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Western Fantasy: Starting With A God-Tier Ranger Mentor

Western Fantasy: Starting With A God-Tier Ranger Mentor

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Chapter 1: Eric has big boots

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Chapter 1: Eric has big boots

This work has started three updates a day; readers can rest assured and follow along, there's plenty to read.

Also, brains can be stored here.

Eric still remembered that before he transmigrated, he also wore shoes that were too big for his feet.

The older generation believed that large shoes could make children grow taller.

In this life, as the only shoemaker's apprentice in the village, Eric also received a pair of super large boots from Old Buck.

The quality of these boots was very good; a knife couldn't even leave a mark on them, as they were made from the thick back hide of an unknown magical beast.

However, when he walked, they always made a "clomp-clomp" sound, which made everyone laugh.

But today, no one in the village laughed at the sound.

Because today, something more interesting was happening in the village.

A Ranger from the Harpers arrived in the village, claiming to be from the Harpers.

"Everyone, please make way, I have something to say to you all."

The village chief led the Ranger into the village.

Eric followed the crowd, looking at this important figure.

The Ranger was tall but appeared thin and frail, with a sword at his waist, dressed in black, a hawk-beak-shaped hood covering his eyes, and a black woolen cloak covering his arms and half of his body.

He stood in the middle of the crowd, like a raven of ill omen.

People surrounded him, chattering, but dared not get close to him.

"The Ranger needs a guide, everyone here is familiar with the paths in the forest, is anyone willing to go?" the village chief shouted.

The people around quickly quieted down.

No one spoke.

Eric understood why.

The Twilight Forest outside the village had been infested with undead for several years, and those who went to investigate never returned.

Among them was Eric's father.

Eric still remembered when his father was alive, he often took him to that forest; he taught Eric how to hunt, how to set traps, and how to distinguish various mushrooms, wild vegetables, and wild fruits.

The parsnips in spring were tender, the fragrant berries in summer were sweet, the rabbits in autumn were fat, and the crystal fruits in winter were icy, yet had a peculiar fragrance.

The wind back then carried the breath of life.

Eric looked at the "Ranger" mentioned by the village chief.

He vaguely sensed that on the "Ranger," there was an aura like the winter crystal fruit; his father had once told him that was the aura of magic.

An extraordinary being…

This Ranger had real ability.

And the Ranger seemed to sense something as well; his eyelids under the hood twitched slightly, and almost instantly, he locked onto his target.

It was a boy with bright eyes, but who looked dirty.

"Is anyone willing to guide the Ranger?" the village chief asked again.

Eric struggled to push through the crowd, raised his hand, and shouted loudly:

"I'm willing, I'll go…"

Eric understood that this was an opportunity.

As long as the Ranger took him out of this village, with the knowledge from his transmigrated mind, he could achieve great things in this world.

As long as he escaped the continuous mountains surrounding this village, escaped the shoemaker boss who beat him, escaped this…

Just then,

A large hand covered Eric's mouth, and another hand not only gripped Eric's wrist but also held him captive in his arms.

"The child is still young, he doesn't know any better."

Old Buck, reeking of alcohol, with his belly protruding, the flesh on his face trembled, and he chuckled, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth.

"Hahaha, you all go about your business, I have something to say to the child."

Eric's legs flailed constantly.

Before the Ranger could speak, Old Buck, holding the struggling Eric, dragged him out of the crowd.

The surrounding villagers quickly gathered, helping to provide cover; in their eyes, although Old Buck didn't pay to adopt Eric, Eric's life already belonged to Old Buck.

The Ranger's gaze shifted slightly, but he didn't rush to speak.

Old Buck dragged Eric back to the shoemaker's shop, closed the large door, and pulled out the leather belt from his waist.

"Whack, whack, whack!"

Three consecutive belt lashes.

"You ungrateful wretch, I raised you for three years, taught you a trade, and all you think about is running away every day…"

The belt kept coming down, and Eric had no other choice but to dodge; his strength was too little to support him in resisting a middle-aged man.

The two of them circled the workbench in the middle, continuously.

After about half an hour, Eric's body was covered in bruises, and Old Buck also seemed a bit tired.

He suddenly lunged forward, grabbed Eric's neck, and pressed Eric to the ground.

He took an iron chain from the workbench and pressed it onto Eric's ankle.

"That Ranger will leave tomorrow, until then, you'll stay in this house…"

Old Buck panted.

The smell of alcohol on his body, after the struggle, permeated the entire room; he wiped the sweat from his forehead, picked up a brick-like black bread from a nearby table, and threw it at Eric's head.

"Remember this, I raised you, you have to support me in my old age."

With that, Old Buck kicked open the door and then slammed it shut with a "bang."

