Under the pale twilight, Gareth stood still, silently observing Ren.
His gaze was sharp yet contemplative, as if weighing something in his mind.
But in the end, he merely let out a quiet breath, his shoulders relaxing as if he had made a decision.
There were no more lessons to be taught. No more scoldings, corrections, or words of encouragement. Everything that needed to be said, everything that needed to be passed on, Gareth had already conveyed it all.
Ren stood there, his grip firm on the hilt of his sword, palms sticky with sweat.
A strange sense of loss welled up inside him, a hollow emptiness upon realizing that his training with Gareth had come to an end.
But Gareth only smirked, a faint smile like a passing breeze, as if he had already seen through the thoughts swirling in Ren's mind.
"I've taught you everything I can."
Ren parted his lips, intending to say something. Maybe a word of thanks, or a lingering question in his mind. But he fell silent, realizing there was nothing left to say.
Gareth didn't wait for a response. He turned away, striding away from the training ground, his steady, unwavering figure disappearing into the distance.
"From now on, your swordsmanship… is something you'll have to refine on your own. You'd best find your own style, sooner rather than later. Imitating others, it's faster at first, but it'll hold you back in the long run."
Ren could only watch in silence, his eyes burning with newfound determination, though a lingering reluctance remained. That figure grew smaller, fading into the dim glow of dusk.
He stood there until a deep, rough voice pulled him back to reality.
"Hey, kid."
Ren startled, turning around.
Before him stood a tall, imposing man with sharp eyes, the father of Commander Gareth, the renowned blacksmith of the area.
In his hands was a familiar sword, yet at the same time, entirely different.
The blade had been reforged with superior steel, gleaming razor-sharp under the evening light. Wolf fangs were carefully inlaid along the hilt, a reminder of the battles Ren had fought.
The blacksmith studied him for a moment, then let out a low grunt, extending the sword toward him.
"It's yours. Try not to break it."
Ren slowly reached out and took the sword.
The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a system notification flashed before his eyes:
[Black Fang]
Type: One-handed Sword
Rarity: Rare
Attack Power: 32 - 46
Durability: 140/140
Special Effect: +5% damage against beast-type monsters
Materials: Refined steel, Alpha wolf fang, reinforced leather
Ren gazed at the blade under the fading sunlight. The polished metal reflected the light, forming a thin silver streak along its edge.
It wasn't just stronger, it suited him better, as if it had truly become a part of him.
A sword was more than just a weapon.
It was a milestone, a testament to the journey he had walked.
Ren tightened his grip, the weight in his heart gradually lifting, replaced by a quiet resolve. He gave a slight nod, his voice low but steady.
"Thank you."
Under the dim twilight, the blacksmith crossed his arms, leaning against the frame of his shop, his sharp gaze still locked onto Ren.
"So, what's next?"
A simple question, yet Ren hesitated for a moment.
In the past, he had never had a clear answer. Only a single thought had always circled in his mind: Survive.
But now, things were different. He could fight. He could earn money without gambling his life in the hands of others. He was no longer backed into suffocating corners, no longer the person who only knew how to run.
Ren lowered his gaze, staring at the sword in his hand.
Make money.
Find a place to live.
That was it.
He was tired of sleeping under the open sky, of curling up in freezing street corners on winter nights, of constantly keeping one hand on his coin pouch while sleeping, fearing that someone might steal what little he had left.
He didn't want to live like that anymore.
Lifting his head, his eyes held a newfound determination.
"I need money." He answered simply.
The blacksmith raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by the blunt response. "Huh? That's a pretty small dream."
Ren didn't argue.
The old man let out a huff, arms crossed, a hint of mockery in his gaze.
"Young folks these days really have no ambition. Most others go on about wanting to be great warriors, legendary heroes, arena champions, or at the very least, the strongest swordsman in a guild. And you? You just want a house?"
Ren chuckled, not a laugh of rebuttal or defense, but simply because he found it amusing.
Because in the real world, even having a home had never been a part of his dreams.
