Chronicles Of The Crafting Hero [REMASTERED]

The stars were beginning to fade, their light swallowed by the spreading gray of pre-dawn. The sun had not yet breached the horizon, and a dense, chilling fog had rolled in, blanketing the world in white.

Inside, James lay on a small wooden bed. The mattress was old, its internal springs long since collapsed into useless metal coils. It was an unforgiving surface, but months of sleeping on the lumps had taught his body to find rest regardless.

The thin, small blanket offered little resistance against the morning cold. The chill seeped through the weave, biting at his skin until he stirred. His right eye opened, the image of the wooden ceiling spinning in a blurry haze before snapping into focus. He pushed himself up, the joints in his body popping as he stretched his right arm toward the ceiling.

He let out a sigh, then paused. A faint tingling sensation stirred in his left eye. The eyelid remained shut, sealed by the jagged scar that ran from his eyebrow down past his lower lid.

*It's happening again.*

He brushed the scarred skin lightly with the fingers of his left hand, then looked down at the space beside him on the bed. An eye patch lay next to the brown leather chest armor he had been using as a pillow.

He picked up the black eye patch and tied it securely over his left eye, concealing the scar. He brushed his messy black hair back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet met the cool, rough floor as he stood. He fished his dark leather boots out from under the bed frame and slid his feet inside.

*It's been years since it happened. Why is this happening? I don't think I hurt myself during the hunt... not in that place, at least.*

He bent down and retrieved his dark leather boots from beneath the bed frame. He slid his feet inside and tied the laces tight. Reaching under the bed again, he fished out his leather belt. A dagger hung from one side, and his sword sat sheathed on the other.

He drew the blade. The steel glistened in the faint morning light spilling through the window. James narrowed his eye, tracing the network of scratches etched into the surface. The metal felt worn, tired from overuse.

"This needs to be repaired... or maybe I just need to buy a whole new sword."

He spoke the words aloud, but they returned to his ears as thick, muffled sounds. He stuck a finger into his ear and rubbed aggressively.

*I still can't hear clearly. That battle really took a toll on me. Who would have guessed I'd run into that monster from the start?*

He shoved the sword back into its sheath and stood up. The springs of the mattress barely made a sound as the weight lifted. He straightened the thin blanket and sheets, then reached for his steel arm guards lying on the floor. He strapped them on; the leather backing pressed against his skin, offering a comfortable buffer between the metal and his wrists.

*I have to go out. I'll try to take on a simple quest before I get back.*

He walked to the door and stepped into the hallway. The passage was dim, lit only by a single torch mounted halfway down the right wall. He passed a few wooden doors before reaching the lobby.

To his right, a man sat behind a counter with his chin resting on his palm, lost in thought. He wore a crisp white shirt and black pants, his brown hair neatly combed.

As James passed, the man snapped out of his daze. "Oh, good morning."

"Good morning," James replied.

"You're heading out?" the man asked. "Will you be coming back?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Ah, right. Almost forgot," the man said. "You were pretty bad last night . How are you feeling? Is your hearing okay now?"

"It's getting better," James said, rubbing his ear.

"Yeah," the man nodded. "You can actually hear what I'm saying now, unlike yesterday."

“Yeah, anyway, I’m heading out,” James said. He pushed the door open, allowing the flat, grey light of the morning to spill into the room.

“Alright, have a safe hunt,” the man inside replied.

James stepped out and closed the door behind him. The morning air hit him instantly, a sharp, cold bite against his skin. To his surprise, the base was submerged in a thick, white haze. The usual crowd of hunters was missing, leaving the area quiet.

“It’s foggy... again,” he muttered, his breath misting in the damp air.

He turned to his right and began to walk. *There aren't a lot of hunters around. With the fog this thick, I’m not surprised. It would be dangerous to go into the monster zone with visibility like this.*

As he moved forward, the outline of the tent began to materialize through the white. It was a massive structure of brown canvas with openings on two sides. The closer he got to it, the thinner the fog became, until the air around the entrance was clear. Through the open flaps, he could already see a few hunters sitting on the benches inside.

He stepped into the shelter. A few groups were murmuring to one another on the benches, and a hunter stood at the counter, speaking with the guild clerk to accept a quest.

