Chereads / Divine God System / Chapter 15 - That’s it?

Chapter 15 - That’s it?

Once Alex made it back to the kitchen, he saw Ruth and Hugh bustling about, preparing breakfast for the three of them. Ruth was at the stove making eggs, while Hugh handled the bacon and toast. The familiar smells helped ease the tension that had been building in Alex's mind since the conversation with Lady Mane earlier. When Ruth finished with the eggs, she turned to Alex and asked him to set the table in the kitchen, handing him plates and utensils.

"Sure thing," Alex replied, feeling more relaxed now in the company of Ruth and Hugh. He quickly set up the table, arranging everything neatly. Once all was ready, Ruth sat down beside Alex, while Hugh stood across from them, wiping his face with a towel and giving Alex a sly grin, setting the tone for the morning.

Ruth, always direct, broke the silence. "Has Lady Mane said anything about how responsibilities will be handled now that the staff cutbacks have happened?" she asked Hugh.

Hugh, leaning against the counter and wiping his hands, nodded. "Yeah, she did. Since there's not much left to do besides cooking and cleaning, Lady Mane split the tasks between us. We'll handle breakfast together, as we're doing now. Ruth, you'll take care of lunch, and I'll handle dinner. Alex and Rebecca will share cleaning duties around the mansion. As for stocking the kitchen and maintaining supplies, that'll be you and Bartlow's responsibility, Ruth."

Alex and Ruth nodded in understanding, absorbing the changes to their routine. Hugh continued, his attention now on Alex. "Your shift is from morning until lunch, so after that, you're free to train and cultivate with Bartlow. Ruth, after lunch, you'll have free time as well, but you both need to stay within the estate until the weekend. You'll have Saturday and Sunday off, while Rebecca and I take Monday and Friday off. So," Hugh added, turning to Alex with a serious look, "try not to get into too much trouble on Fridays. You know, our healer will have the day off, and if something happens, she may not be available to patch you up."

Ruth, sensing Alex's unease at the idea of going without medical help, chimed in. "Don't worry, Alex. I've been training with Rebecca, and I can step in on Fridays if needed. She's been mentoring me in healing, so I'm sure I can handle it."

Hugh nodded in approval at Ruth's suggestion. "That's a good idea, Ruth. I'll run it by Lady Mane and Rebecca, but I don't see any problem with it."

Alex, feeling a bit more reassured, was also surprised by how much free time they seemed to have. "Is that really all there is to do around the estate?" he asked.

Hugh let out a hearty laugh. "Kid, you're the last one who should be talking about free time," he chuckled. "You'll be training with Bartlow every day. And even when you're not with him, you'll be training yourself, right? That's your goal, after all. As for the rest of us, we're sharing the load. We've been doing it this way for a while now, even before the cuts. It keeps things fair."

Alex, now feeling more motivated, asked, "Can I head to the courtyard to start training once we're done eating? I want to get started before Bartlow meets me this afternoon."

Hugh, shaking his head in amusement, said, "Go on, then. Get yourself ready. Just don't push too hard before Bartlow gets his hands on you." He gave Alex a knowing grin, as if to suggest that the real challenge would start later.

But before Alex could leave, Ruth gently grabbed his hand. "I'll take care of the dishes," she said. "When I'm done with lunch, I'll bring your plate and Bartlow's to the courtyard. You'll need the break. After that, I'll head to the infirmary to train with Miss Rebecca. When you're finishing up with Bartlow, I'll bring dinner out to you both and help you back to your room if needed. If you're hurt, I can take you to Rebecca for healing. Yesterday was just the beginning. I'm sure Bartlow is going to push you even harder today to see how much you can take."

Alex, puzzled by Ruth's last comment, asked, "What do you mean by 'break me'?"

Ruth and Hugh exchanged a glance, both of them stifling their laughter. Hugh shook his head, chuckling. "You'll find out soon enough," he said with a wink. Ruth smiled warmly, trying to reassure him, but it was clear they knew something Alex didn't.

Despite the ominous undertone, Alex appreciated their care and support. He could get used to this life—training hard, having friends who helped him along the way, and a goal that seemed closer with every passing day. With a nod of thanks, he headed toward the courtyard, his mind already focused on the training to come.

As Alex made his way back to his room to change into his training uniform, he was stopped by Bartlow, who stood waiting by his door. Alex, puzzled by his master's sudden appearance, greeted him with a curious expression. "Master Bartlow, are we starting training early today because of the new work schedule?"

Bartlow shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Not quite, Alex. I've got some business to attend to with Lady Mane this morning, so we'll be training in the afternoon as usual. But before I go, I wanted to drop off something for you—a gift."

