Chapter 1: The Farmer’s Child

**Disclaimer** I am not the owner of these novel I'm just sharing it cause its good here so please don't rose me😚😘

“Did you hear? A horse crashed into Moore’s kid.”

“Poor child. He’s only thirteen, isn’t he? I think he’s bedridden for life.”　　

“That’s old news. Roy’s woken up, but something’s wrong with his head. He keeps spacing out in the yard.”

The farmers on the field whispered about the tragedy that befell a boy named Roy. A burly man behind them quietly put his hoe down and clenched his fists. He was infuriated, frustrated, but also helpless.

The man was Moore, the one the farmers were talking about, and also Roy’s father. He was just a lowly peasant like everyone else, and he had toiled on the fields for half his life. He wasn’t handsome, capable, or rich. Nobody had wanted to marry him, until his wife had come along and done so despite his flaws. He was twenty-three then.

The couple had a child when they were twenty-five. In their time and age, most people were already parents when they were sixteen. Having a child at twenty-five meant they were behind their peers. They cared about Roy tremendously, and worried he might get hurt. Because of that, he seldom worked in the fields.

Roy was a quiet one. He listened to his parents, kept to himself, and always had a sheepish smile on his face. He was a stark contrast to the wild children who stampeded the village every chance they could.

“Roy’s a good child. Such a pity…”

The thought of Roy’s condition tore into Moore’s wound further. They’d thought they would live a happy and peaceful life with their son forever, but alas, it was cut short. Four days ago, a woman blazed through the village on horseback, and Roy was in her way. The horse only grazed him, but that single graze took him out.

The village’s unskilled herbalist failed to find out what was wrong with Roy, and he thought the boy was done for. The next day though, as if by miracle, Roy woke up. However, he was a changed boy. His eyes were dead, and he was quiet, not answering when spoken to. All he did was stare into the sky like a person who had lost their mind.

Moore sighed. It was getting late, and he picked up his hoe before going back home. He was still worried about his son.

The villagers’ houses were primitive and ugly, made out of thatch and wood. A single gale could have blown the rickety buildings away. Kaer was a small village, housing about a hundred families.

Moore’s house was situated on the western side of the village. It was high noon when Moore came back, and the sun glared at them without any mercy. Despite that, a young child stared back into the sun, eyes unblinking, as if he were a soulless puppet. Beside him stood a plain, rough-skinned village lady who was feeding the chickens.

“Why is he staring into the sun? What if he hurts his eyes? Susie! I thought I told you to keep an eye on him. Don’t you know this is bad for him?”

Moore rushed into his yard and waded through the overgrown weed to pick up his son. He placed Roy before the front door and patted his buzz cut-trimmed hair. 

A hint of tenderness blossomed on Moore’s dry, yellowed face. “Never do that again, Roy. Okay?”

Roy wouldn’t respond to anyone or anything after waking up a while ago, but when Moore called him again, something flickered within him, and his eyes started clearing up. “Huh? Dad? Luo Yi… No, Roy,” he mumbled. “Right. My name is now Roy.”

“D-Did you just talk, Roy?” Surprised, Moore huddled closer to Roy, intending to confirm he was talking. Finally, he got his answer. His son, who had been quiet for the past three days, had started to speak again. At least he didn’t turn mute.

“Come here, Susie! Leave the animals alone! Roy just talked!” Moore shouted, and Susie came a moment later, obviously in a hurry.

The couple hugged Roy, and when he called out their names, tears streamed down their faces. Roy looked at his parents, Moore and Susie, closely. They weren’t exactly good looking, but they weren’t ugly either. Their clothes were made out of hemp, and they looked worn out. Their skin was rough, and they looked gaunt from overworking. They had the feel of two innocent, welcoming villagers.

“So they’re my parents.” Tears welled up in Roy’s eyes, and something tugged at his heartstrings. He hugged his parents back.

At the same time, two different sets of memories fused within him. Before Roy, he was Luo Yi, a high school dropout in C Nation. At the same time, Roy was living in Kaer, a village in Lower Posada, the southern border of a nation called Aedirn

Luo Yi’s parents died in a freak accident, and he quit school after their deaths. He was a shut-in who became addicted to the world of games. Once he would use up all the compensation fees, Luo Yi would kill himself. He had no parents, no car, no money, and was a game addict. That was effectively a death sentence in his original society.

