From the moment I was chosen by the holy relic

On the high ground on the border of Nosteria, Eric stood alone. A gentle breeze carried a chill to his bones. He shivered involuntarily, looking up at the sky. Thick, dark clouds, like lead weights fallen from the heavens, pressed down, making it hard to breathe. The distant mountains, shrouded in the clouds, appeared even more somber, as if concealing some ominous premonition. The air was damp, a sign of an impending storm.

On the meadow, a few wildflowers, lacking sunlight, looked listless, their dull colors contrasting sharply with the gloomy sky. In the silent wilderness, the occasional faint birdcall drifted through, its sound so lonely and powerless. Even nature seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for some uncertain future. Eric felt a growing heaviness in his heart, as if everything was mocking his incompetence and ordinariness.

Today is a very special day for Eric; it's his 18th birthday.

In Nosteria, turning eighteen signifies that he is a true adult and a knight officially recognized by the kingdom. He can finally carry out missions independently and serve his country.

However, this day was not different from his coming of age and birthday. He was assigned to border patrol, a task he had carried out countless times before.

Eric gazed at the distant mountains shrouded in shadow, a sense of loss washing over him. He had once imagined spending his eighteenth birthday on the battlefield, sword in hand, fighting for the kingdom's honor. But the silent scene before him was a far cry from his expectations.

"Why today of all days?" he sighed silently to himself.

His desire wasn't simply to patrol the border; he longed to prove himself in fierce battle and become a hero of Nosteria. In his childhood dreams, he had seen himself countless times, wielding a gleaming longsword, standing atop the corpses of his enemies, winning cheers and accolades.

Nosteria, as the warrior nation among the five great nations, places great importance on strength and honor, so it's no wonder that Eric craves battle.

Unfortunately, reality always seems to work against him.

Eric continued his patrol towards the other side of the border, his steps firm and powerful, carrying the enthusiasm of a young knight. However, the desolate scenery around him still weighed heavily on his heart. There was almost no sign of life on this land; occasionally, a few short blades of grass swayed precariously in the cold wind, seemingly struggling to survive.

He smiled helplessly, feeling as if he were just like these wild grasses, one of them, swaying in the cold wind, possibly to be swallowed up in this boundless wilderness at any moment.

But now, all of this seems to have faded into silence.

"Am I destined to spend my whole life guarding the border and performing monotonous patrol duties?" Eric silently asked himself.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but clench his fists, a sense of unwillingness rising within him. Becoming a knight was his dream, but more importantly, he longed to prove his worth through battle and sacrifice.

Unbeknownst to him, he had patrolled to the edge of a grove of trees. Whenever he saw this grove, he knew that his patrol was about to end. He would stand up, turn around, and return the way he came.

"No, I can't go on like this. Maybe one day I'll encounter my own challenge, a real challenge. Perhaps that day isn't far off." He comforted himself, while also looking forward to the day when, maybe tomorrow, or some unknown moment, he would embark on a true adventure.

Just as Eric was lost in thought, a soft rustling sound came from the bushes behind him.

He was startled. Years of training had made him instantly alert. The sound was not the ordinary rustling of wind, but rather the sound of someone moving cautiously, trying to remain unnoticed. His fingers subtly tightened around the hilt of his sword, but he did not immediately turn around to check. Instead, he pretended not to hear and continued walking forward, his steps seemingly casual, but his mind was already tense.

"There are people operating on the border. What are they doing? They're acting suspiciously; it doesn't seem like a simple matter." A surge of anticipation welled up within Eric. Perhaps this really was an opportunity; maybe he could catch some lurking spy, or even a spy from an enemy country, today!

He slowed his pace, hid behind the bushes, and listened intently. The sounds from the grass became clearer, occasionally punctuated by whispers, as if two or three people were communicating quietly.

Eric observed the situation while holding his breath, trying to remain completely hidden. He knew he needed patience; rushing out rashly might alert them and ruin this rare opportunity. He pressed himself against the bushes, his eyes narrowed, intently watching the group in the distance.

The men were wary, their eyes darting around, occasionally exchanging hushed whispers with a hint of suppressed tension. Eric quickly identified the leader: the others looked at him cautiously, afraid of saying something wrong and getting into trouble. The leader was a burly man, dressed in dark brown leather armor with a tattered black cloak draped over his shoulders, looking very capable.

