For a long moment, Rowan did nothing but breathe. His hands were glued to the spear. He relished the ease in which he could feel his body and marvelled at the way he could track the movement of each muscle. He was in control. That, of course, was when he got bonked.

“I’m not here to stand around and watch you breathe, lad,” Kayden said as he pulled a wooden stick back. “Get your head on straight. Now, there will be no swinging that spear at Jacob here. What I want you to do is go through the footwork exercises with him again. See how they feel.”

It felt amazing. Better than amazing. Even when Jacob added new motions to the routines, Rowan only slipped up a handful of times. His legs seemed to have a mind of their own, moving to the right spot before Rowan consciously gave the command. His body also began to remember the motions. If it took ten repetitions to get a motion right in the past, it now only took two or three.

By the end of the session, Rowan was heaving lungfuls of air. In spite of that, his grin threatening to split his face.

“Stop that, right now.” Kayden’s voice was harsh, cold enough that it snapped Rowan right out of his good mood. “I’ve seen that look before. Young men get their first card, and they feel invincible. What you’re practicing are the bare-bones basics. Children learn how to do that.”

Anger bubbled up in Rowan’s chest and he lashed out. “Then why bother teaching me how to do it?”

“Just because they’re taught to children doesn’t make them unimportant. The footwork lessons that Jacob taught you will be the foundation that everything else is built upon,” Kayden said as he waved Jacob away. “But I won’t let you get a big head. You’ll get popped by the first monster that comes along. Now, come here. Bring the spear along.”

Rowan regretted snapping at Kayden. Still, he let out a heavy puff of air before he followed.They settled down in front of the baron’s tent, and he motioned his men to disperse.

“Is that smart?” At a questioning look from the baron, Rowan clarified. “I mean… I have a spear. You don’t have a weapon at all.” And it was true, the man had set his sword inside the tent, and hadn’t bothered to wear it after they made camp.

Rowan expected several different possible answers. What he didn’t expect was for the baron to break out into laughter.

“Lad, I could stand in front of you in my undergarments, and you wouldn’t be able to scratch me. You’ve felt what those stats you’ve been getting are doing to you. Now, imagine the stats a former duke has. Imagine what a combat Heart Card might be able to do. Or my full deck, for that matter.”

“I get it,” Rowan mumbled.

Kayden raised a hand. “No, you really do not. And that is normal. You asked why the knights seemed so weak. Here’s another answer. They weren’t used to being so weak, to lose their system stats and cards. You haven’t felt the benefits of the system, not really, and so you don’t know what that feels like. Everyone who enters the palace feels as naked as a newborn baby.”

“All the more reason to leave,” Rowan said.

“More than that, there are no records of a hero ever coming to us from a world operating under a system,” Kayden said. He motioned to the broader world. “It’s strange, to think that people could live in a world without a system.”

That bothered Rowan. A lot. Not simply because he was apparently leagues weaker than the baron, but also because he didn’t understand a thing about the system.

“What is it? The system?” Rowan asked.

“No one really knows. It was there as long as things began existing. I can tell you this. From the lowliest monster to the greatest of the gods, we all use the same system,” Kayden said.

At that, Rowan blinked in disbelief. “Wait, you’re saying…”

The baron grinned. “Yes, just like you and me, the gods, too, are system users. Now, they’re as far beyond me as I am beyond you. But if you know which texts to reference, you’ll find that quite a few of our gods were not as divine once upon a time.”

“But, if anyone can become a god, then why do you worship them?” Rowan asked.

“When did I say anyone can do it, lad?” Kayden said. “Do you really think that all you need is a Heart Card, a weapon in hand, and enough experience to fill your levels? It’s much harder than that. If you want to upgrade your class rarity tier, you need the right catalyst. Or the right heart card.”

That caught Rowan’s attention. “A heart card is helpful for that? And what’s a class? Or a catalyst for that matter?”

“The tier of your heart card determines how far you can climb without obstruction. Class rarity are divided every twenty levels. A Common Heart Card means that you’ll find trouble reaching level twenty, which is the domain of Uncommon classes,” Kayden said.

