From the moment I was chosen by the holy relic

As night fell, a bustling town in the Kingdom of Iser gradually awoke, and the Emerald Cup tavern was already teeming with activity. It was a favorite gathering place for travelers, adventurers, merchants, and bards, the air thick with the aroma of ale, the enticing scent of roasted meat, and the fragrance of exotic spices.

Near the fireplace, several dwarves sat together, a table piled high with gold coins. As they counted them, they deliberately made the coins clink together. "Listen, folks, this bag is all real gold and silver I dug up in the Shadow Mountains!" A dwarf with a full red beard laughed loudly, proudly patting the heavy money bag at his waist, as if afraid that no one around him would hear him.

Their noise wasn't particularly loud here. In the center of the tavern, a heated transaction was taking place around a long table. Several mages, clad in robes, were exchanging magical items. One hooded mage carefully took out a crystal that gleamed with an eerie light: "This isn't just any ordinary stone; it's a Moonshadow Crystal found in the elven ruins."

"Hmph, don't try to fool me." The female mage opposite her sneered, her fingertip tracing the table, and a pale blue rune appeared. "A true Moonshadow Crystal should radiate warmth, but yours only exudes coldness."

On the other side, several elves gathered together, their fingers lightly plucking the strings of a harp, and a melodious and dreamlike tune floated in the air. This harp was called the Silverleaf Harp, crafted from laurel wood and mithril, and its tone was clear and resonant, seemingly able to make one forget the hustle and bustle of the world in an instant.

Several swordsmen were discussing their upcoming expedition. A burly man slammed his fist on the table: "Listen! We need a reliable warrior, someone who can hold the line in battle, not someone who just cowers in the rear when the enemy gets close!"

"Don't worry, Blaine." The man opposite him grinned, revealing neat white teeth. "This time, we'll definitely find the most suitable person."

Amidst the lively atmosphere of the pub, a transaction was taking place at the bar.

"I can't go any lower, Eileen." The tavern owner, a bald but muscular middle-aged man, sighed. "I'm only giving you this friendly price because of our years of friendship."

Eileen shrugged and smiled nonchalantly. "Alright, next time you have something like this, remember to save some for me." With that, she picked up her glass and downed the deep red liquid in one gulp. This wasn't ordinary ale, but rather Iser's unique Dawn Mead, slightly sweet on the palate with a subtle floral aroma, yet with a distinctively potent aftertaste.

Just as she put down her glass, the boss suddenly called out to her, "By the way, Eileen."

"Hmm?" Eileen turned her head and raised an eyebrow at him.

"An expedition is recruiting a warrior, who would be a perfect fit for your friend," the shopkeeper said, wiping his hands and lowering his voice. "He can register here if needed."

Eileen paused for a moment, then a smile appeared on her lips. After a brief hesitation, she picked up a pen and wrote the name on the booklet the boss handed her: Eric Bright.

"Alright, leave him a spot." Eileen put down her pen and gently blew on the ink stains on her fingertips.

The boss nodded in satisfaction and put the booklet away: "You won't regret it; this expedition is a big deal."

Eileen chuckled softly, "I hope so."

She picked up her glass again, raised it, and gently swirled the remaining morning mead in the glass. In the dim light, the liquid shimmered with an amber glow.

The tavern's stables were filled with the scent of hay, mingled with a hint of damp earth. Several newly purchased horses stood quietly in their enclosure, their manes brushed smooth and silky, occasionally flicking their tails with a soft "pat-pat." Eric was engrossed in cleaning the hooves of one of the chestnut warhorses, his movements practiced and gentle, as if he were treating an old friend.

Footsteps approached from afar, and a familiar figure entered the stable.

Eileen crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, quietly watching his busy figure.

Eric didn't look up, but continued with his work, asking in a flat tone, "What good news did you bring me?"

Eileen chuckled softly, gently shaking the small parchment in her hand: "I've signed you up for an expedition; they happen to need a swordsman. Isn't that good news?"

Eric slowly straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, his gaze still fixed on the horse: "And you?"

"They don't lack mages," Eileen said cheerfully. "So, I'll just wait here for you to come back with your money, and also see if there's a suitable team for me."

Eric didn't respond immediately, but instead slowly stroked the horse's mane, his palm sliding down the soft hair little by little, as if he were pondering something. His eyes remained somewhat somber, as if shrouded in some invisible shadow.

Eileen looked at him and sighed softly. She knew, of course, that his heart still belonged to the land of Nosteria. Ever since they escaped the capital and became wanted fugitives, Eric had been despondent. He had been a knight of the kingdom, a guardian of honor, but now he could only survive by working for an expedition.

After a moment of silence, Eileen slowly approached and whispered, "Just survive for now. I've heard that the King of Nosteria grants a general amnesty every five years, and then you can return to your former life."

Eric's hand froze, his fingertips entwined in the horse's mane. In that instant, a glimmer of light seemed to ignite in his eyes, like a flickering flame seen by a traveler in a dark forest. He whirled around, overcome with emotion, and gripped Eileen's hand tightly, his voice brimming with long-dormant passion: "Eileen, you're an angel! You understand me so well!"