Beside that hunter stood another man. As soon as James saw him, a sharp flicker of annoyance tightened his chest. He forced the feeling down and walked straight toward the counter.

The clerk, Serina, stood behind the wood. She wore a crisp white shirt with a red ribbon tie, her long red hair framing her face. Her green eyes held a practiced, casual warmth as she smiled at the current hunters.

But the moment her gaze shifted to James, the expression shattered. Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of undisguised annoyance, bordering on disappointment.

“Good morning, Serina,” James said.

Serina crossed her arms over her chest. “Please don’t tell me you’re about to take on a quest right now.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to,” James replied, his voice low.

Serina’s arms dropped to her sides. “No, you’re not!”

The sudden rise in her volume caused the ambient chatter in the tent to die down instantly. Several hunters turned their heads, eyeing the counter. Serina froze, her cheeks flushing slightly. She leaned over the wood, dropping her voice to a harsh whisper.

“You’re obviously still not in the right condition,” she hissed. “You were in bad shape yesterday. You could barely walk. Can you even hear me?”

“Yeah, I can hear you,” James said, keeping his posture rigid to hide the stiffness in his back. “But don’t worry about that. I’m fine now. I’m just taking a simple quest. That’s all.”

Serina narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think I’m stupid. Even if you’re taking a simple quest, it doesn't matter. What if you accidentally wander into a monster territory? There is fog all around us.”

“Come on. You and I both know even if there’s fog, I wouldn’t do something like that,” James said, leaning closer. “I’ve memorized every inch of that monster zone. I could walk that entire place with my eyes closed.”

A rhythmic, dry scraping sound cut through the conversation.

“Wow, it’s pretty sad that you’re proud of that, old man.”

James turned. Gary sat on the bench nearby, casually running a small whetstone along the edge of a golden dagger. He looked up at James, a small, sharp grin stretching his face.

“You’ve been stuck in this Fractured Monster Zone for such a long time, you could walk around with your eyes closed now?” Gary asked. He let out a short, barking laugh.

Serina turned toward him, her hands balling into fists on the counter. “Stop it! Show some respect, will you? You’re always teasing him. He is your senior. Where are your manners?”

Gary stopped the scraping motion. “That’s just what makes him more pathetic. He is way older than me. But what’s his rank? Still a D-rank.” He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “How old are you again? Fifty?”

James ground his teeth together, the muscles in his jaw bunching. “Shut up. I’m not that old, alright?”

“Oh, sorry, Gramps,” Gary said, inspecting the edge of his blade. “But I don’t think I would have any respect for someone like you at this point. Why the fuck should a C-rank respect a pathetic D-rank in the first place? I’m just twenty-three, and I’m already targeting to become a C-rank Plus. And yet, here you are. Over fifty. And you’re still a freaking D-rank.”

He looked James up and down. “How the hell does that happen? Haven’t you been hunting for years?”

James slammed his fist onto the wooden counter. The impact rattled the papers between them. “Shut up!”

Gary looked up slowly. He didn't flinch. Instead, his irises flooded with a faint, grey luminescence. He held the dagger steady. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it if I don’t?”

James stared at the glowing eyes. A cold weight settled in his stomach.

*Damn,* James thought, his hand trembling slightly against the wood. *Even if I tried to face him, I wouldn’t have a chance. I would just embarrass myself in front of Serina. Plus, it’d just be a waste of time.*

He forced his fingers to uncurl from the fist, exhaling a long breath through his nose. *I should not let this little bastard get to me.*

He turned his back on the younger hunter and looked at the clerk. “Serina, just show me the E-rank quests you have.”

Gary returned to his blade, the rhythmic, dry rasp of stone against metal filling the silence.

“E-rank quest, right?” he muttered, shaking his head. “What a fucking coward.”

James and Serina ignored the comment, though the tension in the air thickened. Serina leaned closer, her voice dropping to a plea. “This isn’t right. You shouldn’t be taking a quest at a time like this. How about you wait until the fog clears? It’s too dangerous.”

James let out a heavy sigh. “You know I can’t wait that long. I already told you my situation. The landlord said he’s going to show up this morning. If I don’t return with the money to pay him quickly, he may just throw us out without a second thought.”

Serina’s expression crumbled. The defiance drained out of her, replaced by a quiet, resigned disappointment.

