Rowan’s worry came to pass over the next few days. There was very little progress on finding good recruits, let alone one who could help him test out his new class feature. But he was frustrated by an entirely different problem. One that stemmed from his best friend and the trio of women who were part of his party.

“Three days,” Rowan hissed, stomping through his room as Olivia watched on in amusement. “They’ve been stopping me from visiting him for three days!”

“Rowan, you’re going to fall through the floor at this rate,” Olivia quipped, and even though he felt the urge to glare, Rowan took the moment to assess her claim.

His angry stomps weren’t exactly raising dust clouds, seeing as the room was meticulously clean. He did, however, have to admit he was causing actual damage to the carpet. And, now that he was looking a little closer, maybe to the floor too?

“How…”

“We’re at epic now, you dummy. And one of your main stats is strength. I wasn’t exactly kidding when I said what I said. If you put in enough effort, you’re going straight through that floor,” Olivia said.

Rowan scoffed, but there was no denying the blush that graced his cheeks. Typically, his increased stats and newfound abilities didn’t get in the way of his daily life. Although each increase in strength meant he was significantly stronger, he had to make an effort to use the added power. Ever since his ascension to epic tier, everything felt more instinctual. His cards, especially the epic tier ones, felt more like extra limbs than something he needed to tap into.

He could wield his stats with much higher proficiency and power. It wasn’t that Rowan couldn’t use them before. But he now had better instincts on how to handle all his rapidly earned power, whereas a part of him felt that his past self was like a toddler stuck in the body of a superhuman athlete. Could he walk, talk and function normally? Sure. Could he do it at peak efficiency? Hardly.

“Sorry,” Rowan grumbled. He strode over to collapse on the bed, his head falling onto her lap. “You know, your mom is scary.”

“Scary is the least of it,” Olivia replied.

Rowan had been briefly carried away with his new epic tier class and its stats. So much so that he asked the baroness for a spar. It didn’t end well.

Apparently, Natural Renewal could do much more than patch up simple wounds. That was both a good and bad thing. Camilla began cutting away deeper and deeper chunks of Rowan during their fight until Rowan had to stop because of the pain. It was true that he learned more in that spar than he did in weeks, but it was also the case that parts of him were still suffering phantom pain even now.

“If those three were as scary as Camilla, I would have given up. But they’re now. I just want them gone, you know? I guess the other two aren’t that bad, overall but the princess is making me want to lead a rebellion. Is she next in line to the throne?”

“It’s still up in the air, actually. Her older brother, the king’s eldest, is the crown prince right now. However, she is part of the hero party, and aiming to marry the hero too. She might end up inheriting the throne if she pulls that off and proves her power,” Olivia said.

Rowan grimaced, shuddering at the mere idea of having that woman on the throne. “I really hope not. If she does end up taking over, we’re rebelling against the kingdom, please promise me that?”

Olivia froze for a moment, her hand pausing where she was running her fingers through his hair. And then the spell was broken with a giggle. “I promise. You and me against the kingdom. Well, my parents would probably join in too.”

“That’s all we’d need, no?” Rowan teased in turn, grabbing her hand and pressing a soft kiss against her wrist. “I bet your mother could take out most of the capital all on her own.”

Olivia sent him a smug smile full of confidence, before her eyes caught on his lips. She leaned down and Rowan closed his eyes. And then a knock jerked her away from him and Rowan himself shot upright, eying the door.

“Who is it?”

“Excuse me, sir, but there’s a commotion at the training grounds. I thought it best to inform you personally.” Henry’s voice floated through the heavy wooden doors.

“I’m coming,” Rowan groaned as he stood and rearranged his clothing a little. It would not do for the mayor himself to show up to resolve a problem looking all disheveled. “You’ve got more information for me than that, right?”

“I’m afraid it has to do with the princess.”

Rowan groaned again, much louder this time.

—

The training ground of Rowan’s army had undergone a rather positive transformation as of late. For starters, the baroness’s work meant that the town had many more resources to spruce the place up. Higher quality training equipment, like dummies that could slowly regenerate from damage, were merely the tip of the iceberg. The ridiculously heavy weights meant for people with high stats were a particularly nice benefit and one Rowan was starting to take advantage of himself too.

The most significant change, of course, was to the soldiers themselves. There was a morale to them that didn’t exist before. Whereas they used to carry themselves listlessly and like they were afraid someone would beat them senseless for stepping out of line, they now stood proud and confident.

They had reason to feel that way.

They’d reached heights they previously thought impossible in regards to personal strength. They were paid much better, letting them take good care of themselves and their families. And, perhaps most importantly, they knew they had the support of their mayor.

