The overcast clouds that had loomed over Oakhaven for the past few days finally opened up, allowing thin streaks of pale light to pierce through the gaps. The morning air was crisp and fragrant with the scent of pine needle’s sap and wet earth, which was a fitting reminder that the wilderness of Aethelgard was only a few miles away, even if Mark had lived in civilization for the past half a year.
Having finished his meal of thick oats and black coffee, and morning exercises on the exercise mats, Mark prepared himself for another day of work. He pulled on his reinforced tunic of iron-threaded linen and fastened the Oakhaven crest badge on his chest. His belt was lined with his short sword, and the iron-tipped spear secured at his back harness. Yet, even as his Level 5 stats glowed proudly on his combat overlay, his mind was already on the next mission.
As the young Oakhaven member exited the village through the wooden gates, Mark’s eyes immediately fell on the dark green vehicle waiting idling on the road. It was a bizarre sight to see something so foreign in a land of magic and beasts, yet the mechanical marvel had the appearance of a military vehicle with dark blue mana smoke curling from its tailpipe. The runed iron rims on its frame had reinforced the old vehicle, and inside the driver’s seat sat Alden, leaning comfortably back against the seat with a pair of staffs crossed between his knees. The older man wore a pair of old glasses that glinted as he peered at Mark.
“Well, well. It took you long enough, Vance,” the veteran chuckled. He gestured lightly with a hand at the old jeep. “You see, I’ve learned how to drive this thing and I’ve promised to show you the territory on the other side. Though I must warn you that it will take a while.” He gestured at the wheel. “This is yours, for now, but I will be right here next to you to show you the way. The road ahead, and the destination, are yours to find by yourself, understand?”
“Do you mean to say, system provides, but we drive through the mud, sir?” Mark asked, eyes narrowing as he looked ahead at the darkened woods beyond the tree line. “The east border is hardly the training grounds.”
The jeep engine rumbled as it pulled forward, and before long, the vehicle was bouncing over the exposed tree roots and rocky terrain, sending thick clouds of dust rolling in its wake. As the forest grew denser, Mark’s eyes locked onto the thin combat overlay which began scanning the terrain itself. Subtle green lines of light traced the edges of the ridges ahead, marking ideal vantage points and ambush locations as red zones flickered around the unmapped shrubs and thickets.
After fifteen minutes of driving, the jeep arrived at a large wooden gate, where a group of giant werewolves stood, probably as guards. The huge gate stretched before them, made of thick ironwood logs, and bridging across a gap between the rocky cliffs. Three lycanthropes stood waiting, each as tall as seven feet, their coarse slate-gray fur covering their frames, with remnants of stolen armor covering their torsos. Their jaws dripped saliva, revealing yellowed fangs that would tear through an iron shield with ease.
Mark and Alden got off their jeep, approaching the giant wolves and asking politely to allow them to enter since Vance had challenged the leader of the wolves, Punk. They both received a loud and unpleasant laughter from the guard, which reverberated through the cliffs like dry wood.
“A human worm dares to challenge our Alpha?” The leader growled. He slammed the butt of his halberd on the ground. “No one is able to defeat our boss and if you do, you will be locked in the deepest pits of our territory for the rest of your life.”
However, Mark did not budge at the word of the huge werewolf. His combat overlay showed Punk’s stance, a slight imbalance on his left hip, and the young warrior suddenly asked, “What if I beat your master?”
The guards said that their master is a talking giant and he promised to give a lot of money to the winner, free all slaves, and allow all people to cross his territory without taxes or bloodshed. Mark and Alden paused briefly, weighing the offer, then entering Punk’s territory with a few silent words exchanged. In other words, the deal was simple and fair according to the Universal System.
Inside the territory of the werewolves, Mark could see a desolate valley surrounded by craggy rocks and trees. Numerous lycanthropes took their positions on the ridges, howling and beating their weapons against their shields, marking the start of the battle. The young Oakhaven warrior saw a wrestling arena, where a giant werewolf was waiting impatiently. The arena was something of a mockery of the concept, a roughly rectangular patch of dirt enclosed by thick blood-soaked leather cords, attached to four large wooden stakes at the corners. Punk was waiting inside, barking loudly for someone to come and challenge him.
