Roman
Roman felt the Sergeant's rallying cry reverberate through him, even though he was too far away to hear the actual words. The power behind it, the raw, primal energy, was enough to send a shiver down his spine. He bounced on the balls of his feet, expelling the last of his nervous energy, and muttered a quick prayer.
"Lord, I've made more mistakes than I can count, but I don't think this is one of them. I feel like this is where you want me to be. I know I'm new to this world, but I'm willing to fight for these people like they're my own. Give us the strength we need. Guide every step, every breath. In Jesus' name, I pray. Amen."
A warmth spread through him, a familiar, comforting presence that he had thought lost. He smiled, a fierce determination settling over him.
He pushed off with his left foot—and stumbled, his face planting into the dirt. He lay there for a second, stunned.
"Ah! Okay, let's try that again," he muttered, brushing himself off. Glad no one saw that. He took off again, more cautiously this time, making sure to watch his step. The enemy army loomed ahead, a dark mass bristling with weapons and armor. Roman could see some of them turning, pointing at the small group charging down the hill. Laughter rose from their ranks, but it died quickly as they saw the Hydra Knights' banner and the crest on Roman's armor.
"Hydra Knights!" one of the enemy soldiers shouted, his voice tinged with fear. "Commander!"
The opposing commander turned, his face twisted in confusion. "How many?"
"About fifty on one side, and one man alone on the left flank."
"Fifty and one…" The commander's eyes narrowed. "Why bother?"
"They came from the direction of the scouts, sir."
The commander's expression hardened. "So they killed an entire scouting party with just fifty men? And now they're charging? Men, I know this seems like a joke, but do NOT underestimate these soldiers!" He rose, his voice booming. "ARM UP!"
Roman grinned as he saw the enemy mobilizing, his pulse quickening. He pushed harder, feeling the wind whip past him as he ran full speed across the open field. He was moving so fast that the soldiers couldn't track him, their cries of confusion echoing through the air.
With a deafening boom, he hit their lines, tearing through their ranks like a force of nature. His glaive swung in a wide arc, cleaving through bodies with brutal efficiency. Ten men were hurled through the air with his first strike, another dozen cut down with his second. He moved like a whirlwind, a blur of steel and death, his momentum carrying him through the enemy ranks with terrifying ease.
He didn't bother blocking or dodging, simply plowing through them, his weapon slicing and crushing anything in its path. His speed was his greatest advantage; the enemy couldn't touch him, couldn't even see him clearly as he darted among them. He felt almost detached, as if he were watching from outside his own body, each kill a point on a scoreboard.
After a while, he stopped, panting, his chest heaving. The air was thick with dust and the stench of blood. He looked around, his eyes narrowing as he saw more soldiers rushing toward him.
"Now for the real fun," he muttered, ducking as an arrow whistled past him, striking one of the men charging at him. "Not a good idea to shoot at me here."
The archers seemed to get the message, stopping their volleys as Roman continued his assault. He moved through the ranks, his glaive a blur of deadly precision. He was in his element, his mind clear, his body moving on instinct.
But then a strange sensation began to build in his chest, a faint vibration that grew stronger with each breath. He frowned, focusing on it, and a series of screens flickered into view before his eyes. He had minimized them earlier, and now they sprang back to life, displaying information.
--Glaive Proficiency lvl 10 gained. Mastered.
Roman's eyes widened as he focused on just that section for now, ignoring the rest of the data. I've mastered it already? That's insane! He glanced around, still moving, and pushed the notifications aside. He'd deal with that later. For now, he needed to focus on the fight.
Gasp! Pain exploded through his side as an arrow struck, piercing his ribs. Roman stumbled, his breath hitching, the shock of the wound momentarily paralyzing him. He could feel the blood bubbling in his lung, each breath a struggle.
You can handle this. Run while you assess. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself forward, sprinting back toward the hill he had descended, his mind splitting between the physical and the mental. He focused inward, tracing the path of the arrow. The damage was bad—a punctured lung and a cracked rib.
