Cling! Cling!
The sound of iron striking stone echoed deep inside the cave. In a narrow pit, a young man, bare from the waist up, swung his pickaxe again and again. A small oil lamp burned beside him, casting unsteady light over the rock face where he aimed each strike.
After dozens of heavy swings, a section of stone finally cracked and broke loose. Among the shattered fragments lay a white crystal the size of a baby's fist. He picked it up at once and stepped closer to the lamp to inspect it. After brushing away the dirt, he slipped it into the pouch hanging at his waist.
Jasper had been mining in the Obsidian Rock Mountains, a vast range filled with abandoned caves. True to their name, the mountains were formed from hardened black stone that required more than ordinary strength to chip even an inch. A century ago, every cave had contained veins of crystals, gems, and minerals.
Those days were long gone. The mountains had been mined to their core and eventually deserted. Now, no one came to these caves except Jasper. Though the valuable deposits were exhausted, a certain type of common-grade crystal could still be found. Cheap and abundant in the market, they were the only things left in the emptied rock.
For Jasper, those overlooked crystals were the only income supporting his mother and younger sister.
In this world, when a person turned fifteen, they awakened a special trait that determined their path in life. But not everyone received such a blessing. Some were passed over by whatever higher power granted those abilities.
Six months ago, Jasper had been one of them.
Without an awakened trait, he had no choice but to find another way to survive. He tried working as a blacksmith's apprentice, a dungeon porter, and a herbal collector. But without a compatible trait skill, he could not properly handle a forging hammer. He lacked the endurance to venture deep into dungeons and could not tell valuable herbs from ordinary plants.
In the end, he turned to mining. The work demanded pure physical strength—something he sorely lacked—and the mining guilds rejected him. Without steady income, his family would starve. So he chose these abandoned mountains instead, where no guild enforced restrictions.
At first, he could not even carve a few inches into the rock and often returned home empty-handed. The strain during the first week left him bedridden. Even so, he came back. Strike after strike, his body gradually adapted to the pain, and crystal shards slowly began to appear beneath his pickaxe.
To earn sixty to eighty silver coins, he needed at least two pounds of crystal shards. That was enough to buy food, but never enough when illness struck—something that happened often in his home. His mother fell sick regularly, yet he did not have the money to take her to the Medicine House for a proper examination.
He knew her condition was not minor. It required diagnosis and treatment. But with what he earned, a physician remained out of reach. For three months, that weight had pressed on him, driving him to work longer and swing harder in the hope of saving enough for her care.
Feeling the rock loosen, Jasper put more force into his next strike.
Clang!
The stone shattered and fell to the ground. He paused for a moment, licking his dry lips.
He grabbed the small water pouch strapped to his hip and took a few quick sips. After catching his breath, he crouched and searched through the debris.
No crystal.
Crystals were not hidden in every inch of stone, but he could not afford to miss even the smallest fragment. Every swing cost him effort.
He stood up, using the pickaxe for support, and scanned the wall for his next target.
Then his eyes caught a tiny white speck—no larger than the tip of a needle.
"Is that a crystal?" he muttered.
He stepped closer and wiped at it with his fingers. Nothing came off. Frowning, he brought the oil lamp nearer. Under the light, it did not quite look like a crystal.
He nudged the spot with the pickaxe. A small piece of stone chipped away and fell. He picked it up and inspected it carefully.
There was no white mark on the fallen piece.
His gaze snapped back to the wall.
The white speck was still there.
Jasper frowned deeper. Why hadn't it come out with the stone? He had never seen anything like this before.
Setting the lamp aside, he widened the area around it.
With a heavy thud, a larger section of rock broke free and hit the ground. Yet his eyes remained fixed on the wall.
The white mark was still there.
And now it looked slightly bigger.
"What is it?" he muttered under his breath.
He struck again, carving deeper into the spot, but it did not disappear. Instead, the white mark extended into the stone like a thin vein.
"Could something be inside?"
His heartbeat quickened at the thought of a hidden treasure—precious gems that could change everything.
With renewed energy, he dug deeper, following the faint white line. The farther he carved, the farther it stretched, gradually widening. Nearly a meter into the stone, he noticed a second faint glow branching away from the first.
Curious, he cleared more rock from the sides. Two more white streaks appeared, all extending in the same direction. As he dug further, the lines thickened and began to glow faintly—white mixed with a trace of blue.
"It's definitely a treasure gem."
Jasper's eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face as he quickened his swings.