“But my Epic Heart Card means that I can reach level eighty without trouble,” Rowan said.

“Level seventy-nine,” Kayden corrected. “Each class comes with a class card. An Uncommon class gives you an Uncommon card for your deck. And a catalyst is… a trophy. One that you can get by slaying an enemy of the appropriate level, rarity, and strength. It’s what you must do, to move past the limitations of your Heart Card,” Kayden answered.

“I know people were excited about our cards. Well, Kayla and Blake’s cards,” Rowan said. “But… how rare are Epic cards, really?”

“The Heart Cards of heroes are always Epic,” Kayden said. “Commoners can, at best, hope for an Uncommon for their Heart Card. Most will get Common cards.”

Rowan wasn’t sure he liked the implications. “What about nobles, then?”

“There is a component of inheritance when awakening a Heart Card. The higher your parents have climbed, the better your card will be. Most nobles will awaken to an Uncommon card. Royal offspring most often get Epics. Both have the potential to awaken a tier higher. Of course, inheriting a Heart Card directly before they are awakened is an option too.”

“Directly?” Rowan asked, he had half a mind to pull up his system screen and read everything over again. “When I got my card, the system prompt said that it was bound to me.”

“Slaying a cardholder gives you the chance to claim one of their cards. For most nobles, if they know that death is coming, they will… expedite things, and ensure that some part of their deck is passed onto their descendants,” Kayden said.

“So, nobles just keep getting stronger, then?” Rowan asked.

“Correct. This is why the age of a kingdom is an important thing to keep in mind. No one knows how many high tier cards old kingdoms might have hidden away. Or what they might do with them, if pushed too far.”

For a long few moments, the two of them sat in silence. Rowan was certain he disliked what he’d heard. Card hoarding reeked of classism. He decided to ask another question to distract himself. “Why do all heroes get Epic cards, then?”

“I’ll be honest with you, lad, no one knows for certain,” Kayden said.

“But, there’s been how many heroes before?” Rowan asked. “You made me listen to the various noble lineages and how many of them claim to be related to heroes, too! How can no one know?”

“You saw the message when you got your card. The system evaluates everything about you. Some people argue that there’s something about summoned heroes’ worlds that nurture the conditions the system values better. Others argue that the ritual simply reaches out and catches only the souls deemed ‘worthy,’ and that other souls in your world would follow the average of ours just as consistently.” Kayden paused as his face twitched. “It is not spoken of very often. But, once in a blue moon, a commoner might be able to awaken to an Epic card.”

“So, we’re just the lucky ones?” Rowan asked.

Kayden shrugged. “There are those who claim that the summoning itself is what gives you the advantage. After all, it is a fact that all heroes… well…” The baron’s voice trailed off as he looked away. “Never mind. The important thing is that every hero gets an exceptional card. Yes, even you. The inherent value of an Epic card, especially a hero’s card, is much greater than you can imagine.”

The two of them stared at a nearby campfire for a few minutes before they retreated to their own tents. Before the night ended, Kayden promised Rowan that his training would be kicked up a notch. And that he’d actually learn how to use the weapon he was stuck with.

—

It was an unusual turn of events, to say the least.

Over the next few days, Kayden took over the training for Rowan, citing that none of his men were spear wielders but that his expertise would let him make do.

At first, Rowan thought of this as an upgrade over the hellish training that Jacob put him through. He was wrong. The baron taught only a single move. Set, thrust, and shuffle to repeat the motion with a different dominant hand. Supposedly, the hand swapping was crucial in battle by changing the angle of attack.

Finally, when Rowan got bored by repeating the same motion thousands of different times, he made the mistake of trying out a grand sweep, imagining the swing shattering the defense of his enemies and cutting them in half.

Before he knew it, he was lying on his back.

“If you’re looking to get yourself killed, there are easier ways of doing than trying to use your spear like a club. The spear is powerful, but if you do big moves like that, a monster is going to find your gaps and tear open your throat,” Kayden said. “Like I did.”

As Rowan got back to his feet, he wondered if all the children in this new world were trained like this.

