"Have you heard the latest? Lord Cedric's been exercising a lot lately," shared one farmer to another as they tended to the crops under the sun.
"Yeah, ever since he came back from that kidnapping, people say he's a changed man," his fellow worker replied, wiping his brow.
Over at the market, a woman chatted while picking out vegetables, "He's shed so much weight so quickly! I keep telling my husband to take a leaf out of his book."
Her friend laughed as she chose some fruit, "Well, I sent my hubby to train with him this morning. Bet that'll slim down his tummy in no time!"
As they spoke, the town guards marched by, their morale sky-high, striding with a confident, upright posture. Overhearing the villagers, smiles flickered across their faces.
In the barracks, a curious guard pondered, "Isn't our lord a mage? Why's he training in sword fighting with the guards every dawn?"
Another guard leaned in, "Rumor has it he lost his magic when he was captured."
"Stop gossiping," a third guard interjected sharply. "He was taken by swordsmen, right? Even with his magic, they beat him and us. Now he's picking up the sword to beef up his fighting skills."
"Ah, that does make sense," the others nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, out in the fields, a man ran with determination, his shirt cast aside. Yet, despite already running for two hours, he showed no signs of stopping.
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System will allocate 90% resources on investigation
Backchannels to GAL-NDR-1A Datacenter is maintained.
System failover initiated
Failover Status
10%
35%
46%
74%
82%
93%
99%
100%
Fail-@#$@#%^
...
...
I woke up a couple of days ago in Cedric's body again. The smell of his sweat was so strong it kept me awake. I quickly asked Dorian to draw a bath for me. But I noticed other things were off – the system that I relied on had crashed during a failover. This left me with two big problems: I no longer had the system's analysis tools at my disposal, and I was exposed to danger without them.
Without the ability to use Cedric's magic – because I didn't know how – I decided to focus on physical strength. The fitter and more agile I became, the less I would get hurt. I had to forget about the reckless way I used to fight.
Taking out a dagger, Cedric nicked his finger. The blood came out, but the wound didn't heal itself.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Looks like I'm stuck in this world a bit longer," he muttered. "Maybe I can be of use to that princess after all." He thought about Elara. "I wonder if she'd be interested in me as I am now, or should I wait until I can be myself again?"
Weeks passed...
Today, I managed to run a full 10 kilometers. That's progress, especially with this overweight body. I couldn't dive into a tough routine immediately; I had to start slow with intermittent fasting and moderate exercise, gradually pushing my limits.
Since I couldn't figure out how to use Cedric's magic, I started relearning how to handle a sword. Now, with my daily workout over, it was time to deal with lordly duties. If I was going to take over someone's life, I might as well do it right.
"Good morning, my lord. You wanted to see me?" Dorian entered, bowing respectfully.
"Yes, Dorian. I'd like the weekly report on town affairs. Tell me if anything unusual has happened, any word on the people who kidnapped me, and whether there's news of the King's men coming," I instructed, settling into the role of a lord with all its responsibilities.
Dorian straightened, a sheaf of papers in hand. “Indeed, my lord. The week has been relatively peaceful, though there are murmurs of discontent from the merchant's quarter. As for your abductors, no news has surfaced. However, riders bearing the King’s crest were spotted at the crossroads this morn. We await his arrival and the tidings he brings.”
Cedric fixed a steady gaze on Dorian, the morning light casting long shadows in the chamber. "Dorian, about those who took me — let's not consider them as villains. Without their intervention, I might not have survived."
Dorian's eyebrows knit together in a frown. "But sire, any harm that came your way was at their hands, was it not?" he protested.
A pause hung in the air as Cedric's voice took on a grave tone. "We must acknowledge our own missteps, Dorian. We wrongfully incarcerated them first. Under similar circumstances, I would have acted no differently," he stated, his expression unreadable, carved from stone.
Dorian's face was a tapestry of conflict, but he dipped his head in a slow nod, signaling his acquiescence.
Cedric's next words carried the weight of his authority. "And regarding the King's emissaries — extend them every courtesy, but be prudent. Any questions they have about the princess and her allies should be deflected. I will personally handle such inquiries."
Dorian straightened, his posture a testament to his discipline. "As you command, my Lord," he said, bowing deeply.
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After Elijah Moonshadow's utter defeat in the dungeon incident, the newly appointed Knights commander went back to report the findings of the dungeon to the new King. However, to his surprise, he was already made aware of the dungeon.
He surmised that the new king's awareness of his territory was in contrast with former king who was just an old man who lived a leisurely life. Despite the coup, he felt the new king was far more competent.
"I will introduce to my shadow - Come out" the King ordered.
