[SP-F01] The First Few Lessons

[Miyukii 0]

The forge’s warmth greeted her long before its doorway did. The scent of coal and burning steel was heavier now, thick with sweat and soot. Her cloak was stained, her leg still throbbed, but Miyuki walked with purpose.

Three tusks. Three victories.

She entered quietly, stepping around scattered scrap metal until the clang of the hammer paused. Lyle turned, wiping his brow with the back of a blackened hand.

Miyuki said nothing at first. Instead, she approached the anvil and placed the tusks down one by one firm, deliberate. Each landed with a satisfying weight. Then, with a calm voice, she added:

“I was told you owe Dorian.”

Lyle's brow twitched. Not in shock in mild annoyance.

“Hmph. That old fool finally sent someone, did he?”

He inspected the tusks with a slow nod, grumbling under his breath. “Figures he’d wait until I’m knee-deep in orders. Well, a deal’s a deal.”

He turned toward a shelf behind the forge, rummaging through drawers until he pulled out a small pouch, the jingle of coins unmistakable. Tossing it to her, he said, “Tell him that settles it. If he says otherwise, he can come down here himself and see how fast I rework his kneecaps into paperweights.”

Miyuki caught the pouch, giving it a soft shake to confirm the weight. It wasn’t about the col it was about closure. Another thread tied up in this strange world.

“Understood.”

Lyle gave a low grunt of satisfaction and returned to his anvil without another word.

She didn’t wait for more.

Slipping the pouch into her inventory, Miyuki turned and made her way toward the lake the docks just visible past the rooftops, where Pete Larkin and the final leg of this task awaited.

One more debt. Then back to Dorian.

[Miyukii 0]

The path sloped downward from the forge, leading away from smoke and steel, into the quieter edges of Tolbana. The hammering of Lyle’s anvil faded behind her, replaced by gulls and the distant slosh of water meeting wood.

Miyuki moved with calm purpose, the aches of battle still humming beneath her skin. Each step reminded her that she’d endured. Not just survived progressed.

The eastern sun had dipped lower now, casting the town in long shadows. Buildings gave way to open space, and soon the worn cobblestone transitioned into wooden planks, weathered and warped beneath her boots.

The Tolbana docks were less structured than the rest of the town more lived-in. Salt hung heavy in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of drying fish and wet rope. Boats bobbed lazily against the piers, their sails rolled and tied, hulls creaking with the rhythm of the lake.

She spotted him almost instantly.

An old man crouched at the edge of the dock, thick fingers knotting rope with practiced ease. His beard white, wild, and full blew in the wind like a banner of salt and stubbornness. Buckets and traps were piled around him, and in the back of his boat, something metallic glinted between coils of netting.

That has to be Pete Larkin.

Miyuki approached without hesitation, stopping just a few feet away.

He didn’t look up at first but she could tell by the grin spreading under that beard that he’d already heard her coming.

“You Pete Larkin?” she asked simply.

The man let out a hearty chuckle that echoed over the water like a ship’s horn.

“Depends who’s askin’. And how deep their pockets are.”

[Miyukii 0]

Pete didn’t need to say much after their brief exchange. With a lazy hand gesture toward the back of his rickety boat, he grunted:

“There’s somethin’ shiny in there somewhere. Bring it up, and I’ll call it square.”

Miyuki stepped up to the boat, peering over the warped railing. Inside was a chaotic heap of fishing nets, rusty crab traps, and soggy crates, all tangled together like a forgotten corner of someone’s messy garage.

She frowned slightly, rolling up her sleeves.

"This is less treasure hunting and more swamp diving..."

Her hands gripped the edge of the boat as she climbed aboard, the wood creaking beneath her weight. She began carefully pulling up a collapsed fish trap, only to find it stuffed with slimy weeds and empty shells. Beneath it, a tangled mess of rope and what might have once been a tackle box clung together like seaweed spaghetti.

She winced at the stench and dropped it aside.

"Nothing. Keep going."

Sweat beginning to bead at her temple, Miyuki shoved aside another pile of nets. This time, she found the glint of metal — a locked container!

Her heart leapt but faded just as quickly.

“A toolbox.”
She popped it open anyway. A few rusty nails. Broken pliers. A dead fish.

She exhaled sharply through her nose and wiped her hands on her leggings, the salt and rust clinging to her skin.

Pete chuckled from behind her, watching with amusement.

“Treasure hunting ain’t always glamorous, girl.”

She ignored him.

Her fingers brushed something heavier beneath the largest trap a warped net clung to it stubbornly, but she felt the edges.

Solid. Iron. And sealed.

Miyuki gritted her teeth and pulled harder, dragging it up inch by inch until it burst from the nets with a clatter a battered but unmistakable treasure chest, dull brass with reinforced iron corners and a cracked crest across the front.