On the other hand, Roy might’ve only been the child of lowly, impoverished peasants, but his parents loved him. Luo Yi longed for that kind of relationship.

“I got addicted to games just so I could fill the void in my heart. And now I have a second chance to do so. The gods are smiling on me.” Luo Yi inherited all of Roy’s feelings and memories, which made him feel close to Moore and Susie.

“What happened to you, Roy?” Susie asked. “You scared us!”

“T-The horse shocked me. All I could remember was how afraid I was. I don’t know what happened.”

“Stop with the questions!” Moore roared at his wife. “All that matters is that Roy is okay. That’s all that matters.” He patted Roy’s head lovingly.

After calming his worried parents down, Roy looked around his new abode, and a bitter smile painted on his face. The walls were uneven and rickety, the house only having a fireplace, a steel cauldron, a few tables and chairs, and two sets of beds ⁠— if anyone could call a stack of hay covered by pieces of worn out cloth a bed.

Lunch was made in a short while. A few dry, hard, disfigured loaves of bread, an egg, two dried fish, and a bowl of assorted vegetable soup were laid out before him. The food was plain enough, and there was no seasoning. Salt was a luxury in the household.

Roy thought the food was weird, but despite it, he took a bite. “Don’t complain, Roy. You didn’t get to eat organic greens like this in your past life.”

Because of his body’s instincts, Roy accepted the food’s taste not long after he took his first bite. Famished after days of not eating, his hunger prompted him to wolf down the food. A short while later, the scarce meal became scarcer.

“Slow down, son. You don’t want to choke on the food.”

The couple stared at their son with a grin. They kept piling the food in his plate, but they didn’t touch the food themselves, though they’d pop some dried fish into their mouths once in a while.

Moore and Susie left the house in the afternoon after deciding they would butcher a chicken for Roy that night. And then Roy’s expression turned serious.

Aedirn. How familiar. Roy used to play “The Witcher 3” for many hours, and the name “Aedirn” was no stranger to him. It was one of The Four Kingdoms. This was a world of witchers and monsters. Bandits, monsters, plagues, and disasters were commonplace in the world and era Roy was in. Humans struggled to stay alive, clawing at the chance to live for even a day longer.

If I have no power, I could die at any time. 

According to Roy’s original memories, he was in the year 1260. If the lore was right, the talented king of Nilfgaard, the White Flame, Emhyr var Emreis, would launch the first Northern War in three years. Even though the war would start in Cintra ⁠— a faraway nation in the west of Lower Posada ⁠— the soldiers might escape to their region, and chaos would follow.

And in seven years, in 1267, the second Northern War would swing into motion, and Aedirn would not survive it.

Do I have any power? What should I do? I must at least keep Moore and Susie safe. Even though he was only thirteen, Roy didn’t have much time on his hands if he wanted to save his parents. Fortunately, he didn’t cross into this world without anything to help him. Like many otherworlders, he had his own cheat to help him on his quest.

Chapter 2: Cheat

**Disclaimer** I am not the owner of these novel I'm just sharing it cause its good here so please don't rose me😚😘

Open my character sheet, Roy thought, and a slew of weird messages flooded his mind.

‘Character Sheet:

Roy

Age: Thirteen years and seven months old

Gender: Male (This detail will not be shown in the future)

Status: Civilian

(You are the child of a farmer. Up until now, you have received no professional training, nor have you studied in any field. You have not mastered any skills yet, and your talent is still hidden.)

HP: 40 (Healthy)

Strength: 4 (5). Strength decides the attack power of some physical attacks. Increases the weight you can carry, enabling you to wear heavier but stronger protective gear, as well as using heavier weapons. Affects your endurance to an extent.

Dexterity: 5 (5). Dexterity decides your movement speed, attack speed, reflexes, and balance. High dexterity enables you to dodge, react to, and block attacks. Also allows you to perform difficult movements.

Constitution: 4 (5). As a base for your endurance, constitution decides how many hits you can take, your run speed, and your battle prowess. Affects life regeneration to an extent.

Perception: 5 (5). Perception includes your five senses. You have a chance to predict incoming danger, as well as increase your efficiency in assessing your surroundings. Perception increases your chances of finding buried treasure. Someone with higher perception also has a better chance of sensing incoming danger. They can notice the secrets hidden in the void as well.

