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Class: Mash
Chapter 3: Food for Thought

Chapter 3: Food for Thought

Mash stared at the dead body, unable to understand what just happened. It was an accident; he hadn’t meant to kill the boy. It was a single attack, with a weapon that shouldn’t even have been able to kill anyone. It was just a stick, better suited to act as a cane than a weapon. Staring at its broken pieces, he realized it was fine, soon he would be able to use practice weapons like the other kids. Though he didn’t feel like it was an accident. He had been aiming for the boy’s neck, which was unlikely to kill him, but would have ended the fight quickly. Although, he knew that he could have, just as easily, aimed for the boy’s wrist. Ending the fight by disarming him would’ve been just as simple, and he didn’t know why he hadn’t. He didn’t feel like he was vindictive, he didn’t even feel particularly angry with the boy. There was a bit of anger, but it was directed towards the knight.

As he was contemplating why he had aimed for such a vital location, he realized that he currently didn’t feel anything for the boy. There was no joy or regret. Despite killing the boy, he didn’t care much. Thinking on it now, he didn’t even know who the boy was. He didn’t know his name. Recognizing the boy’s face, he thought on his last encounter with the boy. In the past, the boy had approached Mash plenty, but he could remember one moment vividly.

It was a while ago when he was at his favorite park. Its where he usually went to train and do exercises. After lunch he went for a run before stopping at the park. He let himself fall unconscious there since nobody ever entered it. It wasn’t very big and was just a small field with a shallow pond in the middle. Dragonflies would buzz about the park, so most people avoided it. People foolishly believing that they were sacred or dangerous. They were called dragonflies after all. That day though, he was interrupted by three other kids. They had intruded on his territory, but he heard them before they entered. He woke quickly, getting up to face the newcomers. Most people tended to avoid him, and he hoped that they would leave once they saw him. They didn’t though, taunting him when they saw him. He remembered the boys calling him a coward.

Refusing to back down, he had raised his weapon to fight the boy. The boy was more prepared though, carrying a training sword on his waist. He wasn’t supposed to be allowed to do that, meaning that his father had given it to him. Mash’s father would never break the rules though, so all he had was a stick. That didn’t make him back down though, he had been using the stick for a while now and believed it could handle a few attacks from the boy.

Trying to get the jump on the boy, he took the initiative and attacked first. Swinging his weapon at the boy’s side, it met with his own sword. The boy having used a skill to move unnaturally quickly, Mash could tell from the slight glow that came from the sword. His stick shattered from the blow, not able to stop the blow in the slightest. It hit his arm, and he felt a sharp pain shoot up his arm. Losing his weapon, he did the one thing he knew he could beat the boy at and ran away. They couldn’t catch him, but he heard the word coward clearly. It cut through him, and he felt tears falling from his eyes. The worst part of that encounter had been the truth in the boy’s words. It was after that encounter that he stopped running away, regardless of who he was fighting or what he was carrying. Only now did he realize that they were the same people, and the boy from then was the one he killed.

Mash had never bothered learning anything about the boy. Having been preoccupied with raising his stats, He hadn’t spent much time with the other kids, and at some point, he found that he couldn’t connect with other people. They reminded Mash of someone he could have been, but no longer wanted to be. He stared at the body before him, realizing suddenly that he didn’t regret his actions. It was such a small thing compared to what he had gained. He would get his job advancement a year earlier and could even be offered a class for defeating someone who was a higher level than him, not to mention the improvement to his stats. The improvements made him feel reassured, and for the first time it felt unnatural. Since when did improving become so important to him?

He knew why he kept going, but he didn’t used to feel like this. It didn’t really feel like his own thoughts at first, but the longer he dwelled on it the more it felt familiar. Of course, he would feel better about improving, that was common sense. It was also the only way that he could be with his siblings. His brother had already left for the capital and his would certainly follow. If he wanted to be with them, he would need to get a much better class, and training had been the solution. When he thought of his siblings, he realized some the severity of his actions. Though, this strange lack of feeling at killing the boy made him hesitate slightly. Shouldn’t he feel something? Had he changed or had he always been like this? What would his siblings think?

Mash’s thoughts returned to the scene before him, he had been spacing out after realizing that he had leveled. Having gained a decent number of stats as well, it seemed like fights, or maybe kills, were more likely to raise someone’s stats. He watched as some of the knights ran up to the boy, a few pointedly standing between himself and the boy. Unable to understand their actions, it’s not like the boy was going to get more dead, he tried to find someone to blame. That line of thinking felt both right and wrong to him. This whole thing just felt so pointless, the boy had died before being able to live his life, all because of some stupid arrogance. The knights foolishly let them fight, and had been unprepared to step in. He wanted to glare at them but noticed movement among the crowd.

Some of the knights had parted to let some people through, one of which was his father. He didn’t know the other two that had followed them, but one of them wore the robes of a healer. The healer couldn’t do anything at this point. The boy was dead, he had already gained the experience. He doubted that would have happened if the boy could be revived. Not entirely sure what was going to happen, He just stared at the group as they approached.

