A Few Years Later
"Me and Hiccup just turned five."
"I started training a few days back—not muscles, but stamina and flexibility. And when I'm not training, I go to the library to find more information and weaknesses on dragons."
"I didn't slack off these past few years. I've completed minor achievements and some simple quests."
Common Achievements:
"First Words – 10 tickets, 100 points"
"First Steps – 10 tickets, 100 points"
"First Skill – 10 tickets, 100 points"
"First Craft – 10 tickets, 100 points"
Common Quests:
"Upgrade Skill: Identify – 1 ticket, 10 points"
"Make a Weapon – 1 ticket, 10 points"
"Daily Training – 3 tickets, 30 points"
Total: 45 tickets, 430 points
"Though there were no quests or achievements above Common, the harvest wasn't bad."
"I opened my status."
Status
"Age – 5"
"Strength – 3"
"Defense – 2"
"Dexterity – 3"
"Stamina – 4"
"Intelligence – 16"
Skills
"Identify (Lv. 4/50)"
"Crafting (Lv. 2/50)"
Titles
"None"
"Almost all of my stats were higher than the kids my age. It didn't make me feel superior. Just… prepared. Like I was studying for an exam I couldn't afford to fail."
"I was halfway through my routine when I heard shouting. Kids—panicked, winded, too loud to ignore."
"They ran toward me like the sky had fallen."
"Ruffnut, pale and out of breath, was the first to speak. 'Hiccup ran into the forest!'"
"My stomach twisted. 'Explain. Now.'"
"'We were just playing!' she gasped. 'Then Snotlout started teasing Hiccup, calling him names, and—then he brought up... your mom.'"
"The world tilted. My feet stopped moving. My ears buzzed."
"'He mentioned our mom…?' I whispered. Like I needed confirmation to believe it."
"My fists clenched without thinking. Nails digging into my palms. Rage boiled in my chest—raw, ugly, familiar."
"I wanted to scream. Tear something apart. But I swallowed the heat down."
"They're just kids. They don't know any better. They don't know what they're poking at."
"I took a breath, thin and shaking. Then I spoke, my voice hollow but firm. 'Keep explaining. We'll move while you talk.'"
"I broke into a run."
"'Tell the adults,' I barked. 'Let them know what happened!'"
"The forest came into view, dark and indifferent. My legs burned. My lungs begged me to stop."
"Please be okay. Please don't let it be too late."
"Every horrible possibility clawed at my mind. Wolves. Traps. Falling. Getting lost. The silence of it all was worse than screaming."
"Then—"
"A scream cut through the trees."
"I bolted toward it like a lightning strike."
"What I saw stopped my breath."
"A wolf. Lean. Starving. Eyes like knives. Hiccup was cornered, too frozen to scream again."
"I didn't think. I couldn't. My body just moved."
"A notification blinked, but it may as well have been invisible."
"I twisted, dropped low, and drove my heel into its ribs. A solid connection—bone and fur and force. It stumbled."
"'HICCUP, RUN!'"
"Stillness. Then he moved. Thank the gods, he moved."
"But the wolf didn't run. It turned on me."
"It lunged. I raised my arm—too slow. Pain. Fire. Teeth."
"I screamed, not out of fear, but fury. I wouldn't give this thing a victory cry."
"With my free hand, I jabbed for its eye. It shrieked and staggered back."
"'Inventory! Knife!' I screamed inside my mind."
"The weapon fell into my hand like judgment."
"But then—"
"CRACK."
"I looked up and saw Hiccup, branch in hand, face soaked with tears."
"'DON'T HURT MY BROTHER!' he screamed."
"For a second, I forgot the pain. Forgot everything. I saw him—afraid, defiant, shaking—but still standing for me."
"But the wolf didn't care. It turned toward him."
"No. No. No."
"I leapt. We collided midair. Bones. Claws. Dirt."
"Pain blurred everything, but I didn't stop."
"I stabbed it. Again. Again. I didn't even aim. Just movement. Just survival."
"It writhed. I locked my arm around its throat. My injured arm. The agony made me want to black out, but I held tight."
"I could feel it weakening. My mind screamed to stop. But I couldn't. Not until it stopped moving. Not until I was sure."
"'You're not… hurting him… again…'"
"It bucked, one last time."
"Then it died."
"[You have slain a wild beast – Wolf]
+250 XP
Quest Completed: First Kill"
"I barely saw the message. My hands were shaking. My knife trembled like it had a heartbeat of its own."
"Hiccup was safe. That was all that mattered. That should've been enough."
"But I felt sick. Empty."
I killed something.
"I felt its warmth on my hands. The stink of blood. The weight of life taken. It didn't feel heroic. It didn't feel like a victory."
"I looked down at the corpse and wondered:"
"If I had hesitated for even a second... would Hiccup be the one lying here instead?"
"'ERIK!'"
"Voices. Crashing through the woods. Father."
"'Father…' I said, barely."
"My knees gave out. Everything faded."
"When I woke, the world was soft and slow. Light flickered. My arm burned."
"'He's awake!' someone called."
"I turned. Hiccup was there, gripping my hand like it was an anchor."
"'Erik… you saved me.'"
"I gave him a smile that cost more strength than it should've. 'Of course I did, dummy. You're my brother.'"
"Father entered. No words at first—just a weight in the room. Then a hand on my shoulder."
"'You fought a wolf barehanded,' he said."
"I didn't know how to respond."
"'You protected your brother. You protected this village.'"
"I closed my eyes. I didn't feel proud. I felt tired."
"'He would've died if I hadn't… I couldn't let that happen.'"
"He nodded. 'And because of that, you've earned something more than just respect.'"
"A chime echoed softly."
"[Title Gained: Protector – You have defended another with your life. +1 permanent to Defense]
[Skill Gained: Pain Resistance (Lv.1)]"
"[Common Achievement Gained: First Kill - You have killed a wild beast. +10 tickets,+100 points]"
"A new title. I barely cared."
"'Status window—open.'"
Status
"Age – 5"
"Strength – 3"
"Defense – 3 (+1)"
"Dexterity – 3"
"Stamina – 4"
"Intelligence – 16"
Skills
"Identify (Lv. 4/50)"
"Pain Resistance (Lv. 1)"
"Crafting (Lv. 3/50)"
Titles
"Protector ( When defending someone your defence stat is increased by 5)"
"I closed the window."
"'Are you okay?' I asked."
"Hiccup nodded, barely. His eyes were still cloudy."
"'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I shouldn't have run into the woods. I just—I got angry, and when Snotlout said those things… I didn't know what to do.'"
"'You don't have to apologize,' I said, squeezing his hand. 'But next time, punch him in the nose first. Then run.'"
"He laughed—shaky, real."
"The next few days passed in a blur. People visited. Some brought food. Others brought stories. Some just looked at me with a mix of fear and awe."
"A five-year-old who killed a wolf."
"I didn't like the whispers. The stares. The unspoken question behind every look: What else is he capable of?"
"But Hiccup stayed close. Smile more. Slept beside me the first two nights."
"And one night, when he thought I was asleep, he whispered, 'Thank you.'"
"My arm will heal. The pain will fade."
"But the way that moment changed me? That wouldn't go away."
"That wolf wasn't my last kill."
"And next time…"
"I won't hesitate."