The sun had just begun to rise over the city, its weak rays slipping through the thick curtains of the tavern room. The air hung heavy with the scent of wood, dust, and yesterday's wine. Everything felt still, calming — the perfect morning to sink deeper into sleep.
But that fragile peace shattered within a minute.
A hand shot out from under the blanket, fingers fumbling blindly until they found a familiar metal flask. Lifting it with some effort, dry lips took a long gulp.
Silence.
Then — a violent coughing fit and a growl of indignation.
"What the hell...? Water?!"
Elgot sat up, staring at the flask as if it had just committed high treason. His eyebrows knit together over the bridge of his nose, and his mouth twisted into a look of deep betrayal.
"Who? WHO in all the bloody realms swapped my wine for this swill?!"
He was already mid-swing, ready to hurl the treacherous flask into a corner, when something caught him.
The room was too... quiet.
Usually, mornings like this were filled with the grumbling of his young apprentice, half-asleep, whining about sore muscles, a stiff back, and cursing every slug in existence.
But today—nothing.
Elgot slowly turned his head to the left.
Kano's bed was empty.
The mage blinked.
"Huh?"
He scanned the room — the bedding was rumpled, but not in the way someone would leave it after a full night's sleep. The window was slightly ajar, though he distinctly remembered shutting it tightly the night before.
Odd.
"Probably downstairs already," he muttered, cracking his neck. "Waiting with a bottle of wine and a stupid grin, ready to train. Good on you, you little idiot... even I didn't think you'd bounce back so quick after yesterday's disaster."
He tossed the flask onto the table and stood up.
But a knot of unease had already started tightening somewhere deep inside him.
The wooden stairs groaned under his boots.
The tavern was still in its half-dead morning state — a few regulars sat slumped in the far corner, drinking away their regrets, and the innkeeper, lazily wiping a glass, stared out the window at the pale sunrise.
Elgot swept the room with a glance.
No Kano.
The mage's brow twitched.
"Hey," he called to the innkeeper. "You seen a kid? Big dreams, dumb as a bag of rocks, thought he could outgrow me overnight?"
The man didn't lift his gaze from the glass, just muttered:
"Went out."
Elgot narrowed his eyes.
"What do you mean, 'went out'? When? Where?"
At last, the innkeeper met his gaze — calm, steady, the look of someone who'd seen too many young fools rush off to meet their fates.
"Before dawn," he said. "Looked like someone ready to test his luck."
Silence fell.
Elgot didn't move, but the air seemed to hum, charged with something heavy and unseen.
There it was.
Idiot.
Idiot.
IDIOT.
"Oh, you utter fool..." Elgot pressed a hand to his forehead, massaging the bridge of his nose.
He didn't need to ask more. He knew.
Knew exactly what had happened.
The boy had left.
Gone out alone.
And for the first time, real fear stirred in Elgot's chest.
Goblins didn't just fight.
They thought.
They waited.
They hurt.
And now, his pride — his foolish illusion of strength — had pushed Kano to make the stupidest decision of his short life.
He'd run off to train.
Alone.
Elgot gave the innkeeper a grim look, then drew a deep breath.
"Well then..."
His hand instinctively reached for the flask at his belt — but it froze midway.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he had no desire to drink.
With a sharp motion, he pulled his hat low over his brow, gripped his staff tighter, and turned toward the door.
He shoved it open, letting the icy morning air rush in — along with something heavier, something invisible... but inevitable.
Kano had chosen to become stronger.
Now he'd have to survive to prove it.
And if he didn't— Elgot pulled up his cloak against the wind, stepping into the unknown.
...Well then.
I'm not letting that little fool die so easily.
The guild was always a place of chaos — noise, clatter, endless chatter.
The massive hall on the first floor was usually alive with adventurers, mercenaries, merchants — all hustling for contracts, drinks, or just a shred of camaraderie.
But today, there was a new undercurrent running through the noise.
A sharp, palpable thread woven into the air.
Anger.
The anger of a mage who was cutting through the room like a blade.
The guild doors slammed open as Elgot stormed in. His movements were sharp, almost violent, his eyes narrowed into furious slits, fingers clenching his staff so tightly the wood creaked.
