By the time Knight limped back into town, the sun had already begun to sink, casting long shadows over the cobbled streets. The makeshift bandages around his arm and legs were soaked through with blood, and more than once he stumbled.
He reached the guild with sheer willpower alone.
Pushing the doors open with his shoulder, he staggered inside, drawing a few wary glances from the few adventurers still lingering in the building. The receptionist from earlier was still at her post, scribbling something behind the desk.
She looked up.
Her pen stopped mid-stroke.
"...What the hell happened to you?!"
Knight didn't answer. He simply reached into his pocket and pulled out three bloodied wolf fangs, dropping them onto the counter.
She stared at them. Then at him. Then back to the fangs.
"You actually… finished it?" she asked, wide-eyed. "But you're just a…" Her voice faltered as her eyes moved to the deep bite on his arm, the gouges across his legs. "You're seriously hurt."
Knight gave a slow nod, wobbling slightly.
The receptionist quickly rummaged under the desk, pulling out a small leather pouch and placing it on the counter.
"Here. Your reward. Ten silver. And sit down before you pass out."
He took the pouch with blood-crusted fingers, blinking at the weight in his hand. Ten silver. Real money. Earned through his own effort.
He didn't know how valuable a single silver coin was but it was probably enough for himself to get some food.
She flagged down someone, a staff healer who hurried over, muttering under his breath and casting a low-tier healing spell. The magic was weak, barely enough to close the worst wounds, but the sharpest pain dulled and the bleeding finally stopped.
Knight exhaled as warmth seeped into his limbs.
"Better?" the receptionist asked, gentler now.
He nodded again. "Yeah. Thanks."
There was a pause.
She gave him a half-smile. "Don't die before your second quest, alright?"
He turned to leave, stepping out into the evening light. The ache in his body was still there, and he was barely holding himself together.
But his pouch was heavier than before.
The sky had turned a soft navy by the time Knight wandered behind the guild building.
He hadn't realized how quiet the town got after sunset. The crowd, the noise, the clatter of hooves and chatter of merchants it all faded away like it had been a dream. Now there was only the faint chirping of insects and the occasional echo of footsteps somewhere far off.
He found a spot between two empty crates and sat down on the ground.
It wasn't much. The stone was cold, and he could still feel the dirt through his pants. But it was out of the wind, and more importantly no one was around to ask what a kid with a beat-up sword was doing alone at night.
He leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly.
"…Guess this makes me officially homeless."
No applause. No fireworks. Just the chirping of bugs and the distant clatter of someone closing a tavern door.
He glanced at the pouch on his belt. A few coins. Just enough to get him by for tomorrow, probably not enough for a room. He could've asked the receptionist about an inn or cheap housing, but he didn't know how to ask without sounding desperate.
It wasn't like he minded sleeping outside. The breeze was nice. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to stay homeless forever.
"I'll figure it out," he said softly, more to himself than anything.
His back slid a little against the wall, his body relaxing. The city was quieter now. People had homes to return to. He didn't yet but that didn't mean he wouldn't.
Today he hunted wolves. He got hurt. He didn't run away.
That had to mean something.
A small, tired smile pulled at the edge of his lips. His hand throbbed, and his legs still stung.
Knight closed his eyes. The stars above didn't seem to mind keeping him company.
Knight woke up to the sun nudging at his face and the sharp reminder that dirt was not a mattress.
His body ached.
His shoulder throbbed from the wolf bite. His hand was wrapped in fabric, crusted dark with dried blood. His back hated him. And worst of all, he was starving.
Stiffly, he stood, brushing grass and dust off his clothes. He hadn't slept well he'd half-woken every few minutes to strange noises, stray dogs, and the occasional drunk stumbling down the alley.
He followed the scent of fresh bread until he reached a small bakery wedged between a potion shop and a fruit stall. A sleepy-eyed elf woman handed him a chunk of day-old bread for 5 copper. He thanked her quietly and sat on a crate nearby, chewing slowly.
It was hard. A little bland. But it was warm. And right now, warm bread was enough.
After eating, he wandered back to the guild.
The receptionist glanced up as he stepped inside still limping, still bandaged, still looking like a stray dog that hadn't been adopted. She gave him a polite nod. Maybe she'd gotten used to seeing him around.
He checked the quest board. Goblin slaying was the only monster hunting steel ranked quests.
Too dangerous. He picked a labor job instead with an illustration of a wooden box.
Moving cargo for a merchant. Cleaning out horse stalls. Hauling buckets for a blacksmith's apprentice. Nothing glorious, nothing like the stories.
But it paid enough to eat.
For the next week, that was Knight's life.
Wake up behind the guild, sore and stiff. Buy bread. Do quests. Sleep wherever he could. Sometimes it rained, sometimes his wounds reopened from carrying too much. Sometimes he couldn't finish the job and got paid half.
But he kept showing up.
By the seventh day, the receptionist actually greeted him first.
"Back again?"
Knight blinked with his dark circle covered eyes. Then nodded. "Yeah."
She smiled faintly. "You're tougher than you look."
He wasn't sure whether it was a compliment or not. But someone had finally spoken to him without suspicion or dismissal.
