Chapter 13 Frost city delight

Blue sat cross-legged in the moss, watching the 21-man team finish off the last scattered orcs and goblins. Today, she and her group were tackling every available quest the elven fort had to offer. Already, her likability rating with the elves hovered in the high 40s.

It surprised her—not just how efficient Thirian’s AI was (she already knew it was exceptional), but how eager these elves seemed to deepen their relationship with her. The NPCs in Thirian came with quirks, yes, but this felt different. Even last night, they’d been unusually curious—especially toward her.

She chuckled, remembering how freaked out Fireblade had been by the attention. Even now, whenever they picked up a new quest, Fireblade hovered nearby like a suspicious bodyguard, glaring at the guard captain like he’d insulted her lineage. To his credit, the man took it in stride.

Blue’s eyes drifted toward Fireblade, watching the woman direct the team after battle. Clear, focused, and composed—she was a gifted leader. No doubt about it.

And as if sensing Blue’s gaze, Fireblade turned, waved, and began sauntering over—probably to distribute the loot.

Blue’s intercom pinged.

She smiled and answered the call, settling back into the soft, mossy green of the clearing. “Hello, son.”

“Hi, Mom!” came a cheerful, boyish voice that still made her heart ache in the best way. No matter how many times she’d relived life since her regression, that voice always softened her.

“Mom—guess who made it to Falkenhide!”

“No way.” She sat up, surprised.

She’d estimated the first-tier guilds would start reaching the capital tomorrow at best, with second-rate guilds and elite mercenary parties trailing behind. But her teenage son?

“How’d you do it?” she asked, switching to video.

Her son’s bearded avatar grinned up at her from the screen, all pride and mischief. “The NPC—Mr. Hubert—took pity on us. The guilds were being bullies again, so he gave us a token and sent us to the city.”

Blue blinked.

“We’re on a carriage now. It’s just a three-day pass, but if we find apprenticeships in the city, we get to stay!”

Her mood darkened.

“They’re already bullying and trying to monopolize the NPCs?” she muttered.

Frost nodded, making a face. “Yeah, super lame. But forget them. We wanna quest with you, Mom! I promise to carry you!”

Two more heads popped into the frame—Bass and Hammerhead.

“Yeah, Miss Dawson—come quest with us! And buy us food!” they whined, grinning.

She burst into laughter. “Sure, sure. I’d be honored to let you three handsome, strong boys carry little ol’ me.”

Frost groaned, his face red. “Mooom—!”

Bass and Hammerhead were in stitches.

“Complete Mr. Hubert’s quest first,” she said, still chuckling. “Then I’ll meet you.”

Frost nodded. Then paused. “Wait… the old man never told us where his daughter is.”

Blue smirked. “There’s no such thing as a free lunch in Thirian, sweetheart. It’s not supposed to be easy.”

“But lucky for you,” she added, “I already sent you a map I uncovered of the city—check your messages. I marked the address of his shop. I think that’s where she’ll be.”

She blew them a kiss and ended the call.

At the call’s end, she noticed the other woman.

Their eyes met. At moments like these, Blue was never too sure how to interpret Fireblade’s emotions. The young woman would, at times, look at her as if they were in a race—one she was desperate to come ahead in. Other times, her mask held, letting little out… that is, until Blue’s teasing broke her brooding façade, leaving her sheepish and floundering in a way that never failed to amuse the older woman.

Blue’s smile deepened as she took in how the younger woman loomed over her—arms crossed, eyes sharp, the air around her taut with the kind of presence some might’ve found threatening.

Blue let herself relax in the green, forested meadow, comfortable despite the eyes she felt on her.

She just smiled lazily, stretched out her arm, palm open. “Gimme.”

Fireblade scowled, but it was playful. “Why? You didn’t even lift a finger in that fight.”

Blue laughed. “I want you guys to improve. Where we’re headed, the team’s overall strength will be of most importance.”