Will: 4 (5). Will decides your resistance against mental attacks and your recovery speed from psychological debuffs, such as pain and sadness. The higher your will, the calmer you can stay in dangerous situations, leading to a perfect execution of your movements. If your will is great enough, you will be able to affect physical objects.

Charisma: 5 (5). Your looks, aura, and speech skills factor into deciding your charisma. Charisma plays a role in communicating with the same species. High charisma can win someone’s affection easily, and those from your species will be invariably drawn to you.

Spirit: 6 (5). Spirit decides the level of your concentration, making you focus on the task ahead of you. Can also increase your absorption rate, amount of acceptance, and control over the four elements, which is also known as chaos energy. Affects the strength of spells and pseudo spells.

PR/N: From what we’ve understood, (5) refers to a healthy adult. So 4 (5) means slightly below a healthy adult, 5 (5) means the same level as a healthy adult, and 6 (5) means better than a healthy adult.

Skill: None

Inventory space: 1 cubic meter

Misc.: Unknown

EXP: 1/100 (Once the EXP bar is filled out, you may level up. Each level shall grant you one attribute point and one skill point.)’

The character sheet was Roy’s cheat in this world. Thanks to it, he stayed under the sun for three days, for absorbing its energy would help him clear his confused state. At the same time, he gained one EXP from staying under the sun.

“So the sun gives me 0.33 EXP per day. In that case, staying under it for 333 days would fill my EXP bar and level me up.” Roy calmed down. Staying under the sun to level up was a stupid idea, but it was the safest way to do so.

Hm, if the sun can grant me EXP, can the food here do the same? That was a nice idea, but unfeasible in reality. Roy only had enough food to stave off starvation and keep him healthy. The energy in it wasn’t enough to be converted into EXP. “So if I want to increase my stats, I’ll have to find a way to earn some crowns and fill my belly.”

A/N: Crowns are the currency of the game. The only currency in the northern kingdoms are Temeria orens, alternatively known as orens, while Aedirn’s currencies are ducats and marks. That’d make the exchange rate too confusing, so from now on, we’ll be using crowns and orens. The exchange rate for the currency is one to one.

If he could make enough crowns, Roy could even hire mercenaries or reputable witchers to escort his parents as they left for the city of freedom, Novigrad, located in Redania, which was northwest of their village. Redania was involved in the Northern Wars, but the nation wasn’t affected. At least the civilians could live their lives out there in peace.

“Money aside, I have to see if there’s any other way to gain EXP.”

Considering the game and Roy’s experience with it, killing monsters would be the most likely way to gain EXP, and the world of “The Witcher” was filled with all kinds of creatures. If he were to wander around in the wilderness beyond the village or rivers around it, he might just bump into a drowner if he was unlucky.

Roy was just a frail, feeble boy who had no combat prowess. If he were to go out and hunt, he’d be torn to pieces by the dogs and wolves on the way. Then he’d have died for nothing.

Obviously, he couldn’t respawn in this world, unlike in the game. “I have to be careful. Legends start from the unlikeliest of places. I should start with a smaller creature.”

He went into the yard and threw a glance at the big, white goat that stood out from the rest of the animals. No. That goat can provide milk, and it’s too big for me to handle. He gave up on killing the goat, and a few roosters leaped happily in front of him. Roy gritted his teeth and went back in to grab a knife. “Dad’s going to kill one tonight for me anyway. Why don’t I do it myself?”

Roy set his murderous gaze on a big, fat, grey rooster. Noticing the impending danger, the rooster crowed shrilly and leaped around the coop, trying to escape murder.

If anyone were to pass by, they’d come across a hilarious scene: a scrawny young man chasing after a majestic grey rooster. The creature continued cawing and running for his life, while the boy wouldn’t stop pursuing it.

Roy kept falling and getting up, unwilling to give up. When he was already drenched in sweat, and his legs turned to jelly, he finally caught the rooster’s wings. Roy held the knife under its neck, but he didn’t make the kill.

“I haven’t even killed anything up until now. Not even a chicken. Didn’t expect my first kill in life to be a big, stupid rooster.”

That reminded him of the legendary witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Geralt had many titles, some of which included “The White Wolf”, “The Butcher of Blaviken”, and “The Giant Slayer”. Roy thought those titles were cool and menacing.

“Nobody can know of this. What if I become a legend someday, and the bard calls me “The Rooster Slayer”? That’d be dumb.”