Alex's confusion deepened, but he nodded and gestured for Bartlow to follow him into his room. As they stepped inside, Alex's eyes widened at the sight before him. Laid out on his bed was a set of leather armor, made from the fur of a lion. The rich brown fur was trimmed and polished, and a lion's head adorned the shoulder brace, its one eye scarred while the other remained intact. The craftsmanship was impeccable, and the armor looked both protective and symbolic.

Alex, in awe, stepped closer to inspect it, realizing what it was. "Is this made from the beast I killed in the Vana forest?" he asked, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.

Bartlow, pleased to see Alex's reaction, chuckled and nodded. "It is. I had it crafted by one of the best leather masters in the city. Thought it would make a fitting first set of armor for you. Something to remind you of where you started as you train and grow stronger."

Alex's chest swelled with gratitude, unsure how to properly express it. He turned to Bartlow and bowed deeply, a gesture of respect and appreciation. "Thank you, Master Bartlow. I'll wear this proudly and work hard to honor it."

As he rose from his bow, Alex remembered something important. "Also, Master Bartlow, I've been thinking. I'd like to forfeit my pay and give it to the Mane family as a way to show my appreciation for taking me in while I train with you."

Bartlow raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Alex's gesture. "That's a noble sentiment, Alex. I'll pass that along. But don't forget—you're training to become someone who doesn't need to give away their earnings to show gratitude. You're earning your place here, piece by piece." He gave Alex a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning to leave. "Now, I'll be off. We'll pick up our training this afternoon in the courtyard."

"Thank you again, Master," Alex called out as Bartlow walked toward the door.

Before leaving, Bartlow paused and turned back to give Alex one last piece of advice. "While I'm away, work on your endurance and cardio. Swing your sword like we practiced yesterday. Focus on striking at joints and vital points. Precision matters as much as strength."

Alex nodded, absorbing his master's instructions. As Bartlow left, Alex turned his attention back to the lion armor, running his hands over the soft but sturdy fur. Wearing this was a reminder of his first real triumph—and a symbol of the journey ahead.

Excited to begin his training, Alex quickly changed into the armor, feeling its weight and fit on his body. It was a perfect match, tailored to his measurements. Energized by the gift, he hurried out of his room and ran to the courtyard, eager to start practicing and prove himself worthy of the confidence Bartlow had placed in him.

Alex stood in the courtyard, bathed in the late afternoon sun, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he tirelessly swung his sword. Each movement was calculated, mimicking Bartlow's precision strikes from their last training session. He focused on driving his hips into each swing, attacking the air as though facing an invisible opponent. With every stab, slash, and thrust, Alex concentrated on his form, paying attention to how his muscles worked together, how his body's natural movements could increase his speed and strength.

He could feel the subtle differences with each adjustment, learning the flow of his own body in combat. He flexed and stretched his muscles in sequence, figuring out the most effective way to strike while conserving energy. Every motion was a lesson, every misstep a new understanding of what to improve.

As he was about to pause for a break, Ruth called out from behind him, carrying two plates of food. "Hey, Alex! I brought lunch!"

Alex wiped the sweat from his face with a towel, not wanting to appear too disheveled in front of her. Grateful for the break, he walked over to Ruth, who had set up their lunch on the steps leading into the courtyard. Ruth handed him a plate of roasted chicken, vegetables, and a fresh roll. His stomach rumbled in response, and after the first bite, Alex couldn't help but let out a content sigh.

"This is amazing, Ruth. Thank you," Alex said between bites, his hunger overriding any formality. "You're really spoiling me here."

Ruth smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment. "It's the least I can do as your personal maid," she replied, but her blush deepened as she realized what she'd just said aloud.

Alex paused, feeling the shift in the conversation. He had been confused about the idea of a "personal maid" since the moment Ruth brought it up. He looked at her earnestly and said, "Ruth, I didn't know what you meant when you asked to be my personal maid. I didn't realize what that role really entailed."

Ruth's face fell, the excitement in her expression replaced by uncertainty. "Oh… I see," she said quietly, fiddling with the corner of her apron. "So, you don't want me as your personal maid?"

Alex quickly shook his head. "No, no, it's not that," he clarified, seeing her disheartened reaction. "It's just… I didn't understand the depth of what you were asking. I didn't want to mislead you. I care about you, Ruth, but I think we should take our time and grow together. I don't want to rush into anything."

Ruth's face softened at his words, her earlier nervousness fading. She smiled, relieved. "I'd like that too. I guess I was just worried you might reject me outright."

"But why didn't you just ask to be my wife, Ruth?" Alex asked, genuinely curious.

Ruth looked away for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. "Because I'm a commoner," she began softly. "And you're going to be a noble, Alex. Nobles marrying commoners… it's not really done, at least not openly. It could damage your reputation before you even get started. But being a personal maid, or part of your… harem, is acceptable for someone of your future status."