He looked like a man who had come to bury someone—and very much intended to do it personally.
First to fall victim to his wrath was the registrar at the entrance, a short dwarf with oversized spectacles who, startled by the sudden intrusion, spilled his inkwell all over a stack of papers.
"You!" Elgot barked, slamming a hand onto the desk and leaning in. "Have you seen Kano?!"
"What? Who?" the dwarf blinked rapidly, trying to understand why a furious drunk with lightning crackling in his eyes was breathing down his neck.
"The boy! Black hair, dumb as a rock, my apprentice! Have you seen him or not?!"
"Uh... no, no, I don't think so..." the dwarf stammered, frantically wiping at the ink.
Elgot exhaled sharply, spinning around on his heel toward the rest of the guild hall.
"ANYONE SEEN KANO?!" his voice thundered through the hall, making a few newbies visibly flinch.
But the answer was always the same—blank stares, shaken heads.
The mage interrogated anyone he could find—elven archers, a group of dwarves, even an orc warrior who nearly flattened him into the wall for his rough tone.
Result: nothing.
"Fine..." he muttered under his breath, eyes flashing a dangerous red.
Then he roared at the top of his lungs:
"I'm going to kill him! I swear I will!"
The guild fell into a stunned silence.
Someone froze mid-swig, others instinctively edged away, but most simply shrugged.
"Kill who?"
A dry, sarcastic voice came from behind him.
Elgot whipped around.
Standing there, hands on her hips, was Naira — tired eyes, but still burning with that familiar stubborn fire.
"What are you mumbling about, drunkard? Who exactly are you planning to kill?"
The mage tossed his hat onto the nearest table, leaned heavily on his staff, and growled:
"That little fool who decided he's ready to be a hero after yesterday's disaster! He's gone, and not a single idiot in this guild has the slightest clue where!"
Naira listened, then rolled her eyes with theatrical patience.
"Oh, for spirits' sake, you're the real fool! You let him go off on his own?! What, couldn't think of anything stupider to do?!"
Elgot stepped forward, teeth clenched.
"I didn't let him do anything! I woke up and he was already gone!"
"And what did you expect?!" Naira jabbed a finger at him. "Yesterday you rode him like a stubborn mule and threw him at the goblins! He thought he was strong—and barely crawled back alive!"
Elgot felt his jaw tighten painfully.
"He needed a reality check."
"Yeah, well, congrats, genius! Reality checked him so hard he ran off like a broken toy!"
She pressed her palms to her temples, then flung her hands out in frustration.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! You shoved a greenhorn into a solo adventure like he was some seasoned veteran! If he dies out there, it's on you!"
Elgot gave a grim, mocking smile.
"If he dies, that's one less fool cluttering up the guild."
Naira clenched her fists, trembling with rage.
"You drive me insane, you old— experienced," he snapped.
"Old idiot!" she shot back without missing a beat.
She turned sharply and stalked toward the front desk, then threw a shout over her shoulder:
"Try the stream!"
"What?"
"Where you trained! By the water, at the clearing!"
Elgot rolled his eyes heavenward.
"Fantastic. Back to the forest. My favorite bloody thing."
"Just go already!"
The mage didn't argue further.
He snatched his hat from the table, jammed it down on his head, and stormed out without a backward glance.
Naira watched him until the door slammed behind him.
She sighed heavily, rubbing her temples, and muttered:
"Kano, if you're still alive, you're about to have the worst day of your life..."
The world around him was still.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, the grass unmoving, the trees frozen in suspended silence. Only the faint murmur of the stream reminded that life hadn't completely ground to a halt.
Kano sat on the clearing, motionless.
His gaze was turned downward, but he wasn't really seeing the earth.
He was staring into nothingness.
In his hands, he clutched a helmet.
The same one he had found under the rock on his first day.
The same one that, perhaps, was the only thing left to remind him he still had a chance.
If there even was one.
Kano didn't know anymore.
His fingers gripped the edges of the helmet tighter, a crushing weight building inside his chest.
Not physical pain — something far, far worse.
How utterly pointless this all is...
Memories.
