Chapter 2: Determination

Vincent's fingers danced in the air as he summoned his water magic. The cool droplets washed over him, cleansing away the day's grime and sweat. As the water cascaded down his body, the tantalizing aroma of grilled fish drifted through the bathroom door, stirring his hunger.

"Dinner must be done!" Vincent thought as he hastily dried himself off. After the last few hours hunting, Vincent could feel his stomach craving for nourishment. Today's dinner would be a simple grilled fish and potatoes meal, along with a side of vegetables grown by an elderly neighbor from the village. 

As Vincent entered the kitchen, Mabel looked up from her cooking, a light chuckle grazing her face as she saw her son's hurried expression. "Come sit Vinny, you're just in time!" she stated

"Thanks, Mom. It smells great!" Vincent replied, his loud stomach rumbling echoing through the room before he could successfully take a seat. Just like that, the family started their meal while making small talk about their day.

Mabel took a sip of her drink before speaking, her tone suddenly more serious. "Vinny, I heard that a knights unit from the Church of the Red Moon will be passing through our village tomorrow afternoon"

Vincent's fork stopped mid-air as his eyes opened in excitement. "Really? That's interesting, I wonder if they will have any stories to share with us…" 

Pausing mid-sentence, Vincent calmed his nerves with a large breath before stating "Mom, you know, I've always wanted to follow in Dad’s footsteps and join the church…"

Mabel sighed, worry apparent on her face. "I know Vinny, but it's not an easy path. Your father struggled immensely during his time as a knight and in the end even he…" Her voice wavered, as her eyes started to tear.

After losing her husband 10 years ago while he was on a mission for the church, Mabel's biggest fear in life had constantly been losing her precious son as well.

Vincent set down his fork and looked into his mother's eyes. "I understand the risks, Mom" he said, his tone firm yet caring. "But it's what I want to do, not just for Dad, but for my own dreams. I'm determined to join the church and become a knight"

Mabel studied her son's face, seeing the resolute determination in his light red eyes that so closely resembled his late father's. She knew that there was no swaying him from this course, but her heart ached with worry all the same.

"Alright, Vinny" she conceded softly. "Just promise me you'll be careful and remember, no matter happens what you will always have a home right here”

Vincent reached over and squeezed his mother's hand, reassuring her with a warm smile. "I promise, Mom. And I love you too" Together, they finished their meal in silence, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air, as the sun slowly curved around the horizon.

Mabel stood in the kitchen drying her hands on a small towel, her voice weighted with concern. "I know how much you want this, but the Church has its many enemies. Countless knights have passed away…”

"Mom, I've thought about this long and hard" Vincent replied, his eyes set in determination. "I'm willing to face any dangers that come my way"

Mabel sighed, her shoulders sagging as she realized she couldn't change her son's mind. "Very well" she muttered, tears welling up in her eyes. "Finish your dinner, we'll talk more tomorrow" 

With a heavy sigh, she bid him goodnight and watched him retreat to his room, each step echoing through their quaint home.

—

As dawn broke the following morning, Vincent got dressed quickly in his hunting clothes, he was eager to finish his daily hunt before the knights arrived in the evening. With the forest's beauty lying in wait for him, he lightened his footsteps onto the mossy floor as he ventured deeper into the woods, his senses alert for any potential signs of wildlife.

It wasn't long before he spotted a large deer drinking by a small river, its delicate ears twitching at the slightest sound. Vincent crouched low, heart pounding with anticipation as he carefully observed the large animal. He knew the importance of patience in hunting, but his thoughts couldn't help but flicker back to the conversation with his mother.

As Vincent prepared to make his move, the deer raised its head, sensing an unknown presence. Time seemed to slow as he sprung into action, focusing all his energy on the task at hand. The world around him faded into the background, leaving only the sound of his own light breathing filling the air.

Vincent's pulse quickened as he watched the unsuspecting deer drink from the river. Steadying his breathing, he extended his hands and let the familiar flow of mana take over. A sudden torrent of water surged around him, twisting and coiling around his outstretched arm as if it were alive.

"Now" he muttered, directing the water whip with precision toward the deer's hind legs. The whip lashed out, wrapping tightly around the animal's limbs and yanking it off balance.

The deer let out a panicked snort before starting to thrash wildly on the ground, its large beady eyes filled with fear. Vincent winced at the sight but didn’t let the moment shake him from his goal.