Alex blinked in surprise. "A harem? I've never even thought about something like that."

Ruth explained, "It's common for nobles with higher status to have multiple partners. The more power and influence a noble has, the larger their harem can be."

Alex was still wrapping his head around the idea. "So, in order for us to be together in a way that's socially acceptable, you'd need to be my personal maid?"

Ruth nodded, her expression serious now. "Yes. It's the only way."

Alex hesitated, then asked another important question. "How would you feel about me having other wives? I've always thought of myself as a one-woman kind of man, but now that you're in my life… I don't know how to handle it."

Ruth's face flickered with emotion, a mix of jealousy and acceptance. She took a deep breath and asked quietly, "Who's the first woman?"

Alex sighed, looking down at the ground. "Her name was Melisa. She was from the orphanage. We promised to marry each other when we turned eighteen, but… she's gone now, along with everyone else in the fire. I feel like… like I'm betraying her."

Ruth softened, understanding the pain in his words. She placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I think… if Melisa were still here, she'd want you to be happy. Maybe she'd want to share in that happiness too. Love doesn't always follow the rules we expect."

Alex smiled weakly at her comfort, feeling a weight lift from his chest. "Thank you, Ruth. I guess… I never really thought about it that way."

Ruth's eyes softened, and before Alex knew what was happening, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. The moment was brief, but it conveyed everything she felt—her trust, her affection, and her promise to support him.

As they pulled away, Alex felt a newfound sense of clarity. "I'd be honored to have you as my personal maid, Ruth. I'll do my best to be the man you deserve."

Ruth blushed again, but this time it was with joy. "And I'll be there to support you, Alex. Through everything."

With the moment passed, Ruth gathered their plates and stood. "I should get back to work. You should get back to training. Bartlow will be expecting you."

Alex, feeling rejuvenated by their conversation and meal, stood up as well. "Thank you, Ruth. I'll push myself harder for both of us."

As Ruth walked back to the kitchen with the plates in hand, Alex returned to the courtyard, his mind clearer, his body ready for more. With renewed focus, he resumed his training, pushing himself even harder than before. Every swing of his sword felt sharper, every movement more precise. He wasn't just training for himself anymore—he was training for the future he and Ruth had just begun to imagine.

As the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows over the courtyard, Bartlow emerged, his presence commanding as always. He watched Alex for a moment, observing his student's progress before speaking.

"How's your training coming along, Alex?" Bartlow asked, his voice steady but curious.

Alex immediately paused, bowing slightly in respect before answering. "It's going well, Master Bartlow. I can feel my body becoming more attuned to my sword. Every swing feels more natural."

Bartlow nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Good. You've improved."

There was a brief silence as Bartlow considered Alex, then he broke it with a question. "Do you remember what I asked you yesterday? What do you think is the most important lesson I can teach you?"

Alex paused, the question weighing on him. After a moment of thought, he spoke earnestly. "I think the most important lesson I need to learn from you is to strengthen my resolve. To be strong enough to protect those I care about… and never to abuse the power or position I'll one day hold."

Bartlow nodded again, though this time with a deeper sense of approval. He hadn't quite expected that answer, but it spoke to Alex's character. "A noble goal," Bartlow said, his tone more serious now. "If that's what you want to learn, then that's what I'll teach you."

With that, Bartlow drew his wooden sword, and without warning, launched into his familiar barrage of attacks. Alex, now more prepared, braced himself. He could feel the difference in his body from yesterday—he was quicker to react, more capable of blocking Bartlow's strikes. Though some hits still landed, he found himself reading Bartlow's movements with greater clarity.

As Bartlow attacked, Alex noticed something in his master's style—how Bartlow used the force of their clashing swords to propel himself into his next move, how each strike seemed to flow into the next with fluid efficiency. Bartlow wasn't just attacking; he was manipulating the rhythm of the fight, using Alex's own movements to his advantage.

But just as Alex began to think he was getting a handle on things, Bartlow swept his leg out from under him, sending Alex sprawling to the ground. Before Alex could react, Bartlow's wooden sword was at his throat.

"It seems you're getting better at reading your opponent's movements," Bartlow said, offering a hand to pull Alex to his feet. "But there's more to battle than just swords."

Alex took Bartlow's hand and stood, catching his breath and trying to understand what he'd just been taught.

Bartlow looked him over, shaking his head slightly. "Your ability to adapt is impressive, but your knowledge of battle tactics—let alone the world—is severely lacking."

Alex frowned, not entirely sure how to respond. Bartlow had a way of mixing praise with criticism that left him both proud and humbled.

Realizing that Alex needed more than just combat training, Bartlow decided to shift focus. "Tell me, Alex, what do you know about the world beyond Vana?"

