Chapter 4: The Silver Key and the First Whispers (Part 2)
Location: The Arken Smithy (Outer Compound).
Time: Midnight.
Weather: Clear skies, biting frost.
The Smithy was a squat, stone building that breathed heat even in the dead of winter. Smoke billowed from its chimney, carrying the scent of coal and molten iron.
Ren stood at the back, near the slag heap.
This was where Borin, the estate's Dwarven Blacksmith, threw his failures. Bent horseshoes, cracked chest plates, and shattered tools lay in a pile of rusted metal. To the average eye, it was junk. To Ren, it was a resource node.
He activated [Analytical Eye].
The world turned into a wireframe of data.
[ Item: Bent Horseshoe ]
[ Quality: Low ]
[ Material: Iron ]
[ Item: Cracked Spade Head ]
[ Quality: Scrap ]
[ Material: Low-Grade Steel ]
Ren dug through the pile, his hands turning black from the soot. He needed something hard. Something that wouldn't snap when he jammed it into a monster's skull.
His eyes landed on a jagged, dark piece of metal half-buried in the dirt. It looked like the broken tip of a large file or rasp.
[ Item: Broken Ore-Breaker Tip ]
[ Quality: C-Rank (Damaged) ]
[ Material: Cold-Forged Black Iron ]
[ Note: Extremely durable. Hard to sharpen. ]
"Jackpot," Ren whispered.
Cold-Forged Black Iron was military-grade material. Borin must have snapped a tool trying to work with it and tossed it in rage.
Ren pocketed the shard. It was roughly seven inches long, triangular, and wicked sharp on the fractured edge. It didn't have a handle, but he could wrap the base in leather strips cut from his old boots.
He retreated to the shadows behind the kennel.
For the next hour, the only sound was the rhythmic scritch-scratch of Ren grinding the tip of the metal against a whetstone he had pilfered from the gardening shed.
He worked with obsessive patience. He honed the point until it could split a hair. He wrapped the hilt in the leather strips, tying them tight with a wet knot that would shrink and harden as it dried.
He held it up to the moonlight. It was ugly. It was jagged. But it was lethal.
[ Weapon Created: The Prisoner's Shiv ]
[ Rank: F+ ]
[ Damage: 15-20 (Piercing) ]
[ Durability: High ]
"It will do," Ren said. He slipped the shiv into his boot.
Time: The Next Morning.
Location: The Servant's Courtyard.
The morning roll call was a dull affair. Servants lined up to receive their orders from the Head Housekeeper. But today, Alfred Pennysworth was there personally.
The Head Butler stood immaculate in his suit, his white gloves glowing in the morning sun. He held a clipboard.
"Gable," Alfred said, his voice smooth. "The West Stables require mucking."
"Yes, sir."
"Martha. Kitchen duty."
"Yes, sir."
Alfred's eyes slid down the line until they rested on Ren.
Ren stood with his head bowed, shoulders slumped, projecting the image of a broken child. The [Ring of the False Null] was active. To Alfred's senses, Ren was a mana-less void.
"Ren Arken," Alfred said.
"Here," Ren whispered.
"Due to your... unique success with the livestock yesterday," Alfred said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips, "The Young Master believes you have a talent for handling beasts."
The other servants went silent. They knew what was coming.
"Therefore," Alfred continued, "You are reassigned to the Night Watch. You will patrol the Northern Perimeter, along the edge of the Dark Forest. You are to ensure no wolves breach the fence."
A collective intake of breath from the line. Sending a twelve-year-old Null to the Dark Forest was murder. Pure and simple.
"Sir," Ren said, making his voice tremble. "I... I have no weapon. I have no mana."
"You have a lantern," Alfred said, handing him a rusted oil lamp. "And you have a whistle. If you see a monster, blow the whistle. The guards will come."
They won't come, Ren knew. They will wait until the screaming stops.
"Do you refuse the Young Master's order?" Alfred asked, his voice dropping an octave. The threat was clear. Refuse, and be beaten to death for insubordination. Accept, and be eaten by wolves.
Ren took the lantern. His hand shook—a perfect performance.
"I... I accept."
"Excellent. Report to the North Gate at sundown. Do not be late."
Alfred turned on his heel and walked away. The other servants looked at Ren with pity, but no one said a word. In the Arken estate, pity was dangerous.
Time: Sundown.
Location: The North Gate, Edge of the Dark Forest.
The civilized world ended at the North Gate.
Behind Ren lay the manicured lawns and warm lights of the estate. Ahead of him lay a wall of ancient, twisted trees. The Dark Forest was a massive woodland that covered the northern part of the continent. It was home to Mana Beasts, Goblins, Orcs, and things that didn't have names.
The guard at the gate, a man named Hork, spat on the ground.
"Don't go past the marker stones, kid," Hork grunted, opening the small wicket gate. "And if you die, try to do it quietly. I'm trying to sleep."
