The morning sun had barely crested the eastern mountains when the shrine in Woodhaven's square began to pulse with its familiar blue light. Cain watched from the forge doorway as the day's first Adventurers materialized, their forms coalescing from particles of light. This daily spectacle had long since lost its wonder for most villagers, but something about it still captivated Cain.

"Back to work," Edric called from inside. "Those sword hilts won't wrap themselves."

Cain returned to his workbench, but his thoughts remained on the new arrivals. Each day brought different faces, different names floating above unfamiliar heads, yet the patterns remained the same. The confusion as they tested their movements, the wonder as they examined their surroundings, the inevitable procession to his mother for guidance and then to the forge for their first weapons.

By mid-morning, the shop was busy with customers. Edric handled most transactions while Cain focused on crafting. A steady rhythm of hammer on metal filled the air, punctuated by the chime of the door as Adventurers entered and exited.

"Excuse me," a soft voice broke through the ambient noise.

Cain looked up to find a young woman standing before his workbench. Her hair was the color of autumn leaves, falling in gentle waves around a face that seemed genuinely curious rather than merely seeking information for practical advancement. Above her head, the name "EmberHeart" floated in letters that glowed with a warm orange hue. Level 1, like all newcomers.

"Can I help you?" Cain asked, setting down his tools.

"I hope so," she replied, her voice carrying a melodic quality unusual among Adventurers. "I'm fascinated by the craftsmanship here. Would you mind explaining how you make these weapons?"

The request surprised him. Most Adventurers cared only for statistics and effectiveness, not the process behind the creation.

"Well," Cain began, uncertainly at first, then with growing enthusiasm, "it begins with selecting the proper metal. For beginners' weapons, we use iron from the eastern mines. More advanced equipment requires steel or other materials not available in Woodhaven."

EmberHeart leaned closer, her attention focused entirely on Cain's explanation. Unlike most Adventurers, who fidgeted or looked around impatiently during dialogue, she remained perfectly still, absorbing every word.

"The forging process requires careful heating," Cain continued, warming to his subject. "Too hot, and the metal becomes brittle. Not hot enough, and it won't shape properly."

"That explains the different qualities of weapons," EmberHeart observed thoughtfully. "It's not just about the materials but the skill of the blacksmith."

Cain nodded, pleased by her insight. "My father says crafting is as much art as science. Each piece carries something of its maker."

For nearly half an hour, EmberHeart asked questions about blacksmithing techniques, the history of the forge, and Cain's apprenticeship. Her interest seemed genuine, her responses thoughtful rather than mechanically progressing through dialogue options.

Eventually, she purchased a slender dagger with a polished wooden handle—one of Cain's own creations rather than his father's.

"Your work is exceptional," she told him with a warm smile. "I'll treasure this."

After she left, Cain found himself glancing toward the door more often than usual. She was unlike any Adventurer he had encountered before—attentive, respectful, treating him as a person rather than a function.

"That one seemed interested in more than just equipment stats," Edric remarked during a lull in customers.

"She wanted to know about the craft," Cain agreed, surprised that his father had noticed.

"Unusual," Edric said simply, returning to his work.

Around midday, Cain ventured to the village square to deliver lunch to his mother—bread, cheese, and dried fruit from their morning meal. The square bustled with activity, new Adventurers surrounding the guides as they learned the basics of their new existence.

He spotted Lydia beneath the old oak tree, demonstrating basic healing techniques to a small group. Among them, the red hair of EmberHeart stood out like a flame against green foliage. She noticed Cain approaching and offered a small wave.

"Here's your lunch, Mother," Cain said, handing over the cloth-wrapped bundle.

"Thank you, my son," Lydia replied with her customary gentle smile. "I was just explaining health restoration to our new arrivals."

"EmberHeart was asking about blacksmithing techniques earlier," Cain mentioned, trying to sound casual.

His mother's eyes twinkled with amusement. "She's been equally curious about healing arts. A thoughtful one, that."

As they spoke, a commotion erupted across the square. A male Adventurer, level 5 according to the number floating above his head, was shouting at one of the merchant. His name—"SlayerKing"—glowed in aggressive red letters.

"What do you mean you don't sell better potions?" he bellowed, his voice carrying across the square. "This entire village is useless!"

The merchant responded with her programmed patience. "I apologize, but our inventory is limited to basic supplies. More advanced items become available in larger settlements beyond Woodhaven."

"Worthless," SlayerKing spat, knocking over a basket of apples with a deliberate swipe of his arm. The fruit rolled across the cobblestones as the merchant stoically began picking them up.

Cain frowned. Such behavior wasn't uncommon, especially from Adventurers who had progressed beyond the absolute beginner stage but hadn't yet learned the social expectations of the world. Still, it always bothered him to see the casual disrespect shown to villagers.

"Some lack basic courtesy," Lydia murmured, shaking her head. "Best to avoid that one."

But SlayerKing, having noticed their attention, was already striding toward them, a malicious grin spreading across his face.

"Well, well, the tutorial healer," he said, looking Lydia up and down with obvious disdain. "I've been wondering something—do village guides have special reactions when they take damage?"

Lydia's expression remained placid, though Cain noticed her hands clasping together more tightly. "Violence against village guides is prohibited within Woodhaven's boundaries. I am here to assist new Adventurers with their questions about health and recovery."

"Standard response," SlayerKing sneered. He drew a short sword from his belt—iron, poorly maintained, likely purchased from Edric's forge days earlier. "But what happens if I ignore that rule? The penalties for harassing natives are minimal."

A chill ran through Cain as he stepped slightly closer to his mother. Something about the Adventurer's red-tinged name and casual cruelty triggered flashes of memory—or were they dreams?—of his mother surrounded by laughing figures, of poison spreading across her skin, of her falling beneath a gleaming blade.

"Please reconsider your actions," Lydia said calmly. "The guards will respond to any threat against villagers."

"The guards are a joke," SlayerKing laughed, raising his sword. "I could kill half the villagers in this village before they even reached me."

As he stepped forward, a blur of red interposed itself between him and Lydia. EmberHeart stood with arms outstretched, her slender form creating a barrier between the aggressive Adventurer and the village guide.

"Stop this," she commanded, her voice still musical but now edged with steel. "What's wrong with you?"

SlayerKing blinked in surprise, then scowled. "Move aside, newbie. This doesn't concern you."

"It concerns anyone with basic decency," EmberHeart retorted. "These are people you're threatening."

"People?" SlayerKing laughed incredulously. "They're Natives. Just code with walking animations. Nothing that happens to them matters—they'll reset with the New Dawn anyway."

"I said move," SlayerKing growled, pressing the tip of his sword against EmberHeart's shoulder. "I want to see what happens when you damage a guide NPC. For research purposes."

"No," EmberHeart stated firmly, not budging an inch despite being five levels below her antagonist. "You'll have to go through me first."

SlayerKing's eyes narrowed. "Fine by me. Killing another player costs more penalty points, but might be worth the entertainment."