At this frank reply, Fireblade hummed, thinking.

“So… you think I should hold back too? Let them struggle?”

Blue nodded. “Yeah. What they’d gain from a hard battle—even with a few losses—would be worth more than us swooping in like heroes every time.”

She moved to rise, brushing off her cloak.

Seeing this, Fireblade offered a hand—steady, wordless—and helped her up.

Blue gave her a soft thanks and spoke,

“I’m heading out to quest with my kid. You stay here and keep at it with the team. But don’t carry them—let them fall. Learn. Just… don’t let them wipe.”

Fireblade nodded. Her hand rose hesitantly at first, then firmly, as she ran it through Blue’s chestnut hair.

Under her breath, she muttered how much time the devs must’ve put into even the smallest of details. She laid the flower petal she’d plucked from Blue’s hair into her palm.

Blue took it—eyeing its beautiful, vibrant colors—and smiled.

Then she mounted her steed and rode off toward Falkenhide—leaving the Robin Arrows behind to grow, fail, and rise stronger.

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Meanwhile back in Falkenhide:

Frost opened the door to the quaint, well-hidden shop, shaking his head.

“This place would’ve been impossible to find on our own,” he muttered. Even with the three-day quest window, they might've missed it completely.

Inside, behind a polished wooden counter, sat a young woman reading from a thick tome. She looked up at their entry, blinking in surprise.

“Oh! We don’t usually get guests. Welcome, travelers,” she said with an easy smile. “I’m Sarah Hubert, manager of this abode. If I can be of any help, just let me know.”

A system notification pinged for all three boys:

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

📍 Notice: You have discovered Hubert’s Apothecary.

📜 Notice: You have found Mr. Hubert’s daughter. To complete your quest, deliver her the letter.

Frost grinned, stepping forward and holding out the envelope.

“I’m a good friend of your father’s. He asked me to personally deliver this.”

✅ Quest Complete!

— Reward: +10% XP to all stats

— 3 Silver Coins

— Increased Likeness with Master Alchemist John Hubert and Advanced Alchemist Sarah Hubert

🌟 Reward: Novice Guide to the Arts of Alchemy – Usage: 0/1

Before Frost could even inspect the reward, Sarah groaned and burst out laughing, waving the letter around.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered. “Traveler, did you happen to read this for yourself?”

Frost blinked, caught off guard. “No… I didn’t think we were allowed to,” he admitted sheepishly.

Sarah rolled her eyes and spun the letter around. Bass stepped in and read it aloud, voice full of drama:

> Dear Daughter,

> Your father has run into a fine young man who shows great promise.

> If he finds his way over, this father of yours won’t mind if you make him your husband.

> Love and well wishes,

> Papa Bert.

> P.S. I’ll be joining you in town in a fortnight.

> Love and hugs,

> —Papa

Bass was the first to crack. Laughter burst out of him, followed quickly by Hammerhead. Frost just covered his face with both hands.

“Oh my god. I’m being matchmade. In-game matchmaking, what the hell...”

Sarah grinned mischievously. “No offense to Dad’s taste in men, but you’re not it, traveler.”

All three boys froze. Then gaped.

Frost muttered, “I’m now being rejected. Wow.”

Still chuckling, the trio left the apothecary in high spirits, chatting about the quest reward.

“That book is legit,” Hammerhead said, eyeing the Novice Guide. “Whoever reads it can become an apprentice, right? That means we only need two more.”

“Frost should take it,” Bass added. “He already knows herbs. He’s the obvious pick.”

They stressed it until Frost finally caved.

“Fine, fine,” he said, flipping the cover open. A new notification appeared—only for him:

📘 Notice: You have discovered The Novice Guide to Alchemy.

📖 Upon reading, a written test will commence.

If passed, you will receive an official Order of Apprenticeship, allowing guild registration in the Alchemical Arts.

Frost blinked. “Damn. This game is serious. I’ve gotta study and pass a test?”