“The power of the spear is that it’s a versatile weapon. You can use it as a makeshift staff in an emergency,” Kayden continued. “But once again, you need to build your foundation. The point of a spear is to stab its pointy bit into your enemy, not use it like some other weapon. Right now, you don’t have the stats or the skills to try anything other than the simple thrust.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

After that, Rowan stuck to what he was taught religiously.

Surprisingly, he could feel himself making progress long after the motions had become ingrained into his mind, body, and soul. The thrusts were becoming a hair quicker, and there were somehow still a couple of extra movements that he could cut down on. In the words of the baron himself, Rowan wasn’t flailing the spear mindlessly now. Instead, he was flailing it with some idea of how to stab someone other than himself.

Rowan would have been content to continue this way until they arrived at their destination. But exactly a week into their journey, a bit past the point when he’d been informed that they had already entered the baron’s holdings, they came across a group of harried field workers rushing down the road.

To Rowan’s untrained eyes, it looked like the workers were running to get lunch. But Kayden stretched his head out of his carriage and signaled for Jacob to ride ahead and catch up with the farmers.

When Jacob came back, Kayden dipped his head to hear the report. A couple moments later, he pulled his body back into the carriage with a contemplative look on his face.

It was bad news. Rowan had become fluent in the baron’s facial expressions, especially this one, since it so often led to some kind of escalation in his training, or a particularly unreasonable request. The baron had the same expression before Rowan was suggested to try some innovative stretching, also known as obscure torture methods, that led to his seventh point in dexterity.

“It seems we’re fortunate, lad,” Kayden said. His grin was positively radiant, but it only chilled Rowan’s bones. “These fine folk here have a demon problem in their fields, and you are going to sort it out for them.”

—

Rowan wasn’t exactly forcibly marched down the road to his impending fate, but he wasn’t given much of a chance to wiggle out of what was coming either. He’d barely managed a squeaky ‘what’ before the baron pushed him out of the carriage.

“What exactly am I fighting?” It was only thanks to the spear in his hand that Rowan had enough presence of mind to open his mouth again. Still, he hated the way that his voice warbled and he couldn’t help but remember the memories of being swarmed by a group of knights bent on killing him.

“Just a couple of corrupted animals,” Kayden said in an offhand manner. “A trio of boars. They slipped past the frontier border, and now they’re threatening people’s livelihood. Can’t exactly leave such things alone, can you, hero?”

“Boars,” Rowan repeated. He dearly hoped the animals were the same as the ones he was familiar with. There were stories and videos online about how deadly these animals could be, but for a first opponent, they sounded much less threatening than dragons or wyverns. “Three of them.”

“You’ll do fine. Remember what I taught you in the last few days. The only reason these boars are here is because they didn’t warrant being hunted down.”

“Why not?” Rowan asked. Anything was better than focusing directly on what was to come.

“The frontier stops any powerful monsters, demons, or corrupted beasts. If any strong ones do manage to cross somehow, a hunting party is dispatched,” Kayden said as he twirled his finger in the air. “This is well in line with what local militia can handle. And you’re a hero. It’s going to be a walk in the park.”

A new hero. Brand new, level zero! Rowan knew better than to contradict Kayden. For starters, he now trusted the baron. Despite all of the tortuous mental and physical training, Rowan now knew the man as someone fairly even heeled. If he thought something was doable, it was usually possible, even if the process left Rowan sore for the next two days. And compared to before, Rowan now had a bit more training with the spear. That has to count for something.

On impulse, Rowan brought up his status screen.

Rowan Clairfont

Level 0 Unclassed (+)

EXP: N/A

Mana: 40/40

STR: 7

VIT: 9

DEX: 7

PER: 7

INT: 8

WIS: 8

Deck (1/4):

* [Heart] Keen Spear (Epic)

Blessings:

* Blessing of the Stalwart Hero

The training, both physical and mental, had worked. His stats showed improvements across the board. The only part of his screen that bothered him was the insistent blinking of the plus sign next to his unclassed status. But the baron had assured him that it was something to worry about once he hit ten in all stats.

