"Put up quite a fight," he scoffed. Moments later, wolves howled somewhere in the woods.

"Looks like the wolves smell blood." With a heavy grunt, he hauled himself up, a grim smile breaking through the grit on his face, "Let’s go home."

***

The sun was almost beyond the horizon, and Bramm was busy with training. He had found a suitable iron oak and fashioned it into something akin to a sparring dummy.

His bare upper body glistened in the colours of the setting sun as sweat poured down his muscles, tracing their contours. And tattooed on his back was a rusty anchor. It covered his whole back and had a reddish hue.

This was known to those of the world as a Soul Tattoo, and each time they fought, the tattoo would light up and give them the necessary power to fight. As one progresses through the realms, not only will the tattoo light up slowly but steadily, a phantom of the tattoo would start to appear whilst they fight.

With a grunt, the man swung the large two-handed dane axe in a horizontal movement, embedding the axe into the iron oak. And it only stayed there for a second before Bramm used his legs, pushed off the wooden dummy, and pulled out his axe.

With the momentum of being released, he turned his whole body and faced them once more. It was not the best training partner, especially for a two-handed axe user, but it was better than nothing.

With one last effort, he jumped into the sky, his axe drawn over his head in full flight before crashing down into the iron oak from above, and the sound of wood breaking echoed out as the dummy split in half.

"Well this one wasn’t too bad. Held a few strikes longer," he smiled to himself as he released his weapon and laid it down next to the dummy.

Walking towards a piece of wood to the side where his shirt was piled on top of, a few sounds echoed in his mind in concession.

[Battle Log Updated]

[+50 Renown]

[...]

"Oh damn, three all at once... they must have run into a nice group of Light Red primals huh?" Bramm chuckled softly.

With a thought, he pulled up the battle log information.

[Slayer: Mestin Highmalt]

[Target: Light Red Hook-Wing Harrier ]

[Renown: +50]

[Experience: 100/800]

"Oh they met a familie of harries ey... haha" Seeing the primal, they defeated Bramm, nodding in acceptance. Hook-wing harriers were one of the more common primals in these forests, and they were possibly one of the weaker primals on the spectrum.

Although they could still tear a chunk out of someone if caught unprepared with their talons or their serrated wings.

"Well done boys, give me one more then another brother can join us." With another bout of laughter, the man continued on his way, humming and singing an old sailor’s tune as he walked.

***

Resven had finally scoured almost the entirety of the lower docks when the sun had already said its goodbyes and the velvet night sky took root and covered the heavens. With a sigh full of tiredness and relief, he found a seat in the tavern once more.

The barkeep came to him, and with a curt nod, he greeted Resven, "What can i get ya for today then?"

"Just a pint of your mead will suffice."

With a nod of acknowledgement, the man turned to fetch his drink. Unlike yesterday, there weren’t many customers in the tavern, and most of the information he could gather was only a few small pieces of their daily lives.

Work, the occasional happenstance, work, complaining about work, and the like...

A loud thud behind him made him escape his stupor, and he turned to face the barkeep. "I know a traveler when I see one and ya stick out like a sore thumb laddie. And seeing as ya keep looking for conversations to search for, i bet ya need information aye? Nothing wrong with that in a city like this one... but a word of advice young un, don’t try to listen to what youre not supposed to hear... lest i have one less customer returning for the night." With a stern glance, the man turned and left, as if the one-sided conversation had never happened. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Slightly stunned by what just happened, Resven’s gaze was glued to the back of the man before he chastised himself. ’Abyss, if the man needs to warn me, then I guess I try to be more discreet... shit!’

Feeling slightly less confident in his task, Resven could only keep staring at his mug for a second or two. That was until the barkeep passed by once more, and Resven spoke up, "Aye, I’m on the lookout for some information. Any chance of you sharing a bit about the town?"

Seeing as the barkeep took a moment’s pause, his hopes rose slightly in anticipation. Silence continued to fester before the large man turned to face Resven, "Well then, if you’re paying, i might know a few things."

He gave Resven a look, his eyes falling onto the purse strapped to Resven’s hips.

With a knowing glint in his eyes, Resven pulled out two Silver Talons from his purse and slid them across the counter.

Surprise flickered on the barkeep’s face for a moment before it vanished. Resven saw the man’s reaction and made a mental note to check the worth of anything regarding the currency and its standing amongst the people in the coming days.

"Mhmm, what would ya like to know?"

"First off, the talks the men had about a serpent beast last night... ya hear anything more?"

"Im not sure if that is anything of value, but since you’re paying. Aye, a few more men like Maeve did come over the course of a few days, telling quite the tale. Almost identical except for the fact they all saw a different beast. Whatever it was however doesn’t change the fact that three merchant ships were dragged to the bottom of the sea a few days back..."