He shut the book with a sigh. “Later. First, let’s find Mom.”

“The food smells amazing here,” Bass noted.

“And way pricier than starter towns,” Hammerhead added.

“Then we pester her until she buys us something,” Frost grinned.

With that plan in mind, the boys wandered deeper into the city—laughing, exploring, and hoping to catch up with Blue.

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Blue spotted them first, but the woman chose to wait for them to notice her.

She stood leaning against a sleek stone post, the evening light glinting off the trim of her robes. She looked so at ease, it was hard to believe she was a player and not an NPC ingrained in the ways of life in Thirian—but alas, the player mark above her head was hard to miss.

Finally, Frost saw her. He grinned and waved wildly.

“Mom!”

Blue chuckled at the sound and smiled wide, arms opening as her boy rolled right up to her, followed by Bass and Hammerhead in a full-on sprint to see who could get there first. She pulled all three of them into a hug.

“Boys,” she said, ruffling Frost’s hair. “Took you long enough. Did you get the letter delivered?”

“We did,” Frost said, grinning. “Got a fat XP chunk, silver, and a book for it. And get this—Mr. Hubert apparently tried to sell me off to his daughter. Can you believe it?” he gushed.

Blue laughed. “Ah, matchmaking quests. I guess Hubert really did like you. Then again, as your mom, I’m biased—so I totally get it.”

Bass puffed up proudly. “The lady flat-out rejected him. It was amazing.”

“Ruthless,” Hammerhead added.

“Well then,” Blue said, smirking, “sounds like you’ve earned a meal. Let’s go celebrate your first official city quest.”

She led them into the heart of Falkenhide—past vendor stalls lit by glowing lanterns, sparkling potions, and tall glass windows that revealed magical gear displays and rare artifacts. The city was a fantasy gamer’s dream brought to life.

They stopped outside a wide terrace restaurant glowing with hanging crystals and bubbling fountains. A smartly dressed dwarven NPC strummed something melodic near the entrance.

“Pick whatever you want,” Blue said, waving them in. “It’s on me.”

Bass’s jaw dropped. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

The next few minutes were chaos: the boys ordered far too much food, argued over side dishes, and insisted Frost wasn’t allowed to pick “anything too outlandish” again.

Turns out, in the frontier town, the boy had bought Lightning Delights—candies that, while tasty, occasionally zapped the eater mid-chew.

By the time the platters hit the table, they were stacked with roasted game hen, thick steak strips, glowing honey tarts, and fizzy fruit drinks that changed color with every sip.

Blue didn’t eat much. She just sat back, resting her chin on her hand as she watched them go at it—talking over each other, laughing about some boar they scared off, arguing about who actually triggered the fire snapper trap.

For once, everything felt... easy.

Then Hammerhead’s expression shifted. He blinked at something in his HUD and tapped at the air, fingers still sticky with tart glaze.

Blue noticed instantly. “Something wrong?”

Hammerhead shrugged. “Not really. Just a text. From my brother.”

That got Frost and Bass’s attention. Hammerhead’s brother was a token cool kid—two years older than them—and he generally deemed them all as utter losers. Unless it was something annoying or from their mom, he never texted.

“What’d he want?” Frost asked, still chewing.

“He asked me to send him our gamer tags,” Hammerhead said. “Like... all of us.”

Frost blinked. “Your brother doesn’t even play Thirian.”

“Exactly.”

Bass leaned in. “Wait a sec. Isn’t your brother friends with Lucas Simmons?”

Hammerhead frowned. “Not really, but... back in middle school they shared a class. I think they’re still in touch.”

The three boys went quiet.

Blue’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the sudden shift. “Who’s Lucas Simmons?”

Frost let out a small sigh. “Just... some senior at school. Kinda a jerk. His guild’s in Thirian too. Golden Panthers.”

“He confronted us at lunch,” Hammerhead added. “Nothing major.”

