The pine forest was a bright, spacious place with the distance between trees wide enough for a horse to roam around freely. Deeper within the forest, the squeal of a dying goblin rang clear. Its blood dyed the dry leaves on the forest ground as Rohan pulled his sword out from the rib of the goblin.

[You have gained 1 Exp.]

Rohan panted for his breath. His eyes stared at the fifth goblin he killed after that close-to-death situation.

[You have level up.]

[You have gained 5 points.]

[Class bonus stat distributed; +1 Arcane, +1 Charisma]

The long-awaited level finally came and yet, neither his eyes nor lips were smiling. He brushed his finger on his cheek and looked at the fresh blood that stained it. Rohan frowned. He made a careless mistake, as the dead goblin before him managed to claw its way through the flesh of his cheek. It was a one-on-one situation, and yet he still took damage.

“Excuse me, Master,” Giotto said. He was quick in his hand and feet and by the time Rohan turned to him, Giotto’s hand touched him by the cheek. A warm energy coursed through Rohan’s skin as Giotto did the usual. After every fight, Giotto healed Rohan whenever Rohan was hurt.

“For the hundredth time, Giotto, don’t call me Master,” Rohan said with a heavy sigh. “Just call me as usual like milord or something.”

“No, Master, it would be too rude of me,” Giotto replied.

“But isn’t it ruder if you don’t follow the Master’s words?” Rohan asked, smirking.

Giotto fell silent. Knowing he was in the wrong, sweat started to come out through the pores of his skin. Then he realized what he should do.

“Forgive me!” Giotto slammed his knees to the ground, bowing his head. He hoped his mistake would be forgiven.

Again, Rohan sighed. This new ‘ally’ of his tended to go overboard, yet he understood a bit of it. Throughout most of Giotto’s life had been spent as a slave and it was a difficult thing to break through such a mold. And returning back to being a slave wasn’t making it any helpful. ‘Let’s deal with this mindset later. First thing first, we need to get out of here,’ Rohan thought.

“You’re forgiven,” Rohan said. Aiding the cleric to stand up. “How about this, for now just called me ‘Boss’.”

“Boss?” Giotto said.

“Yea . . . It’s a word that means the same thing like a King or something,” Rohan replied, scrunching up something just for the sake of not using ‘Master’.

Giotto smiled. “A King. A befitting word for my Mas—”

“Nuh-uh,” Rohan cut him off. Waving his finger at him. “It’s Boss, and not the M-word, okay?”

“Yes, Boss!” Giotto replied. His back was straight like an arrow as if this new word fueled his heart to give his utmost to Rohan.

With that matter settled, the duo delved further into the pine woods. Rohan took the lead, keeping an eye over everything in front. He had been lucky for the past five fights since it was all a one on one battle. If it was another group attack, he would definitely flee rather than fight. Coming close to death once was enough for today and he did not want to test his luck for the second time.

[Rohan Prynne][Lv.2]

[Race: Human]

[Class: Slavemancer]

[HP: 32/34]

[EP: 7/14]

[MP: 10/14]

[Strength: 6]

[Endurance: 7]

[Defense: 2]

[Dexterity: 5]

[Arcane: 7]

[Willpower: 4]

[Perception: 5]

[Charisma: 14]

[Points available: 5]

‘Now, what should I do?’ Rohan thought. Points distribution was still an important matter to think of, and one of the stats caught his eye. ‘Should I put a few in Perception?’ The perception he knew in RPG-game was pertaining to detecting danger, noticing the tiniest details, gauging distance for long-range skills, and perhaps even aiding a bit in reading people.

‘Nah. Let’s keep it safe. I only live once and I don’t wanna try experimenting with the possibility of respawning.’ Rohan thrashed the idea and placed his points; two to strength, two to defense, and one to endurance. The bump in health point was a good reassurance for keeping himself alive and he advised the same to Giotto.

Soon they stumbled two goblins walking side by side like taking a leisure stroll in the park. For a while, he noticed something odd. These goblins were pretty docile when they didn’t see him, but once they did, they went mad as if a switch had been flipped on. From what he saw it was as if they had been programmed to do so or was it something more primal? Like intense hatred to a certain species or something.

“Oh. They saw us,” Rohan said.

By chance, he met eyes with one of the goblins, and true to what he had observed for a while, the goblin went ballistic. It shrieked in its cackling annoying voice, riling the other goblin into a berserking state. The two of them rushed on their small stinking feet, striding through the forest floor in the attempt of biting Rohan to his death.

“Well . . . That escalated pretty fast,” Rohan emerged from hiding behind the tree trunk and twirled the sword in his hand. He got pretty calm after a few more fights. No more shaking in his hands like the first time he fought against four of them at once.

“There’s two, you want to take the other one?” Rohan asked.

“Uh . . . Um . . . Is that an order, Boss?” Giotto asked, visibly shaken by the sudden invitation.

“Here, take the dagger,” Rohan unsheathed his dagger and threw it nonchalantly to the unprepared cleric.

Giotto juggled the bladed weapon and by luck, he grabbed it by the hilt without cutting himself. Yet his shaking hands was not a good sign.

“Boss, can’t I—”

“It’s only a goblin, Giotto,” Rohan slapped Giotto hard on the back. “And with your new stats, you’re more than enough for it.”

“Boss, I’m the healer, and you—”

“Are you giving orders now?” Rohan asked, glaring to the side.

Giotto had his mouth sealed as he felt ice coursing in his veins. Once again, he did a mistake there and the downed head and the slouching shoulders showed he was not that good at hiding his inner thought.

“Thinking of it this way. If I died, what are you going to do?” Rohan asked. “Are you just going to run away until you get eaten by goblins, or are you going stand here and learn how to fight?”

