Rowan sat on the edge of a bed, the dim light of the rented room casting long shadows across the room.
His hands rested on the dull blade he had taken with him to the forest.
A short blade purchased for measly three hundred Hinar Coins couldn't have afforded the security he needed for his exploration.
He knew it, yet his oversight made him believe he'd do just fine.
Well, there have been countless people who've lost their lives recklessly due to similar scenarios.
He facepalmed himself as he realized his naivety.
He ran a thumb along the flat part of the blade, its impressive weight doing little to ease the knot of frustration tightening in his chest. His mind replayed the encounter with the beast, the fear that had paralyzed him, and the sheer luck that had allowed him to escape with his life.
Kiera's voice echoed in his head: 'Next time, I won't be around to save you.'
His jaw clenched at the memory, the sour taste of his novelty.
She was right. He indeed had been foolish to think he could wander into a place like that with nothing more than a blade and a bag.
Despite all of these, the thought of quitting now never for once occurred to him.
If anything, it only further fueled his thirst for more power, more control. He chose to see the event as a driving force for him.
"I wouldn't be that helpless again," he muttered with his fists clenched tightly.
The weight of his promise wasn't just for himself. Aunty Verci's face flashed in his mind, a bittersweet memory of the woman who had given him the courage to dream.
She surely wouldn't have wanted him to give up, no matter how daunting things seemed.
He also thought back on his mother's statement. He didn't want her to be right about him.
He knew he had a future beyond the ordinary crust, and crumbs of the world. He knew he had a place at the top.
And he vowed solemnly that even though the world says otherwise, he'd fight for his place at the top.
Even though the sky is filled up, it'd still stretch beyond its capacity just to accommodate him!
Besides, he also thought about his junior sister, Abby. How could he accept seeing her in the future and not be proud of him?
He also thought about her and wanted to make sure he was the coolest brother in the world for her.
Despite having not seen her for so long, no ocean can hold the amount of longing he has to see her yet, he understood that wouldn't be possible now or even in the near future.
Therefore, he held his emotions to himself and decided to use them as fuel for his ambitions.
Rising from the cot, Rowan crossed the room to a small desk.
Just then, a sound rang out.
Rowan froze mid-step, his hand instinctively brushing the edge of the desk for support as the system's words echoed in his mind.
"Tikva Haki?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His brow furrowed in both curiosity and confusion.
Another skill, another mysterious term, another layer to this enigma that had become his life. But, as expected, the System offered no further explanation. The vague notification served as a frustrating reminder that he still didn't have the answers he needed.
"Of course," Rowan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Another skill I can't use yet. Just dangle it in front of me, why don't you?"
The room fell silent again, save for the faint creaking of the wooden cot as he moved back toward it. He sat down heavily, gripping the blade at his side.
"If this 'Tikva Haki' was anything like what it sounded like, it had to be important. The fact that it activated even while the System was still undergoing an upgrade must mean something, right?"
Yet, his frustration warred with a flicker of anticipation. He knew the System was far from ordinary, and while it had been more of an enigma than a guide, he couldn't deny the allure of discovering its full potential.
"Well," Rowan murmured, gripping the blade tightly, "if the System wants to keep throwing me breadcrumbs, I'll just have to follow them until I find the loaf."
He glanced at the small pile of herbs he'd gathered earlier, neatly bundled and waiting to be sold.
He had just two days left before he'd have to return to the academy, and he was keenly aware of how unprepared he still felt. The forest encounter had made that painfully clear.
The dull weight of his blade rested against his leg, a constant reminder of his inexperience. Yet, it also spurred a deep-seated determination within him.
"Fine," Rowan muttered, standing up abruptly. "If I can't access this skill yet, then I'll make use of the tools I do have."
He strapped the blade to his waist, gathered the herbs into his bag, and steeled himself. Today, he'd make sure to equip himself properly. No more relying on luck or the kindness of strangers.
***
The market buzzed with life when Rowan arrived. Vendors called out to passersby, their voices blending into a chaotic symphony of bartering and banter. The scent of spices and fresh produce wafted through the air, mingling with the metallic tang of iron from a nearby blacksmith's stall.
Rowan wove through the crowd, his weathered bag held close to his side. The herbs were worth a decent amount if he could find the right buyer, but he also knew he needed to spend wisely.
"Herbs for a strong brew? Potions? Remedies? I'll take them off your hands!" A vendor's voice caught Rowan's attention, and he made his way to a stall lined with neatly arranged jars and vials.
The vendor, an older man with a sharp eye and a keen smile, looked up as Rowan approached. "Ah, young man! What have you got there?"
Rowan opened his satchel, revealing the herbs he'd gathered. "Freshly picked from the Freehigh Forest."
The vendor's brows shot up, impressed. "Brave of you to venture there alone," he said, examining the herbs with practiced hands. "These are good. Very good."
"How much?" Rowan asked, cutting straight to the point.
The man stroked his chin, calculating. "For the lot... I'd say about six hundred Hinar Coins."
Rowan frowned slightly. He wasn't sure if that was a fair price or if he was being lowballed. "Sixteen hundred? These are top quality. I was expecting at least twenty."
The vendor chuckled, leaning back. "You've got spirit, kid, but I've got my own costs to consider. Seventeen hundred, final offer."
Rowan hesitated but eventually nodded. He handed over the herbs, watching as the vendor counted out the coins and passed them to him.
With the money tucked safely into his pouch, Rowan's next stop was the blacksmith's stall. The dull blade at his side wasn't going to cut it. Not literally or figuratively.
"Looking for something sharper?" the blacksmith asked, his voice sounding like a deep rumble. The man was broad-shouldered and intimidating, but there was a warmth in his eyes that put Rowan slightly at ease.
"Yeah," Rowan said, unstrapping the blade and placing it on the counter. "I need something better than this."
The blacksmith picked up the blade, examining it with a critical eye. "Hmph. This is barely better than a kitchen knife. What were you planning to do with this? Butter toast?"
Rowan scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed. "It's... what I could afford at the time."
The blacksmith set the blade down with a sigh. "Alright, kid. Let's see what we can do. What's your budget?"
Rowan hesitated before answering. "Sixteen hundred Hinar Coins."
The blacksmith raised an eyebrow. "Not much, but... I might have something for you."
He turned and rummaged through a rack of weapons.