A Wanderer's Lies

Chapter 22: Don Freecs [2]

It has probably been over 300 years since then.

I was born into a small town under a lush and green mountain and surrounded by a forest.

Waterdrought. That was the name of my town. It was named that because no matter how much it rained, you'd never be able to tell.

The first time I'd experienced this was when a powerful storm had befallen Waterdrought, yet in a few hours, there were no signs of it.

No puddles, no wet mud, hell even the dark clouds had disappeared, leaving nothing but clear blue sky.

At a young age, I was quickly given the name "The Disappearing Child".

This was because I had a knack for sneaking out to go exploring in the forests and mountains.

Despite my parents telling me the dangers of the breasts that would frequently roam, they could stop me from exploring.

To them, I was a disobedient child that was too curious for his own good.

An insatiable hunger for adventure.

And eventually, at the age of 12, I encountered my first Beast, The Great Stamp.

A 6 foot tall pig with exceptional speed and strength, not to mention its large and tough snout.

At the time, I had barely escaped it, but at the time, where I should have been happy to have escaped with my life, I was angered.

What was the point of adventuring if I had to constantly fear miscellaneous beasts lurking in the shadows.

No, that wasn't the type of adventurer I wanted to be.

Therefore, I went back and devised a plan.

It wasn't hard for me to notice the pig's weak and soft forehead which was protected by its large snout.

With this information, I took my time laying out a trap, and in a few hours, I returned to my town with the snout of The Great Stamp, a trophy of my achievement.

With the townspeople all gazing at me, I still remember the mix of emotions showing on their faces.

Fear, envy, doubt, but most prominently, praise.

I was awarded with honour by the mayor and my parents were given land, or maybe it was livestock.

I don't remember.

However, I do remember the same night where the townspeople all gathered around a bonfire, feasting on the Great Stamp I'd slain.

At that moment, I still clearly remember the feeling.

The wash of euphoria as I watched my people laugh and celebrate for something I had done.

The kind eyes of my mother as she caressed my cheek, the look of satisfaction my father gave me, as one could tell he was no longer speaking to a boy, but a man.

It was exhilarating.

I could have died in that moment peacefully, knowing I had done something that brought my parents and people so much joy.

It was at that moment I decided what I wanted to do in life.

A few years had passed and I had finally become an adult at 16.

On the very same day, I kissed my parents goodbye and waved off my townspeople as I left Waterdrought to travel the world.

Icy tundra, erupting volcano, pouring rainforest. Anywhere that sounded remotely interesting would instantly be put on my map.

Additionally, as I passed village's and helped with their troubles, whether it'd be a wild beast ruining their crops or a Thief stealing their goods, nothing proved difficult for me.

Eventually, I had made a name for myself as a Guardian Angel or Wandering Knight.

However, upon arriving in a small village in the middle of the forest as a heavy storm had suddenly erupted, I was forced to take shelter.

The village folk, who wore peculiar drapes and had a unique sense of fashion, as well as their interesting architecture, seemed uncomfortable and on edge.

Upon asking around, I was able to find out the village chief's 13 year old son had gone missing.

The chief, as well as a few trusted warriors, had gone out to search for him.

But as the villager recounted the story, as well as a small summary of the son's adventurous and curious nature, I couldn't help but smile as I remembered myself at that age.

So much so that I blurted out what I was thinking.

"He's probably waiting out the storm." I remembered saying, as the villager raised an eyebrow at my words.

After hearing the story, I decided to venture out in the storm to look for the boy, soon finding him hugging his knees in a deep cave with a sprained ankle.

He was a small frail boy with blond hair and blue eyes that seemingly glowed in the dark. Additionally, it was hard to miss the small mole under his right eye that only added to his childlike charm.

I quickly started a fire and gave the boy something to eat, and it wasn't long until we happily laughed as our hands tightly gripped the warm cup filled with tea.

I was able to find out the boy's name was William and he'd hurt his foot whilst scurrying to seek shelter from the incoming storm.