From the shadowed corner of the grand hall, a figure emerged, his presence as heavy as the air before a storm. Each step was measured, the echo of his boots against the marble floor cutting through the silence. The man was a living tapestry of battle, his body marred with the tales of countless skirmishes. Scars etched a map of survival on his skin, and his eyes, though weary, burned with an undimmed ferocity.
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His right arm, a masterwork of engineering and art, was forged from the same ominous metal that constituted the fearsome metal beasts. The limb gleamed with a dark sheen, intricate runes and gears adorning its surface, pulsing with a strange energy. It was not simply a replacement but a trophy, a clear declaration of his victories against those monstrous titans. To wear such a piece was not only to bear the weight of the metal but the weight of the triumphs and tragedies it represented.
"I am called Blackthorne" He said.
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Several days passed
As dawn broke, the wilderness awakened to the symphony of nature: trees swaying rhythmically to the gentle breeze, birds serenading the morning light, and predators embarking on their relentless pursuit for sustenance. Amidst this primal dance, a unique rabbit, adorned with a solitary horn, darted through the underbrush in a frantic bid for survival. Pursued by a wolf-like beast, it zigzagged desperately, its life hanging by a thread. In a moment of sheer instinct, the rabbit aimed for the sanctuary beyond a dense thicket, hoping against hope to evade its pursuer.
It surged through the bushes, only to be met with an unexpected fate. A bolt, swift and silent, found its mark in the rabbit's neck. The assailant, a man shrouded in shadows, emerged from his hide. Dressed in dark garments that blended with the predawn dim, he was the epitome of a hunter at the apex of the food chain. Stepping off his position with a composed demeanor, he approached his quarry.
"Easy now... thank you for the meal," Blackthorne murmured with a respectful nod to the cycle of life and death. With practiced hands, he dispatched the creature with his dagger, efficiently skinned it, and packed the meat into a satchel. The pelt and other valuable materials were carefully stored in his enchanted storage ring, leaving the remnants – the intestines and other inedible parts – as a gift back to the jungle, where other creatures would find their sustenance.
"We're going into the dungeon, based on the King's command." Elijah began, his tone a mix of resolve and concern.
"Yes, but I doubt we'll encounter the white, slender man again. After our last encounter, I don't think he remains there. My guess is, that he accompanies the former princess." Blackthorne replied, his eyes reflecting a mix of hope and caution.
"That's a relief, but it doesn't make the dungeon any less daunting. I've battled those metal monsters outside; never ventured in." Elijah admitted, seeking some reassurance.
"Venturing inside is a different ordeal. The creatures there... they're strong but still manageable out in open. Closed quarters, different story. But without him, we might have a chance to explore deeper, uncover what we're meant to find." Blackthorne explained, trying to instill confidence.
"I can't imagine what it was like for you, facing him, losing your arm..." Elijah said, glancing at Blackthorne's metal limb.
"It was a nightmare, but escaping with my life gave me perspective. We're going in prepared this time, with or without him lurking in the shadows." Blackthorne declared, his voice firm as he rubbed his enchanted storage ring.
"So, the King believes there's something else down there, something worth our investigation?" Elijah questioned, looking for clarity on their mission.
"Exactly. Whatever's hidden in the depths of that dungeon, it's important enough to warrant this risk. We'll need to be cautious, methodical." Blackthorne advised, outlining their approach.
"Preparing for the unknown, then. But at least without the white man, we can focus on the other threats, find what we're looking for without looking over our shoulders." Elijah pondered, trying to find the silver lining.
"We still can't let our guard down. The dungeon is a maze of dangers, but we're not going in blind. We have each other's backs." Blackthorne reassured, placing a hand on Elijah's shoulder.
"Knowing the ex-master of the assassins' guild has my back does add a touch of comfort," Elijah quipped with a smirk.
He then shifted the conversation, his tone growing more contemplative. "I do wonder, though, if this newly formed Black Order by the King will manage to track down the former princess, Roland, Albert, and Elara. And if that white man is with them, their task might prove even more formidable."
Blackthorne's expression hardened, his resolve clear. "Hmph! True, but venturing into this dungeon is another step towards my readiness to confront that ghast. If the King chooses to deploy others for the task, so be it. My sole purpose now is to vanquish that white specter."
Elijah, sensing Blackthorne's intense determination, nodded in understanding. "Seeing your drive, it's clear why we're braving this perilous dungeon. Your focus gives our mission a sharper edge.
"Be aware, the individual the King is dispatching isn't known for his prowess in battle but for his exceptional intellect. He excels at unraveling the smallest details, typically serving as a diplomat or spy in foreign lands. Given the complexity of our situation, the King has decreed that this man help in tracking the former princess and her companions and then arrest them using the local guards."