The dead soldiers were few in their last mission, but seeing the families of the fallen receive the pension, along with all personal possessions of their fallen and even several high-quality cards, was enough to bolster the army’s loyalty to Rowan. It was, after all, something Rowan promised to do. He knew that the hallmark of a great general was following through on promises and building trust.

It was for this reason that the army had taken such exception to the princess barging in on their training and demanding they swear their loyalty to her.

When Rowan arrived, things were on the very verge of violence. The princess was shouting about loyalty, royal rights, the stupidity of peasants, and quite a few insults aimed at Rowan himself. The soldiers were silent and gripping their weapons tightly.

Rayne, on the other hand, was nodding along with a smile. “With all due respect, your highness, please fuck off.”

Rowan blinked. The princess blinked. Both of them stood frozen for a long moment, before the princess cocked her arm back, her hand whistling through the air in what was looking to be a devastating slap.

Rayne didn’t flinch, just smiling at the other woman and letting things the blow come closer and closer to her face.

In a flash, Rowan appeared right next to the two, his hand clamping down on the princess’s wrist. He stopped the attack before realizing that the woman’s main attributes were wisdom and intelligence. There was little chance of her getting free, but even less of a chance for damage even if she could strike an unencumbered blow.

“Release me this instant! You have no idea what you’re doing!” the princess hissed, spinning around to face her newest adversary, before freezing in place once again.

Apparently, she hadn’t expected Rowan himself to show up because she looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Can you explain to me, your highness, why you are here and harassing my troops?” Rowan asked as calmly as he could manage, which wasn’t all that calm at all. “Especially when I’ve told you, time and again, that you don’t have the authority to claim them?”

The princess flinched, then her own glare redoubled as she gave her arm a sharp yank. Rowan let her free herself before he folded his arms behind his back.

“You will regret treating me this way, mayor,” she hissed his title like it was an insult. “Blake, chosen of Goddess Sarina, will awaken soon! Then, we’ll see whether you can afford to be so rude.”

With those parting words and another venomous look, she stomped away. Rowan let out a long sigh, trying to cleanse himself of all the frustration and anger the woman’s sheer presence had caused to bubble up in him. It wasn’t enough that they were blocking his perfectly normal and justified request to see his friend in his own home, she was also set on pissing him off every time they crossed paths.

Like Blake is going to take your side, Rowan thought bitterly, before facing his troops again.

“Thank you for not stabbing her,” Rowan said sincerely, to the chuckles of his troops. “If she shows up again, which I will try to prevent, simply ignore her. In fact, it’s about time we got back to our excursions into the wastes. That will help you stay far away from her and earn some loot and levels besides.”

That, at least, was met with approval. No one would say no to more levels and cards.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

It was two birds with one stone. Now that the soldiers were strong enough, they could push back the demons and keep Rest’s Remorse safe. And they’d gain valuable combat experience for the future.

If Rowan was being entirely honest, though, that wasn’t the main reason he wanted to get away from the town.

The bond he’d established with Blake was once an indelible link straight to his emotions. Near or far, he was supposed to have a solid grasp of whether his [Knight] was in good condition or not, and the rough idea of what he was feeling.

Now, the bond was all but dead.

Only flickers of something passed through it, and Rowan was terrified that it might entirely wink out at any second. What exactly that meant for Blake and his current state, Rowan wasn’t sure. He did know it was unlikely to be anything good.

At least that same vague sense of his understanding implied that Blake did still have access to his card’s effects and that his friend was alive. That, more than anything, was helping Rowan cling onto the dregs of hope.

Regardless, a sense of foreboding had taken root in him, and it refused to let go.

—

Nothing major changes happened for the next few days. And in spite of his worry, Rowan was deeply enjoying the new routine.

He and Olivia were spending more time together, even if most of that was spent in her laboratory as she guided him through her latest experiments and her brewing efforts. Now that she was more or less officially the main alchemist of Rest’s Remorse, she couldn’t dedicate all her time to new recipes. Most of the time, she was making potions that had a clear need. She didn’t really complain though. If anything, she seemed to take an inordinate amount of pride in the fact that she was supplying the town with a frighteningly large number of potions.

The other addition to Rowan’s itinerary was the resumption of his classes with the baroness. The never-ending stream of laws, leadership know-how, and so much more was mind-numbing. At least Olivia was being forced to endure it all right alongside him.

It was, however, at the start of one of these classes that the baroness greeted them with an unusually bright smile.

“Something good happen, mom?” Olivia asked as she seated herself, a smile rising to her own face in response to her mother’s good mood.