"Captain, do you think that pointy-eared one will come back? Were we tricked by her?" a dwarf with a pointed snout and monkey-like face asked quietly. Although Eric hadn't seen many dwarves, this was truly the first time he'd seen one with this kind of appearance.

The leader didn't reply, but instead glared at him fiercely, his fingers lightly stroking the dagger at his waist, as if deliberately concealing his inner anxiety. The dwarf shrank back in fear, not daring to utter another sound.

Just then, a nimble figure silently appeared at the edge of the woods. No one noticed how she appeared; it was as if she had materialized out of thin air. It was an elven woman wearing a hood. As she slowly approached, her hood slipped down, revealing a head of dazzling golden hair, like ears of wheat illuminated by the morning sun, radiating a soft and captivating light. Her features were exquisite, her skin as white as jade, and her amber eyes gleamed with a calm light in the dim light, revealing a composure and vigilance.

Eric carefully observed the elven woman. She wore a tight-fitting robe adorned with ancient runes that faintly glowed with a pale blue light, seemingly some kind of protective magic. A small dagger and several vials of various colors hung from her belt at her waist, while her left hand calmly gripped an exquisitely carved staff, its top inlaid with a blue crystal that emitted a slightly cold light. Eric was certain she was an elven mage. Her expression was calm and composed, as if she didn't consider these people as complete allies.

Eric held his breath, a sense of curiosity and doubt rising in his heart: Why would such a mysterious and elegant elf willingly join this group of thieves? Her background and temperament were clearly incompatible with these uncouth people, and the faint reserve and arrogance revealed in her eyes made her look like a noble exotic flower forced to grow in this muddy place.

"I'm sorry I'm late," the elven woman said casually, without a trace of apology in her tone.

The leading man nodded to the elf, let out a long sigh, and said with a hint of displeasure in his voice, "We are all helpless against the barrier and can only rely on you. Don't let me down."

The elven woman nodded indifferently, her amber eyes as deep as a still pool, almost unmoved. She brushed her long golden hair behind her ear, revealing delicate, pointed ears, seemingly oblivious to the displeasure in the man's words. She said coldly, "I'm only responsible for breaking the barrier; everything else is none of my concern."

Eric observed her every move from the shadows, suppressing his excitement. This might be a good opportunity for him to make a name for himself. If he could stop the theft and bring these people to justice, he could prove his loyalty and courage to Nostria.

However, he also knew that he might not be able to gain the upper hand in a fight against a mage, as the elf's staff and the runes on her body clearly indicated that she possessed powerful magic.

"Perhaps we can wait until she casts her spell and then seize the opportunity to disrupt their plans," he thought to himself.

Eric followed cautiously behind them, trying not to make a sound. The surrounding woods grew denser, and occasionally a branch would brush against his armor, making a soft rustling sound. He slowed his pace, pulled up his hood, and kept his eyes fixed on the backs of the group ahead. They seemed very familiar with their surroundings, occasionally conversing in hushed tones about their route.

Gradually, the surrounding vegetation became more and more lush, with ancient trees having intertwined roots and trunks covered with thick moss and gray-green vines. The air was filled with a faint scent of damp earth, and the occasional cawing of crows made Eric tense, his palms gripping the hilt of his sword already damp with sweat.

Suddenly, Eric's eyes lit up. The group had finally stopped in a secluded depression. Through the dense vines, he saw that they were standing in front of some dilapidated stone tablets and carved ruins. The weathered stone surfaces were covered with cracks and ancient runes, mostly buried by the dust of time.

The burly man leading the group took out a handful of leaves from his pocket. The leaves shone with a golden light under the sunlight. Eric immediately understood that only gold could emit such an alluring glow. This was a handful of golden leaves!

The man walked to the center of the stone tablet, raised his hand, and forcefully threw the golden leaves into the air. An amazing scene unfolded: the leaves, as if they were alive, flew in unison towards an inconspicuous stone tablet in the corner, eventually covering the entire tablet neatly.

The leading man strode forward and gently patted the stone tablet three times. A slight vibration was heard, and the entrance to the ruins opened slightly on the ground. Steps filled with soil and fallen leaves could be vaguely seen extending downwards, as if leading to some forgotten underground world. The golden leaves gradually turned to ashes and drifted away in the heartbroken eyes of the crowd.