He visualized his energy, directing it toward the wound. It flowed around the arrowhead, coating it, and then gently pushed, sealing the punctures as it moved. The arrow fell free, clattering to the ground. He sighed in relief, but the pain still burned in his chest.
The energy can't fix everything. I'll need proper healing for this. He tried to focus on his lung, but the energy wouldn't respond. He glanced at his hands, noticing the faint glow around the seedlings embedded in his palms. The energy swirled around them, as if trying to dig them out.
What are you doing? He pushed more energy toward the seedlings, willing it to work. It felt as though something was shifting, the sensation both thrilling and painful.
And then the pain exploded.
It wasn't just pain—it was agony, tearing through Roman's body like molten fire coursing through his veins. His vision blurred, and he collapsed onto the ground, his body convulsing uncontrollably. His scream was caught in his throat, muffled by the dirt pressing against his face. His muscles spasmed violently, betraying him as waves of sheer torment ripped through every inch of his being. He could hear the distant roar of the enemy's cheers, their laughter ringing out in celebration, thinking they had finally brought him down.
But inside Roman, the real battle had just begun.
Focus, he tried to tell himself, but it was hard to grasp even that simple thought in the hurricane of pain. His body felt as if it were being torn apart from the inside, each breath a new agony. Every nerve screamed for mercy, and for a terrifying moment, he felt utterly vulnerable, the sharp edges of mortality clawing at his mind.
Is this how it ends? The thought slipped through the chaos, cold and terrifying. For a fleeting moment, it felt possible. He was too broken, too weak. I can't... not now. Not like this.
He gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might shatter. He had been through too much, survived too many horrors to give up now. He couldn't afford to let go, not when he was so close. The seedlings in his palms throbbed painfully, something within them shifting, as though something inside him was clawing its way to the surface.
Just… a little… more, he thought, his vision fading to black at the edges. Every nerve screamed, his muscles burned like they were being shredded from the inside, but he forced himself to hold on. The seedlings shifted again, and then, with a sickening pop, something inside him snapped. The pain vanished in an instant, replaced by a strange, pulsing warmth that flooded his body.
Relief washed over him like a wave, so overwhelming he thought he might weep. He lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, his body trembling from the aftershocks. His muscles twitched involuntarily, but the agony was gone, replaced by a tingling sensation that coursed through him like liquid electricity.
Roman slowly pushed himself to his knees, panting heavily. The distant cheers of the enemy faded into the background, insignificant now. His hands still shook, but it wasn't from weakness—it was from something else entirely. He looked down at them, his breath catching as he saw the faint glow beneath his skin. The seedlings were pulsating, vibrant with life, energy radiating from them in waves. He could feel it, a power thrumming just beneath the surface.
Focus.
The word came unbidden, but he latched onto it, pulling himself together. He grasped at the raw, wild energy swirling within him, reining it in, shaping it. The power responded, and as he pushed against the barrier inside himself, he felt it give way. The flood of energy that followed was like nothing he had ever experienced before.
With one final, agonized scream, the last of the barrier shattered, and the power surged through him—pure, unbridled, electric. His fatigue disappeared in an instant, his strength returning with a vengeance. He felt alive—stronger, faster, sharper than he had ever been before. His body hummed with the energy coursing through him, and with it came a deep, intoxicating sense of control.
I'm back.
Roman pushed himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders, testing the new power. He felt invincible, every muscle in his body vibrating with energy. His senses sharpened, the world coming into razor focus. The arrows raining down around him seemed to slow, their deadly trajectory easy to dodge. With a grin, he ducked and weaved through them with effortless grace, the thrill of it sending a jolt of excitement through him.
Let's see what this new power can do.
Roman's eyes locked onto the struggling ranks of the Sergeant's men in the distance. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the battle, his feet barely touching the ground as he tore through the rolling hills. Arrows zipped past him, but he didn't bother dodging them now—he didn't have to. The energy pulsed within him, and every step felt like he was flying.
He burst into the fray, his glaive already humming with power. He didn't slow down. He simply held the glaive out, letting his speed and momentum do the work as he cut through the enemy ranks like a battering ram. The first soldier barely had time to scream before the blade tore through him. The second and third followed in quick succession, their bodies collapsing in a heap as Roman sliced his way through the mass of enemies with almost comical ease.
