The sword crashed into the ground, leaving a nasty gash on it. The metal dummy in between the swing fell apart with hardly any effort. The feeling was intense, painful…

But most of all, satisfying. He swung again, his arms bulging with an ever so slightly showing amount of muscle as once again the room exploded. He’d grown, both through his body and power. His body, once soft and doughy, had reached a perfect equilibrium of muscle and wellness. He was toned but not to the point where it seemed from exercise.

His height had also exploded as well, at the tender age of 14 he’d grown to be slightly above 5’10. If it wasn’t for his face, he could even be mistaken for someone older. Hell, maybe even with his face people would still be convinced. No longer too soft but with sharper features that enhanced his looks, smooth and delicate. His hair had grown even longer, reaching his lower back in a wild and thick way. He looked his age, at least on those features. If all they saw were the hollow, empty eyes of the poor boy, however, that’d be a different story.

Another swing, the feeling of repetition flowing seamlessly through him as the giant sword ruthlessly came down at extreme speeds, held by only one hand. Using two hands wasn’t necessary at this point, not for such a weak and light sword. It was nice, repeating this mundane task…

*ding*

Due to an influx of emotion, along with the skill, ‘Talent of the insane’, You gained the skill, “Deep isolation.”

Deep isolation: You lost everything. At least, you feel as if you lost everything. Making friends is ever so slightly harder. Your chest feels tighter.

The skill held nothing valuable. But for some reason, a part of his heart felt less empty. Not as if it had been filled, but merely as if it had become smaller… Less space to fill, either way. Had his mother attained this skill, too? By the way, she’d acted, probably not. He wished she did, though. The poor woman was probably just experienced in this type of hell. He continued the exercise. Training nonstop, along with the skill “deep isolation”, helped clear his mind a bit. It would help when he stepped outside the house, He’d soon have the awakening, after all.

Soon, he’d be able to complete his quest.

Name: Elliot Dresmr

Level: 1

Occupation: none

Class: None

Strength: 254

Vitality: 102

Dexterity: 152 (+76)

Agility: 153 (+76)

Intelligence: 142 (+71)

Wisdom: 72

Charm: 71 (+35)

Luck: 14

Skills: Strength of a Tyrant (Passive), Cunning of a snake (Passive) Talent of the Insane (Passive) Pk Memory- AA “Elliot Dresmr” (passive, concealed) Aerial maneuvering (Passive) Battle Savant (Passive) Deep isolation. (Passive)

Unused stat points: 0

Quest: Bring your sister home. You’ll receive one free stat point as a reward.

In the past two years, he’d gained a bit over 330 stats. He had stopped counting a while ago. He remembered how hard he struggled for these. For months people had even referred to him as the “Nosy Prince”. He remembered how mad he had felt when he heard that nickname, thinking they were all ungrateful little bastards. He soon realized the title had come out of love, the town calling out his name whenever he was around and handing him the occasional gift.

It all felt so meaningless now. He still remembered the day that damn messenger arrived. The man held no passion for his job, almost as indifferent as one would feel breathing as he told them the news.

He had only heard the first few seconds. “Keyla Dresmr has been considered dead during a dungeon run yesterday in the city of Ooraville.” He didn’t remember anymore, blacking out at just those simple, cruel words. The last thing he had heard was his mother’s pained cry. He hadn’t even been able to stay conscious long enough to console her. Such shame, such embarrassment...

That had been four days ago. The thoughts revolved around his head as he put on new clothes, a set of black pants and a white shirt with. Once he finally equipped his armor, he was ready to start the day. Soon the awakening would start, and he’d have no choice but to go outside. “Mother, I’ll be off now.” He didn’t want to look at her. His mother… Seemed to know what was going to happen.

She was destroyed by what happened to Keyla, much worse than him. Her sadness seemed to make way for brittle coldness, however. She talked to him less and less as the day of the awakening came, and it wasn’t until the quest showed up that he realized why. She knew he was going to leave soon, leave to bring his sister back but leave nonetheless. She wouldn’t leave her room today, but she didn’t bar him from entering.

He opened the door, seeing her for the first time in two days, a long time for two people who used to be inseparable. She seemed calm, subdued. This was terrible to see of someone as fiery as her. She looked ill, like a woman who knew her days were numbered and came to peace with that thought. It made his heart hurt just to look at her. “Mother… I’m going now. Please… Please take care of yourself.” The words barely seemed to enter her ears, and she only nodded ever so slightly in response. Despite that, he could see her eyeing the armor and blunt sword he had equipped. She knew, and it was devastating to him.

He’d bring his sister’s body back. He’d at least give his mother that closure. If he didn’t then he was afraid that things would never be the same, for both her and him… With no more words, he left her. It’d probably be the last time they’d talk for a long time. The walk to the church was quite a long one. He didn’t have the energy to run there, and there was no carriage for him to use like last time. He hadn’t had any other choice but to go earlier. There was just a bit of light, the world mostly hidden in the darkness. The sun would be out by the time he made it to the church, and then everything would finally begin.