Raw, humiliating, merciless.
They surged up without warning, crashing into his mind like a nightmare that refused to let go.
The office.
Years ago.
"Hey, Kano! Fetch some coffee!"
"Oh look, he's so obedient! You're the perfect corporate slave, kid!"
Laughter.
Loud, mocking.
He stood in the doorway, clutching two paper cups in trembling hands.
And then one slipped.
Splosh.
Hot liquid soaked into the carpet.
Silence.
Then — more laughter.
Harder.
Sharper.
Crueler.
"God, he can't even use both hands properly!"
Kano froze.
His mind screamed, Say something! Fight back! Stop it!
But his body stood there, mute and helpless.
His lips pressed into a thin line. He just nodded and smiled, a hollow, broken thing—while inside, he was screaming.
Why?
Why didn't he say anything?
The schoolyard. A rainy day.
A sharp punch to the gut.
Kano collapsed onto the wet asphalt, gasping for air. Muddy water mixed with blood trickling from his split lip.
Someone hurled his schoolbag into the trash.
"He won't even fight back!"
"What, gonna swallow it all in silence again, just like always?"
He knew.
He knew that if he said a single word, it would only get worse.
So he stayed silent.
Home. Late evening.
His mother sat in the kitchen, eyes glued to the flickering TV.
"Why are you always like this? Why can't you, just once, do something for yourself?"
There was no anger in her voice.
Only disappointment.
Kano stood there, frozen.
Disappointment.
It coiled inside his chest like a knife twisting in slow, merciless circles.
His whole life— one endless, echoing disappointment.
Back to the present. The clearing.
He grabbed his head, squeezing his temples.
Enough. Enough!
But the memories didn't stop.
They tightened around him like a noose.
His breath came in short, shaking gasps.
His hands trembled.
Kano raised the helmet in front of him, staring into the faint reflection on its polished surface.
"I'm nobody."
The words slipped out of him in a hollow, broken whisper.
"I've always been nobody. Just... a burden."
The helmet slipped from his fingers and crashed onto the ground with a dull, heavy thud.
Kano didn't even flinch.
He just sat there, staring at it as if it were a stranger's belonging.
"I thought... if I ended up here, everything would change."
"I thought this was a second chance."
"I thought I could finally become someone."
He let out a bitter laugh, dry and sharp.
"But no. I'm still the same useless coward."
He dragged his hands down his face, feeling the feverish heat burning under his skin.
"Elgot thinks I'm an idiot."
"Naira probably despises me."
"Those goblins yesterday... they could've killed me. I didn't even move."
Kano closed his eyes.
"I'm not a hero."
"I'm not an adventurer."
"I'm just a mistake."
His fingers trembled uncontrollably now.
His chest heaved, shallow and tight.
He felt dead—without having even died.
What was he doing here?
Why had he even tried?
Nobody needed him.
Not here.
Not there.
Nowhere.
And then— something shifted.
Kano didn't know how long he'd been sitting like that.
Ten minutes? An hour?
Time had melted into nothing.
But when a cold gust of wind brushed against his skin, something stirred deep within his chest.
Not hope.
Not resolve.
Something rawer.
Older.
Buried so deep he had almost forgotten it existed.
Anger.
Not at the world.
Not at the goblins.
At himself.
"Enough."
His voice came out differently this time.
Low. Strained.
Alive.
He leaned forward, slowly, and picked up the helmet with both hands, gripping it hard.
"ENOUGH."
His chest heaved; his fingers clenched so tightly the knuckles went white.
He didn't know what he would do next.
Didn't know how.
But one thing was certain:
He would no longer allow himself to be a burden.
The clearing answered him with silence.
But only for a heartbeat.
Because the next moment, it exploded with the roar of his voice.
"You damned, thick-headed fool!"
Elgot burst from the woods like a thunderstorm.
His cloak whipped violently behind him, his staff crackling with raw magic, and his eyes blazed with such fury it seemed even the trees shrank back.
Kano barely had time to lift his head before the mage stormed toward him and hurled a bottle at the ground. Glass shattered, and dark wine bled into the grass like a spreading wound.
