The steady rhythm of hammer against metal echoed through the courtyard forge.
Lucien's arms ached, sweat rolling down his temple, but he didn't stop. At his feet, dozens of half-finished blades lay scattered across the stone floor, proof of his restless discipline.
Mr. Roger, the Beaumont family's old butler, stood quietly by the doorway, a tray of tea in his hands.
"Mr. Lucien," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Madame de Beaumont will not be returning immediately."
Lucien paused, resting the hammer against the anvil. "Is there a problem?"
Mr. Roger shook his head. "No, sir. She merely has… matters to attend to in the north."
Lucien nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "Good. As long as she's safe."
He turned back to his work. The forge hissed as he plunged a glowing blade into the cooling basin. Steam rose like white fire, and just then, a familiar blue window appeared before his eyes.
[Level Up]
Level 3 Reached
New Skill Unlocked: Temper Resilience
Your blades now possess increased durability.
Lucien exhaled, staring at the message. Durability, huh? He looked at the pile of swords around him. Most had shattered, cracked, or warped during testing. The new one, though… it felt different.
He raised the blade, letting the morning light slide along its edge. "Let's see what you're worth."
Activating his other skill, he whispered, "Appraisal."
[Appraisal Result]
Durability: Slightly Increased
Sharpness: Standard
Balance: Above Average
Lucien smiled faintly. "Better than before."
He'd made two new swords this time, replacements for the one that had nearly failed him during his last battle. He had been lucky to survive. Lucky… or protected.
"God must have been watching over me," he murmured. Then, after a pause, his voice hardened. "But I can't let Him do all the work."
He cleaned his tools, sheathed his new blade, and set out once again.
The afternoon sun bathed the streets of Lyon in gold as Lucien approached the familiar Rift. The same guard from before waved when he saw him.
"Oh, you're back already, Lucien?"
Lucien nodded. "I need to test something."
The guard chuckled. "Well, you won't be alone this time. Some rookies went in not long ago, kids about your age. If you cross paths with them, give them a hand, yeah?"
Lucien tilted his head slightly, his eyes calm. "Of course. It's my vocation."
The guard blinked. "Oh... right, you mean… as a Hunter?"
Lucien just smiled, stepping past him toward the Rift. The light of the portal shimmered across his armor as he whispered under his breath.
"My calling is to protect."
And with that, he disappeared into the light once more.
Lucien stepped through the Rift.
The air shifted instantly... thick, damp, and heavy with the smell of moss and metal. The faint blue light of the tunnels flickered along the rough stone walls.
He had barely walked a dozen steps before the sounds reached him.
Metal clashing. Shouts. The ragged breathing of the inexperienced.
Lucien moved toward the noise, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. As he turned a corner, the scene came into view.
Three young Hunters. Two boys and a girl.
The first was up front, swinging a short sword far too heavy for him. The other two lingered behind, one chanting awkwardly, the other trembling with a bow half-drawn.
Lucien watched for a moment. Their footwork was clumsy, their formation broken. No coordination. No awareness.
They were alive only because the goblins in front of them were as foolish as they were.
Then he saw it... two more goblins creeping along the shadows behind them, daggers glinting in the dim light.
Lucien exhaled slowly. Amateurs.
He planted his left foot firmly, lowered his stance, and drew his blade in one clean motion. The steel cut the air with a sharp whistle.
A single swing.
Two heads fell.
The goblins' bodies hit the ground before the young Hunters even realized what had happened.
The trio spun around, eyes wide.
Lucien stood behind them, sword dripping green blood, his cloak shifting slightly with the breeze.
"Pay attention to your surroundings," he said calmly. "An enemy can come from anywhere and at any time."
He stepped toward the mage and grabbed him lightly by the collar, pulling him forward until their eyes met.
"You. Your job is to protect their backs. Don't ever lose sight of that."
Then he turned to the boy with the sword, who still looked stunned.
"And you... don't rush ahead. Your brothers-in-arms depend on you. Never fight alone."
The three of them just stared, speechless.
Lucien's tone softened. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"All right," he said, lowering his sword and nodding toward the tunnel ahead. "Let's start over."