The Boy Chasing an Otter

The wind howled across the wheat fields and open plains, while leaves drifted down from the mountain forests.

Mick ran at full speed through the dead leaves and loose stones. He held a sword in one hand, his eyes fixed on the figure darting back and forth beside him as he herded it in a certain direction.

Almost there. Just a little farther.

He repeated the words to himself, then leaped again, planting one foot against a tree trunk. Dust shook loose as he launched himself toward the fleeing figure.

His long sword cleaved through the obstacles in its path, opening a view through the bushes and dense foliage and revealing the figure's true form.

It was an otter that had come ashore, as large as a calf. Its black fur was sleek and glossy, letting it glide through thorns and bushes without losing speed.

It was much larger than an ordinary beast, and its speed and strength were not to be underestimated. With a casual swipe of its sharp claws, it could cut down small trees and clear a path.

A beast like this was only a hair's breadth away from becoming First Order. It was beyond the capabilities of an ordinary adventurer, so all Mick could do for now was harass and drive it onward.

"Ahhh—!"

He let out a loud yell and swung his sword at the otter. Before the blade could reach it, his attack startled the creature, forcing it to change course and flee to the right.

"Big Brother Jero, it's heading your way!"

Seeing which way the otter had fled, Mick shouted and continued after it.

A few seconds later, the otter burst out of the woods. Waiting in its path was a large net propped upright.

The otter tumbled into the net and charged forward, tearing at it until the ropes wrapped around its whole body. At last, it fell to the ground.

As it began clawing at the net in a struggle to escape, several adventurers who had been lying in wait rushed over. They pummeled it with hammers and stabbed it with spears, and before long, the otter was dead.

"Whew, that takes care of the last one." An adventurer wiped the mud and blood from his face.

"This one was too clever. The moment we poisoned the water earlier, it ran off."

"We chased it for nearly a week. Only caught it today."

"This one's the biggest. Give it another year or two, and it might become a Fang Beast."

"If it really became a Fang Beast, these traps wouldn't hold it. We'd have to hire professional hunters to deal with it."

"Jero's coming."

The man carrying a greatsword walked out of the woods. He had been holding the line behind them, driving the otter to flee in blind panic.

"All done?" he asked casually, walking over to the dead otter to inspect it.

"Not bad. Its fur is pretty high quality, too. It should fetch a good price."

"Twenty-three otters in all, with a bounty of two silver coins each. That's forty-six silver. This one's special, though, and its fur could probably sell for another twenty to thirty silver."

"As for expenses, we spent three silver at the Alchemist Guild on poison, five on supplies like the rope net, and two on food for the past few days and lodging for the villagers. We should make around fifty to sixty silver this time." One of the team's more calculating members quickly worked it out.

"Now we've got money again. I haven't even spent all of what I got last time."

"That's not like you at all, haha!" A few of them laughed. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits.

"Come on, let's drag this otter back to the village and have the butcher and villagers deal with it. We'll get another good meal tonight."

"Let's go!"

They set to work.

While the others were busy, Jero came over to Mick and gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder.

"Good work today."

"Thanks, Big Brother Jero," the boy replied excitedly.

"Heh, you've got some talent, kid," Jero said with a wide grin.

"Anyway, we should make a tidy sum when we get back this time. Got any plans for how you'll spend it?"

"I want to buy some good equipment, like an iron chain shirt or a better weapon."

"No, no. With your build, a chain shirt would just waste your stamina and take away that quickness you usually have." Jero shook his head, speaking from experience.

"As for weapons, make do with what you've got for now. Repairing a good weapon will make your heart ache." He led Mick over to sit down.

"Actually, what you need now is a decent mentor who can teach you something." He rested his greatsword across his knees and wiped it down with the oilcloth he carried.

"Teach me what? Impressive swordsmanship or fighting techniques?" Mick asked eagerly.

"Ahaha, those things too, sure. But have you ever thought about learning to read and write? With a little clerical skill to go with your fighting ability, it'd be easy to find work in Scorched Stone City."