“I will face and beat you!” Mark shouted, his voice cutting through the din of the pack’s frenzy. He stepped into the arena and shook hands with Punk. The giant’s grip was like a vice, squeezing harder and harder in an attempt to break Mark’s bones, but the young man’s Strength stat activated, his muscles tightening to resist the pressure. Punk warned him that he must remember the consequences of losing, but Mark reminded him of his promise. Then the referee raised a round iron shield, and the battle began.
At first, Punk grabbed him by the throat and slammed him onto the arena floor with his shoulder, lifting Mark off the ground and knocking the air from his lungs. The referee hurried over as the crowd roared, signaling for the match to continue. “1, 2, 3, 4…” he began, counting slowly as Punk began choking him tighter. Mark’s eyes had begun to water from the strain when suddenly, he pushed himself upward. He had managed to ignore the pain thanks to his Hard to Break passive ability and his cold soldier mindset.
Punk laughed, stepping forward to finish him off, but Mark threw a hard right hook at his gut, and Punk blocked it effortlessly with his elbow and sent a brutal counter-swipe at his side. Mark’s combat mastery began to guide his instincts. His Iron Mirror Counter passive ability activated, allowing him to evade Punk’s attack and he slapped the giant’s arm down and into the dirt. Using his momentum, Mark twisted his body and sent a hard left into Punk’s ribs, followed by a Crushing Stone Elbow to his chest. Punk stumbled backward, surprise flashing across his face as his health bar lowered. “What strength!” Punk exclaimed, his eyes narrowing as he circled Mark. “This is not easy for you, human.”
Suddenly, Punk charged again, bringing his entire body to bear behind a huge hammer fist, but Mark did not step back to receive the blow. He activated his The Flowing Willow Redirection skill to redirect the force away by catching Punk’s side with his palms as the giant’s arm swung past him. Using the same momentum, he shifted his weight and rotated his shoulders to turn the force behind Punk’s fist into a sweeping motion. Punk lost his balance, his body lurching sideways, and that was all the opening Mark needed. He darted forward, sliding low to roll behind Punk. He caught the giant’s waist with his arms and pulled himself up behind the big lycanthrope and bent his spine backward to drive his shoulder into Punk’s ribs. With all the strength he could muster, Mark planted his feet into the dirt and launched himself backward to send Punk’s whole body flying.
Mark used the piledriver to lift the four hundred-pound giant off the ground, slamming the werewolf’s head and shoulder into the arena floor. This sent cracks forming in the dirt surface as Punk’s eyes glazed over, his breath coming in short gasps. To finish off the lycanthrope, Mark rolled over his shoulder and planted his knee against Punk’s neck. He then used his favorite move, Gogoplata. Mark pulled the giant’s head backward to further his neck to increase leverage over Punk. He pushed his shin into the beast’s trachea to cut off his oxygen supply and blood flow from his lungs. Punk began struggling desperately, but Mark knew that this was an unbreakable grip, and he was completely defeated and unconscious, and he tapped on the back of his head with his knee to signal his victory.
A flash of silver light appeared in the middle of Mark’s field of vision, which meant he had won with a great success. The victory screen displayed Mark’s reward: 40000 silver coins were presented to him, indicating his richness.
[QUEST COMPLETED: THE FRONTIER DUEL]
[Reward: 40000 Silver Coins awarded!]
[Experience Gained: 600. Experience: 630/800 to Level 6.]
The wealth appeared in Mark’s digital wallet, and Punk kept his word. With a gruff nod, he signaled to his guards, who unlatched the great gates, setting the slaves free. All the captives and prisoners of war were released, and the valley was officially opened to trade, free of all taxes for Oakhaven citizens.
With his mission complete, Mark and Alden returned to the hotel to have lunch. Silas, the hotel owner, had prepared a feast in honor of the man who had single-handedly brought the eastern border under control. He laid out a platter of honey-glazed ribs, roasted root vegetables, and crusty bread from the brick oven on the large dining hall table. Mark devoured the food greedily, the rich flavors washing away the last remnants of the battle, while Alden raised a wooden mug of cider in a silent toast.
As the last of the bread disappeared, Mark felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him, followed by a dull ache in his muscles. The young warrior had earned a substantial amount of experience and had reached level 6, but right now, he was exhausted and all he wanted was to take a nap. He returned to his room and took off his weapon harness, laying the gear on the bed before collapsing on the feather mattress. As the gentle sounds of Oakhaven filtered through the wooden walls, and he closed his eyes, the soldier drifted off to sleep, dreaming of his next quest.
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