“For once, yes. Your father is going to visit us in about two weeks. He wants to see the town himself, and he’s found a couple of promising candidates for Rowan’s [Knight] slots.”

That caught the hero’s attention completely, both due to the fact that his class would finally have a chance to grow and because Olivia’s father would be arriving soon.

He exchanged an excited, if slightly worried, look with his favorite alchemist.

They would have a lot to discuss with her parents when they arrived. For the time being, however, all they could do was prepare.

—

Almost a week and a half after coming back to Rest’s Remorse, a message found Rowan while he was engaged in some light sparring with Marcus in the training yard, if ‘light sparing’ was the fitting description for a clash that left literal craters in the ground.

Blake was finally awake.

It should have calmed Rowan down and finally let him breathe a little easier. Instead, he found his heart racing ever faster as he drew closer to his friend’s room. The bad feeling he had was reaching a crescendo, and in spite of the assurances from his class, he was convinced he’d open the door and find Blake dead in his bed.

When Rowan finally reached his door, he couldn’t even bring himself to open it for long, painful minutes. It was the brief sound of laughter that finally compelled him to act, even if the sound was definitely off.

The three women immediately bristled at the mere act of the door opening, but he caught tears glistening in their angry eyes.

However, his full attention was squarely on Blake. The room had a large set of glass windows on the wall opposite the door. Those windows were wide open, letting the gentle afternoon sun filter into the room and paint everything in shades of yellow and orange.

Even under those hues, Blake was deathly pale.

His skin glistened with sweat that reflected the light, making the fact that his every movement and exertion was a torment apparent. He looked, well, like someone who had spent a week and change in a coma.

“You are not supposed to be here,” one of the women said.

“Amanda, please. Can I have a bit of time alone to talk to Hero Rowan?” Blake’s voice was scratchy and as weak as the rest of him. In spite of that, there was an undercurrent of authority and steel there that had the frustrating princess clamp her mouth shut. Rowan was genuinely surprised to see her defer to him so readily. With how many times he had to stop her from ordering his staff and soldiers around, not to mention thwarting her many poaching attempts, Rowan was fairly certain she would be more than happy to get rid of him if she could.

“You know, I genuinely admire you,” Rowan opened the conversation as he sat on one of the chairs conveniently positioned next to Blake’s bed. “How have you survived having them in your party? Without killing one or more of them, I mean. All they do is argue and cause trouble.”

Blake sighed, sinking back down onto the bed now that the women were out of earshot. Instantly, an even deeper sense of weariness settled about Blake and Rowan hated the fact that he apparently thought it was important to push himself that much just to put on a front.

“They’re not that bad,” Blake said.

“Once you get to know them, I assume?” Rowan asked.

“No.” Blake smirked, even if the expression quickly shifted into a grimace. “They actually get worse once you do that, for a little while. It all evens out when they figure out they don’t have to be awful and prickly around you.”

“You have the patience of a saint, Blake. I really don’t. So if you don’t tell your princess to stop trying to poach all my soldiers and a good chunk of my staff I’m going to chain her up and throw her into the dungeon. I haven’t seen it but I’m sure I have one somewhere around here.”

Blake laughed. “Please don’t. Can you imagine how annoying she’d be if you did? She’d drive all your jailers insane, and then what would you do?”

“I’m only part joking, Blake. Olivia’s mother is on the verge of stabbing her and she’s had decades of experience holding back her real feelings as a duchess.”

“I’ll do something about it, promise,” Blake said, his smile once more growing brittle as a surge of pain flashed through his body.

Rowan instantly felt worse about taking up so much time talking about someone who, on the whole, wasn’t that important. Now that Blake was awake, the connection between the two of them was stronger. Rowan could tell, vaguely, just how much pain his friend was in. How hollow and tired he felt. To say Blake wasn’t feeling the best would be an understatement.

“Do you want me to post up a guard next to your bed?” Rowan asked. “Might not be able to manage it easily, but I can probably get the Mercenary King and Marcus to take up the shifts. I don’t want those three getting ideas into forcing you to marry them on your sickbed.”

Maybe it was a bit crude, but Rowan tried for the joke anyways. Apparently, it worked, since Blake first sputtered, then laughed.

“I can handle them just fine, thank you very much. What about you, though? That alchemist of yours pushing for a wedding already?”

Rowan did blush but it was just a light reddening of his cheeks. The last few days were definitely good for him and Olivia and their relationship didn’t feel like something vague and barely defined anymore.

“She doesn’t have to push me. As soon as all of this mess is sorted out, I’m planning to ask her to marry me,” Rowan said, his heart jumping to his throat. The admission was more meaningful than anything else he could say. He finally sorted his feeling out, fully and truly. There was no more escaping the truth. He cared about the people around him now far more than he ever cared about anyone back on Earth.

