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Chapter 3 - Path [1]

As the sun dipped below the horizon, a shroud of darkness crept over the vast expanse of the Abyssal Forest. The thick canopy above rustled with the stirring of nocturnal predators, and the chilling howls of unseen beasts echoed through the woods like ghostly warnings. Amidst this untamed wilderness, Leo Kaelen decided it was best to halt his journey and make camp. Though trained to wield the sword with grace and precision, even he knew the forest belonged to the creatures after nightfall.

He set up a modest camp, using what dry twigs he could find and lighting a small fire to ward off the encroaching cold. The flames cast flickering shadows across his sharp features and dark traveling cloak. Despite the eerie sounds that surrounded him, Leo showed no fear. He gripped the hilt of his sword, resting beside him, and eventually allowed his body to drift into light slumber. His training from the capital's knight academy had taught him how to sleep lightly—never fully surrendering to rest when danger might be near.

By dawn, the embers had died, and Leo was already on his feet, packing his few belongings with practiced efficiency. His journey was far from over. Yet just as he stepped past a moss-covered tree trunk, a sudden flash of light cracked beside his ear, followed by a deafening boom.

"Stop! What is a human doing near our forest? Speak—before we blow your head off."

Leo froze, instinctively raising both hands. His crimson eyes darted to the shadows above, where several small figures emerged from the foliage, perched on thick tree branches with strange, rune-etched weapons aimed at him. Goblins. Their weapons pulsed with mana, each one loaded with spherical, glowing bullets—lethal arcane projectiles unique to their kind.

"I-I'm not your enemy," Leo said quickly, keeping his voice calm and respectful. "I came here seeking answers, not bloodshed."

He kept his head bowed, careful not to meet their gaze. Without his blindfold, the full force of his crimson irises might harm them—or so he feared. His eyes had long been a curse: a mystery even to the mages of the academy.

One of the goblins leapt down from the branches, weapon still drawn, and approached cautiously. As the goblin neared, its nose twitched. It sniffed the air and then recoiled with a sharp gasp.

"Chief! Come down here! You need to see this for yourself!"

From the trees, two more goblins dropped, including one clad in bone-engraved armor and a cloak made of stitched hides. The chief's eyes narrowed the moment he approached. He inhaled—and froze.

"This scent… it can't be…"

He stared at Leo, voice suddenly lower, more reverent.

"Human. Look at me."

Leo hesitated but obeyed. Slowly, he lifted his head, revealing his bare face and, most notably, the deep crimson glow of his eyes.

The goblins stood in stunned silence. Not fear—something more profound. Awe.

Without another word, they blindfolded him and escorted him through winding trails deeper into the forest. They traveled silently, save for the rustle of leaves beneath their feet, until they reached a hidden village nestled between towering stone pillars and dense brush. The air smelled of herbs, ash, and old magic.

Leo was led into a humble but ornate hut filled with ancient scrolls, wooden totems, and a pungent aroma of incense. A wrinkled goblin shaman, leaning on an aged staff, turned to greet them. But the moment Leo's blindfold was removed, the staff clattered to the floor.

"F-forgive us, your Holiness!" the shaman cried, immediately dropping to her knees. "My kin did not recognize the great Dragon."

Leo's brow furrowed. Dragon?

"I don't understand," he murmured, troubled. "I didn't do anything to you, and my eyes… they didn't hurt you. I thought they harmed all who looked into them."

The shaman looked up, eyes shining with reverence. "Perhaps only the lesser races are harmed by your gaze, but not we, your kin. You possess the blood of monsters… and more. I see it clearly now. The dragons have long since faded, but their blood flows in you."

"I ask that you rise, Great Shaman," Leo said earnestly. "Please. I didn't come here as a god, but as a wanderer seeking truth. I need your help."

The shaman stood slowly, her body frail but her eyes sharp.

Leo told her everything—about the academy, the curse of his eyes, the hidden lineage he had begun to uncover. He explained the strange stirrings within him, the instinctual pull toward places like this, the power that felt both ancient and wild within his veins.

The shaman listened intently, then finally spoke. "You are the first being I have heard of who carries the blood of all monsterkind. This… changes much."

"I seek growth," Leo said, lowering his head again. "Please guide me."

After a long pause, the shaman nodded. "Then go to the monster capital, and join the academy there. Learn from us. You must understand who and what you are. But… admissions do not open for another three moons. Until then, stay in our village. Read our tomes. Train with us."

Leo's voice was steady. "I will do as you ask. But one thing still troubles me… Why do you call me 'your Holiness'? I'm no dragon. I am just a human—one with mixed blood."

The shaman's smile was gentle. "You are no mere human, young one. Your eyes shine with the fire of the true dragons, unlike the dull gold of the lizardfolk who falsely claim descent. Whether you believe it or not, the blood of kings flows within you."

Leo stood in stunned silence.

"I'll arrange quarters for him," said Chief Grokk, who had remained silent until now. "I suppose I'll be having a new disciple."

"You will, indeed," said the shaman with a faint smile. "Take his Holiness to your home. Let him rest. He has earned it."

Grokk's house was small, its walls made from polished wood and its roof layered with thick leaves. There were only two rooms—one for him and his wife, the other empty. Leo settled into the spare room, grateful.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Chief Grokk," Leo said with a respectful nod. "I will repay you for your kindness."

Grokk chuckled. "No need. You're my disciple now. I may look old, but I was once the sharpest shot in my academy. Oh—and what's your name, disciple?"

Leo stood tall, placing his right fist over his chest.

"My name is Leo Kaelen. I place myself in your care, Master Grokk."

"A fine name. Come now—it's still midday. Let's begin your training. The first lesson of a goblin marksman awaits."

Leo's heart stirred with anticipation as he followed Grokk into the forest once more. They stopped at a vantage point overlooking a distant glade.

"Do you see what I see, Leo?"

Leo narrowed his eyes but saw only trees, bushes, and nothing more. "I… I see nothing, Master."

Grokk laughed. "Then I shall teach you to see as we do. The art of heightened sight. Guide your mana to your eyes—slowly—and shape it like the layered lenses of a stargazer. It will hurt, but endure it."

Leo nodded, then closed his eyes and drew in a breath. He guided his internal mana along his nerves, channeling it toward the pupils. The pain was sharp—like fire threading through glass—but he gritted his teeth and pressed on. He imagined lenses—thin, translucent layers, shaped by will alone.

And then he opened his eyes.

The world sharpened. What was once a blur was now vivid. He could see through the thicket, past the tall trees—and spotted a great beast slumbering in the glade beyond.

He had done it. His first monster skill—mastered.

Grokk smiled with pride. "Welcome, Leo Kaelen. You've taken your first step into our world."

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