Although the grand mission of the Abyss of Souls lood over Aeloria, Jon held other plans in his mind. On his last sojourn through this world, he had charted a ticulous path—one that would carry him from a re villager to a legendary hero. The "A New Beginning" mod aid to thrust players into one of the nurous hamlets scattered amidst the great realms, allowing them to experience the humble life of a villager before ascending to greatness.
The mod’s design was clear: start from the bottom, feel the weight of everyday life, and eventually erge as Aeloria’s fated savior. Yet, Jon was aware of the risks. Death in this world was an enigma. Would it be the end? Would he wake up in his bed, as if nothing had happened, or would he be yanked back into reality? Or perhaps death here was definitive, an eternal farewell.
These uncertainties weighed upon him, making each decision, each step, crucial. He couldn’t afford to follow the expected narrative, not when so much was at stake. Instead, Jon was determined to strengthen himself, to prepare for the challenges to co, while simultaneously savoring every mont of this life which, in a way, fulfilled a long-cherished dream.
North of Riverwood, an ancient relic stood tall: one of the coveted moonstones. In ancient tis, these stones held the key to unimaginable power in Aeloria, granting adventurers experience bonuses and skills that rendered them nearly invincible. It was one reason why many found the original ga too easy, as these stones could transform even the most inexperienced players into formidable warriors.
For Jon, the stone represented an opportunity. In its original setup, it could have been the solution to his problems, making his journey in Aeloria much more manageable. However, in his wisdom or perhaps imprudence, he had modified that function. Now, the stone no longer bestowed powerful class bonuses. Instead, it granted only a 50% increase in acquired experience, and that lasted for only a week.
It might seem like a significant boon, but in Aeloria, a player’s level was relative. The creatures of the world adapted, growing in strength and cunning as the player progressed. This made the world challenging for those seeking to level up quickly, but it also rewarded those who delighted in the rich history and lore.
Jon contemplated his plan for the upcoming days with a mixture of determination and hesitation. His first step would be to head towards the mysterious Moonstone. Then, ard with his father’s ancient bow that he had unearthed among the dusty family belongings, he set out to hunt. Not just any hunt, but small animals that could be sold in the nearby village.
The idea seed simple, but reality was quite different. The return was minimal, almost symbolic. Selling an animal could earn him only two Tils a day, an amount that barely covered his basic needs. Yet, for Jon, it wasn’t just about survival or profit. It was a journey of self-discovery.
He rembered the first ti he hunted. The image of himself, a young man who had spent most of his life imrsed in fictional worlds, vomiting after taking down a simple rabbit, was vivid in his mind. That mont was a shock to his system, a brutal reality that contrasted with the secluded and sheltered life he had led until then. But it was also an opportunity. A chance to beco acquainted with this new world, to learn its rules, and perhaps find his place within it.
The effort seed disproportionate to the gain, but Jon knew that every step, no matter how small, brought him closer to a deeper understanding of himself and the world around him. It was a beginning, and he was willing to move forward.
Jon laid out a ticulous plan for the days ahead. Firstly, he would make his way to the enigmatic Moonstone. Then, ard with an ancient bow that had once belonged to his father and that he had rediscovered among family relics, he set out to hunt small animals. The idea was to sell his catch in the village market.
It was a considerable effort for a nearly insignificant return. Nevertheless, Jon realized how unfamiliar he was with this world. The mory of himself, desolate and vomiting after taking down a simple rabbit, was vivid and unsettling. For soone who had lived as a reclusive otaku, that experience had been a shock. Still, this daily challenge would earn him at least two Tils per day. Though it was a paltry amount and the effort seed uncompensated, it was a start for him.
Jon’s morning routine always began the sa way since he found himself in that world. His mother, with a tone mixed between concern and tenderness, called out, "Jon, breakfast is on the table, co down quickly!" It was a summons he faithfully heard every day. The welcoming aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, awakening all of Jon’s senses.
While savoring the delicious taste of the morning al, Jon made a decision. It was ti to tell his father about his plan, though he decided to omit the part about his journey to the moonstone. He knew that the distance and dangers of that mission might lead his parents to stop him.
"I’m thinking of taking up your old hunting bow, dad. I hope you don’t mind," Jon said, looking at his father with a mix of anxiety and hope. To his surprise, a smile spread across the man’s face. It seed this mont had been awaited for a long ti.
"I thought this day would never co," his father muttered, his voice laden with nostalgia and restrained pride. "Alright, since I’ll be busy, you’ll have to learn to use it on your own. Just be careful not to hurt yourself." Despite attempting to sound stern, his father couldn’t hide the excitent and joy of seeing his son follow the path he himself had nearly walked. In the man’s eyes, a discreet tear threatened to escape, but it was a tear of happiness and fulfillnt.
With a bow slightly too large for a 7-year-old boy and a quiver full of arrows, a gift from his father, Jon headed toward the forest near the village. To avoid raising suspicions with his parents, he chose to head in the opposite direction of the moonstone. As he charted his path to begin his plans, the sweet voice of a girl caught Jon’s attention.
"Jon, where are we playing today?" The voice belonged to Gwen, the daughter of an old friend of his father. The two shared a history as mbers of the sa hunting group. Despite being only 8 years old, a year older than Jon, Gwen already showed signs of her unique beauty. Her fiery red hair flowed in long strands, and her light blue eyes were a crystalline reflection of her Breton lineage. Jon frequently wondered how the creator of the "mod" that enhanced everyone’s beauty had achieved such perfection.
However, Jon’s plans were set and couldn’t be swayed. He responded with a mixture of regret and determination, "Today won’t work, Gwen." The friendship between them, rooted in the legacy of their parents as hunting companions, but today due to his predetermined plan, he couldn’t spend the day playing and admiring the beauty of his childhood friend he had known for two weeks. (section containing irony.)
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