"You mean like those guards or the merchants' escorts?" Mick pursed his lips in distaste.

"Their skills are probably about as good as a stiff old woman's, and their lives sound dull as dirt."

"I'm going to become someone really important someday, like a powerful adventurer—or a legend."

"Those sorts of people..." Jero seemed to recall something, then lowered his head and shook it slightly.

"It's good to have ambition, but you need the ability to match." He stood his sword upright and rose to his feet.

"You've still got a long way to go. Come on, let's spar." He set his greatsword aside and casually picked up a wooden stick.

"Sure!"

Mick hopped down from the rock he'd been crouching on, gripped his sword, and charged forward to challenge him.

Before long, the crisp sound of clashing weapons rang through the woods as the two traded blows.

Jero was clearly holding back. Otherwise, a single forceful swing could have sent Mick flying and left him badly injured, even with just a wooden stick.

A few minutes later, Mick ran out of strength. Heat and sweat rose from his body, and his face was bright red.

"Stop." Jero knocked Mick's attack aside, then planted the stick in the ground.

"Don't use your Breathing Technique again today."

"Yes, Big Brother."

"Come on, let's head back to the village and enjoy tonight's victory feast."

"Sounds good. Hehe."

Mick picked up his sword with his aching arm and hurried after him.

After a night of celebration, they took proof of their successful hunt and returned to Scorched Stone City the next day.

"Everything checks out. Congratulations to the Mountain Beast Adventurer Team on another successful bounty mission." Mailin finished filling out the form, then had someone bring out a bag of silver coins.

After the silver had been divided among the team members, Jero took one coin, flicked it into the air with his finger, caught it, and set it on the desk.

"Pretty lady, I'd like to ask you for some information." He pushed the silver coin toward her.

"Tell me what you want to know first." Mailin didn't take the coin right away.

"I've got a promising young member here. I want him to learn something. Do you know any teachers who could take him on?" He pulled Mick over for Mailin to look at.

"How old is he, and what can he do?"

"I'm almost seventeen, but not quite. I know the Breathing Technique, and I'm good with a sword, too," Mick said proudly.

"Seventeen and already able to use the Breathing Technique? He certainly has some talent." Mailin thought for a moment.

"Are you hoping to learn combat skills, or something else?"

"I want to learn combat..." Mick began, but Jero cut him off.

"No. He's going to study."

Jero corrected him, then pressed his thick finger against Mick's shoulder to keep him from interrupting.

"Studying? That's unexpected." Mailin glanced at them both.

"For basic lessons, I know a good teacher. She used to be one of Scholar Heide's students."

"Just the basics?" Jero asked, dissatisfied.

"What do you want him to learn, then?" Mailin asked.

"I want him to study something more advanced, so he'll have better options in the future."

"In that case..." Mailin thought of something, but then shook her head.

"That lord is also taking on new students, but there's no guarantee he'll accept him."

"Who?" Jero asked, now curious.

"Scholar Heide, the very person I just mentioned. He's about to start teaching again."

Scholar Heide was renowned throughout Scorched Stone City. There were only three scholars in all, and two of them had been his students. He was practically a symbol of the city's knowledge and wisdom.

"That lord? This is wonderful!" Jero slapped Mick on the shoulder repeatedly, making him wince in pain.

"Don't get too excited yet. That lord has standards for his students," Mailin said, rubbing her forehead.

"No problem. I'm sure that lord will recognize Mick's talent. It's settled."

Jero led a reluctant Mick away from the counter, and another round of cheers rose from the team.

"That's Scholar Heide!" someone said excitedly.

"Mick, if you become Scholar Heide's student, you'll be set for life!"

"Maybe you'll even become a Knight appointed by Viscount Xuefeng someday."

"That's getting ahead of ourselves. I'd be thrilled if he became a city guard."

"Hahaha!"

Mick had been reluctant at first, but after hearing all the praise from his teammates, he finally changed his mind and grew excited.

Could someone like me really catch that lord's eye? The boy felt both nervous and hopeful.