"Arrest them? Why would they willingly let themselves be captured by someone who isn't a fighter?" Elijah questioned, puzzled by the strategy.
"It's because he's relentless. No matter how far you flee, he'll track you down, disrupt your schemes. Roland might not resort to killing him, given his nature, but the white man... that's a different story. And who knows, maybe it's for the best that my rival, that Raven, meets his end at the hands of that fiend." Blackthorne chuckled darkly, finding a grim sense of amusement in the thought.
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As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, a man and his companions, cloaked in the dust of their travels, rode steadily through the untamed wilderness. Their steeds, majestic creatures with coats as black as the night that was slowly enveloping the world, moved with a grace that belied the urgency of their journey. The rhythmic beat of hooves against the earth and the occasional snort and neigh from the horses punctuated the silence of the fading day.
The group, led by a man whose eyes held stories untold, approached a village that seemed to emerge from the wilderness like a mirage. The village, with its thatched roofs and smoke curling up from chimneys, offered a picturesque scene of rustic tranquility. As they entered, the villagers stopped their evening chores to gaze at these strangers, curiosity lighting up their faces.
The leader, dismounting with the ease of one well accustomed to the saddle, approached a group of villagers gathered by a well. His voice, calm and commanding, broke the evening's quiet.
"Good folk, we seek directions to Havenbrook. And any news of recent events there would be of great interest to us," he inquired, his gaze sweeping over the assembled villagers, who exchanged glances, murmuring among themselves before one stepped forward.
"Aye, travelers, Havenbrook lies a day's ride to the east. But the tales from there... ah, they are strange indeed," the villager began, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and disbelief. "The lord of Havenbrook, he was taken, they say, by companions of the former princess. Yet, upon his return, he was not the same man."
The leader's interest piqued, he urged the villager to continue, "Different, you say? How so?"
The villager, warming to his tale, elaborated, "Aye, different. Before, he was distant, concerned more with his own affairs. But now, he's like a lord reborn. He walks among us, listens to our woes, and addresses them as if they were his own. The people of Havenbrook, they say they've never known a better lord. One who cares for every village, every soul, as if they were his kin."
The man and his companions listened intently, absorbing the tale of transformation that seemed as fantastical as any legend. The leader nodded thoughtfully, a slight smile playing on his lips as if the story confirmed something he had long suspected.
"Thank you for your words. They paint a picture of a man changed, not just in demeanor but in spirit. It is a rare thing, to hear of power wielded with such care," he mused aloud, his voice carrying a note of respect.
"So the Lord captured the Princess and her companions and thy escaped by abducting him... you have disappointed me Sir Roland" Raven mumbled.
'Or perhaps it was due to the white man they briefed me about, a dungeon monster that accompanies them?' he thought.
'I will try to reason with them first' Raven decided.
As Raven approached the town of Havenbrook, the first rays of dawn cast a golden glow over its fortified walls. The town was an impressive sight, encircled by robust stone ramparts, punctuated by sturdy, cylindrical towers capped with conical roofs. The battlements, a testament to Havenbrook's strategic importance, were bustling with the morning routines of the guards.
The gates of Havenbrook stood open, inviting travelers and merchants into its embrace. Once through the arched entrance, Raven found himself on bustling streets lined with half-timbered houses, their gabled roofs offering charming silhouettes against the softening sky. The central square boasted a grander scale of architecture, with a prominent, multi-story building that commanded attention with its intricate woodwork and a spacious courtyard that spoke of communal gatherings and proclamations.
The air was rich with the scents of fresh bread and blooming flowers, emanating from the market stalls and the well-tended gardens that peppered the town. The townsfolk moved with a purposeful energy, their faces reflecting the contentment of a community well cared for.
Raven noted the meticulously arranged plots of land within the walls, where crops grew in neat rows, a sign of the town's self-sufficiency and the lord's attention to the welfare of his people. Small workshops with open doors revealed the town's thriving crafts, with the sounds of metalwork and woodworking mingling with the calls of vendors and the laughter of children.
As he moved deeper into Havenbrook, Raven observed the care taken in maintaining the town's infrastructure, the cleanliness of the streets, and the orderliness of its layout. The sense of security and prosperity was palpable, a stark contrast to the turmoil that often gripped the realm.
At the heart of Havenbrook stood the lord's manor, a magnificent structure with a towering central spire that overlooked the town. Its design was both defensive and elegant, a physical embodiment of the lord's role as both protector and patron.
Raven, now within the town's rhythm of life, knew that the harmony he witnessed was no accident. It was the result of deliberate efforts, a reflection of a changed man who had returned not to dominate but to serve.
"I like this guy already" Raven continued walking towards the Lord's manor with a smile on his face.