“Boss, you’re not going to—”

“Listen here, Giotto. I know you were once a slave and still think of yourself as one. But you’re not,” Rohan said. Striking his words right at the depth of Giotto’s heart. “Even with that mark on the back of your hand, you’re a freeman, and to live out here in the world, you need to take it by the horn. So grab it in your hands and face it with courage.”

It was quite a good pep talk and deep down Rohan was pretty proud of it. The light in Giotto’s eyes slightly changed. His hands were still shaking, but the grip on the dagger tightened hard.

“Good. You take left and I’ll handle the right,” Rohan said. His feet pushed forward, lightly jogging towards the sprinting goblins. Slightly glancing back, Giotto trailed from behind and despite the slower steps, it was still a big improvement.

Then he met the goblin head-on. The sole of his boot lunged forward like a spear stabbing its enemy. The goblin who was sprinting hard got no room to dodge with all the momentum propelling it forward. Rohan’s boot found the solar plexus of the goblin and its feet left the ground.

The short stature goblin fell hard on the ground as it coughed a few times over that nasty kick. If it was from afar it would have looked like a pitiful child in pain. But it wasn’t. It was a monster. A goblin. A creature that relished human meat.

The shriek of metal against its scabbard rang loud as Rohan shortened the distance. He was not the type to wait for his enemy to get up on its feet, and he was sure as hell going to take the advantage of it.

The pained goblin looked up as a shadow eclipsed over it. It barely registered in its eyes before the sharp edge of a knight's sword met its flesh. It squealed over the pain but stopped short. The blade in Rohan’s hand cut through its neck as he lopped off the entire head. For once it was a smooth slice and the confrontation ended quickly.

[You have gained 1 Exp.]

The loud cries of Giotto made him turn. The cleric swung his sword wildly, missing at every chance. The goblin found its opportunity and tackled Giotto by the knee. Both fell to the ground as they struggled for dominance. The sword fell from Giotto’s hand as the battle went with simple hand-to-hand combat. The goblin got the upper hand, mounting on top of Giotto. Its crooked smile flashed those nasty rotten teeth as it swiped its claws at the frightened man.

Giotto screamed. Pain riddling across his face with blood trickling down with fear starting to heighten in his eyes. Yet the shout of a man echoed in his ears.

“Fight!” Rohan said.

As if a switch had been flipped, the glint behind Giotto’s eyes changed once again. A battle cry rang between his lips and the cleric fought back. He punched at the pit of the bulging stomach of the goblin and the attack stopped. Giotto pushed the goblin and their position swapped. The goblin was below and he was on top. The docile man was no longer there as within his mind, one word echoed continuously. ‘Fight, fight, fight, fight…’

Eyes slowly filled with rage as bony knuckles rained upon the downed goblin. Giotto yelled throughout the onslaught as he no longer looked like a peaceful cleric. Blow after blow and the goblin below slowly could not raise its hands anymore. Blood covered Giotto’s bony fists as it could be either his or the goblin he killed. Even after death and the new message, Giotto did not stop his assault.

“Giotto,” Rohan called. Yet his voice was too weak against the battle cry of a man fueled by a single word. “Giotto!” Rohan shouted and grabbed the cleric by the shoulder.

Almost immediately the yell and the assault stopped. Heavy breathing filled their ears as Giotto looked at what he had done. He stared at his bloody fists and the trembling returned once more. Giotto could not believe what he had done. He turned to the side and saw Rohan.

“Boss,” Giotto said. His tone was weak and confused. As if the man was on the verge of crying.

“You did good,” Rohan said, faking a smile. He aided Giotto to stand as they left the goblin corpses behind.

“That wasn’t me,” Giotto said. Never before in his life, he had felt that much rage as it consumed him from the inside.

“It happens,” Rohan said. “When things get ugly, people tend to change.”

Despite what he said, he had other ideas over what had happened. ‘Did I do this?’ At first, he thought of supporting Giotto with his Amplify skill, but from how it went his help was not needed. In his eyes, Giotto changed immediately after that command he said. It got him thinking whether that order he gave was the reason why Giotto turned that aggressive. But he had no concrete proof over that statement as it could be anything. The cleric could have another side that he did not know of or the adrenaline pumping in Giotto’s veins might have somehow affected his psyche. For now, Rohan could only speculate.

“Boss, am I not fit to be a cleric?” Giotto asked, staring Rohan right in the eye. His pitiful-looking brown eyes were begging for an answer.

“I’m not sure,” he said. His answer cast a gloomy look on Giotto. Yet he wasn’t finished. “But there’s a saying in my family, a saying that will always be stuck in my mind since the day I was born . . . We can, we will, we win. You know what it means?”

Giotto shook his head.

“We Prynnes, no matter how hard things get, we’re taught to get up, and do it again . . . No matter how many times we fall, we utter those words like a prayer. In my family, giving up is not an option. And now . . . You’re one of us,” Rohan said, poking Giotto in the middle of his chest.

“You mean, I’m family?” Giotto asked.

“You called me Boss. So of course you’re family,” Rohan smiled. “And since you’re family. You need to remember these words. We can, we will, we win.”

“We can . . . We will . . . We win,” Giotto repeated.

“Good, and remember this. As long as you’re under me, you can never doubt yourself, and you can never say never, and you will never give up, you get it?” Rohan said.

Giotto nodded. His eyes focused and determined. “I’ll burn your words into my heart and soul. I will not let you down, Boss,” Giotto said with confidence in his tone. The trembling stopped and a fire lighted in the cleric’s heart.

Then something appeared.

[ +25 Likeness to Giotto]

[Giotto’s Relationship: 75(Loyal)]

‘Well . . . I didn't expect that.’