“Well...” She looked down at the counter, avoiding his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. If you die out there, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She pulled a drawer open with a sharp rattle, retrieving a small stack of papers and sliding them onto the wood. “These are all the E-rank quests that are readily available. Choose whichever one you want.”

James reached out, his fingers rough against the smooth paper. He shuffled through them slowly, scanning the details, until he stopped on a specific sheet.

“Yeah, this one,” he said. He tapped the flyer with his index finger.

Serina glanced at the page and frowned. “Wait. Why did you pick this one? This requires you to go beyond the river.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have to fight any monsters,” James replied quietly. “Don’t worry. I know how to avoid them, even in this fog.”

Serina’s lips parted. “If you knew how to avoid them, you wouldn’t have...”

She cut herself off, biting her lip. The memory of his recent injury hung unspoken between them. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then pushed a quill and a small ink pot toward him.

“Alright. Sign here.”

James took the quill and scrawled his signature at the bottom of the parchment. Serina took the paper back, placing it into a separate drawer where the active assignments were kept. She looked up at him, her green eyes serious.

“Make sure to come back quickly, alright? You know she’s always worried about you.”

James softened. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”

He turned to leave, but Gary’s voice cut through the air again.

“Yeah, right,” the younger hunter sneered, not even looking up from his dagger. “He’s going to die before he even passes the river.”

Serina shot a glare at Gary that could have melted steel. Gary just shrugged, feigning innocence. “What?”

James ignored him. He paused at the exit and turned back to the clerk. “Oh, I almost forgot my bag. You have it?”

“Oh, right. I still have it.” Serina bent down behind the counter and hauled up a brown leather bag. She placed it on the counter with a heavy thud.

James swung the strap over his shoulder, letting the bag settle against his waist. He adjusted the weight, feeling the familiar pressure against his hip.

“Right,” he said, looking out at the swirling grey mist beyond the tent flaps. “I’m off.”

He stepped out of the tent, disappearing into the fog.

Walking until the structures of the base were behind him. Immediately ahead lay the small clearing that separated the outpost from the looming tree line of the Monster Zone.

He fixed his gaze on the wall of dense vegetation. The fog clung to the trees, turning the forest into a grey, impenetrable wall. He reached for his hip, his fingers curling around the hilt of his sword.

*I know I can’t see clearly,* he thought, stepping into the undergrowth, *but the monsters are blinded too. I just have to avoid their territories.*

He moved deeper into the woods. The air grew heavier, smelling of damp earth and rotting leaves. He drew his blade inch by inch, ensuring the metal slid from the scabbard without a sound.

*I saw the supplies when I was hunting yesterday,* he recalled, his eyes scanning the shifting mists. *They were too heavy to carry then, and my hands were full. Plus, I didn't have a quest for them at the time. But since the request is open now, I should be able to grab them and come back quickly. I know exactly where they are.*

A sudden blur of motion flared in the corner of his eye.

Adrenaline flooded his veins instantly. A Red Wolf was already airborne, inches away, its jaws snapping shut inches from his leg.

James twisted his body violently, his hand tightening on the handle. He ripped the sword upward in a desperate arc. The steel met the crimson fur of the wolf’s neck, biting through muscle and bone in a single motion.

The creature let out a high, strangled yelp that was cut short as its head separated from its shoulders. The body and head hit the forest floor with two distinct, wet thuds.

James stumbled back, his chest heaving as he stared at the carcass.

*What the hell?* he thought, his grip on the sword tightening. *I didn't even hear it coming.*

He took a cautious step forward, inspecting the creature. *It must have been an E-rank.*

He turned the corpse over with his boot, staring at the severed neck.

*It must have left its territory to find food,* he thought, his brow furrowing. *But for an E-rank to wander this far beyond the river... it must have alot of condensed mana.*

He wiped his blade on the grass and continued walking.

*Looks like I still can’t hear clearly,* he realized, a cold knot tightening in his stomach. *I should have heard that wolf long before it jumped. Even with the fog, a beast that size makes noise.*

He paused, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. *Should I keep going? Maybe I can just use the savings...*

He shook his head, forcing his feet to move. *No. I have to keep going. After all, I promised.*

He pressed on. His eyes darted from the gnarled roots to the shifting grey curtains of mist, searching for movement. After several minutes, the oppressive wall of white began to thin. The dark shapes of the trees became sharper, their bark visible through the haze.

