{Jin’s POV}
*******
I was panting hard as I sat down on the flat stone, sweat trickling down my temples and stinging my eyes.
The wooden practice sword rested beside . My arms ached, legs burned, lungs worked overti trying to catch up with the oxygen debt I’d accumulated.
I’d been out here for hours, running through forms, practicing strikes, pushing my body through.
"Not bad, not bad."
I looked up to see Chief Zen walking toward , his distinctive limp—the old injury that had ended his military career making itself known after however long he’d been standing there watching .
"I’m impressed," he said, settling himself onto a nearby log bench with a slight wince. "Did you really create that sword style by yourself?"
I nodded, wiping sweat from my face with my sleeve.
"My brother helped though, he’s much better with a blade than I am." I lied smoothly.
Victor never did anything except beat the shit out of during sparring and call it ’training.’
But Zen didn’t need to know that.
He smiled warmly and reached over to pat my shoulder.
"You’re very talented, grandson-in-law. Keep training like this and I might even pass you my style. The Warden’s Edge isn’t for everyone, but you’ve got the foundation for it."
I didn’t correct the ’grandson-in-law’ comnt.
Honestly, I was getting tired of fighting that particular battle every single ti.
And how did I get here?
I’d been walking through the village earlier, just trying to clear my head.
Then Zen had appeared seemingly from nowhere and intercepted with that grandfatherly smile that I was learning to be deeply suspicious of.
"Jin, my boy! Perfect timing!" He’d said it like we’d planned this eting. "I’ve been wanting to see the hero’s skills myself. Show an old soldier what the younger generation is capable of!"
Before I could object or make an excuse, he’d already steered toward the training ground and produced practice swords from gods knew where.
And then... well, he’d actually been helpful.
I’d run through my forms expecting polite comntary or general praise, but instead Zen had watched with the sharp attention of soone who’d spent decades analyzing combat, and then started pointing out flaws I hadn’t even realized existed.
Each correction had been precise, practical, and imdiately applicable.
I adjusted, run the forms again, and felt the difference.
Having him around isn’t that bad, I admitted reluctantly to myself.
And pulled up my status window while I caught my breath, curious to see if the training had any asurable effect.
[STATUS]
Na: Jin Raith
Age: 17
Class: Debugger
Level: 22
EXP: 2,340/5,400
Rank: C
MC (Mana Capacity): 263/450
HP: 925/1,025
MP: 605/625 ( 150%)
Stats:
STR: 33 ( 2)
VIT: 32 ( 1)
AGI: 37 ( 3)
INT: 77
WIS: 45
LUK: 19
Allocation Points: 40
Skills: - Poison Resistance (69%) - Social Engineering - Alchemy (Interdiate) - Debug Vision - Iron Will (Passive) - Light Orb - Mana Reservoir (Passive) - Combat Analysis (Passive)
Combat: - Unorthodox Fang (Proficiency: 99%)
I stared at that last line.
Ninety-nine percent proficiency.
One percentage point away from mastery.
And the physical stats had increased too.
Good.
"Jin!"
I looked up from the status window to see Tessa walking toward us, a wicker basket slung over her arm. She wore practical work clothes, and her hair was tied back in its usual high tail.
She smiled at her grandfather first.
"I brought lunch."
Zen’s face lit up.
"Perfect timing! I was just getting hungry. Your grandmother always said you had the best sense of timing in the family."
Tessa giggled and sat down on the bench beside him, setting the basket between them and starting to unpack its contents.
Zen turned to and gestured.
"Co here and eat. You need strength... you’re still too skinny. Can’t have my grandson-in-law looking like he’d blow away in a strong wind."
I sighed, stood up despite my protesting muscles, and walked over to sit on the other side of Zen.
Tessa handed sothing wrapped in cloth. I unwrapped it to find a thick sandwich, bread, at, cheese, so kind of vegetable spread.
It slled incredible.
"Thanks," I said, and took a bite.
Zen launched imdiately into conversation, talking about mundane village matters, crop yields, repair schedules, upcoming festivals, but sohow always circling back to stories from his ti in the army.
"And that’s when Commander Veras realized the ’enemy camp’ we’d been planning to raid was actually just a rchant caravan that had gotten lost. You should have seen his face! Absolutely mortified—"
I ate and listened, occasionally making noncommittal sounds of acknowledgnt.
After maybe twenty minutes, Zen stood up with a groan and a stretch.
"Well, I should get back. Elder eting this afternoon... those old bastards will start without if I’m late, and then I’ll never hear the end of it." He patted my shoulder again. "Good training session. We’ll do it again tomorrow."
He limped off, leaving and Tessa sitting on the bench in comfortable silence.
I continued eating, the sandwich sohow getting better with each bite.
"Did you think about the engagent?"
I paused mid-chew, considering how to respond.
Before I could swallow and speak, she continued.
"If you’re not sure about it, we could just fake it."
I blinked at her.
She shrugged, her expression practical.
"You act like you’ve accepted. Give the village reassurance that they have your backing. That gives everyone the protection and political cover they need."
She picked at the edge of the basket.
"And you can just delay the actual marriage. Keep pushing the date back. Eventually Grandfather will lose interest or find sothing else to sche about, and then we can quietly break it off."
I considered that.
It was... actually not a bad plan.
Gave everyone what they needed without the permanent commitnt.
"Not bad," I said finally.
Tessa puffed her chest out, grinning with unmistakable pride.
"I know! I’m the best at scheming. It’s genetic... runs in the family."
Despite myself, I smiled slightly.
She stood up, brushing crumbs off her pants.
"I have work to do, so I’ll excuse myself. Enjoy the rest of lunch!"
"Busy life, huh?" I said, leaning back against the bench.
She smirked over her shoulder.
"Yeah. Unlike so young masters who have all day to sit around eating."
I clicked my tongue in annoyance.
"I’m recovering from nearly dying, thanks for noticing—"
But she was already walking away, laughing, her hand raised in a casual wave.
I watched her go, shook my head, and finished my sandwich in peace.
When I finally made it back to my room, the sun was starting its descent toward evening.
I pushed open the door, already thinking about a bath and maybe an actual nap.
And imdiately noticed Scarlet.
She was sitting in the corner, pressed against the wall with her knees drawn up, her tail wrapped around herself protectively.
She flinched violently when the door opened.
Then she saw it was and exhaled.
"It’s just you..."
Her voice was strained.
I closed the door behind and locked it, raising an eyebrow.
"What happened?"
Scarlet’s ears were flat against her head, her usual confidence completely absent.
"I saw them," she said quietly. "The hunters."
My stomach dropped.
She stood up, her movents jerky with barely controlled panic. "I went outside the village to hunt this morning, went too far west. And saw them on the road from Greyford, maybe two hours away at their pace."
She looked at directly, and I saw genuine fear in her eyes.
"They’re coming here. They’re coming for ."
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