Chapter One

Almost everyone had a dream, big or small. Some may have more dreams than others, but that was generally true.

It was a beautiful day, with the cheery sun enthusiastically spreading its radiance across the lush and green forests of Terandria. It was the kind of day where someone achieved a dream they’d wanted for years; consolidated all of their classes into one, perhaps.

It was on this oppressively nice day that a young woman sat under a tree, her back leaning against the trunk, her body broken and dreams shattered. If one looked closer, they may have noticed the bloody armour and sword, and the wounds on her stomach, chest, back, legs — almost everywhere, actually. Hell, there was even one on her neck.

Her breath came out in ragged gasps, and she was already sweating under the armour, the armour that her father had bought her —

She slammed her eyelids closed so she could concentrate on her thoughts, to stop thinking about him, but it was too late. Her breath caught in her throat again, and she sobbed quietly. Or rather, she had tried to sob, but she could muster no tears in her eyes. Which also reminded her that she needed to find water, but she was so tired. Her bones ached — there were probably a couple of broken ones — and she must have ripped several tendons.

And she had run out of healing potions. She was also way too tired to drag herself any further. Wonderful.

The young woman gazed vacantly at the faint trail of blood that she had left in the grass. Granted, it quickly veered out of view into the dense grove of trees, but she knew it came from the terrible battle where her father died and left her grievously wounded.

And there was so much blood. Blood ran everywhere, from the soldiers next to her and herself, and the enemy soldiers’ blood caked on her enchanted blade, providing her nose an uncomfortable front-row seat to the death around her.

He had promised to buy front-row seats after this battle for the new ‘plays’ —

She cut off her thoughts once again, trying to stabilize her breathing.

My father is dead.

She ground her teeth, but she knew — there was not a single thing she could do to change that fact. Anger and resentment bubbled up inside of her, and she wanted to scream, to run, to kill, But the young woman could barely shift her body to roll to her side if she wanted to sleep — if she could even make it to night.

Revenge was pointless, but she wished she wasn’t smart enough to realize it because then she’d have a purpose, a direction. Instead, she was lost, after the person who had guided her all her life was torn away by the cold hands of Death. But Death was fair, and it came for everyone, just some earlier than others. Sometimes frighteningly earlier.

“I vow that… I will delay Death as far as possible, for anyone that I love.”

Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, yet it cracked. The only reason he was dead was because she did not try hard enough to save him. If she had been looking out for him, and jumped between him and the blade…

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

She should have died, not him.

“If I live, yet fail to protect anyone else, I don’t deserve… to live.”

Her voice cracked at the last word — which was surprising. She didn’t expect that she had enough of a voice to crack.

The young woman blinked non-existent tears out of her eyes and tried to breathe deeply.

Even though she couldn’t feel anything magical taking hold from the vow, it still felt better to say it out loud. A promise to herself.

And that was all the time her willpower could afford. She could see the darkness creeping in out of the corner of her eye. Even the pain wasn’t helping her stay awake.

Maybe… she could just stop fighting it. It would be very nice to close her eyes… and not think again, of her father, of death, of blood. It was properly enticing, too, letting herself sink into the warm embrace of darkness, and not think about… anything anymore.

She soon lost the war of attrition, and the [Warrior] known as Renyn Couster finally closed her eyes. She ignored the teeny-tiny voice in her head, telling her that she should stay awake, stay conscious.

But for whom?

The voice had no answer for that.

Luckily — or unluckily, depending on if you wanted eternal rest or not, the levels came and went, managing to keep her brain at a certain level of activity. That was enough to keep her alive, at least for a while longer.

[Warrior Level 16!]

[Skill – Lesser Pain Tolerance obtained!]

[Skill – Repositioning Block obtained!]

[Skill – I’ll Save You, Whatever It Takes obtained!]

Four whole levels. It would’ve been a moment of celebration in her family, but if she were awake, she would have been very… agitated. And probably throwing things too, if she had the muscular ability to.

Her father — everything about him — was worth just about four levels.

— — —

Renyn’s father, Hugo, was a [Knight]. Not a famous one, like, say, the Summer’s Champion, Ser Greyston of the Order of Seasons, but he certainly was good enough with a blade to be one in the first place. Not that mastery over a blade determined anything about being a [Knight] — most adventurers were not [Knights], even though most of them probably were skilled enough to become one.

No — Hugo was able to become a [Knight], because he was, in Renyn’s biased opinion, the most kind and passionate person she had ever known. After her mother had died, he cared for her and her brother the best he could, in between periods where he journeyed and fought with his Order. Every time, he would come back to bring grand tales of battles and valour, and even though they might be slightly exaggerated, it made her look up to her father. There was even a time as a child, when she would study up on [Knights], their Orders, and their history almost obsessively.

After her brother left for Wistram, Renyn began to dream about a future where she would ride to battle alongside her father, defeating their enemies in a glorious battle. That was why she had wanted to fight with her father in that battle. It was supposed to be relatively small, just a minor border conflict, that was all.

Instead, it had turned into a bloodbath. The enemy soldiers fought tooth and nail for an inch of ground, and their forces had blocked her retreat.

As far as she knew, at the end of the day, despite all the blood and death, it had not accomplished anything for either side, just two commanders walking away with broken armies with nothing to show for it.

And yet… she still yearned for that sensation of blood boiling, adrenaline coursing through her veins. It made her feel alive.

But she could deal with dilemmas later, for she had a case of dying-without-food-or-water to take care of.

While Renyn’s body worked overtime to keep her alive, there was not a lot to do, being unconscious and all. All she could do, even if she were awake, was to wait for some miracle to save her.

And in a sense, miracle arrived.