Rowe didn't want to explain anything.
Seeing that he remained silent, Peter grew more and more irritated. "You're always so stubborn and self-righteous! I thought you'd learn some sense after you fell from that tree!"
Boom!
Peter slammed his hand on the table. "Fine! Go ahead! One less mouth to feed is no loss!"
With that, he got up and stormed out.
El quickly stood up and followed him. Soon, the sounds of an argument erupted outside. Their aunt hurried over to mediate, but it only escalated into a full-blown quarrel between the three of them. Even the family dog grew restless, barking anxiously.
Rowe sighed inwardly, losing his appetite. He left his half-eaten meal and returned to his room.
Lying in bed, he packed his belongings before slipping out through the window, hair restorer in hand, ready to find new customers.
His goal was set: make money as quickly as possible, build the Fist of Verrigan, and then become a military medic.
---
On the Streets
"Sir, are you interested in a hair restorer? Just two runes per bottle," Rowe called out to a man whose hair was thinning at the top.
"Two runes?" The man looked skeptical. "Are you sure it works?"
"Absolutely," Rowe replied. "I swear upon the Heavenly Father Kol—it's guaranteed to work."
Asgardians held oaths sworn in the name of the Heavenly Father in the highest regard. It was a sacred contract, and should Rowe's promise prove false, the consequences would be dire.
He hadn't dared to swear such an oath when selling the first batch to Boss Taylor, fearing the consequences if it failed. But now, he had full confidence in the hair restorer's effectiveness.
Hearing the oath, most of the man's doubts faded. "Will it restore all my hair?"
Rowe examined the man's thinning scalp. "I'd say yes. You'll probably need two bottles at most."
After a brief moment of thought, the man nodded and paid four runes for two bottles.
The price—just two runes per bottle—was enticing. Even men who weren't particularly vain would consider trying it at such an affordable rate.
By midday, Rowe had sold all twelve bottles, earning twenty-four runes.
It was a significant sum, a solid step toward his goal. In high spirits, he completely forgot about the morning's unpleasantness.
---
At the Brave Hunter Tavern
Feeling satisfied, Rowe ordered a plate of roasted meat and exchanged two runes for gold coins. He then discreetly moved to an unnoticed corner and donated the gold coins into the Book of Light.
Technically, he didn't need to hide his actions—Asgard was full of strange phenomena, and no one else could see the sacred text on the book's pages. If anyone noticed him stashing gold coins, they would likely assume it was some form of spatial magic.
After donating 200 large gold coins, Rowe's piety balance surged to 202.74. His resources had grown significantly.
Without hesitation, he spent a large sum on [Gifts of Fate], trying his luck.
Results:
[Thank You for Your Patronage]
[Devotion +0.37]
[Judgment (Spell Fragment)]
[Forging Blueprint: Training Sword]
[Experience Book: Stone-Toothed Boar]
Most of the rewards were unremarkable, but the Experience Book caught his attention.
---
Experience Book: Stone-Toothed Boar
Enemy: Stone-Toothed Boar
Experience Level: First-Class
Victory Rewards: Small amount of Piety; chance to obtain loot
Description: Enter the experience space and battle the Stone-Toothed Boar. Winning grants rewards; failure results in no losses (except for spell fragments). The book disappears upon victory.
"First-class?" Rowe mused. "Might as well give it a try."
---
Entering the Experience Space
The experience space resembled an abandoned farm. Not far away, the Stone-Toothed Boar stood, its sharp tusks glinting menacingly.
"Hrrrgh!"
With a deep grunt, the boar charged straight at Rowe.
Reacting swiftly, Rowe braced himself and intercepted the beast with his hands.
It was a mere first-level training monster. Its strength was unimpressive, and it lacked advanced techniques. Rowe quickly overpowered it, knocking it to the ground before delivering a decisive kick to its neck.
Boom!
The Stone-Toothed Boar disintegrated into smoke, leaving behind a single page of text.
Rowe picked it up and read it, but his excitement quickly faded.
[Reward: Devotion +1.01]
"Just that?" he muttered, slightly disappointed.
Exiting the experience space, he resumed buying Gifts of Fate.
Results:
[Thank You for Your Patronage]
[Standard Space Grid]
Standard Space Grid?!
[Standard Space Grid: Provides 1 cubic decimeter of storage space. No special items can be stored.]
A storage space—even a small one—was an extremely useful asset!
Rowe was thrilled. Like all items from the Book of Light, the Standard Space Grid appeared as a page in the sacred tome.
To test it, he placed a gold coin on the page. Instantly, the coin was absorbed, disappearing into the grid.
He reached out, and his hand seemed to pass through the page like water, retrieving the coin effortlessly.
"Incredibly convenient… but unfortunately, it's too small," Rowe muttered. With only one cubic decimeter of space, he could only store small items—certainly not weapons.
---
A Familiar Face
"Tialfi! Next time, you should try catching a four-horned goat!"
The tavern erupted in laughter and cheers as Landvety's infamous bad-luck hunter, Tialfi, made his usual entrance.
Rowe put away the Book of Light and approached. "Did you find any Green Chip Grass today?"
"No luck," Tialfi shook his head.
Rowe wasn't surprised—it was a rare herb, after all. He merely nodded and returned to his seat.
---
An Evening Conversation
After dinner, Rowe returned home, only to find El waiting for him.
"El?"
She took his hand and spoke softly, "Rowe, I know you don't like my father and don't want to be around him… but you shouldn't rush into becoming a military medic. I may not have been to war, but I know the battlefield is never a pleasant place."
Rowe shook his head. "I'm not doing this just to get away from Uncle. That might be part of it, but it's not my main reason."
"Then why?" she asked. "Do you really think war is… exciting?"
"Of course not. If I wanted excitement, I'd be a soldier—not a medic who doesn't even engage in combat."
He hesitated, then continued, "I just… I want to see for myself how far I am from a true hero."