Pattern

The market on an overcast day.

Roy's veiny left hand gripped the long, slender neck of a white goose tightly. In his other hand, he held a short knife with a sharp, narrow tip. He aimed at the artery in the goose's neck and sliced across it in a flash.

Blood gushed like a spring into the wooden bucket on the ground, which was already more than half full of thick clots.

He let out a breath and glanced at the information in his template:

Roy

Age: 13 years and 10 months

Identity: Commoner

Life: 50

Strength: 5

Agility: 5.1

Constitution: 5

Perception: 7

Willpower: 4.8

Charisma: 5 points

Spirit: 6 points

Skills:

Slaughter LV3: Hostile creatures that attack you and enter a one-chi (0.3-meter) radius around you have a ten percent chance of being intimidated by your aura. If their Willpower is lower than yours, they will lose control of their bodies for up to one second.

Your damage against the ten types of creatures you have personally killed is permanently increased by ten percent.

Crossbow Mastery LV1...

Meditation LV1...

Observation LV2...

Personal Level LV2 (700/1000).

Other: Unknown.

Personal Space: 1 cubic meter.

Roy had been working at the market for half a month. Since he only worked there in the mornings, he averaged twenty birds a day. The cumulative numbers had finally brought about a qualitative change, and his Slaughter skill had at last increased from LV2 to LV3. The half-month of breathing in the smell of poultry droppings and urine hadn't been for nothing.

In those two weeks or so, he had also earned twenty Crowns and around three hundred experience points.

The Berberis Fruit and Dandelion Mallow he had been taking all along had completely lost their effect. His two weakest attributes, Strength and Constitution, had been bolstered to the normal human level of 5. Physically, he had grown two inches (5 cm) taller since leaving Kaye Village, reaching a height of five feet six inches (1.68 meters). A faint outline of muscle showed beneath his clothes, and his build had changed from skinny to well-proportioned.

He now had the strength and constitution of a grown man. His features had grown a little more defined, giving him some of a young man's vigor.

Once the goose had bled out, he dunked it in scalding water, plucked its feathers, removed its organs, and finished cleaning it. By then it was noon. Roy put down his knife, untied his apron, and cleaned the grime from himself. After greeting old Rul, who was dozing in a chair nearby, he left the market and headed for House of Cadell.

Roy found Faywen in the courtyard, her pretty face glistening with sweat, and handed her a bag of herbs he had prepared.

"Roy, what's this?" Faywen took the bag, a puzzled look on her pretty face.

"Woodbine. It's an herb. Steep a little in water and drink it every day; it's good for a woman's health. You know I work at Tross's herb shop, so it was easy for me to get."

"Why are you suddenly giving me a present?"

"It's a thank-you gift. I wanted to thank you for looking after me all this time. You've helped me out of more than a few scrapes. If you don't accept it, I won't feel right," Roy said earnestly.

Faywen fell silent instead. "Roy, listen. I didn't help you for the sake of a gift."

"I can tell. But then why?" Roy pressed. "Faywen, I've always wondered why you take such special care of me, helping me review my lessons, like... an older sister."

Faywen suddenly drew a deep breath. Her fingers unconsciously twisted a strand of wine-red hair, and a trace of sorrow flashed in her beautiful eyes. "You're right. I... have a younger brother, and you make me feel at ease. You remind me of him. So every now and then, I find myself mistaking you for him."

Roy was surprised. He had never seen Faywen's younger brother at school, nor had he ever heard anyone mention him.

Could he be gone?

And Faywen's tone had sounded strange, almost uncertain.

"How old is your brother? Did he used to study at House of Cadell?" Roy asked again.

Faywen didn't answer this time. She glanced at the clock outside the door and changed the subject. "It's time. We should head into the classroom."

"All right." Since she didn't want to talk about it, Roy wouldn't reopen the wound. But the matter had lodged in his mind like a thorn, stirring his curiosity.

That evening, Faywen unusually didn't ask him to stay and review his lessons after class. Perhaps their conversation at noon had touched a nerve.

Under the cover of night, in the little storeroom beside the Mill, a young man and a young woman sat on a haystack, whispering in the glow of candlelight.

"Toya... did you remember the ten words I taught you yesterday?"

"Mm, I remembered them." In the firelight, the hunchbacked girl wrinkled her nose. Her small, round face was tense, and her big, dark eyes were full of nervous anticipation.

"Then, as usual, I'll test you first. Write down these four words: bread, fish, potato, morning."

The girl lowered her head. She pushed aside the hay on the ground, gripped a crudely made charcoal stick in her small hands, rough with chilblains and calluses, then swiftly traced a crooked row of characters across the uneven floor, her writing hand trembling.

"Mm, good..." The black-haired boy checked her work, praising her without restraint. "Toya, you really are clever. No, you're smarter than most people! Especially those little bastards who like to bully you. Those idiots don't even have the right to mock you."

The boy's praise brought a blush to the hunchbacked girl's pale cheeks. "I... no, that's not right. You're the one who taught me well, Roy. It's all thanks to you."

"Lift your head, Toya. You should have a little more confidence."

Encouraged by his words, the girl couldn't help drawing herself up and straightening her back. Her large hump made her figure look awkward, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a rare smile, stiff from disuse.

Roy paused. "Have those little brats been bothering you again lately?"

"No."

"Remember what I told you. If they dare come back, hit them hard with a broom. You can't keep taking it lying down; that'll only encourage them to get worse."

"If you can't beat them by yourself, wait until I get back. Then we'll go to their place and beat them up together."

Roy moved close to her as he made the threat, and their shoulders touched.

After more than ten days together, the girl had grown used to normal contact. She no longer reacted as strongly as she had at first.

"Let's put everyday phrases aside for today and learn something new." Roy cleared away the hay and used his charcoal stick to write four words on the ground: "Temeria," "Gors Velen," "Thanedd Island," and "Aretuza."

"Roy, who drew a five-pointed star on your sleeve? And why did they only draw half of it?" Toya's attention had been caught by a pattern on his left sleeve. Her eyes were full of curiosity.

Roy glanced at it. More precisely, it was half a black, smudged five-pointed star, drawn with a charcoal stick. He fell into thought.

"I can't remember..." Roy pondered for a while, then shook his head. "Probably some mischievous kid at House of Cadell. They must've drawn it on me when I wasn't looking."

"Today we'll talk about Temeria, a country north of Aedirn. Temeria and Edersberg are separated only by a mountain range, Mahakam... Toya, have you ever thought about visiting another country?"

"Ah... c-can I?" The girl shivered. Her big, dark eyes held both fear and anticipation, but she shook her head vigorously. "No, I haven't left the Mill in years. Temeria is too far away. I have to feed the chickens, water the flowers, sweep the floors—there's always work to do. Henk and Una won't let me leave."

"You're only imagining it." Roy twirled his index finger beside his head. "It's not like they can read your mind."

Toya's eyes gradually brightened.