She let it rest on the deck, panting softly, hair clinging to her cheeks from sweat and lake mist.

“There you are…”

Pete gave a low whistle behind her.

“Heh. Didn’t think you’d actually find the old girl. Most people give up before the third try.”

Miyuki stared at the chest for a long moment, then gave a short nod, her fingers resting lightly on the lid.

The hardest part was over.

Now all that was left was to open it.

 

Spoiler

ID# 248645 | LD 8 + 3 (Fondue) = 11 (fail)
ID# 248646 | LD 1 + 3 (Fondue) = 4 (Fail)
ID# 248647 | LD 18 + 3 (Fondue) = 21 (Success)

 

Edited 9 hours ago by Miyukii

[Miyukii 0]

Miyuki knelt beside the chest, letting her hand hover above the aged lid for a moment. There was no trap, no magic seal just a simple lock mechanism.

Her fingers worked quickly, clicking through the latch until it gave with a soft metallic snap. The hinges groaned in protest as she lifted the top.

Inside, cushioned by a worn velvet lining, were glints of polished steel and vials of swirling liquid. Her breath caught for a second not in disbelief, but in silent gratitude.

A curved blade, far more refined than the loaner she currently carried, rested atop a folded set of leather armor, dark and sleek. Tucked beside them were two glass vials, one faintly glowing with soft blue light, the other golden and pulsing gently.

And nestled in the corner, a small bag simple, nondescript, yet heavy with the distinct jingle of coin.

She picked it up first and gave it a careful shake.

250 Col.
Enough for supplies. Repairs. A start.

The curved sword came next. She turned it over in her hands balanced, sharp, precise. A weapon made not for decoration, but for someone who knew how to use it.

“I’ll earn this one. Every swing.”

The armor she folded gently, sliding it into her inventory alongside the potions. Her expression remained composed, but in her chest, something flickered — satisfaction. Not victory, but progress.

Pete, still lounging near the dock’s edge, gave a low chuckle.

“Looks like you got lucky. Don’t spend it all in one shop.”

Miyuki stood, her gaze steady but thankful.

“I’ll return this to Dorian now. He’ll be relieved.”

Pete raised an eyebrow and tossed her a folded, slightly damp envelope.

“Give him this. Tell him his memory’s worse than mine and that’s saying something.”

She took the letter with a bow, turning toward Tolbana once more.

Just one more step left.

 

Spoiler

ID# 248648 | LD 17 |  1 * 250 Col = 250 Col , 12 Materials,  <<Unidentified>> Perfect Weapon, <<Unidentified>> Perfect Armor, <<Unidentified>> Perfect Consumables (2)

[17-19]

[Floor] * 250

12

Perfect Weapon (1), Perfect Armor/Shield (1), Perfect Consumables (2)

 

Edited 9 hours ago by Miyukii

[Miyukii 0]

The walk back to Tolbana’s square felt different now.

Not easier, necessarily her leg still throbbed faintly from the boarlet’s tusk, and the grime of the day clung to her sleeves and boots. But there was a quiet rhythm in her step. Confidence, maybe. Familiarity. The unknown edges of this world had softened ever so slightly.

She spotted Dorian near the fountain again, standing tall in his polished coat, monocle gleaming in the low light. He noticed her instantly his eyes lighting up with recognition, then nervous hope.

“Ah! You’ve returned. And with good news, I hope?”

Miyuki offered a nod and reached into her inventory, pulling out the slightly damp envelope Pete had handed her. She held it out, and the mayor took it gingerly between two fingers, frowning at the faint fish smell.

“Yes, well. Pete was never known for subtlety.”
He cracked the wax seal and scanned the letter quickly. His mustache twitched equal parts relief and mild embarrassment.

“Excellent, excellent. That settles the matter. You’ve done quite well, young lady. More than I expected, truth be told.”

He gave a practiced, courteous bow.

“As promised, you’ll find compensation has already been arranged. I daresay, the town could use more players like you capable and quiet.”

Miyuki didn’t reply at first. She simply gave a polite nod and turned slightly, her eyes scanning the square again.

Same cobblestones. Same vendors. Same air of false safety. But she wasn’t the same girl who had hesitated at Zackariah’s door.

“Thanks,” she said softly.
Then, after a pause:
“For the lesson.”

She turned without fanfare, letting the town fall behind her.

[Miyukii 0]

Miyukii: 

Word Count: 6774 Word
EXP: 6774/5*1 = 1355 (Word Count) + 800 (Quest) = 2155 EXP

Col: 400 (Page) + 250 (Treasure Chest) + 2000 (Quest) = 2650 Col

Perfect Weapon (1) | ID#248648

Perfect Armor/Shield (1) | ID#248648

Perfect Consumables (2) | ID#248648

Edited 8 hours ago by Miyukii