A place of his own? A sturdy roof to return to after a long day? Those things had never truly existed for him.
But here, in this world… he could see it. A simple goal, a modest wish, but at least, it was something he could achieve with his own hands.
Shaking his head, his voice was calm but firm.
"No need for grand ambitions. I just want to live well first."
The blacksmith studied him for a long moment before letting out a deep chuckle. It was hard to tell whether it was in ridicule or approval.
"Practical."
He turned to step back into his shop, but before disappearing behind the worn wooden door, his rough voice echoed back.
"When you've saved up enough, come back. Maybe I can help you find a good place."
Ren stood there for a moment, watching as the old man vanished from sight.
Then, he let out a slow breath, fingers tightening around the sword's hilt.
Under the dimming sky, he turned and strode forward, stepping into the descending night.
Starting tomorrow… he would begin his true journey to earn money.
Ren walked through the cobblestone streets, where the faint glow of taverns and small shops flickered in the darkness.
The night was quieter than the day, yet the occasional sounds of laughter, the clanging of metal from blacksmiths working late, and the murmurs of merchants finalizing their last deals still drifted through the air.
The night draped the town in an eerie sense of tranquility, but to Ren, it was a stark reminder that he still had no place to truly call his own.
Make money. Buy a house.
It sounded mundane, but it was the most realistic goal he could set for himself right now.
Not the dream of becoming a legendary warrior. Not the ambition of conquering Aincrad's highest floors.
Just a home to return to after a long day of fighting. A small corner that belonged solely to him, where he could rest without worrying about prying eyes or the unease that crept in whenever night fell.
Ren lifted his gaze to the sky, where scattered stars shimmered against the deep darkness above.
In the real world, he had never thought about owning a house. It was a distant dream, something he never even dared to imagine. But here, in Aincrad, it was no longer impossible.
He just needed to earn enough Cor.
Other players passed him by, each preoccupied with their own paths.
Some excitedly discussed their hunting plans for tomorrow, others meticulously checked their equipment, while a few haggled with NPCs to sell off surplus items.
A small crowd gathered in front of the quest board, debating the rewards of newly posted missions.
Ren paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the numbers and lines of text on the board. Most were familiar tasks, hunting monsters, gathering materials, escorting NPCs.
A few seemed more dangerous, requiring the hunting of rare creatures or exploration of unmarked territories.
He wasn't in a rush to take a quest just yet. Tomorrow, he would start slowly but surely. Step by step, he would earn enough Cor to turn his goal into reality.
Tightening his grip on his sword, he continued down the familiar path.
And this time, he had no intention of failing.
Ren returned to the inn, his footsteps light, but his mind weighed down with thoughts.
The lights inside were still on. A few players gathered in the lobby, chatting, trading items, or simply resting before their journey continued the next day.
The familiar scent of food wafted from the kitchen, but Ren no longer felt hungry.
He silently ascended the wooden staircase, the creaking sound echoing through the quiet space.
Once inside his room, he shut the door and leaned against it for a moment.
The room was small, cramped, and plain, but compared to sleeping on the streets or in run-down lodgings, this place was much better.
Ren placed his sword on the table, running a hand lightly along the blade. The cold metal sent a chill through his palm.
This sword had carried him through countless battles, and now, it would be the tool that brought him closer to his goal.
Opening his status window, he glanced at the translucent screen in front of him.
Name: Ren
Level: 6
Cor: 5,270
Ren smirked faintly. He was still far from his goal. Even the cheapest house in the Starting Town cost around 50,000 Cor, more if it was an old house that needed repairs.
He needed to make money faster, more efficiently.
The most viable option was hunting monsters. But weak ones wouldn't do, the earnings were too low.
If he wanted to save up quickly, he had to target monsters with higher rewards.
Letting out a deep sigh, Ren lay down on the bed.
Tomorrow, he would begin his real journey to make money.
Not for fame. Not to become the strongest.
But simply to have a place to call home.