"Sorry, friend!" he whispered softly, focusing his mana once more. This time, the water morphed into a sharp lance aimed at the back of the struggling deer's neck. With a swift motion, Vincent released the weapon, piercing the animal's vulnerable spot and ending its life instantly.

Exhaling deeply, Vincent released his magical hold on the water, allowing it to flow back into nothingness. He took a moment to sit down and catch his breath, feeling the adrenaline drift away.

As he sat there, something caught his attention. Small animals were fleeing the area in droves, their fear palpable in the air. Vincent frowned, sensing that something was off. It was still the middle of summer, and far from migration season.

Before he could contemplate further, a blaring snort filled the air, and a red horned-boar burst from the undergrowth, charging straight toward him.

"Again?" Vincent grumbled, jumping to his feet and narrowly dodging the boar's attack. "Guess today's not my lucky day"

He cursed under his breath, watching the boar snort and circle him menacingly. It was smaller than the one he had faced the day before, so he wasn’t as worried.

"Try your best, little piggie" Vincent stated, preparing for another battle with his magic. The boar lunged at him, its sharp horn gleaming dangerously in the bright sunlight, but Vincent was ready.

Despite his confidence, he knew that victory was far from guaranteed. He had no plans of going easy on an opponent aiming for his life.

"Let’s get this over with" he whispered, charging directly at the horned beast.

Gritting his teeth, Vincent propelled himself forward, using the momentum to form a whip out of water magic. It cracked through the air as he aimed for the boar's legs, hoping to burden its movements. The boar snorted in annoyance, evading the first strike but was unable to fully dodge the second. The water whip wrapped around one of its legs, causing it to stumble.

"Got you!" Vincent shouted, his voice filled with adrenaline. He could feel his stamina waning, but refused to back down. With a firm grip, he formed another lance out of water magic and drove it toward the enraged boar.

"Just…stay...down!" he grunted, while forcing the lance into the creature's side multiple times. The boar squealed in pain before collapsing to the ground, defeated. Vincent stood over his fallen opponent, both relieved and exhausted.

"Phew" he gasped, wiping sweat from his face. “I should hurry home”

With his body aching, he stumbled towards the nearby river, eager to quench his thirst and soothe his parched throat. As he knelt by the riverbank, he cupped his hands and let the cool water flow between his fingers. Closing his eyes, he drank, letting the exhaustion flow out of his body.

Suddenly a chill ran down his spine, prompting him to open his eyes. In the water's reflection, a hulking figure loomed behind him, a giant orc with skin like some shriveled tree bark and eyes that glinted with malice. Panic surged through Vincent's veins; he had barely enough time to process the danger before the orc's fist came crashing down.

"Move!" Vincent screamed internally, his instincts taking over. He threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the orc's crushing blow while colliding with the hard ground beneath him. His heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to regain his footing.

Gritting his teeth, Vincent clenched his fists and attempted to create another water magic lance. He could feel the strain of his depleted mana reserves, as if an invisible force was holding him back. "Come on!" he muttered under his breath, desperately trying to gather every remaining drop of mana.

The orc snarled menacingly, brandishing a crude weapon made from a torn-apart tree with its twisted fingers. It swung wildly at Vincent, who narrowly avoided each blow by inches. His heart raced, and sweat beaded on his face as fear threatened to consume him.

As the orc lunged for him again, Vincent tried once more to summon his water magic. This time, instead of a lance, only a pitiful stream of water escaped from his fingertips. The realization dawned on him… he was running on empty.

"Is...is this it?" he thought, despair creeping in. "Am I really going to die here?"

Refusing to give up, Vincent used every ounce of his strength he could muster to dodge the orc's relentless assault. Weaving in between the trees in an attempt to escape, he could feel his body draining of energy with every step he took.

"Think, Vincent, think!" he urged his mind, desperately seeking a way out of this dire situation.

Just as he found a brief moment of respite, ducking behind a thick tree trunk, the orc's fist slammed into the back of his head with a sickening crunch. Pain exploded through his skull, blurring his vision and sending him tumbling to the ground.

"Ugh...!" he groaned, the world spinning around him. His body refused to obey his commands, and he could barely keep his eyes open. The savage roars of the orc grew louder as it closed in on him, laughing at its victory.

As darkness encroached upon his consciousness, Vincent's thoughts drifted to his mother, Mabel. He knew she would be heartbroken if she lost him, but he was powerless to stop it. With a final, desperate plea for help, he prayed that someone, anyone, would come to his aid.