Bass nodded quickly. “Yeah. He heard from someone—” he side-eyed Hammerhead, “—rolling his eyes—that your character might be in Falkenhide. He wanted us to tell him how.”

Hammerhead, sheepish now, mumbled, “Probably to sell the intel. That’s my guess.”

Blue’s face didn’t change, but her fingers gently tapped against her glass.

“I see,” she said, her voice notably darkening.

“But it’s not a big deal,” Frost rushed to say. “He was just acting tough. We handled it. Besides, he doesn’t know our usernames. Probably just fishing.”

“Yeah,” Hammerhead agreed. “My brother doesn’t usually care about games. He probably just got curious. But I say we don’t give him the real ones,” he added with a grin. “Let’s mess with him.”

Blue nodded once but didn’t reply right away. Her mind was clearly working through something.

She didn’t like that a guild player—especially one that knew them in real life—was showing interest in her son. Any wrong move, and that player might get too close.

Eventually, she smiled again—easy, casual.

“Well, if he’s just curious, no harm done. But let’s keep this dinner fun, alright? No more game politics. Let’s enjoy ourselves, yeah?”

All three boys relaxed and got back to their previous banter. By meal’s end, Bass looked at the others fondly and raised his cup.

“To reaching Falkenhide.”

Hammerhead clinked glasses with him. “To Frost’s new NPC wifey.”

The others snickered while the boy in question shook his head and offered his own toast.

“To Mom footing the bill.”

Blue snorted. “To you punks not asking for dessert.”

Their laughter and camaraderie truly made for the icing on a good day in Thirian.

Yet Blue, with her mind racing, watched quietly—already calculating what moves she’d need to make if the guilds started sniffing too close to home.

After they’d eaten their fill—and more—Blue suggested a detour. She led the boys toward the Adventurer’s Guild, their footsteps echoing off the polished stone streets of Falkenhide, the sky overhead streaked in soft twilight gold.

Inside the bustling guildhall, the quest board shimmered with magical parchment. Blue browsed quickly, selecting several low-risk town defense and courier tasks geared toward beginner squads. Then she turned to the boys, voice low but full of purpose.

“Here’s the plan,” she said, tapping one of the notices. “These quests are tied to the city’s militia structure. They’ll raise your standing with the officer who issues them—Captain Chapel. Get his approval rating over thirty percent, and you’ll be able to apply for apprentice knight status.”

Frost’s eyes lit up. This would help them solve their bonus quest to gain citizenship.

Then his smile faded. “But I already have the alchemist one…” he said, slightly disappointed he couldn’t be a knight with his friends.

Blue chuckled. “You can go for both apprentice titles if you want—alchemy and knighthood. It’ll all come down to the time and effort you put in. Your final standing in this game won't be based on combat alone—it’ll be shaped by your choices.”

Frost grinned like she’d handed him a sword made of candy. “Let’s do it.”

The boys dove in—signing up for their first militia assignment, a patrol and delivery route through the city’s merchant sector.

While they hustled around town completing tasks, Blue mostly hung back. She watched them with fond amusement, occasionally calling out encouragement, occasionally slipping away to grab treats—hand pies, candied fruit sticks, skewered meat, and glowing soda bubbles that made your voice squeak for ten seconds.

It wasn’t easy—and not in Blue’s nature—but she forced herself to let go and simply enjoy the afternoon. Today, and for now, there really was nothing she could do about it anyway.

And it wasn’t often she got to do this: just be with her son. Be part of the life he was carving out for himself, both in-game and out.

Sure, he didn’t need her to hold his hand anymore—but he still wanted her there.

So she was.

While Blue bought her son a honey-dipped pretzel and teased him about the quest he and his friends had nearly botched—when the three-headed puppy they were supposed to rescue almost died falling from a tree—a few hours north of Falkenhide’s city bustle, a 21-man team was sharpening blades and calling formation.

Another field boss was about to fall.