That thought made Roy pick up the pace. He made a clumsy slash across the rooster’s neck, and blood spurted into the sky. Some of it even splashed onto his face.

At the same time, the rooster extended its claws and crowed for the final time in its life. A short while later, it lay on the ground, convulsing and taking its last breath as Roy grinned.

2/100! It worked! “I knew it! This works!”

He was glad that nobody saw him kill the rooster, but then a panicked scream reached him, “By the gods! R-Roy the fool’s possessed by a monster! He killed his family’s chicken!” A snotty, eight-year-old brat had a horrified expression on his face as he shouted out the “murder” of the rooster. Roy swore the whole village could have heard his scream. He was just like the screaming groundhog meme Roy saw in his past life.

The boy’s appearance made Roy’s eyes shine, and he was obviously not concerned with the accusation the boy made. That boy’s Brandon, the son of the butcher.

As the official butcher for a backwater village like Kaer, every villager had to ask for his help whenever they needed to slaughter their livestock. “If I manage to become the butcher’s apprentice, I’d have loads of EXP to gain.”

Chapter 3: Butcher

The village’s streets were uneven, rugged, and trodden, with puddles of water that could be seen all across them, glimmering under the sun. A young man and child were going toward Fletcher the butcher’s house on the northern side of the village.

If Roy remembered correctly, Fletcher was Susie’s distant relative, and they’d visit each other occasionally. Maybe this can work.

“Hah! Look at you, Rooster Slayer. You’re scrawny and weak. Even a bat’s larger than you. You want to be my father’s apprentice? Go home and stare at the sun like you always do,” Brandon derided, sucking the snot that was drooling down to his lip.

Roy trailed behind Brandon. The boy was barely four feet tall, while Roy was about five feet, four inches. As he looked down at Brandon’s bob cut, Roy pressed down on the strands of hair that stood out to flatten them down. Before Brandon could look back, Roy pulled his hand away.

PR/N: Four feet is around 1.22 meters. Five feet, four inches is around 1.63 meters.

Well, that’s the spot.

He was an eighteen-year-old man in his past life, so Roy thought there was no need to argue with a brat. He shrugged, looking nonchalant. “I’m already thirteen. So what if I killed a chicken? Only bumpkin brats like you would get scared. Rooster Slayer? That’s a dumb name. Where did you come up with it? In dummy land?”

“You’re a fool who can’t even toil the field, and yet you can kill a chicken? Obviously, you’re possessed by a demon, so I’ll have to keep monitoring you closely. Wait, did you just call me a bumpkin?” Brandon wiped the snot off his lips with his fat, dirty hands, before wiping his fingers on his clean shirt.

Brandon’s financial standing was better than most families in the village, thanks to him being the butcher’s son. He never starved, and his clothes were always clean. Even though he was a young child, his peers were nothing but his sycophants. Because of that, he had a superiority complex since he was young, and he tolerated no insult toward his person.

“Hey, bumpkin! My father saw Queen Meve of Lyria and Rivia at the winter solstice festival. and he told me about that grand event every night! You’ve never even stepped out of this village, and you call me a bumpkin?”

“Oh, so you’re saying that Uncle Fletcher brags to you every night, huh? Has he ever told you about magic tricks then?” Roy observed Brandon’s expression calmly. When he heard about magic tricks, Brandon’s eyes shone, and they filled with longing and admiration as he blabbered about it. 

Roy was relieved to see Brandon’s interest in tricks. He stopped in his tracks and puffed out his chest. “If you can convince Uncle Fletcher to take me as his apprentice, then I, the great Roy, will show you one magical trick.”

“Yeah, tell that to Don Quixote’s kid, maybe that’ll work. I won’t be… fooled?” Brandon choked on his words, and his jaw dropped to the point someone could put an egg in his mouth. His eyes widened, and his snot drooled down uncontrollably.

“H-How did you do it?” Right before his very eyes, under the glaring sun, the pebble in Roy’s right hand had disappeared without a trace, as if it had moved away before anyone realized it.

When Roy clenched his fist and opened it again, the pebble appeared out of thin air. “See that? That’s the trick I told you about.” Roy was satisfied with the reaction he got from Brandon. The secret to that trick was Roy’s inventory space. The pebble was transported there, and all Roy had to do was think about it to make it reappear.

“I don’t believe you! Do it again!”

“Let’s do it with a different item this time. Do you have any money?” Roy asked.