Rowan began making his way forward with his spear. He was so taken by his thoughts that he almost missed the fact that no footsteps accompanied his own. But that was fine. He was a hero, and he would fight like one.

The closer Rowan got to the affected fields, the more apparent the problem got. The noises the boars made were high-pitched and angry. He’d be lucky if the noises didn’t give him nightmares in the future.

Finally, Rowan found them. The three boars were not perfectly clumped together. Of the group, two were a decent distance away while the last one was rooting through a vegetable patch of some kind, less than fifty paces away.

Up close, Rowan could see that the corrupted boar was an ugly thing. Its body was a twisted mass of angry muscles, accented by the occasional clumps of fur that clung on. The worst part was its tusk, rough and blunted. This wasn’t a creature that relied on precise strikes but rather brute strength. It probably hadn’t met an opponent it couldn’t overpower yet.

And Rowan was about to fight it.

Tightening his grip, Rowan snuck forward, hoping to score a hit without going face to face with the monster. The gods didn’t smile on him. About ten steps away, Rowan’s luck ran out. The boar suddenly grunted and whipped its face in Rowan’s direction.

The two stared mutely at each other for what felt like an eternity. The boar was the first to ruin things. It opened its jaws and screeched.

What kind of monster has teeth like that and still eats vegetables?

The boar’s mouth reminded Rowan of a shark’s rather than a boar’s. Rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth lined both the top and bottom. The perfect meat grinder. Rowan didn’t want to find out how it’d feel to get bit.

The monster tensed up when it realized that Rowan wasn’t going to flee. It ended its screech and kicked back its legs. After a moment to gain traction in the soft dirt, it began rocketing forward.

Rowan planted his feet in the stable ground of the road and braced his spear. If he was right, then the beast didn’t have much maneuverability. Its speed was working against it.

As the boar came into reach, Rowan thrust his spear forward, sidestepping as he did. The attack worked as intended, leveraging the beast’s momentum to rake across its side in a long, jagged line. But the boar showed surprising agility, twisting its head at the last second and catching Rowan’s shirt with its tusk. The momentum carried Rowan in the direction of the beast’s charge. Thankfully, he managed to regain his balance before the boar’s next charge.

Behind Rowan, more screeching sounded, and he risked a glance to find the other two boars speeding his direction.

Not good.

Rowan bit into his lower lip, hard, and tasted copper. He couldn’t afford to be hemmed in from both sides.

When the original boar drew closer, Rowan decided to change tacks. Instead of thrusting downwards, he held his spear low, practically planting the back end of his spear in the ground and angling it upwards. The boar kept charging.

Five steps. Four. Three. Two.

Rowan stood his ground. His heart began beating so loud that he could barely hear anything else. One.

He could see the blood in the boar’s eyes as he jumped to the left. The delay was expensive. A tusk grazed Rowan’s side and he felt a force lift him into the air before being dumped on the ground.

It took several painful seconds for Rowan to hoist himself upright. Even breathing was a chore. He strongly suspected his ribs were cracked, but he forced himself to stumble towards the now stationary boar.

The end of the spear had dug a shallow path in the road, driven into the dirt by the momentum of the boar’s charge. Luckily, the weapon had done its job. The boar was squealing and twitching on its side. Its hooves were kicking up dirt, but it wasn’t a threat anymore. Especially since the tip of Rowan’s spear was lodged deep in its chest.

One down. Two more.

Rowan had no clue how long he had until the other boars were on him. Pushing his broken body, he fumbled at the spear’s shaft, struggling to pull it out of the beast’s chest.

“Careful!” Kayden’s voice came just in time for Rowan to dive to the side and narrowly avoid a pair of nasty tusks that were about to skewer him. Even better, his spear had come free in the struggle.

“I got it,” Rowan yelled back as he felt his training kick in. Set, thrust, shuffle. The third boar shrieked in surprise when Rowan aimed a well-placed thrust to its side, drawing blood but not much else.

As Rowan moved, he positioned the fallen boar behind himself. It limited the attack angles from the other two. When the second boar came rushing in, he repeated the same sequence and sent it squealing back with a new wound.