*I’m almost there.*

A sudden, wet rustle came from the bush to his right.

James reacted on instinct. A slime launched itself from the undergrowth, a glob of translucent blue aiming for his face. He immediately swung his sword in a sharp, upward arc. The blade sliced through the gelatinous body with zero resistance.

The creature split in mid-air. Before the halves could hit the ground, they dissolved into a fine blue dust, leaving only a small, solid core to clatter onto the forest floor.

James exhaled sharply. “That’s not the only monster here.”

He strained his ears. A heavy, rhythmic thumping vibrated through the soles of his boots.

*I can hear something.*

The undergrowth ahead exploded outward. A Hexhorn burst from the green cover, its massive, armored head lowered for a charge. Its hooves tore up the earth, and a jet of steam blasted from its snout as it barreled straight toward him.

James gripped his sword with both hands, planting his feet. Just as the beast reached him, he threw his body to the side. The creature rushed past, the wind of its passage tugging at James’s clothes.

The Hexhorn skidded, its hooves carving deep furrows in the dirt as it tried to kill its momentum and turn.

James lunged forward, thrusting his sword upward into the monster’s exposed flank. The steel sank deep. The beast shrieked, a high, grating sound of pain. James ripped the blade free and brought it down in a savage chop against the creature’s thick neck.

The blade didn't sever the head completely, but it bit through the spine. A spray of hot blood coated the leaves as the Hexhorn collapsed, its heavy body hitting the ground with a bone-jarring impact.

James stood over it, his chest heaving.

“Damn it,” he wheezed, wiping a splatter of blood from his cheek. “Another monster. I couldn’t hear this one as well. And Hexhorns are supposed to be loud.”

He ran a hand through his damp hair, frustration boiling over. *This is all because of yesterday. If I hadn’t met that pixel... I wouldn’t be having this much trouble right now.*

He looked down at his trembling hands. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a cold wash of fear.

*Should I really be doing this?*

He looked into the swirling fog ahead. *Maybe Serina was right. I should have waited for the fog to clear. It’s too dangerous to go on like this. I shouldn’t be risking my life for some stupid E-rank quest.*

He breathed through his nose. *I’ll go back for now. I’ll just talk to the landlord. Maybe borrow some money from someone else.*

He turned his back on the dead Hexhorn and began the walk toward the base. His head hung low, his mind racing with the humiliation of returning empty-handed.

A high pitched cry drifted through the fog, the sound of a small someone in distress.

James’s stride faltered for a fraction of a second, the instinct to stop tugging at his legs. But he shook his head, forcing his boots to keep their rhythm against the dirt.

*Must be in my head,* he thought, and continued walking.

*If things go well, we should be able to move out in a few days.*

The thought was severed instantly. A sharp, human yell erupted from the fog behind him. This time, it was unmistakable.

James spun around, adrenaline flooding his system. His teeth clenched as he faced the noise. His eye went wide.

A massive Hexhorn was already in mid-charge, its lowered head only meters away.

Before the beast could close the distance, a wooden spear whistled through the mist. It struck the monster hard in the flank, the wood sinking on the impact. The Hexhorn shrieked, its momentum broken. It tumbled sideways, crashing into the dirt and sliding to a halt just feet from James’s side

James’s eyes darted from the thrashing beast to the source of the spear.

A boy burst from the fog, sprinting straight toward them. He looked frantic. But his footing failed on the uneven ground, and he stumbled, hitting the forest floor hard.

The Hexhorn scrabbled against the dirt, its hooves tearing up the earth as it tried to rise.

James moved. He gripped his sword with both hands, stepping into the creature's guard. He drove the blade downward with all his weight, the steel sinking deep into the monster’s eye.

The creature let out a final, gurgling cry. Its massive body shivered violently for a second, then went still.

James ripped the sword free with a wet slide of metal against bone. He breathed heavily, turning his gaze to the boy, who was pushing himself up into a sitting position a few feet away.

James studied him. The young man had messy, unkempt hair. His clothes were bizarre, strange fabric that was torn and stained with dark blood. even his shoes looked like nothing James had seen in the before. The boy’s features looked foreign, out of place in this region.

James narrowed his eyes.

*Who the hell is this guy?*