The walk was over an hour long, and by halfway through the streets had turned lively again. People knew him well, knew the boy that had helped almost every person in the town without a reward. They at least knew to keep well out of his way, today. He was thankful as he passed the people, most of them looking at him with sadness in their eyes but never even uttering a whisper, never saying a single thing about what had happened. Something like this was huge, and the town would have loved to babble nonstop over it.

They were kind enough to shut up about it as he walked past, though. It was as if he was completely alone once more. His heart tightened a bit more, and his head felt just a bit clearer. The ‘Deep isolation’ skill was extremely helpful, he once again realized. He’d made it to the church at a good, early time. People were crowding the area but there was still time before everything began. He didn’t bother to socialize, sitting near the church’s entrance, waiting for them to start.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

He was sure that if he went in there he’d get nothing but consolation and pity, and that made him feel sick to his stomach. He’d ask for their forgiveness when he returned, but for now, looking at all their happy faces made him green with envy. His eyes grew heavy as he stood still, threatening to close. He hadn’t slept the entirety of last night, training instead in order to clear his mind. That might have been a problem, though.

His head bobbed up and down, and for a second he felt as if it’d be fine to sleep for a bit, before a hand rested on his shoulder. He flinched, but relaxed as he looked up and saw a familiar face. It was Elizabeth. She was sixteen now, and her age showed her growth. She was definitely taller than six feet now, and her muscle growth certainly didn’t fail to catch up, either. In a way, she was everything he’d wanted to be when he grew up. He had already accepted that he would look this way forever, though, and made peace with it.

The two had grown close these last few years, she had been the only one who could take his hits, and he had been the only one to challenge her properly. They’d created a close camaraderie in the end, something that could only be broken by something as cruel as what had happened. He probably wouldn’t see her smile again, not for a long time. He still respected her though, and respected the lady she had become. Because of it, he’d tell her his plan after he gained his class.

The girl looked worried. “Elliot, you haven’t left your house in days… neither has your mother. We were afraid you two were going to skip the awakening. Where is she?” He gave her a smile, one filled with sadness and pain. “She didn’t come.” He said, solemnly. He didn’t bother looking at the reaction she had, since it would only make him feel guilty for telling her. She had become his rock in the time Keyla had been out of his life, and he felt he could be more selfish with her.

“Elliot…” The girl went in to hug him, and he simply took the embrace. She was warm, and it felt nice. It hurt when she hugged him though, and he didn’t know why. Eventually, she let go, and her face looked as if unsure if she should have done so in the first place. With red cheeks, she decided to tell him the real reason she was there. “Um, my father had asked me to tell you about your sword.” The sword? Ah… The sword he’d asked for long ago, when he’d been given the quest that allowed him to meet the girl he saw in front of him today.

“The sword… I still remember how battered you looked when I saved you, Elizabeth. I’m glad I got to meet you.” She gave him a shocked, flustered look, before she crossed her arms, huffing in annoyance. “Because of the sword, right? And you still bring that up?” He smiled, not saying anything else. She sighed at his stubbornness but didn’t argue like usual, probably her own special way of being nice to him.“Your mother had asked us yesterday to give you the sword at the church. We expected she’d be here too…”

He jumped from his seating position as he heard that. He grabbed her shoulders pulling her close with a violent intensity in his eyes. “Mom had asked you to do that!?” Elizabeth yelped and backed off, seeing the complex emotions on her friend’s face. “Elliot? Are you okay?” He laughed. Okay? How could he be ok? His mother, even though she was so distraught, still respected his wishes to leave the town. Not only that, she had also realized long ago that once he went to the awakening, he wouldn’t come back.

How could he deal with the pain in his heart from seeing such sacrifice? The woman had lost her daughter, now she was at risk of losing her son as well! How could he feel good at having her make such a terrible decision!? His heart felt like it was about to burst with grief… before it all went calm again, tightening to the point where he could barely feel the tightening grief…

Was that the skill he’d just obtained?

Maybe that skill wasn’t such a good idea. “Where is the sword… I’ll take it.” Elizabeth seemed a bit put off, but her eyes were full of so much concern for him that he couldn’t help but smile. “It’s… It’s inside. My father has it, and he wouldn’t give it to me. We waited on you, but you never showed up.”

She chuckled, “It wasn’t until someone said the prince was sitting outside that my father told me to come get you.” He smirked, knowing what that meant. “So my valiant knight has come to take me away?” It was a running joke since the two became close friends. The knight being sent to protect his princess, wasn’t it supposed to be that way instead? How weak must he be to be so dependant on his friend? “D-don’t say it like that! It wasn’t like I wanted to be a knight in the first place, it was just the first… the best class I had.”