“Sure I do.” Brandon would smuggle money from his father sometimes to treat his buddies to some dried fruit and fruit wine in the inn.

“I’ll need one crown to do this. If you can kindly give it to me.”

Piqued by his curiosity, Brandon fell for Roy’s ruse. He took out a yellow coin — a crown —  and gave it to Roy. He then craned his neck to see the trick. Roy closed his palm and turned his hand down, and when he turned it back up, the crown had disappeared into thin air.

“I stayed at home all the time to learn this trick. Now that I’ve mastered it, I think I should show it to you guys.”

Brandon, still skeptical, searched Roy, but he found no place where Roy could have hidden the crown. Left with no excuses, he agreed to Roy’s deal.

“Right. You teach me this trick, and I’ll ask my dad to take you as his apprentice. This is a good deal.”

“Oh, and one more thing you need to know.” Since Brandon didn’t ask for his money back, Roy kept it for himself. “Don’t ever call me Rooster Slayer, and don’t tell anyone about it.”

***

In the butcher’s house stood a pudgy middle-aged man who was caressing a cow hung upside down by the limbs on a butchering rack. As he was about to slaughter it, the butcher noticed Roy and Brandon coming in. He ignored Roy and roared angrily at his fat son. “Where’d you go again, you brat? You missed the chief’s classes for half a month this time! Do you think money grows on trees? If you keep on being illiterate, you can forget about being a bard! Be a butcher like me!”

Brandon stared down and blushed after his father exposed his dream. He was a butcher’s son, but his dream was to become a bard who traveled the world and told various stories to people he met along the way. If anyone knew about it, they’d laugh their socks off.

There were only three villagers in Kaer who knew how to read and write, including the chief. Most of the villagers would have to pay if they wanted to write to their relatives. Even though Fletcher was a mere brute, he didn’t want his son to be illiterate.

“If you can get the chief’s praise, I’ll get Tom to take you to Vengerberg, Brandon! If you can learn everything from him, I’ll get you to Oxenfurt University even if it bankrupts me! Your mother wanted you to go before she passed away. Don’t disappoint her!”

Roy didn’t think much about it when he heard about Brandon wanting to be a bard, but he was surprised after hearing what Fletcher said. This guy has a big dream.

Being a butcher was a lucrative job, but educated people enjoyed better status in the world. Someone who could read and write the common speech of the northern kingdoms could live a great life in any village. If they were lucky enough to be a scribe in a city, they could garner great respect. If they managed to get into a university, they’d be almost revered.

The university Fletcher mentioned, Oxenfurt, was one of the best universities in the world, and only the Nilfgaardian Imperial Academy was on par with it. Geralt’s best friends, Jaskier and Shani, were graduates of Oxenfurt.

You can’t underestimate villagers, huh?

Roy looked at Fletcher, then at Brandon.

Fletcher was still yelling at his son and ignoring Roy. “Get into the house, you brat!”

Brandon gave a pleading look at Roy, and Roy went up to Fletcher. “Uncle Fletcher, I’m — ”

The butcher waved him down impatiently and interjected. “You’re all healed up, aren’t you, Roy? Take some meat with you later when you go back. Susie’s worried sick about you, so spend some time with her.”

Brandon, still wanting to learn the magic trick, croaked despite his fear, “Fletcher, he wants to be your apprentice.”

“Him?” Fletcher glanced at Roy. “I am looking for an apprentice, but you’ve never even toiled in the fields. Susie won’t let you. Also, you’re frail and feeble. How long will it take for you to process one animal? Half a day? No, you can’t be my apprentice. Just go away,” Fletcher said honestly.

Being a butcher might’ve been exhausting and dirty, but everyone wanted to do it. As long as they had the skill, they could earn many crowns and luxury. Fletcher wanted Brandon to inherit the business — for it would set him up for life — but since Brandon could learn common speech, Fletcher didn’t force him into it. Brandon had a better future anyway.

Since Roy was frail, most of the ways to gain EXP were dangerous for him. He needed a safe, stable source of EXP, so a little hurdle wouldn’t stop him. He cracked his fingers and put on a serious look. “Give me a chance to explain, Uncle Fletcher.”

He nodded.

“I’ve talked this through with my parents, so I’m calling the shots here.” Roy paused. “You said a tough body is essential for a butcher, and you’re right, but more than that, a great butcher must be skilful and experienced. I think that can be attained if I put in enough work. I know you can cut up all the livestock perfectly even with your eyes closed, because you’re experienced.