From there, the battle became grueling. The boars would dance forward and Rowan would have to send them back with a thrust. Each contraction of his chest’s muscles sending a fresh wave of agony through him.

Slowly, Rowan began to understand his opponents. One of the boars was clearly more interested in self-preservation, but the other was in a rage, charging again and again only to be stymied by Rowan’s spear or get tripped up by the carcass.

It was in that moment that Rowan realized the value of Keen Spear. Despite the pain, risk of death, and truly ugly monsters, Rowan kept his calm. He exploited the anger of the boar, landing precise strikes that seemed to hit an artery each time. When the beast finally fell after what felt like hundreds of different wounds, Rowan even had the energy to give a small smile.

The final boar glanced at its two dead companions and whimpered. It ran away.

Rowan had no strength left for a chase. He tried to loudly taunt the monster, only to see it run away even faster.

Shit, if it gets away, then it might…

Before Rowan could finish that thought, he saw the baron strolling through the farm. And for the first time, Rowan realized why Kayden insisted on repetition and perfection.

When the king had acted to strike down the knight, Rowan had failed to see any movement. For all he knew, it was some kind of royal power that had turned an entire person to mist. Now, when the baron closed the gap between him and the fleeing boar, Rowan could appreciate the strength difference. The man looked like he was just walking but every step was performed without any extra motions and brought him a bit closer to the sprinting monster boar.

His strike was also a lazy thing. Kayden simply brought his sword down, and the boar’s head parted from the rest of its body. Its momentum held true for a couple more seconds, before it collapsed onto the ground.

“Not horrible,” Kayden said, appearing next to Rowan in seconds. He had the same contemplative look on his face as before. “I was hoping you could strike down all three. At least you showed bravery. Oh, what you did was stupid, lad, but certainly brave.”

Rowan’s response was to collapse on his back.

I want to pass out. Please let me pass out.

“None of that now. On your feet.” When Rowan didn’t react quickly enough, an iron grip caught the front of his shirt, pulling him up effortlessly.

“Fine, fine!” Rowan hissed out, stumbling upright.

The baron watched Rowan with wry amusement before offering a vial of red liquid. “Drink that, lad. It’ll make you feel better.”

Grumbling a word of thanks, Rowan took the vial and chugged it down. The liquid was a bit heavy with a hint of sweetness. But when the liquid passed his throat, it transformed into genuine magma. An unbearable heat coiled in Rowan’s chest, then shot down to where his ribs ached. The pain flared, and Rowan was convinced he would pass out. But after a few moments, the heat and pain began to fade, leaving behind a warm, numbing sensation.

“Wh-what was that?” Rowan wheezed.

“You know, you should ask questions like that before accepting a potion from someone. Especially once you meet my daughter,” Kayden said, slapping Rowan on the back. Oddly, he experienced no pain. “That was a healing potion. You’ll feel numb while it works, but you’ll be right as rain in a couple of hours. Better quality draughts work much quicker, but this doesn’t warrant those.”

As the healing potion did its magic, Rowan forced himself to hobble the distance to their carriage and collapsed on its doorstep.

While he panted, half numb and mostly alive, the baron made his way to the field workers who had alerted them to the whole mess. He calmed those who seemed upset and shook the hands of those who had grim lines on their faces. The carcasses of the boars were left to them and quickly butchered on the spot.

The baron also ordered the soldiers out into the fields. Rowan saw why pretty quickly. They came back with bits and pieces of previously alive workers.

Eventually, the carriage began moving again.

As he looked out the window, Rowan began to realize that he had seen more death in the past few days than his entire previous life combined. In a normal world, he’d need an extensive amount of therapy to make sure there wasn’t some lingering mental trauma. Instead, the baron hopped back in the carriage and began the next set of lessons on the strengths of the noble houses.

I am going to survive it all. The determination ignited in Rowan’s chest. I don’t care whether my card sucks, or what it takes. But I’m going to survive whatever this world throws at me.

As the carriage drew closer to its final destination, Rowan almost managed to convince himself that he’d survive. Almost.