That afternoon, he finished another labor quest—carrying heavy crates from a dock to a warehouse on the edge of town. The job was grueling and left his palms red and raw, but the pay was decent: five copper coins.
He spent two on bread, one on a cheap salve for his shoulder, and held on to the rest. A strange kind of pride swelled in his chest as he walked out of the general store, coins clinking faintly in his pocket. He'd earned this. Without cheating. Without shortcuts.
As the sky turned gold and shadows lengthened, Knight made his way toward the usual alley behind the guild. He slid down to the ground with a sigh and rested his back against the wall, the ache in his body a familiar weight now.
"Hey. You're homeless or somethin'?"
The voice startled him.
Knight looked up.
A boy, maybe his age or a little younger, stood nearby holding a bag of groceries. He had messy brown hair, a cheerful grin, and the kind of relaxed posture that made it look like he belonged everywhere at once.
"…What?"
"You're here every night. Sleeping on stone. I'm guessing that means you're broke and got nowhere to stay?" the boy said, casually squatting down next to him. "Kinda obvious."
Knight blinked. "And you're…?"
"Oh, right. Toby. My parents run an inn near the south gate."
Toby set the bag down and offered a hand.
"You can crash there, if you want. Got a spare room no one's using anyway."
Knight stared at the hand.
"…Why?"
Toby shrugged. "I dunno. You look like you could use it. And I don't like seeing people sleep on cold stones. That's all."
Knight didn't take his hand. Not yet. But his fingers twitched.
"…You don't even know me."
Toby smiled, not backing away. "Guess I will, if you say yes."
It was strange. For a moment, Knight wanted to say no. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the fear that kindness like this couldn't be real. But his body was tired, and his chest ached not from wounds, but from something heavier.
"…Fine," Knight muttered, standing up slowly. "But what's the cost?"
"Sure," Toby said with a grin. "50 copper a week"
"I guess I can pay that much. Names knight by the way"
He sighed while slowly standing up, patting off dirt and small pebbles from his pants.
"Lead the way"
Toby walked a few paces ahead, only glancing back once to make sure Knight was still following.
The inn they stopped at was modest a little weathered around the edges but well-kept. Flowerpots lined the windowsills, and the scent of baked bread and old wood clung to the air. A crooked sign creaked gently above the door: "Merrin's Nest Inn."
Inside, the main room was quiet. The older woman at the desk didn't ask questions. She simply exchanged a key for the clinking pile of copper Knight placed on the counter.
Room 3A.
The walk up the stairs was quiet. When Knight opened the door, he paused for a moment.
It was a small bed, a narrow desk, and a single chair. A basin of water sat by the window, and the sunlight filtered through a thin curtain, painting the floor with warmth. Simple, but clean.
He stepped inside and set his pack down with a soft thump.
Behind him, Toby gave a small nod. "That's it."
Knight looked over his shoulder. "Alright."
Toby raised a hand in a half-wave and turned to leave. No lingering, no small talk. Knight appreciated that.
When the door shut, silence returned.
Knight stood still for a moment, taking it all in. The bed, the light, the stillness.
Then he sat down, slowly. The mattress dipped beneath him, the fabric scratchy but soft. For the first time in days, he didn't have to keep one eye open.
He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
The room was silent, save for the occasional creak of old wood or the distant murmur of footsteps downstairs. Knight lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, eyes open in the dark.
Sleep didn't come.
His body ached from the past week labor quests, bruises from wolf fangs, the constant weight of exhaustion but his mind wouldn't shut off.
Eventually, with a sigh, he sat up. The room was stuffy, so he stood and walked over to the small window. He unlatched it gently, pushing it open with a soft creak.
A cool night breeze slipped in.
The town was quieter than he expected. Lanterns flickered on distant corners. Somewhere, a drunk sang off-key, but otherwise, the world was still.
He leaned against the window frame, resting his arms on the sill.
Above him, stars dotted the sky more vivid than anything he'd seen in his old world. Not that he ever went outside to go stargazing. Just a calm sky that stretched forever.
He exhaled slowly, eyes tracking a faint shooting star across the horizon.
"This… isn't a game," he muttered under his breath.
He wasn't leveling up. He wasn't gaining XP. He had no special gear, no overpowered skills.
He had sore muscles, blisters on his hands, and no clue what tomorrow held.
No job. No friends. No roof over his head until an hour ago. And if he ran out of coins, even that would be gone.
He rubbed the bandaged bite on his arm. It still stung.
"I need a plan," he murmured. "A real one."
Becoming an adventurer sounded simple in the beginning. Now it felt like trying to climb a mountain with bare hands and no shoes.
Do quests. Get money. Stay alive.
That was the short-term plan.
But to get promoted to higher ranks, becoming stronger and learning new combat skills were mandatory. But where will he learn these?
He looked down at his hands, still trembling slightly from fatigue. He didn't know what he wanted yet but he knew he didn't want to die meaninglessly in some alley or monster den.
With one last glance at the stars, Knight shut the window and turned back to the bed. It still felt unfamiliar. But maybe that was okay.
He lay down again. The ache in his muscles remained, but his mind, at least, had quieted.
Sleep came slowly. Uneven. But he was able to fall asleep