Alright, time to get flashy.
Roman grinned, his grip tightening on the glaive. He could feel the raw energy in the weapon, waiting to be unleashed. He made his choice: Elemental Damage. Electricity crackled along the length of the blade, at first just faint sparks, then growing into a vibrant web of energy that danced up and down the weapon. Roman laughed, the sound sharp and wild, as the power surged through him.
"Oh, shocking development on the field!" he quipped, his voice taking on a playful, exaggerated commentator's tone. "Roman did not come to play today, folks!"
With a flourish, he slashed the glaive diagonally, sending a shockwave of lightning arcing out from the blade. The wave ripped through the enemy ranks, cutting through soldiers like they were made of paper. At least twenty men dropped in a single strike, their bodies convulsing as the electricity tore through them.
"He is putting on one electrifying performance today!" Roman laughed, reveling in the absurdity of it all. He spun, his glaive crackling with energy as he cut his way through the remaining soldiers, each strike accompanied by another quip.
"Who's next?" he called out, ducking under a wild swing from one of the enemies. "Come on, don't be shy! I've got plenty of volts left for everyone!"
Roman darted forward, his movements so fast the enemy couldn't track him. He swept his glaive in a wide arc, lightning trailing behind it in dazzling streaks of light. Soldiers fell before him like dominoes, and he barely broke a sweat.
Before he knew it, he was face-to-face with the Sergeant, who was mid-swing, barely registering Roman's presence.
"Whoa there, buddy. It's me," Roman said, grinning as he effortlessly ducked under the Sergeant's swing and pushed him back behind the front lines. "You're going to hurt someone with that if you're not careful."
The Sergeant blinked at him, bewildered. "Roman? What the hell—"
Roman leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "We've got another dust cloud coming our way. Can't tell if it's friend or foe, though. Thought I'd let you know before I start really showing off."
The Sergeant blinked again, still trying to process what he was seeing. Roman just grinned wider.
"Well, let's hope it's friends, 'cause if it's more enemies, this is going to get real interesting, real fast."
With a wink, Roman spun on his heel, the electricity in his glaive crackling with renewed vigor.
"Now, where was I? Ah, yes—shocking the audience!" He quipped before launching himself back into the fray, laughing all the while. He slashed at a few folks before he heard the Sergeant call him back.
"Wait Roman!" When Roman approached he continued. "
The Sergeant's eyes narrowed as he turned to look back in the direction Roman had pointed out to him. "It might be the Commander, but I don't see how he would've mustered the army and marched out here so quickly. The next closest city is Kenan, and I know Count Kenan would send reinforcements as soon as he heard, but they shouldn't be here already."
Roman shifted, the energy inside him still thrumming, making him almost jittery with anticipation. "If you need me to get a closer look, I can do it. You mentioned a black flag with two griffons? I can try to see if it's that."
The Sergeant nodded. "Yes, that's Knight Commander Dalf's family crest. If you see it, it's a good sign. If not, get back here quick."
Roman took off without another word, sprinting across the battlefield with a speed that left even the seasoned soldiers staring in disbelief. He barely felt the ground beneath his feet as he moved, the landscape around him blurring into streaks of green and brown. Each stride was effortless, as though his legs were carrying him on a gust of wind. He reached the ridge in seconds, not even winded, and came to a stop, his enhanced vision already kicking in as he scanned the horizon.
The dust cloud was massive, churning the earth in its wake, obscuring details from normal sight. But Roman wasn't normal—not anymore. He squinted, focusing on the distant shapes as his vision honed in, piercing through the haze as if the dust was no obstacle at all.
Come on, show me what you've got.
His eyes darted between the moving figures, taking in the gleaming armor and shifting formations. It was a massive army, no doubt, but he needed to know if they were friend or foe. His heart pounded with a mixture of hope and dread. He scanned the horizon for a sign, something the Sergeant had described to him in haste.
There!