"How did you find out?" the elven mage asked, voicing the question Eric had also wanted to ask.

"This is how we make a living," the leader said with some pride. "Alright, let's go in and activate the barrier inside."

The elf nodded, stood before the entrance to the ruins, closed her eyes slightly, gently raised her hands, and took a deep breath, seemingly sensing the power of the barrier. Her brows were furrowed, and her delicate face appeared exceptionally solemn. This barrier seemed far more complex than she had anticipated, as if it possessed layers of protection, each reinforced by different runes, requiring her to break through them one by one.

Suddenly she opened her eyes and slowly chanted a spell. Subtle blue light flowed from the fingertips of her hands. When the light touched the surface of the barrier, the barrier trembled slightly like ripples on water, but then returned to normal.

She gritted her teeth, made a slight adjustment, and continued to increase her magical output. Everyone around her held their breath, their eyes fixed on her. Everyone knew that without her power, they would be unable to reach the core of the ruins.

As the incantation was chanted, intricate runes appeared on the barrier, as if resisting her magic. More sweat began to bead on the elf's brow, her lips trembled slightly, and her voice grew weaker. Blue light flowed continuously from her fingertips, as if she were trying to peel back layers of mist to find the most hidden weakness.

Just as the magic was nearly exhausted, the barrier finally showed a slight weakening. The elf took a deep breath, poured the last of his magic into his fingertips, and focused his mind to send this wisp of blue light into the weakest point of the barrier. Instantly, a tiny crack appeared on the surface of the barrier, which then rapidly expanded, and the blue light scattered and shattered, like countless stars disappearing into the darkness.

The moment the blue light dissipated, the elf staggered, almost losing her balance, her legs slightly weak. Sweat streamed down her forehead, and her face was pale from the excessive consumption of magic.

Seeing the barrier broken, Eric saw it as the perfect opportunity to apprehend the tomb raiders. He took a deep breath, calmly leaped from the bushes, his face radiating righteous indignation, and his voice boomed like thunder in their ears: "You have trespassed into the kingdom's territory and stolen relics, a grave violation of the laws of Nosteria. In the name of the King, you are hereby arrested. Lay down your weapons, or pay the price for your crimes."

"Law? We're not afraid of any bullshit laws!" the leader said sarcastically.

The elf sneered. If she were at her peak, she wouldn't have taken this brat seriously at all, but now she had to be cautious. She slightly raised her staff and began to chant a spell rapidly, intending not to give Eric a chance to react.

However, Eric had anticipated that she wouldn't give in so easily. With a leap, he charged forward like the wind. His longsword traced a smooth arc, striking precisely at the elf's staff.

"Bang!" The sword clashed against the staff, producing a crisp sound. The elf staggered back in pain, the staff slipping from her hand and falling heavily to the ground with a dull thud. Her expression changed, a hint of surprise and resentment flashing in her eyes. She hadn't expected the seemingly inexperienced knight's swordsmanship to be so exquisite and skillful.

Eric calmly steadied himself, his longsword pointing steadily at the elf. His gaze, sharp as an eagle's, fixed on her, carrying a silent, intimidating power.

The elf stood there helplessly. Although she still had some strength, without her staff, her threat to Eric suddenly decreased.

"Enough, give up," Eric said in a deep voice, his tone carrying an undeniable authority. The tip of his sword trembled slightly, its cold light flashing, as if it could pierce the elf before him at any moment.

Seeing the subdued elf, Eric slightly turned his head, trying to confirm the location of the others, when suddenly a swift gust of wind came from behind him. He realized something was wrong and was about to draw his sword when he felt a violent impact from behind. The dwarf, wielding a thick club, struck him hard on the shoulder.

Eric felt a tearing pain in his shoulder, lost his balance, his longsword slipped from his hand, and he fell forward to the ground. He instinctively rolled to the side, trying to create distance, but the attacker behind him, emboldened by his success, continued to pounce on him, then slammed another blow into his head. Eric felt as if his head was about to split open. He struggled to his feet, supporting himself with his hands, when suddenly he lost consciousness. Before he passed out, he heard the leader of the group mockingly say, "I thought you were so capable, but you're just a greenhorn knight."