After a short conversation, it became clear that Alex's understanding of the broader world was limited. He had been sheltered in his small town, unaware of the intricacies of nobility, the cultivation world, and the general history that shaped the kingdoms. Bartlow sighed, his suspicions confirmed.

"Starting today," Bartlow began, "you'll be visiting the library on your days off. Your training isn't just about physical strength—it's about knowledge. Learn about nobility, cultivation, the history of this world. Each week, I'll ask you a few questions to test your progress."

Alex blinked in surprise. "Studying? But I thought training was supposed to be about combat and cultivation."

Bartlow gave him a sharp look. "Training isn't just about swinging a sword, boy. You need to understand the world you're going to navigate. Nobility and cultivation are as much about politics and knowledge as they are about power. If you don't know the rules, you'll be crushed by those who do."

Alex nodded slowly, realizing the wisdom in Bartlow's words. "I understand," he said. "I'll study."

Satisfied, Bartlow gestured for Alex to sit beside him on the steps. "Now, enough formalities. It's time we get to know each other properly. There's more to being a teacher and student than just lessons in battle."

As they sat, Bartlow looked over at Alex, his expression softening. "Tell me, Alex, what drives you? What's your story?"

Alex hesitated for a moment, but then, in the quiet of the courtyard, with the sun casting a warm glow on the stones around them, he began to speak. He told Bartlow about the orphanage, his mother, the fire, and his desire for revenge against those who had wronged him and taken everything from him. Bartlow listened in silence, his face unreadable but attentive.

When Alex finished, Bartlow was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "You've had a hard life, Alex. But remember—anger and revenge can drive a man, but they can also destroy him. Learn to balance your heart and your mind. If you let your emotions control you, you'll never reach your full potential."

Alex nodded, taking the advice to heart. Bartlow's words weren't just those of a master teaching a student—they were those of someone who had walked a difficult path and come out stronger.

As they sat together on the steps, the sun beginning its descent into late afternoon, Bartlow's expression grew more somber. He seemed to wrestle with his thoughts before finally speaking, his voice steady but carrying the weight of old wounds.

"I suppose it's only fair that I tell you a bit about my past too," Bartlow began, his gaze focused on the horizon. "Like you, I was an orphan. I lost my father in one of the many wars that ravaged our kingdom, and my mother… she died from disease not long after. I had a brother too. We were close, as close as brothers could be."

Bartlow paused, his jaw tightening slightly as he spoke of his brother. "He was taken from me, during a celebration ceremony. An assassin stabbed him in the back while we were all supposed to be safe, enjoying the festivities. I was young then, maybe around your age, and all I could think about was revenge. It consumed me, drove me to places I never thought I'd go."

Alex listened intently, seeing a side of Bartlow that he hadn't known before—a side that wasn't just a master or a warrior, but a man who had suffered deeply, just like him.

"I hunted down those responsible," Bartlow continued, his voice hardening. "And I got my revenge. But the price I paid… it was far greater than I ever imagined. I lost people along the way—good people who had nothing to do with the feud I was wrapped up in. I became someone I hardly recognized. By the time I realized what I'd done, it was too late to turn back."

Bartlow turned his gaze to Alex, his eyes sharp but filled with a kind of sorrow that only comes from experience. "Revenge isn't as simple as just getting even, Alex. It changes you. You think it will heal your wounds, but often it only deepens them."

Alex absorbed Bartlow's words, the weight of his own desire for revenge now feeling heavier than before. He had thought about getting stronger, about making those who wronged him pay, but Bartlow's story made him question the path he was so sure of.

"If revenge is truly what you want," Bartlow said, his voice stern but not unkind, "then you need to understand the consequences of your actions moving forward. Nothing in this world is free. Everything, even doing nothing, has consequences. The choices you make will shape your future, for better or worse."

Bartlow placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. "I don't tell you this to stop you. I tell you this so you're prepared. So you know that once you start down that road, it's hard to turn back."

Alex felt a lump form in his throat, the truth in Bartlow's words resonating deeply. For the first time, he realized that his desire for revenge wasn't just a personal mission—it was a path that could consume him if he wasn't careful. He had to think about more than just his anger. He had to think about what kind of man he wanted to become.

"I'll think about it," Alex said quietly, meeting Bartlow's eyes with a newfound sense of understanding. "I don't want to lose myself like that."

Bartlow nodded approvingly, standing up and offering Alex a hand to help him to his feet. "Good. That's the first step—to recognize that you have a choice. And that choice will define you, more than any strength or power you'll ever gain."

As they stood together, the bond between master and student solidified, not just through training, but through shared pain and the wisdom that came from it. The future was uncertain, but for now, Alex knew he had someone who understood, someone who could guide him not just in battle, but in life for a split second Alex thought maybe this is what it felt like to have a father who cared for him.