As the storm passed, I returned with the boy.

The village chief, a short and burly old man with a long white beard, gave me his deepest thanks.

In return for saving his child, the old man taught me an invaluable skill.

He taught me Nen.

During my training, I also was quick to find out the name the people went by.

The Kurta Clan.

That's what they called themselves.

I'll never forget my time there.

Not only did they teach me Nen, but they also told me stories of a forgotten land that no one dared to trespass onto.

The Dark Continent.

They told me their ancestors, as well as the ancestors of everyone currently living in the known world had fled from what he described to be hell.

Unlike in today's world, where Nen was a secretive topic, in the time their ancestors lived in the Dark Continent, Nen was known to all.

From a housewife who used Nen to quickly finish her chores, to a warrior who fought in battles and blew apart boulders with a swing of his fist, Nen was a necessity, and for those who could use it, they were seen as crippled.

However, upon a war suddenly erupting amongst the most powerful kingdoms at the time, countless people died.

However, due to Nen and the vast emotions flowing through them, their death gave birth to the monsters that currently inhabited the Dark Continent.

Or in other words, Post Mortem Nen.

It was because of this sudden overpowering new factor that the few individuals that were left had fled to the known world, while some were left behind, and upon arriving, Nen was ruled a forbidden art, soon becoming forgotten.

As the chief recounted this story, it was like a flame inside me made contact with gasoline.

This same giddy feeling was the same kind I'd get when looking out of the window and seeing the sun hide behind the clouds, few beasts peek through the trees of the large forest and a cool shade cast over the town as the mountain covered the sun.

The thrill to see more.

But, I knew that time would come.

Despite me seeing the chief deliberately hid parts of the story from me, I decided not to pry.

And so I trained for a whole year before leaving the Kurtas and resuming my travels.

Because I now knew Nen and I didn't need to waste time setting traps for beasts and hiding out for the weather to become more favourable, my travels saw a significant increase in speed.

Beasts were too weak to pose a threat, and I could conformably sleep through any weather without it affecting me.

And because of this, after a decade, I had completely travelled the world, returning to Waterdrought with wife I'd met along the way.

One would think I'd rest for the rest of my days after becoming the greatest adventurer known to man, however, there was one problem I had with the current state of the world.

It was too messy.

Beasts posed too much of a threat and regular law enforcement were not equipped to handle them.

Additionally, it was typical to see things like weather, some criminals with Nen and peculiar occurrences completely wipe out some villages and small towns.

Because of this, I thought of something.

I alone couldn't fix all the problems of the world, however, countless individuals who were similarly trained might stand a chance.

Therefore, I created the Hunters Association.

And because of the name I'd made for myself, it was quick to expand. So much so I was soon approached by the V5 nations.

Apparently, I had become a king of sorts in the world, similar to them. Of course, with the power that came with the Hunter's Association, it wasn't a stretch to say I had the power of a whole kingdom behind me.

It was because of this they decided to tell me the same story the Kurta Chief had told me long ago.

They didn't say it, but it was clear they were afraid of history repeating itself.

After they'd left, I fell into deep contemplation for the next few days.

A whole new world I hadn't discovered yet.

But the better part of my mind disregarded the thought. My adventurer days had long passed. Additionally, I now had a wife, a newborn son, the hunter's association and my town to take care of.

Yet, despite this logic, the flame in my soul spoke to me.

The same flame I'd followed my whole life and got me to where I was today.

Upon first hearing about the Dark Continent from the Chief, I knew I would someday travel there, in fact, i was looking forward to it.

And I still was.

What kind of adventurer would I be if I didn't complete my journey?

Therefore, with my wife who seemed slightly reluctant, young William who was all grown up and a few other trusted individuals, I set out to the Dark Continent.

Once again, I was following my dreams.

But looking back now, it was my greatest regret.

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Hey, if you're enjoying I'd appreciate the Powerstones. They help a ton.

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