Among the sea of bodies, horses, and weapons, his eyes locked onto a banner fluttering in the wind. It was adorned with a pair of griffons, just as the Sergeant had said. Relief washed over him, but he didn't let himself relax yet. The army was still far off, but he knew better than to take any situation lightly.
Better make sure, Roman thought, crouching lower to the ground to get a better angle.
Now that he had identified the banner, he took a moment to scan the rest of the army, trying to get a sense of their numbers. His vision, still enhanced by the strange cultivation power coursing through him, allowed him to see much farther and clearer than any ordinary scout could. It was a force to be reckoned with, thousands strong, but nothing compared to the army they had just fought. This might be the reinforcements the Sergeant had hoped for.
Roman grinned. Alright, looks like help is on the way. But then he paused. Something tugged at him—a sense of unfinished business. He had been pushing his limits, unlocking new abilities, and yet he hadn't truly taken stock of where he stood now. He had been so caught up in the rush of battle and survival that he hadn't even checked the full extent of his status since everything had started to change.
Let's see where I'm at.
He focused inward, pulling up the interface of his stat screen. The familiar transparent display appeared before his eyes, lines of data scrolling as his status materialized in front of him:
Name: Roman Name: Roman
Race: Human
Age: 19
Title: [World Walker]
Title: [Exponential Growth]
Title: [Cultivator's Body]
Cultivation Status: Empowered Core (Leveled up twice from Broken Core)
Skills and proficiency:
Sword Mastery: Lvl 10 (Mastered)
Glaive Mastery: Lvl 10 (Mastered)
Elemental Weapon Mastery - Lightning: Lvl 5
Weapon Proficiency - All Weapons: Lvl 6
Enhanced Agility: Lvl 9
Enhanced Strength: Lvl 7
Athleticism: Lvl 9
Healing Acceleration: Lvl 5
Split Focus: Lvl 4
Battle Instincts: Lvl 6
Combat Awareness: Lvl 7
Energy Manipulation: Lvl 5
Spiritual Connection: Lvl 7
Flash Step: Lvl 6
Leadership Presence: Lvl 5
<…>
Roman's eyes flicked over the screen, noting his progress. His Empowered Core stood out, the result of his cultivation finally breaking free from its broken state. That pop he had felt earlier, the surge of strength—it all made sense now. He was stronger than ever, and the skills he had unlocked reflected that. The glaive mastery, the lightning infusion, even his speed—everything was coming together.
But something else caught his eye. A new system alert had appeared in the corner of his vision, flashing faintly.
New Skills Learned:
Lightning Burst (Active): Release an explosive surge of electricity, damaging and stunning nearby enemies.
Kinetic Absorption (Passive): Absorb and store kinetic energy from physical impacts, converting it into a temporary boost of strength or speed.
Roman grinned, his confidence swelling. Well, well, looks like I've been holding out on myself.
He dismissed the stat screen, the numbers fading from view, but the knowledge of his newfound abilities lingered. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the energy still crackling beneath his skin, eager to be unleashed.
Alright, he thought, standing up straight and casting one last glance at the approaching army. Time to get back to the Sergeant and let him know we've got reinforcements on the way.
And with that, he sprinted off again, his body surging forward with newfound strength, the wind rushing past as the ground blurred beneath him. There was no hesitation now—just the thrill of speed, and the feeling that, for the first time in a long while, he had control over the chaos inside him. He raced back to the Sergeant, the wind whipping past him. He skidded to a halt in front of the man, a triumphant grin on his face. "I saw the flag you talked about."
"Really?" The Sergeant's face lit up. "Then we're saved! All we have to do now is hold out."
"Should we fall back a bit until they get here?" Roman suggested. "I think I've been pushing myself a little too hard…" He trailed off, noticing the Sergeant staring out over the battlefield, his face tense.
Roman followed his gaze and saw the enemy forces shifting. The massive army that had seemed so unstoppable was now retreating, the soldiers pulling back toward the forest in a hurried, chaotic mass.
"They're retreating!" A cheer rose from the soldiers around them as the Sergeant turned, his voice ringing out over the battlefield.
