The people of the village hurried about, their steps filled with determination. Quiet, intense discussions replaced the usual friendly chatter. The Frantian soldiers, once a distant concern, now posed a clear threat.
As they ventured deeper into the village, familiar faces crossed their path, each wearing a resolute expression. Even the little ones, oblivious to the gravity of the matter, could feel the pressing need and were lending a hand in their own ways.
Erik's gaze lifted to the majestic tree houses, reaching toward the sky. Under their calm grace, a hidden tension simmered.
Since he came here, Erik has always found the village comfortable. There was no fear, no anxiety. But this day, his Birthday, was not a joyous occasion. Instead, it became a fierce struggle to stay alive, and the fight was nowhere near its end.
Samuel turned towards Erik and the others, his weathered face etched with concern. "Erik," he said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of fatigue. "I need to speak with Amos about the situation."
The young man nodded, preparing to accompany him. "I'll go with you," he said, his voice firm.
But Samuel raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks. "There is no need," he said, shaking his head. "You've done enough today. It's your Birthday, after all. You need to rest."
Erik's eyes met Samuel's, ready to voice his objection, but the older man's stare made him think twice. Reluctantly, he nodded, acknowledging Samuel's wish.
The day had been full of challenges, and the days ahead held even greater trials. As he came to understand, rest was precisely what he required.
"Very well..."
He let out a weary breath, his eyes fixed on Samuel's retreating figure, making his way toward Amos's abode. A weighty feeling descended upon him, a blend of weariness and unease for what lay ahead.
But for now, he would rest. He knew that soon enough, he would be needed again.
Erik shifted his gaze to Ethan, his eyes mirroring his exhaustion. "Ethan," he started, his voice heavy with exhaustion, a reminder of the harrowing experience they had just endured.
"I think I will head home, eat something, and rest. This day has been...eventful, to say the least."
Ethan clapped Erik on the shoulder, his face lighting up with a slight grin. "Yeah, don't worry. Happy Birthday again, Erik."
With a tired smile, Erik nodded. "Thanks, Ethan," he said before walking away, his steps heavy with exhaustion but resolute.
"Take care!" Ethan called after him, waving him off. And so the two went their separate ways.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the land, it marked the end of a tough day. Yet, it also signaled the start of a fresh beginning—a battle that would involve the whole village.
Erik reached his home, a charming wooden cottage perched atop a towering tree. The strong tree trunk bore a mesmerizing pattern of twisting knots and deep grooves. He carefully set down his sword, its metallic sound resonating gently in the quiet that had enveloped his dwelling.
The place was a stunning mix of practicality and old-world allure. Made of weathered, gleaming wood, it blended seamlessly with the forest like a towering tree that had grown above the ground.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, its glow seeped through the windows, painting the wooden floor with enchanting patterns of light and shadow.
A sturdy stone stove stood tall and strong off the side, like a loyal guardian. It was a necessary friend, always there to keep him cozy and cook his meals.
The room was sparsely furnished, with only a few pieces of rugged furniture. There was a rough table, a couple of wooden chairs, and a bed covered in fur to keep warm during the winter.
Though unassuming, the abode possessed all that was necessary. Erik's surroundings exuded a tribal vibe, reflecting the village's tree-dwelling culture.
The room's emptiness gave it a calm and straightforward vibe, like a peaceful sanctuary hidden from the chaos beyond its walls. In its humble beauty, it was a haven for Erik to unwind and recharge.
Erik, now settled in the solitude of his home, found himself wrapped in a blanket of thought. His mind kept circling back to the humanoid thaid.
Since he didn't have enough mana to fight against it, he had to leave the lab, and this meant that he hadn't been close enough to absorb its mana when it died, a detail that gnawed at him now.
The implications were clear - he'd missed out on valuable experience points, and by how strong the beast was, it was clear the experience would be massive.
Frustration washed over him, evident in his expression, as he dwelled on the opportunity he had let slip away. Every ounce of experience held immense importance; it could determine whether one lived or perished. As he gained more experience, his strength grew, increasing his odds of survival.
However, he wasn't one to dwell on the negative for long. His mind wandered to the swarm of Acidspitter Arthropods that Samuel and his companions had killed. Each death gave him just one experience points since the Acidspitter Arthropods alone were weak, but it was still something.
Erik heaved a weary sigh, his fingers combing through his tousled hair. It was a strange world they lived in, where one's life revolved around hunting, killing, and training.
It was draining, dangerous, and sometimes it seemed as if the whole world was against him. But it was the reality of his situation. All he could do was continue to get stronger, continue to survive.
Erik's focus shifted towards more mundane matters: food and rest. He walked over to his small pantry, the wooden boards creaking under his weight.
The pantry, though modest, held a variety of vegetables from his recent foraging trip in the forest. They were all in different stages of freshness, and he deftly picked out those on the brink of spoiling.
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