one was an exception. The goblin felt hatred. Hatred towards its kin, who abused it for being slightly dumber than them. His kin, who barely left it any food, and forced every second scouting mission upon it. They would force every single one, too, if they weren't explicitly forbidden.
And so, while "scouting", it would focus on getting some proper nutritions.
Perhaps in its hunger, its vision became fuzzy, or perhaps its legs didn't move quite as well, but somehow, it stumbled on a root, partially hidden under the red needles, and was sent tumbling to the ground.
Unfortunately for the goblin, it fell down a small slope, rolling and sliding all the way to the bottom.
Thankfully, the bottom was only a few meters away, and the slope itself wasn't very steep either. The goblin, whose bones were quite elastic, would end up with a few bruises at most.
Getting back up off the ground, the goblin suddenly found itself in front of a cave - for some reason, it hadn't noticed the cave before, but now that it was right in front of it, the goblin simply could not miss it.
The goblin saw no animal tracks near the entrance, but of course, the cave could hold a different type of delicacy - juicy, slimey bugs! They wouldn't fight back, either, and even if they tried, the goblin would first stab them with the sword a few times, just in case.
Already envisioning its next meal, the goblin made its way into the cave.
The moment it passed the threshold, it felt a weird sensation on its skin, as if walking through a thin film - and popping it.
It gave the feeling no mind – it was getting all kinds of strange feelings when it was this hungry.
However, taking another step, it felt another feeling – a chilling frost, piercing its feet to the very bones, then spreading upwards to its stomach, chest, and head.
This cold would be the last thing this goblin ever felt.