He scoffed, the classes were built around your personality. If she hadn’t had such a strong sense of wanting to protect others then she wouldn’t have been given the opportunity to become one. “So, you won’t protect me? I’ll be sad if you say no… The prince could really use a knight right now.” He laughed, standing up before the flustered girl could respond, entering the church. It was silent as the doors opened, him being dead last to enter. The taps of his shoes hitting the ground echoed across the halls as no one dared to speak. Every last one of them had been helped by Elliot at least once, some even up to five times.

They all felt a pang of guilt as the boy who used to have such vibrant eyes slowly made his way to the front of the church. Elizabeth followed him from behind, nervously looking at the crowd as they awkwardly stared back. She’d never been under such scrutiny before, even if it was indirect so he was glad she was still firmly by his side. Elliot kept walking until he spotted the blacksmith, a head taller than anyone else in the church. They didn’t say a word, the big man just handing him the sword.

The weapon was over five feet, and thick and wide enough that the weight made his feet press into the ground with a satisfying pressure. The thing could have been over two hundred pounds. The sword was dark black and engraved along the center of the blade, something Elliot hadn’t asked for. He wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, though. He took it with one arm, balancing the extremely heavy sword in a way so his body wouldn’t fall. He had the vitality stat to thank for his increased weight, allowing him to gain the muscle he had now. Any other day he’d have felt over the moon seeing such a weapon.

Today wasn’t such a day. He nodded and started to take his leave, before the blacksmith grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him. “These too. Take good care of them, I worked damn hard on them.” It was a chest piece, made out of a dark, flexible material that looked like the sword. He wanted to ask, but the silence of the people around him made him realize he’d just been wasting everyone’s time. He quickly made it to the front of the church, sitting in the spot he’d sat last year. Only, this time two vacant spots were beside him.

It had been much like the last time. People would call someone out and the people would cheer. There’d be tension, fear, and plenty of times joy. Elliot didn’t pay attention, looking down at the chest piece given to him by the blacksmith. There must have been a reason to have given him this. Deciding to think nothing of it, he went to put it on, only to realize it had stuck to the massive sword, not budging an inch. He tried tugging on it a bit harder but it fell off the moment he had given the thought for it to separate.

Ah, that’s what it was for. He wore the armor over his own, surprised at how fitting it had been for him despite the lack of measurements. He made sure not to cause a ruckus, however. The less attention on him the better. Kids kept getting called up on stage until eventually, it was his turn. “Elliot… Dresmr.” The priest said, looking down at the boy with a hint of sadness. Elliot stood up, swinging the massive sword around and placing it on his back, letting it adhere to the back of the chest piece he’d been given. Just like he thought, it stuck like a charm.

People gave a few whispers about that, but Elliot paid no attention. Everyone in the city knew about the famous Keyla Dresmr: the sword princess, and the comically named boy, the Nosy prince. Calmly, he stepped up to the platform and looked at the priest, his eyes reflecting the empty, hollow self that he’d grown to accept. This man had given his sister the ability to go off on her own. He would be given that incredible power as well, as well as the curse of knowing he’d never really come back from this. The priest could see Elliot’s eyes and almost took a step back, but eventually persevered.

Placing his hand on Elliot’s head, he closed his eyes and poured magic into his mind. Elliot felt the familiar rush of mana analyzing his brain and gave a relaxed sigh. It was calming, taking away his ability to think. He waited as the priest crumpled his face in worry, and waited even more as the priest instead started looking astonished. The moment the priest opened his eyes, the golden board behind them started shining brightly with words, whizzing past so fast it almost seem dangerous.

The words named class after class, anything made for fighting under the setting sun. Over a hundred classes showed up before the board halted, and Elliot would have had to squint to see any one of the classes. He would have, at least, had there not been one single class down at the bottom of the board. All the classes had either been one or two stars, while only three were four stars. Only one shined above the others, a cruel irony that everyone in the room and himself couldn’t help but see.

He almost didn’t want to pick it, had it not been for the need of power to bring his sister back. In the silence, Elliot let out a deep, sad laugh that echoed around the church. It was full of every negative, bitter emotion he had, and the townsfolk flinched at their poor town saint acting so broken. Nobody in the crowd cheered for the boy, since they all knew just what the name meant. At any other moment, this had probably been something that’d be used to laugh with the one known as the ‘nosy prince’

Hell, that might have been his class title had things been different. His malicious laughter turned into something genuine, as if he alone understood a joke amongst the entire crowd. Elliot, still laughing, pointed at the board with a finger, just as his sister had done two years ago. At the only class with seven stars alongside it. A rarity, one in a hundred million classes… and a mockery of his sadness. He pointed, and spoke.

“The prince… I pick the ‘Lonely Prince’ class.”