Mash had been growing distant from his parents over the last couple of years. They hadn’t kept acting disappointed, rather they had acted like hopeful, burdening him with their expectations. It reminded him of the past, and how his own expectations had disappointed him when he got the runner class. Never feeling like there was a resolution with his parents, he found that he didn’t want to spend as much time around them anymore. He didn’t blame them for not knowing how he felt and would never tell them. Honestly, he didn’t want to burden them anymore, wanting to grow up without them. At least that’s what he told himself.

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Fathers P.O.V

The scene before him was chaos. The professionally trained knights and guards had gathered up in a circle, most of them were panicking rather than acting like they should. Some stood stone-faced, clearly still shocked by the sudden events. There, in the center of the gathered crowd, were four boys. He had heard his son was involved but had not realized what the exact situation was. One glance over the state of the boys told him everything. Having told Mash to never fight while on the knight grounds, he had gone against his specific instructions in fighting the boy. Mash had been getting into fights more often as of late, especially with kids far older than himself. Honestly, it filled him with pride whenever Mash won a fight, knowing that his son was improving and had a bright future.

He knew that his relationship with his son wasn’t the best, but at least he had expected him to listen. Mash had been good about his training, and he thought it would translate to everything else. Giving Mash instructions was difficult though, he wouldn’t listen and always tried to do more. Honestly, seeing that his son was steadily growing in strength had significantly improved his perception of him. Wanting to mend ties between them, he tried to spend more time with his son but that only seemed to make their relationship worse. He was growing up unnaturally fast, probably a result of his abnormal stat growth. Looking at him now, he felt proud of his son.

He wanted to go to Mash, and provide him with some comfort, but looking at Mash’s face he realized that Mash looked normal, like he didn’t need it. Mash looked as though nothing had happened. He had seen shock before, being a military leader would do that, but Mash’s face showed no signs of shock. It reminded him of people with criminal or killer classes, like an assassin. Looking at the other boy, he found what he had expected. One of the forks of the stick was lodged deep into the boy’s head. He was dead, that much was certain.

For an instant, he wondered if Mash had intentionally killed the boy, but cursed himself for the thought. Mash worked hard over the past couple of years and deserved some of his trust now. Mash fought the boy to demonstrate his strength, to teach the kid a lesson. That was alright, most of the knights here would even agree with him. It was only because one of them died that Mash would find himself in trouble. Before he could get closer to Mash, he heard the man next to him scream.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Jason!”

The word came out in a surprisingly high-pitched screech. It was a bellow that could be felt through the ground. He had never seen his coworker in so much distress before. General Russel almost always looked like he was ready for a fight. A glare had been fixed on his face for as long as he had known the man, but now he broke into a crying mess as he held his boy’s lifeless body. The healer had already realized it was too late but checked anyways. He didn’t have the power to revive people but could heal the boy if there was even the tiniest trickle of life. They wouldn’t be that lucky it seemed. As the healer shook his head in defeat, the tension from the group had shifted. Of course, Mash would kill the general’s son, his life would never be easy.

He could feel the anger radiating off Russel and decided to shift slightly to cover Mash. Mash was close to securing his own freedom, to gaining a powerful class. It was up to him to protect his son until he could protect himself. Not missing the motion Russel glared daggers at Mash, speaking before anyone could react.

“You were the one who killed Jason.”

It wasn’t a question, a mere statement, or maybe a judgment. Russel might as well have been breathing fire for all the anger laced within his words.

“Jason, huh.”

His son seemed to be ignoring the tension completely instead speaking calmly, but Russel interrupted him before he could get another word out.

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Mash P.O.V

Mash looked at the scene before him more confused than anything. So that was the general’s son. How was he so weak? Mash had heard that the general’s son was a knight’s apprentice, he should have been far stronger than Mash. He probably even had a combat related skill of some kind, but he was so pathetic. Mash looked at the crying man hold his son for another second before finally looking at his father. His father had been looking back at Mash.

When their eyes met, Mash saw the pain in his father’s face. Or was that disgust? The look lasted only a moment. Then his father turned away moving his sight back to the general on the ground and shifted slightly closer to Mash. The motion reminded Mash of his father’s disappointment, so he directed his gaze to the group of knights around him. Some looked confused, but by now most were looking at him. They had a multitude of expression. Many looked disgusted and a few seemed to be angry. He even noticed the occasional concerned face among the crowd. Everyone though, saw Mash as the killer, finding someone whom they could blame. That much was obvious.

As Mash investigated the faces of the knights before him, did he even begin to feel that something had changed. He was not sad or regretful. Instead, he felt wrong and a little disgusted. He could tell that he wasn’t feeling that way about himself, rather because of the situation in front of him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. The fight was fair, and Mash won because he was deserving. The boy had lost because he wasted his potential despite being given a much better class. Mash felt something there, a better understanding of the wrongness from earlier.

Then he noticed it. It felt like he had been hit over the head, as the realization dawned on him. The boy’s class simply wasn’t better. Mash’s class had been made for catching up. The runner was literally meant to close gaps. Even after he won the fight, he still treated the boy’s class as being above his, but that didn’t make any sense to him now. Why was everyone so adamant about knights and heroes being such superior classes? Sure, they gave a decent number of stats, but any class could gain stats early by working hard. In fact, most people spent their youth doing just that. That was what most people did when they wanted to improve or change their class, although that was typically commoners.