"You thought you'd just sit here and die like some abandoned mutt?!"
Elgot's voice cracked through the clearing like a whip.
"You think you're the only damned soul carrying the weight of the world?! Hell, you're just a coward hiding in his own snot the moment things get hard!"
Kano scrambled to his feet, wide-eyed and trembling with rage.
But the mage was only getting started.
"When something knocks you down, you get up! You fall, you rise, you fight, you fall again, and you keep fighting harder! But you—what did you do?! YOU RAN!"
Elgot took a step closer, looming over him.
"You miserable scrap of flesh! You're supposed to change the world! Shape it to your own will! You've got the fire, but you act like a whimpering brat!"
Kano trembled all over.
"No, you know what?" Elgot snarled, "Girls are tougher than you! At least they've got some spine! You—YOU! I don't even know what to call you!"
Kano's teeth ground together.
His chest heaved so fast it felt like he would explode.
And then—he snapped.
"Oh, look who's talking!" Kano roared, his voice tearing out of him like a beast finally freed. "The great, mighty mage who does nothing all day but drink himself stupid until he stinks worse than a dead goblin!"
Elgot froze.
The boy wasn't done.
"Why don't you, oh legendary master, ever do a damned thing to change your own miserable life?!"
Elgot's lips twitched, but no words came.
"Why do you just sit in taverns like some lost rat, rotting in the stink of spilled ale and broken dreams?!"
Kano stalked closer, anger pulsing like fire in his veins.
"You've got nothing left! Nothing but boogers in your nose, dirt under your nails, and—oh, wait! Almost forgot—the biggest pile of bar tabs in the entire damned guild!"
Elgot's hands trembled on his staff.
For the first time in years, he was speechless.
The so-called drunken legend, the mage who mocked and scorned everyone weaker than him— now stood frozen as a boy, a boy he thought he could break with words, shoved the truth straight into his heart like a dagger.
The wind sighed through the trees.
The stream murmured at the edge of the clearing.
But this wasn't a battlefield of spells and strength anymore.
It was a battlefield of two shattered men.
One who hated himself for his weakness.
One who hated himself for the life he had wasted.
Elgot stood there, saying nothing.
He no longer saw just a boy standing before him.
Kano wasn't just a scared apprentice anymore.
He was a warrior now—one who had finally realized the real battle wasn't out there.
It was inside.
The fury in Kano's eyes wasn't aimed at Elgot.
It was turned inward.
At his own failures.
At his own past.
And he knew what he had to do.
Elgot stayed silent.
For the first time in a very, very long time, he had no words to give.
His own thoughts battered against the inside of his skull, leaving him reeling.
He hadn't expected this.
He hadn't expected Kano to fight back—not with fists or magic—but with the only weapon that truly mattered: the truth.
"A failed mage who does nothing but drink."
"Why didn't you change your life?"
"You have nothing left—only debts and dirt."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Because they weren't insults.
They were true.
Every one of them.
Elgot didn't rage.
He didn't lash out.
He didn't try to crush the boy for his insolence.
He simply stood there, feeling something inside him crack, something he had buried long ago under layers of cynicism, alcohol, and bitter pride.
He was just like this boy.
He had fallen once.
And he had never gotten back up.
But maybe...
Maybe it wasn't too late.
His fingers slowly loosened around the staff.
Without looking at Kano, Elgot turned his head slightly over his shoulder and said:
"Get stronger, you little idiot."
His voice was different now.
No mockery.
No scorn.
Just quiet, steady resolve.
"Before I get back."
He began to walk away, his steps slow, deliberate.
"And for the love of all that's holy— don't you dare die like some worthless rag."
He didn't look back.
He just walked toward the mountains.
Kano watched in silence.
The wind swept across the clearing, tugging at his hair, plastering his damp shirt against his skin.
He didn't know what he was feeling.
Confusion? Lightness? A strange kind of relief?
Maybe all of it at once.
But one thing, one thing he knew for certain.
For the first time in his life,
he didn't want someone to coddle him.
For the first time,
he understood he didn't need it anymore.
Elgot was gone.
And now he was truly alone.
And for the first time— it didn't scare him.