"Chase them down! Push, men!" The Sergeant charged forward, his sword swinging as he cut through the retreating soldiers. Roman followed, his glaive carving a path through the enemy ranks. This time, he moved at a normal speed, the earlier surge of energy starting to wane. He was exhausted, but there was a strange exhilaration in the fight—a sense of purpose that he hadn't felt in a long time.
He fought alongside the Sergeant, cutting down soldiers with every swing. The retreating enemy was in disarray, and Roman could see the fear in their eyes as they fled. It was almost too easy. He laughed, a breathless sound, as he imagined what his friends back on Earth would think if they could see him now.
I could really go for some Chick-fil-A right about now, he thought with a grin, the absurdity of the situation striking him. The Lord's Chicken sounds perfect after this.
"Alright, men, halt!" the Sergeant called out as they reached the edge of the forest. He stopped his men, letting them catch their breath as they watched the enemy vanish into the trees.
Roman stood near the Sergeant, his eyes drawn to the food being prepared in the makeshift camp. His stomach growled loudly, and he glanced around, wondering if anyone else had heard it.
"Knight Commander Dalf, if you aren't a sight for sore eyes," the Sergeant called out as the mounted commander approached, his men forming a disciplined line behind him.
"I'd bet," Dalf replied, dismounting with a fluid grace. "Was that the entire enemy force?"
"Yes, sir. We killed the separate branch they sent and held the bulk here until you arrived." The Sergeant's voice was filled with pride.
"With only fifty men? How is that possible? There had to be at least fifty thousand soldiers!" Dalf looked around, his disbelief clear.
"There were a hundred thousand initially, plus some beasts," the Sergeant corrected. "They started to retreat when they saw you on the horizon."
Dalf shook his head, incredulous. "I thought the stories about the Hydra Knights were exaggerated, but seeing this… It's unbelievable."
"I'd love to take all the credit, but a lot of this was thanks to this young man." The Sergeant gestured to Roman. "Knight Commander Dalf, meet Roman."
Dalf's gaze sharpened as he turned to Roman, a look of recognition in his eyes. "So, you're the one the King sent word about. He asked that we find and protect you. It seems, however, that you've been the one doing the protecting. You have my gratitude."
Roman shifted awkwardly, not used to such praise. "It wasn't just me. The Hydra Knights did most of the work. I just… ran fast and swung this glaive around."
"Fast enough to down at least eight hundred men!" The Sergeant interjected, his voice brimming with admiration. "And that's just what I saw before I got busy with my own fight. This man fought like ten of us combined."
Roman felt a flush creeping up his neck. "You're exaggerating, Sergeant. You and your men held the line. I just distracted them."
The Knight Commander laughed, clapping both men on the shoulders. "You're both incredible. I'll be sure to tell the King of your bravery."
A shout came from behind them. "Sir, the King's army has arrived! Commander Athel is with them!"
Dalf's eyes widened. "That was fast. He must have pushed them hard to get here so quickly."
Roman felt his heart sink at the mention of the King's army. The King… He wasn't sure he was ready to face him, not after everything that had happened. But he didn't have a choice.
"Roman," Dalf said, turning back to him, "the King has requested your presence in the capital. This man will escort you there." He gestured to a soldier holding a horse.
The Sergeant stepped forward, his expression serious. "We'll take care of things here. You go. The King needs to know what happened."
Roman nodded, his heart pounding. "Thank you." He turned to the soldier and took the reins, swinging up into the saddle.
"We'll keep fighting here, Sergeant," Dalf said, his voice carrying across the camp. "Push those bastards back, and don't stop until they're out of our land!"
The Sergeant saluted, and the men around him echoed the gesture, their eyes fierce with determination. Roman watched them for a moment, feeling a strange mix of pride and sorrow. He had fought with these men, shared their struggle. Now he was leaving them behind.
With a deep breath, he turned the horse and followed the portal man. The soldier moved his hands in a complex pattern, and a shimmering portal appeared before them.
Roman glanced back one last time, the battlefield now calm, the Hydra Knights standing tall amidst the wreckage. He took a deep breath, then spurred the horse forward and stepped through the portal, into the unknown.