Eileen was taken aback, and the next second, a subtle emotion rose from the bottom of her heart. She had never seen Eric with such a radiant expression. Ever since their escape, his face had always been shrouded in gloom, but now, he seemed to have returned to the spirited knight he once was.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she quickly withdrew her hand, turning her head away as if nothing had happened: "Meet at the tavern owner's place tomorrow morning, don't be late."

After saying that, she turned and left, her steps so fast it was as if she were fleeing something.

Eric stood there, stunned, watching her hurried departure, her words still echoing in his ears. He looked down at his palm, as if he could still feel the warmth of Eileen's fingertips.

The horse snorted and flicked its tail, seemingly unconcerned about this subtle emotional fluctuation between humans.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the clouds, illuminating the streets of the town. A cool breeze carried the fresh scent of the distant forest. Eric, sword on his back, arrived at the still-sleepy tavern. The weariness of the previous night seemed to have been completely forgotten, and a long-dormant passion flowed through his veins once more.

The tavern doors were wide open, and a number of people had already gathered inside. A warm fire burned in the fireplace, and the air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and ale.

Guided by the tavern owner, Eric quickly spotted a muscular, middle-aged man with a brown beard in a corner. The man leaned against a table, a glass of ale in hand, occasionally glancing at the tavern's patrons, as if observing a new adventurer. His eyes were sharp, but a faint smile always played on his lips, giving him an air of amiability yet authority.

Eric took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Are you the captain of the expedition team?" he asked directly.

The man put down his glass, sized Eric up for a moment, then nodded, his tone gentle yet scrutinizing: "That's right, I'm Kahn, captain of the Morning Star Expedition. You're the newcomer the tavern owner was talking about?"

Eric nodded slightly: "Eric."

Kahn narrowed his eyes, as if assessing something: "Hmm, you look quite robust, but we don't accept just anyone. How's your swordsmanship?"

Eric's lips twitched slightly. He understood, of course, that the expedition team would never hire just anyone who had no ability.

"I was once a knight of Nosteria," he said calmly, then showed the knight's badge issued by Nosteria.

Kahn's expression changed instantly.

He set down his wine glass, stood up, and the suspicion in his eyes vanished, replaced by a hint of respect. He nodded slightly, seemingly without any further hesitation: "You were once a knight of Nosteria? Then you must be a master swordsman."

Eric didn't say much, he just nodded slightly.

Kahn smiled slightly and extended his hand: "Very good, welcome to Morning Star."

Eric grasped his hand, feeling the thick, hard palm that had seen countless battles, carrying a seasoned and steady strength.

"Come on, let me introduce the rest of the team." Kahn turned around and gestured for Eric to follow.

They walked to a long table where several adventurers were sitting. Two of them were talking in hushed tones, while the other two were polishing their weapons.

"This is our team's mage, Reg," Kahn said, pointing to a man in a blue robe. Reg was about thirty years old, tall and slender, with neatly tied black hair, a high nose, and intelligent eyes. Hearing the introduction, he smiled slightly: "Welcome, Eric."

"This is our deputy leader, Roy," Kahn continued. Roy was a young man in his early twenties, with messy golden-brown hair and skin tanned slightly from long hours in the wild. A finely crafted longbow was slung across his back. He grinned, revealing a casual expression: "Hello, Eric."

Eric nodded and looked at the next person.

"This is Targ, our team's dwarf warrior," Kahn patted a dwarf on the shoulder. Targ had a thick beard, a short and stocky build, and eyes that held the characteristic tenacity and pride of dwarves. He was examining the blade of a battle axe when he heard the introduction, and looked up with a grin, "Hey, I hope you're as formidable as the legendary knights, otherwise I won't be taking a blow for you."

Eric smiled and said, "You can give it a try."

Targ laughed heartily, clearly pleased with Eric's response.

Finally, Kahn pointed to a petite figure. It was a young human woman with smooth, short brown hair, slightly flushed cheeks, and a head bowed as if she were nervously clutching a small green staff.

"This is Lia Lortheran, our mage," Kahn introduced gently.

Lia whispered, "Hello..." Her voice was barely audible. She immediately blushed and hid behind Kahn, only revealing a pair of curious yet somewhat timid eyes.

Eric noticed the green staff in her hand, a magical artifact specifically used for casting support magic. He smiled slightly, trying to keep his tone relaxed: "It's a pleasure to meet you, Leah."

Lia nodded slightly, but still did not come out from behind Kahn.

"Alright, that concludes the introductions." Kahn clapped his hands with a smile. "Everyone, get ready to go."

Just then, the door was pushed open, and a familiar figure walked in.

Eileen walked up to Eric, holding several small glass bottles filled with liquid. She gently shook them. "I brought you something especially."

Eric recognized the potions immediately; they were the healing potions she had given herself during the prison break.

He silently accepted the medicine, carefully placed it in his backpack, then looked up at Eileen and whispered, "Thank you."

Eileen said casually, "Just remember not to die carelessly."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on dying." Eric smiled slightly.

Eileen looked at him, a fleeting, almost imperceptible emotion flashing in her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure. She turned and left, tossing him a parting word: "Be careful."

Eric watched her retreating figure, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside him.

Kahn patted him on the shoulder: "Alright, let's get going."

Eric took a deep breath, mounted his horse, and followed the group out of the tavern, embarking on an unknown journey.