If it wasn’t for my high Strength, just picking up the oversized brush I scrubbed Renala with would be a chore. I felt like a high rise window cleaner. Half my time was spent just climbing along her back and stomach as she rolled lazily onto her side so I could pamper her. It wasn’t long before the hot waters grew murky with soap sud, grime, and dirt. I didn’t envy the dwarves who’d end up cleaning the bath. Finally, I used a short spear to pick out the bleached bones and small pockets of plaque that gathered between her fangs. Her breath weapon made cleaning her teeth and gums the least arduous step. It took five hours before I finally could wash myself with what was left of the untouched water.
Satisfied with her spoiling, Renala shook her whole body just as I dried and dressed. A deluge of rain fell upon me. Slowly, I swiped one hand over my face and I stared at her with a dull expression. She tilted her head at me then sauntered off like the little princess she was.
Being a father is such a thankless job.
In the end, I used my Cloak of Invisibility and my Map to sneak through the hallways and back to my room so I could get another towel and a dry set of clothes. Several days worth of mead casks were tossed haphazardly in the corner of my room and I set about properly cleaning up after myself. I couldn’t let Renala see how badly her father fell during the last few days. I think she already knew I wanted to be alone because of our telepathic bond, but I couldn’t bear the thought of exposing my weaknesses to her. I was her father. I needed to be strong.
I apologized profusely to the kitchen staff after returning the empty casks, but they waved off my concerns. It was common for rulers to abuse their power, but I still felt bad for all the inconvenience. I must have looked and smelled horrific every time I came to the kitchens to take barrels of alcohol back to my room. It was low, unprofessional, and unbecoming of any leader, especially one trained so well as I was. I knew better, which was why I was so fucking embarrassed.
In order to make it up to them, Balin, and the rest of the dwarves, I gave all the kitchen staff the next day off and single-handedly manned it myself. They tried to refuse but I leaned into my authority and ordered them out. I utilized every single cooking show technique I ever watched to craft the meals for the entire building. It was difficult to adapt modern methods to the medieval, but many of the core concepts were the same, and I improvised the rest. Even Renala pitched in by hunting fresh game across the mountain for me to process. My Status gave me the physical endurance and speed I needed to make up for the missing cooks.
The final result was satisfactory, but the atmosphere was joyous. I prepared as lavish a feast as I could for the dwarves who provided so much to me.
“A toast, to Ranger Levin, Hero of Renalis!”
A series of cheers echoed Balin’s declaration. I silently raised my own mug with a roll of my eyes and bit into a thick slice of venison. We finished the party with a grand dubbing of the craftsmen and warriors who volunteered to join me against the demons of the Endless Abyss. Laevatein made another appearance, much to the awe of the dwarves. Rumors I could wield it spread across Renalis, but having it confirmed with their own eyes brought them to their knees. Laevatein was the first and last Legendary item to be forged within Akeroyd Peak. It was a symbol of the dwarves' proficiency and their dedication to Goldfire Renala. A part of me wanted to give it back to them, but without my rifle, I couldn’t afford to take another dent in my arsenal.
“So you’ll be leaving on the morrow,” Balin said as we walked alongside each other, back to our respective rooms.
“I’ve spent almost a month here. Altanova is almost entirely conquered and I need to go to the Kingdom of Avalon with the Queen once she’s finished consolidating her power in Veles.”
Balin pensively stroked his beard.
“A word of advice: the Kingdom of Avalon is an extraordinarily safe place if you are willing to follow the decrees of King Arthur to the letter. Otherwise, it may be the most dangerous place in Valeria aside from the Rift.”
I raised a brow at the two extremes.
Balin hesitated. “King Arthur is a Paladin.”
I nodded. Idyia informed me he was one of the few heroes in Valeria. Moreover, Balin confirmed that all Heroes were transmigrators. Which meant King Arthur was likely the King Arthur from English legends.
“This is among the greatest secrets of the world, but I share it to you now in hopes you will keep the Queen safe, Ranger Levin.”
“You know I will.”
“Before King Arthur, I doubt you can even breathe.”
“It can’t be that bad-”
“He is 31st Level.”
My jaw dropped. My mind stopped. My lungs froze. My world shattered.
“...31st level?” I repeated, eyes wide as saucers. How was I even supposed to compare to that? Mathematically, there was a 25 level difference between us.