Everything fell into place then. The class never really mattered; it was just a means to gain skills and levels. The name, and even the stats to some extents were mostly irrelevant. Mash remembered scouring his book and seeing how a lot of advanced classes would give highly unique skills. It never tiered one class above another, and almost always mentioned use cases for the skills listed. After spending so long focused on his stats, he had thought that was the most important aspect for classes. Everyone he knew judged classes by the number of stats you gained from the class. Mash just couldn’t figure out why. Sure, stats were good, but Mash was certain some classes would be able to ignore a simple difference in strength or dexterity. So why did people insist that classes be defined like that? Mash kept trying to come up with a reason, but continually seemed to be running around the answer.

“You were the one who killed Jason.”

The words were spoken so loudly that they broke Mash from his train of thoughts. He realized that he was looking at the general, and that the man was speaking to him. He thought about what the man had said.

“Jason, huh.”

Mash only realized he had spoken once he saw the man’s face darken further. He was honestly surprised the general could squeeze more emotion into his face. It took a second, but Mash realized what he had just said. He panicked then, looking around trying to find a way out, when he couldn’t find one, his eyes settled on his father. Mash hoped that his father would do something, but he just wore a helpless expression.

“Detain him.”

Mash could hear the words ring in his head and thought that the general must have used a skill. The knights immediately moved to capture Mash, that finally seemed to shake his father out of his stupor.

“Russel, don’t you think you should ca—” His father couldn’t even get the words out.

“Calm down! Your boy killed my son without even knowing his name! His! Name!”

The last few words had coming out much louder than the rest, he was yelling at this point and Mash began to think that he would draw his blade. By now Mash was firmly within the grasp of the knights and wouldn’t be able to defend himself even if he wanted. Lingering on his previous thoughts, he felt like he was close to something but couldn’t put his finger on what.

When the general’s hand fell to his pommel, the panic set in. All the emotion he had been lacking before revealing itself now. It was raging far beyond normal, even more than he thought he could muster. Changing from feeling nothing to extreme panic, shook Mash’s mind making it harder to focus. He didn’t want to die. Not now. Feeling his body tense up even before the sword came his way, He held his stomach to stop himself from throwing up and realized it was becoming harder to breathe.

When he noticed the knights loosen their grips, he was tempted to run. Apparently, he was staring at the ground because this gesture had made him lift his head. Wanting to see what changed, he looked to the general, noticing that the general didn’t seem as angry as before. His father managing to calm him down. Mash tried to look at the knights but realized that his vision was getting blurry. He was crying, when did he start crying? Was he that much of a coward that he couldn’t face the consequences of his own actions? That thought sickened Mash more than anything else, he would not be a coward. It was that thought, that made him throw up.

“Take him to the dungeons! We will handle his judgement later.”

The general seemed to have gathered his composure and spoke the words with the authority that Mash would expect from a general. Giving it a tiny amount of his attention as he tried to regain control of his stomach he watched as the knights opened around the group. His father looked like he wanted to protest but refrained after sharing a look with the general, and the knights moved immediately leading Mash to the dungeons.

He went to the training grounds often, but never actually went to the fort itself. He was not allowed to go inside, so never bothered trying. Now though he was let in through a set of back doors that he had never noticed before. As they entered the building, Mash realized that the fort was made of crystal. Originally. he thought it was made of stone, but once inside he could see how the light passed through some sections of the wall. Gasping a little, he was led down a set of stairs and realized the walls, floors, and ceilings were covered in intricate rune work. Was this whole fort one enormous mana crystal? What enchantments would even require a crystal this large? Mash was flooded with questions, but those quickly died as he realized where the dungeons were.

The dungeons, he seemed to be going to, were entirely separate from the fort itself. It seemed to have been dug into the dirt and had none of the awe that the main fort had. No crystal or engravings along the walls, just simple stone cells. There was no light source. One of the knights having grabbed a candle, lead them as they went further into the dungeon. Mash’s room was simple. More a pen for animals than humans, it had a single hole in the corner to use as the bathroom and a slightly elevated mound of dirt with a simple blanket to act as the bed. The knights reassured him that he would only be here for a short time and left. Then Mash was left alone in the cell. As the knights got further away, the darkness swelled till there was nothing left but his thoughts. Well, he did have a lot to think about.

He didn’t know what to do with his time at first, just lying on the bed, as he tried to fall asleep. It didn’t come and he found himself sitting and staring into the darkness. Instead, he tried meditating, finding it surprisingly easy to feel the mana around him. The fort seemed to make the mana thicker, and his meditation felt more beneficial than normal. It took more of his attention, letting him forget about where he was. Feeling a little gratification at the meditations, he checked his stats regularly watching when his wisdom stat rose. It happened so quickly, or at least he thought it had been quick, but couldn’t tell. Ever since he started training and saw improvements, he felt driven to work harder. It became a necessity, improving was the only thing his class did, and he wanted to make the most of it.