“I might be frail now, but I’m young, energetic, and still growing. Also, I can learn fast. If you’re willing to teach me, I won’t let you down, I promise.” Roy gritted his teeth and made another offer. “If I can’t work well in my apprenticeship, I’ll work for free. All I need is some occasional meat.”

After hearing the offer, the butcher grinned. “You’ve changed, Roy. You used to be really quiet, but now you’re a glib tongue. Looks like I have to take you in then. Right, I’ll give you a chance for Susie’s sake. Can you make the kill?” He moved away, revealing the cow behind him.

“If you can kill this big old cow here and keep your barf down, I’ll take you as my apprentice.”

He thought Roy wouldn’t make the kill, for a young man like him had never seen blood. However, the soul inhabiting this body lived in a time where information was free, and gore was abundant. Roy, or to be more precise, Luo Yi, had seen worse than a cow’s butcher.

Roy took the butcher’s knife from Fletcher calmly before going up to the hanging cow. He then turned back and said sincerely, “Uncle Fletcher, to be honest, I had a long dream after the horse crashed into me, and I’ve decided to change myself after I woke up. I’m just a villager who knows nothing about toiling in the fields, but I have to learn something to support myself and the family. Moore and Susie’s been taking care of me for a long time now. It’s time I pay my dues.”

A deafening silence befell the butcher’s home. All the color drained from Brandon’s face, and he held his breath. He might’ve been the butcher’s son, but he’d never killed anything. Every time Fletcher worked, he would stay far, far away and cover his ears. The frail Roy, who was holding the gleaming butcher’s knife, looked so familiar, yet so alien to him.

Roy’s not the timid guy he used to be, Brandon thought.

Surprise flared on Fletcher’s glistening face. Did Roy just grow up? He’s already working for his family. Then he glanced at the snotty brat who was his son.

Should I get a horse to crash into this brat? That seems like how someone would grow as a person.

“Roy, there should be a bulge around the cow’s neck. I just found it earlier. Use the knife and stab into that. If you do it right, the cow should die peacefully.”

The moment Fletcher said that, Roy squinted. He thought back at how he killed the chicken, and grasped the feeling he’d had when he’d slit its throat.

Roy made a calm swing, and the knife made a clean, fierce stab. Roy pierced the cow’s neck and pulled the knife out in a moment. The animal stared at him, wide-eyed, for the final time in its life. Tears streamed down its face, and it mooed weakly before taking its last breath without any struggle.

At the same time, Roy’s character sheet showed he had seven EXP. Obviously, killing the cow granted him five EXP.

It was his second kill, but he didn’t retch, nor did he buzz with excitement.

Killing a cow was different from killing a chicken. Instead of being elated about getting the experience, Roy felt sad, and also scared.

Why do I gain EXP from killing? How does it work anyway? How many EXP can I gain if I kill a human? Are living beings nothing but EXP for my character sheet? And how does it dictate the amount of EXP I gain for the kill I make? The size? Or the life force? Or the creature’s soul? Or… something else? Countless questions popped into his mind, and he must kill to find the answer to those questions. He stood before the dead cow, stunned, and blood dripped from his knife.

At the same time, Fletcher let out a hearty laugh and smacked his shoulder. The impact from that smack snapped Roy out of his trance. “Nice kill! Didn’t expect you to be this gutsy. Say, did you get braver after almost being crushed by the horse? Either way, you made the cut. If you don’t mind getting yourself dirty and exhausted, come here before dawn tomorrow. Make it through, and you’ll be getting some meat. Some crowns too, if you’re exceptional.”

Fletcher was getting on in age. His son spent all his time learning common speech and refused to inherit the business. The butcher desperately needed a helper. Roy might’ve been frail, but Fletcher had watched over him over the years. Roy was an honest boy who knew how to give back. Because of Susie, he was also Roy’s uncle, so Fletcher didn’t mind teaching him the skill.

Roy snapped out of his sadness, and resolve stirred within him. “I’ll be here on time, Uncle Fletcher.” I can barely feed myself, and an unknown danger is approaching. I can’t feel sorry for a cow when I have to kill more creatures. That’d make me a hypocrite, he mocked himself. Then Roy stopped feeling sorry and gripped the knife tightly.