The night that Count Dellix returned was warmer than most other nights. It was uncomfortably so; A bit too loud, the songs of nightbirds and crickets filling the air, a bit too bright, the soldiers' torches a bit too bright, the eyes of owls in their trees dull compared to the torchlight, which were a bit too warm, the soldiers' armor a bit too heavy, the ground a bit too uneven for the horses, it was all a bit too off. But most of all, the air was much, much too tense. The retinue, led by Count Dellix, strode down the forest path, through the gates leading to the barracks. The soldiers unfastened their armor, stowed away their weapons, and collapsed into their bunks. There was no fanfare; No joy, no cheering, no people awaiting their arrival. The air hung heavy as Count Dellix sat outside the barracks, a shovel in his trembling hand. A cloth bundle lay beside him, cradling fourteen swords.
"Damnit..."
He could barely speak, choking on his own words as he dropped the shovel. The air hung heavy as he dropped to his knees, 13 graves dug empty before him. A long scar ran jagged down his arm, the fur around it darkened with dried blood, as though the wound itself refused to fade.
"It wasn't supposed to go like this..."
If only I hadn't been so weak... If only my blade was a bit faster... I'm sorry... I've failed you all...
He picked up the bundle of swords, gritting his teeth, covering his eyes with his hands as he laid each sword into a grave, laying two in the last grave; They'd been lovers, and this would have been their last battle before getting married and retiring. That would have happened had they returned.
"Rest now, my soldiers... may you find your peace."
Dellix could still feel it, even now; The sound of screams, the shouts and yelps of agony, the smell of blood, the air heavy with fear, his blade feeling heavy in his hand. It felt as if he were still on that accursed battle field. His hands still trembled, the blood still rushing through his veins as though he were mid combat. He picked up the shovel, wincing as the metal grazed his paws, laying the last memories of his many fallen men to rest.
And the night
Was quiet.
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Addys awoke with a yawn, the morning light falling beautifully through the window. Such a nice morning; The birds sang sweet songs, his blanket comfortable yet feeling weightless, his clothes light, his body well-rested compared to how he felt yesterday.
I almost forgot! Father was supposed to have returned last night!
Addys quickly jumped out of bed, using a stool (Which he'd found in the corner of his closet) to reach the top of the dresser as he put on his best outfit. He brushed his teeth and did his hair quickly as he rushed out of his room, quickly dipping back in to grab his book bag before sprinting down the halls. The house felt light as he ran through it, sliding to a stop at the large pair of doors that marked his father's office, which had remained unopened for the past 3 years.
I almost let my character slip in my excitement... Calm down... Deep breaths... Focus.
Kangseok thought, worried about how excited he'd gotten. But why shouldn't he be? It'd been 3 years. Three whole years. It felt like a lifetime. And now, finally, he could step into his father's study, full of things he hadn't been able to learn about until now. But that wasn't important; he had stuff he wanted to learn about the monster subjugation, specifically the monsters. He needed to know as much as he possibly could. If not for future use, at least to sate his hunger for knowledge. He tentatively reached up for the handle, steeling his resolve.
I couldn't reach the handle…
He sat in his room, once again distraught by his shortcomings in terms of height.
Damn you, tiny child body!
Kangseok cursed with a sigh. Now was not the time for moping. If he couldn't meet his father now, he'd meet him at dinner. For now, he needed to train. Addys had been training for about two months at this point, and, though he still wasn't the best with a sword in practice, he was good at at least understanding the theories behind swordsmanship and techniques, more so than the other trainees, at the very least. For now, he understood that he needed to do one thing; Grow stronger.
Or maybe it's "Grow taller"...
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"Seventy one… Seventy two… Seventy three…"
"Swing harder! Keep your back straight!"
The swordsmanship teacher barked (Literally- he was a dog) at Addys with an annoyed grunt. Addys had been training since that evening, swinging his sword and working out, waiting for a chance to speak with his father.
"Are you listening, boy?!"
The instructor demanded, startling Addys out of his thoughts. The instructor was a bit short; still much taller than Addys was, but short by adult standards; and was by far, in Addys' opinion, the loudest person there.
"Yes sir…"
Addys panted, exhausted from his training, his clothes clinging to his fur. He'd not had a break since he'd picked up the wooden sword, but he trusted the instructor; mainly because he felt that if he didn't his head would be torn off. He continued swinging his sword, focusing on the moment, how his sword felt in his hands, how the air pushed against his blade, the small imperfections in his movements that he couldn't seem to hammer out, the direction of his blade, all of it. And it still refused to click in his mind. He swung again. And again. The wooden blade stung in his grip, his fingers aching from repetition. Each strike sent a dull vibration up his arm, his movements still lacking the fluidity of a true swordsman. He analyzed every tiny mistake—the angle of his wrist, the weight shift in his stance, the way his blade cut through the air a fraction slower than it should. And yet, no matter how much he corrected, something still felt off. The instructor gave a tired sigh, waving Addys to stop.
"Let's call it here for today. You need some rest and to do something that's not just waving your sword like an idiot."
"Alright…"
Addys replied, still panting with exhaustion as he put the wooden sword back on the rack he got it from, sitting down on a bench to rest. He opened the system menu, a bit annoyed with his lack of progress in swordsmanship.