“Indeed. The highest ranking clergymen of the Primaries are tasked with observing King Arthur and ensuring he does not jeopardize the god’s hegemony. He rules Avalon with an ironfist as the Perfect King. None on the mortal coil dare cross him, save one. Even Warrior Hercules steers clear of Avalon. Even the Primaries must factor his response into consideration when they make their moves on Valeria.”
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“Why is the Rift still there?” I found myself asking.
“Pardon?”
“Why is the Rift still there? King Arthur is probably the strongest mortal on the planet, right? Why hasn’t he done anything about the Rift?”
Balin shrugged. “I am ignorant about the finer points of this discussion. It falls outside of my jurisdiction. I am responsible for Renalis.”
I rubbed my jaw to massage some blood back into it. Just hearing about the scope of King Arthur’s power paralyzed me into inaction. After spending so much time in Valeria, I understood how strong I actually was in comparison to the common folk and how hard it was to level. Even Balin was only 2nd Level despite his age and rank as Archbishop. I sacked an entire city full of demons and cultists with less than 10 people and didn’t even Level up.
But 31st Level? How many kingdoms did Arthur Pendragon destroy? How many monsters did he kill? Millions. That was the only answer. This man single-handed killed millions. King Arthur was the personification of Jean Rostand’s quote.
“Kill one man, and you are a murderer. Kill a hundred men and you are a hero. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill them all, and you are a God.”
Balin gave me a sidelong gaze when I voiced my shock and awe out loud. “Such words are blasphemy, Ranger Levin.”
“No. I finally understand what it’ll take.”
I finally know what I need to do to see Rebecca.
I looked up at the high ceiling, but what I saw were the bloody, corpse filled battlefields of World War III, with trenches filled with blood so thick it reached to my shins. The pointless death and reckless hate that filled the fields seeped into my veins. I used my Intelligence to recreate all the raw emotions I felt when I gazed upon the horrors of war. I relived every moment of trauma I suffered in battle up until now. Every step I made. Every life I took.
Balin gasped when I turned my attention back toward him. I didn’t know what he saw on my face, but his eyes were sunken and cheeks were pale.
“I need to become a God.”
After I said farewell to the dwarves of Akeroyd Peak, Renala and I spent our days combing every inch of the Renalian countryside for demons and monsters. Oftentimes, we didn’t even bother landing. I used my magnified vision and my obscene engagement range to eliminate my targets from the sky. My arrows fell like divine retribution from on high.
Goblins. Orcs. Demons. Cultists. Bandits. Monsters. I spared none. All were converted into Experience.
On the few occasions we landed, I would meet with the local lords and ladies, arrange for those with combat-related Classes to gather, and dub any volunteers as champions. I no longer had any qualms about leading them into battle. After learning about how insignificant I truly was in the greater world, I needed to squeeze every drop of strength out of Renalis like water from a stone.
My relentless crusade stabilized the Renalian border territories and brought peace to my kingdom. My wife’s vice-grip on her land was finally solidified six months after my father-in-law was murdered.
Lydia was absolutely ecstatic about my sudden change in perception and demeanor. My draconian approach resonated and aligned with her own. Perhaps she knew all along this would be my fate. She always talked about how impossible my Quest was. She actively encouraged me to give up and just live in Renalis in peace. That would be the kinder path. I was certain I could find happiness here if I tried. It wasn’t an uncommon story; for fathers to abandon their elder children and start new lives somewhere else. As my next of kin, the United States government would ensure Rebecca had free healthcare, education, and enough money to live out the rest of her life in middle-class comfort. Honestly, Rebecca was more financially secure with me dead than alive.
But I couldn’t give up on seeing her again.
Was it my Devotion Aspect warping my mentality? Or was my love for my family always this intense? It didn’t matter. Not anymore. I didn’t care. From the start, I only had one objective since coming to Valeria.
I asked myself: What would I do to see her again?
I leapt off of Renala’s back when she landed in the Veles Citadel courtyard. The area was full of the Renalian Champions I recruited. Idyia and Anna stood awaiting my arrival near the center of the courtyard, dressed in their maid uniforms. They bowed their heads in unison as I walked past them and fell in step behind me.
My soldiers lined the path into the citadel gates and knelt while the three of us strode through them. It was a royal procession. I spotted Martha, Victor, and Finlay at the forefront. Despite their young age, I no longer felt guilt over leading them into the Rift.
“As you were.” I dismissed them with a booming voice. The citadel gates slammed shut after my declaration.
I’ll do whatever it takes.