Blake fell silent, eying his friend carefully for several drawn out moments. To Rowan’s surprise, he broke into a soft smile right after.

“So, you’re staying.” That wasn’t a question. It wasn’t judgmental, either, which Rowan was rather thankful for.

“I am,” Rowan said.

“Good. This place is good for you, Rowan. You’ve always been withdrawn. Hesitant to engage with anyone. I… I’m proud of you, you know? Hell, you came to save me. And now you’re planning a future with a beautiful woman!” Blake exclaimed.

Blake’s voice was slightly teasing, true. But the sincerity that shone through was almost enough to make Rowan choke up. A couple of tears escaped from him.

“You really think so? It’s not… wrong, to just stay? I mean, I know we haven’t even won against the legendary demons, let alone the big boss, so it’s a bit early to be thinking about stuff like this.”

“I know you love to ramble and second guess everything, but don’t. We’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Then you’ll have your happily ever after and everything is going to be okay,” Blake said the words forcefully.

Somehow, Rowan didn’t feel like Blake was entirely talking to him. It felt like a mantra the man had been repeating since waking up and the deepening pallor of Blake’s complexion worried him.

“So, what about you? Planning to stay as well?”

Blake blinked a couple of times, breaking himself out of the stupor that had claimed him. The smile he offered Rowan was blinding.

“Yep. I can do so much more here than I ever could have back home. There are people in actual danger, here. People who need me. My Goddess still needs me to go back to the capital and eradicate all the malicious heathens there!” As Blake spoke, his cheerful voice rose, and the end of his sentence may as well have been a shout of pain. Rowan watched, stunned, as Blake’s lips quivered, and tears started to slip down his cheeks. He quickly covered them with the back of his arm. There was little Blake could do for the way sobs jerked his body around, however, even if the way he was biting down on his lower lip silenced them.

“Blake? What’s wrong?” Rowan hovered half out of his chair. He had no clue what to do or say. Making people feel better was typically Blake’s job when they were together, and to see him so vulnerable was entirely enough to knock even the alarms going off at the mention of heathens out of Rowan’s head.

“I’m useless, now, Rowan.” A sob escaped the other hero as he spoke. “Useless. I can’t help you. My party’s probably going to abandon me too when they find out. I can’t help anybody anymore.”

Rowan’s mind spun, his eyes immediately flashing over Blake’s body. His first thought was a crippling injury, but the fact that all of Blake’s limbs were moving normally definitely precluded that one.

Blake was still weak from his coma. However, Rowan was fairly certain that he would recover rapidly between the potions Olivia could make and Rowan’s own regeneration card.

“Blake? Why do you say that?” Rowan asked slowly. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but we can fix it. I promise you, we’ll fix it.”

Rowan’s best friend removed the arm covering his red eyes and peered into Rowan’s face. “I was lost, Rowan. My Goddess told me as much. She was trying to delay the inevitable, but I was… I was going to get corrupted, sooner or later.”

“But you’re not, right? You’re not corrupted. We got rid of what the demon was doing. I got the system notification and everything.”

“You did.” Blake chuckled, the smile he offered Rowan profoundly sad. “I don’t have a clue how, but between what you did and your class effect, you did. Corruption isn’t so easy to deal with though. It has, consequences.”

Rowan’s worry and stress and days of waiting were starting to make him irritable. A ball of emotions swirling in his chest pushed him to demand an answer. Instead, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and spoke gently.

“What kind of consequences, Blake?”

In lieu of an answer, the other hero shared a system screen with him.

Blake Trevlin

Level 56 [Fragment of Light]

EXP: 843/6000000

Deck:

ERROR!

Your deck is currently locked!

Card detected:

[Heart] Light Scion (Epic)

“I’m broken, Rowan,” Blake whispered quietly, averting his eyes. “I’m not even at Epic anymore, and my class and deck…”

Rowan could see it in his expression. Blake was convinced that it was over and that there was little he could do to recover from this new kind of injury.

Rowan wasn’t as convinced.

“You still have your heart card,” Rowan said, sticking to the facts. “And you still have the ability to earn experience. We’re going to fix this, Blake. I don’t know how, but we’re going to fix this.”

His best friend gave a sad little smile, shifting just enough to give Rowan an awkward hug. The Stalwart Hero didn’t mind.

He wasn’t lying.

They’d find a way to give Blake back the power that was stolen from him, and then they’d take the fight to the demons, kings, and even the gods. Whatever it took to help his best friend.