Ren stepped through the gate.
The temperature dropped ten degrees instantly. The air smelled of pine needles, wet earth, and something coppery—like old blood.
Ren walked until the estate wall was just a grey line behind him. He was alone in the twilight.
He stopped trembling. He straightened his back. The fear vanished from his face, replaced by the cold indifference of the Librarian.
"Area Analysis," he commanded.
[ Analytical Eye ]
[ Location: Dark Forest (Outer Rim) ]
[ Mana Density: Low-Medium ]
[ Threat Level: D-Rank ]
"Perfect," Ren said.
He hung the lantern on a low branch. He didn't want the light. Light ruined night vision and attracted moths—and monsters.
He crouched low, activating the stealth techniques he had absorbed from the Viper's Strike book. He moved into the underbrush, silent as a shadow.
He wasn't patrolling. He was hunting.
Ten minutes later, he found tracks.
They were small, clawed footprints in the mud. Three toes. Shallow heel.
[ Track Analysis: Goblin Scavenger ]
[ Time: 20 minutes ago ]
[ Number: 1 ]
Ren followed the tracks. He moved downwind, letting the breeze carry his scent away from the prey.
He found the creature near a rotting log.
It was a Goblin. Small, green-skinned, with oversized ears and a nose that hooked downward. It was picking at a patch of glowing blue mushrooms, muttering to itself in a guttural language. It wore a loincloth made of dirty fur and carried a jagged bone club.
[ Monster: Goblin Scavenger ]
[ Level: 3 ]
[ Health: 40/40 ]
[ State: Distracted ]
Level 3, Ren calculated. It has double my health. One hit from that club will break my ribs.
He needed a critical hit.
Ren drew the Prisoner's Shiv. The black iron seemed to drink the moonlight.
He crept closer. Ten feet. Five feet. Three feet.
The Goblin paused. Its ears twitched. It smelled something—not Ren, but the faint metallic tang of the weapon.
It turned around.
"Grak?"
Ren didn't hesitate.
"Viper's Strike."
He spent 10 Mana.
His body surged forward. It wasn't a run; it was a launch. The world blurred around him as the system-assisted speed took over. His arm became a piston.
The Goblin's eyes widened. It tried to raise its club.
Too late.
SHUNK.
The black iron shiv drove upward, under the Goblin's jaw, and punched straight into its brain.
[ Critical Hit! ]
[ Damage: 48! ]
The Goblin didn't even scream. It just gurgled, its body going rigid, then limp.
Ren withdrew the blade. Blood sprayed over his hand, hot and sticky. He let the body slide to the forest floor.
[ System Alert ]
[ You have defeated a Level 3 Goblin Scavenger. ]
[ XP Gained: 35 ]
[ Level Up! ]
[ You are now Level 2. ]
[ Free Attribute Points: 1 ]
Ren exhaled, wiping the blood from his cheek. His heart wasn't racing from fear; it was racing from the thrill. The System was real. The growth was real.
He looked at the dead Goblin.
"Loot," he said.
He knelt down. Goblins were poor, but they sometimes carried Mana Stones or herbs.
He checked the pouch at the Goblin's waist. Inside, he found three copper coins and a handful of the blue mushrooms it had been picking.
[ Item: Moon-Shade Mushroom ]
[ Rank: F ]
[ Effect: Slight Mana Recovery when eaten raw. Poisonous in large quantities. ]
"Mana food," Ren noted. He pocketed them.
He stood up. He had 1 Attribute Point.
"Agility," he decided. "I need to be faster than them."
[ Agility: 6 -> 7 ]
He felt his muscles twitch, becoming slightly lighter, more responsive.
He was about to move on when the Archive in his mind pulsed. A heavy, thudding vibration.
[ Quest Triggered: The First Page. ]
[ Condition: You have drawn First Blood in the Wild. ]
[ Objective: Clear a 'Goblin Nest' (0/1). ]
[ Reward: Access to 'Row 1, Section B' (Spell Books). ]
Ren smiled. A cold, sharp smile in the darkness.
"A nest," he whispered. "That means there are more."
He looked deeper into the forest. The night was young. The lantern back at the gate was still burning. He had until dawn to kill them all.
Ren Arken vanished into the trees. The prey had become the predator.
End of Chapter 4
Summary of Events:
Preparation: Ren scavenges a piece of Cold-Forged Black Iron from the smithy trash and crafts The Prisoner's Shiv.
The Order: Alfred assigns Ren to the Night Watch to die. Ren accepts, playing the victim.
The Hunt: Ren enters the Dark Forest. He tracks a Level 3 Goblin.
First Kill: Ren uses Viper's Strike to one-shot the Goblin.
Progression: Ren reaches Level 2. Puts a point into Agility.
New Quest: The Archive assigns him to clear a Goblin Nest to unlock actual Spell Books.