[OPENING -Stats- SCREEN FOR USER -Addys-]
_____________________________________________________________
[USER: Addys Waters]
[CLASS: Undetermined]
[LEVEL: 0]
[PASSIVE SKILLS:]
_____________________________________________________________
[SLOT 1] [DRACONIC ANCESTRY (LOCKED)]
[SLOT 2] [N/A]
[SLOT 3] [N/A]
_____________________________________________________________
[STATS]:
_____________________________________________________________
[STR. 2 (+10)]
[INT. 8 (+5)]
[WIS. 5.5 (+5)]
[CHA. 3 (+5)]
[DEX. 3 (+10)]
[END. 6 (+10)]
[STM. 11 (+10)]
[SPD. 15 (+10)]
[MANA: 1550/1550]
[HP: 8/10]
_____________________________________________________________
[*SYSTEM BONUS: +5 TO ALL STATS, + SPECIAL SKILL TREE]
[*RACE BONUS: +5 TO STR., DEX., END., STM, AND SPD.]
[*LINEAGE BONUS: +FIRE RES., +5 STR. PER PARTY MEMBER]
[*SPECIAL CLASS AVAILABLE AT LEVEL 5]
_____________________________________________________________
[NOTICE: DEBUFF "Swordsmanship Ineptitude" ACTIVE]
[USER -Addys- learns swordsmanship 50% slower with common blades, including:]
{"Shortsword", "Longsword", "Broadsword", "Spear type weapons", "Polearm type weapons", "Rapier", "Cutlass", "Sabre", "Bastard sword", "Claymore", "Crusader sword", "Most axe type weapons", "Scimitar", "Falchion", "Tonfa"}
[This debuff will be removed when END. = 50, STR. = 50, and STM. = 50. Or when [Passive skill: Swordsmanship] is rank 7 or above.]
[This debuff can evolve into a buff.]
[NOTICE: DEBUFF "Illness" ACTIVE]
[USER -Addys- will receive a 50% stat debuff when performing demanding physical tasks. This debuff can be cured using medicine.]
_____________________________________________________________
Swordsmanship Ineptitude? That explains it. And… I'm ill? What happened? Why am I ill? Did I eat something? Maybe it was an insect… what caused my illness?
The questions swirled around Addys' head as he looked at the stat screen. He noticed his stat increases; most likely from the training. The list of weapons he was basically unable to use was long, and it was all the most common swords he could think of. But looking at the list, he noticed some bladed weapons he could think of that weren't listed; The Katana, Dao, Gauntlets, Chain weapons (Perhaps a segmented sword), Scythes (Which he personally found too edgy), and the Khopesh.
For now, I'll go to the physician to see if he can get rid of my illness. This is really gonna cap my progress until I deal with it, so it's my first priority.
Addys walked down the long halls, wiping his matted fur with a wet towel, checking his mental map of the mansion to make sure he was going the right way. If he didn't know the floor plans of the building (AKA the blueprints he'd "Borrowed"), he'd be more lost than a blind dog in a corn maze. He reached up, knocking on the door, finally noticing how clammy and cold his hands felt, shaking from illness. Definitely not good. Addys stepped back as the door swung open, the room inside bright and uncomfortably sterile-looking. The physician, an avian, specifically a dove, was probably the tallest person Addys knew, including his father.
"Oh, Addys. Are you alright?"
"I feel ill…"
Addys responded in a small voice, followed by a short cough.
The physician adjusted his glasses, placing a feathered hand against Addys' forehead. His beak twitched slightly.
"Hmph. You're burning up, yet your pulse is erratic—too slow one second, then spiking the next." He pulled away, observing Addys carefully. "…You've been training too hard."
Addys said nothing, just lowered his gaze slightly. His ears flicked once. The physician sighed. He grabbed a wooden rod from his desk and lightly tapped Addys' wrist. A sharp tingle spread up his arm, prickling under his skin, as if something inside him was shifting. The physician gave a small nod, as if that confirmed something.
"Mana Flow Overcharge."
Addys blinked.
"Your body's too young to sustain the energy you're burning through. Your mana is trying to compensate, but instead, it's forcing your body into overdrive. That's why you're sick."
A slow breath. Addys' fingers curled slightly in his lap.
"…What's the solution?" His voice came out quieter than intended.
The physician folded his wings behind his back. "Rest."
Addys sighed, hoping that that wasn't the case. He needed to train and get stronger so he could get rid of the Swordsmanship Ineptitude debuff.
The physician clicked his tongue. "Thought you'd react like that."
He turned, rummaging through a wooden cabinet, before pulling out a glass bottle filled with a faintly glowing, silver liquid. It shimmered as it caught the light.
"Drink this twice a day. It won't fix the problem, but it'll stop your mana from wrecking your insides while your body catches up."
Addys took the vial without a word, rolling it between his fingers. The glass was cool to the touch, the liquid inside moving too smoothly—like mercury.
"It tastes awful," the physician muttered, as if anticipating the question.
Addys gave the smallest nod. That was expected. The physician watched him for a moment longer before sighing. "…You know, you don't have to push so hard."
No response.
"You've got time, Addys."
A long pause. Finally, Addys stood, tucking the vial carefully into his pocket. He turned toward the door.
"…Thank you."
His voice was barely above a whisper. And then, he was gone, out the heavy wood doors. He reached into his pocket, his paws sliding across the smooth glass of the vial. With how medicine from ancient times is in the real world, he wouldn't be surprised if it actually was mercury in the vial. He blinked, looking through the windows at the sunlight filtering through the panes. The trees rustled softly, leaves floating slowly past. He opened the window, taking in the soft breeze and fresh air. He listened closely to the nature outside, his ears twitching, his tail swaying softly.
And it was quiet.