Eric was so beaten that his eyes were blurry, listening to Old Buck's footsteps fade further and further away.

Some transmigrated to become lords, some transmigrated to become hawkmen, some transmigrated and could save witches…

And Eric transmigrated to become a kidnapped child, to become Vanka from the elementary school textbook.

"Leave here, I must leave here."

Hearing Old Buck's footsteps disappear, Eric quickly got up; he picked up a awl used for piercing shoe soles from the workbench.

The lock hole on the iron chain locking his foot was quite large.

Eric felt he had a chance to pry the lock open.

Old Buck was afraid of him contacting the Ranger, so he should all the more go find the Ranger.

Originally, Eric just wanted to try.

But Old Buck's actions, however, inexplicably increased Eric's confidence.

Outside, a light rain gradually began to fall; Old Buck usually went to the village's only tavern and wouldn't return to the shop until the moon rose.

There was plenty of time, but Eric was still anxious.

He dared not be distracted in the slightest.

But the lock was pried at for a long time without any movement, and cold sweat couldn't help but break out on Eric's head.

"Bang!"

The shoemaker's shop door was kicked open again.

Eric suddenly looked up; Old Buck was standing outside the door, holding a wine bottle; he had returned early, afraid Eric would run away.

His gaze was cold, and he instantly locked onto the awl in Eric's hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting familiar with the tools."

Old Buck didn't respond; earlier at the tavern, someone had suggested to him that he might as well chop off one of Eric's feet, so he would never run away again.

Old Buck thought:

This was a great idea.

He held the wine bottle in his hand and picked up an axe from the corner.

Eric watched Old Buck's movements, and a premonition of ill omen suddenly arose in his heart.

"Don't blame me, Eric, I'm doing this for your own good."

"Your father was the village hunter, and you are his child; you always want to go into the forest, adventure is etched into your bones."

"Losing a foot won't stop you from living, but if your life is gone, then there's nothing left."

Eric's eyes widened, cold sweat dripped down his chin onto his coarse cloth clothes.

"Why, when father was alive, he took care of your business quite a bit, and you treat me, treat his child, like this?"

Old Buck took a big gulp of wine, then poured the remaining wine onto the axe.

"I'm saving you, Eric."

Eric said coldly:

"You just want me to work for free."

Old Buck was furious on the spot, spittle flying from his mouth as he spoke:

"Indeed, an ungrateful wolf, an unraisable bastard."

At this moment, Eric no longer had any thought of enduring; losing a leg, in this world with extraordinary powers, was no different from dying.

He raised the awl, his only tool of resistance at hand.

Just as he got up, Old Buck's axe swung towards Eric's leg.

But perhaps the alcohol numbed Old Buck's nerves, or perhaps Eric's taut nerves allowed him to perform some kind of miracle.

While dodging,

Old Buck tripped over a stool at his feet.

As if by fate, the axe struck the iron chain.

"Clang--"

The iron chain snapped, and Old Buck not only twisted his ankle but also injured the tiger's mouth of his hand.

Both of them froze in place.

"Haha, hahahahaha, you can't lock me, the iron chain can't lock me either…"

Eric scrambled and rolled, rushing towards the kicked-open door, bursting out into the rain.

"Goodbye, Old Buck, goodbye, Old Buck."

His big boots still made a "clomp-clomp" sound in the mud.

"Come back, you come back here."

Old Buck's furious roar came from the rain, and the villagers also came out, rushing into the rain, wanting to help catch Eric.

But Eric seemed to have broken through some kind of limit.

The big boots didn't affect his movements at all.

The thick back hide from the magical beast also echoed Eric's will, providing him with some mysterious power.

The boots made a "clomp-clomp" sound as they stepped on the ground.

This tool that Old Buck used to prevent Eric from running was now, in turn, helping Eric pursue freedom.

In this rain, he was like a slippery loach, moving like a dragon among the villagers, no one could touch even the hem of his clothes.

Meanwhile, in the room arranged by the village chief, the Ranger was organizing his equipment.

He planned to go see that child tonight; that child and the man who clearly didn't look like a good person were obviously not a good combination.

Moreover, that child seemed to have some kind of talent.

His life should not be wasted in this narrow village.

Just then, a figure suddenly crashed through the door.

Eric looked at the Ranger in front of him; he wanted to say something, but everything that had just happened seemed to have drained his entire body, and at this moment, he didn't even have the strength to speak.

The Ranger looked at the child who had rushed in front of him:

"What do you…"

Before he could finish speaking, he saw the iron chain on the child's foot and the bruises on his body.

The Ranger's gaze sharpened, and he changed his words:

"Come behind me, you need help."

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