As he walked away, Acheron marvelled at the feeling of the restored war scythe in his hands. He hadn’t expected to feel any noticeable changes from the smith just sharpening its blade and yet the weapon sitting in his right hand felt completely different to the one he had gone to the old smith with.
Had he not watched the smith at work he would have sworn that the old man had done more to his weapon than just sharpen its edge. Previously the shaft had sat in his hand awkwardly, yet now it almost felt like it was specifically designed for him, not just that but it didn’t feel as unwieldy as it had felt when he first picked it up. Acheron felt that his very being seemed to resonate with the war scythe, like they were 2 puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly. In truth, it was likely just his imagination wanting to convince him that he hadn’t made a mistake choosing the war scythe as a weapon.
Looking back to where the old man’s shop was, he saw him sagging over the anvil as if he had just exerted himself greatly. Acheron thought it was odd considering the man had looked fine a second ago but shrugged, there wasn’t anything he could do to help him so there was no real point turning around.
‘I wonder how old that guy really is, it can’t actually be millennia, can it? I just realised I never even asked for his name! What kind of person is so rude not to ask for a name?’ Shaking his head in embarrassment and reproach, Acheron increased his speed a little bit.
Reaching the moat around the inner wall, Acheron waited for the drawbridge to be lowered before passing over the moat and heading straight for the storehouse that held supplies for travelling. He immediately grabbed a pack hanging on a wall just inside and started filling it with the supplies he would need to stay outside for multiple nights. He grabbed dried meat, a canteen, a lantern, a cloak, a map of the area, a compass, and a flint and steel.
After stuffing everything he could into the pack, he slung it over his shoulder and made for the mission board. He hadn’t actually chosen a mission yet and so spent some time reading them over, altogether there were more than a hundred missions but of those only about sixty were for iron rankers. From there were also a couple that were for platoons and some that were too far for him to get to in a short time.
This narrowed down his selection to about fifteen missions which ranged from eliminating small goblin and gnoll hordes, travelling the main roads to clear them of dangers, escorting important deliveries, and hunting criminals.
Most of these weren’t very quick either, meaning that all Acheron really had to choose from was whether he wanted to fight goblins of gnolls. This wasn’t a very easy choice because he had never actually seen either, he had only heard tales of both and knew that they were weaker and dumber than humans but liked to prey on them for food.
Eventually Acheron chose a mission that would send him a day out from the main road to where a horde of goblins had encamped. It was for an iron rank squad, but he figured that he should be fine, he was pretty strong with his skills and if worst came to worst he would always reincarnate after a tedious cooldown.
After marking an X on the specific mission sheet so that other lieutenants and captains would know someone was already doing it and memorising the location on the map, Acheron grabbed his gear and made his way out of the inner walls. He received a couple odd looks from the guards but none of them said anything, and soon he was heading towards the city’s exit.
It was slightly past midday at this point and Acheron was intent not to waste any more time, once he was out of the city he would run as fast as he could to his destination and try to get it done as quickly as possible. If everything went to plan, he should complete it and return to the city before his squad mates.
Acheron was travelling a very similar route to the one he had first travelled when he was led to the duke’s manor, and he found it interesting that he was no longer as awed by what he saw. After seeing both the cathedral and duke’s manor a couple shops and houses along the street weren’t much to look at.
He exited the city easily enough, with one of the guards who had first taken him to the duke recognising him and congratulating him on his new position. After walking through the large gates Acheron set off on a run.
The mission had said it would take a day to get to the goblin encampment but his was set on making it half, this wasn’t just to save time though, it would also help him in his endeavour to get [Sprinting] which would increase his speed and stamina efficiency while he was sprinting.
Pulling out his map as he went, Acheron once again traced his route, trying to identify any landmarks that would help his journey become easier. His first stretch would be heading directly south along one of the main roads before turning south-west off of the path when he reached a large boulder on the side of the road. From there he should find a small farmhouse which he was supposed to head directly west from until he found the goblins.
Time passed as he ran, not taking breaks or even slowing down, unfortunately there wasn’t a lot of scenery, which made the run quite boring, it was also difficult die to him having to run with a 2-metre-long pole in one hand. After a couple hours he came to the boulder and turned slightly to his right, once again finding himself within the forest he had reincarnated in.
The sights were very familiar while the running was quite monotonous, meaning that as he ran Acheron’s mind was left to wander through different topics. He quickly found himself thinking about the bearkin invasion that the duke had said would occur in four months. He needed to get strong enough to be able to actually contribute but the time he had seemed far too short to be able to improve significantly. All he could do was push himself as hard as possible and hope that he could make some meaningful contributions when they fought the bearkin.
The forest did disappear once he had run for an hour or two, leaving him in a rolling landscape with thick green brush and a sprinkling of verdant trees. It was a nice change of scenery, but it grew monotonous quickly.
His mind then wandered to his home village Oldara, they had likely found the heads of his dead parents and depending on what the bearkin had done, his mutilated corpse. After more than a month, things would well and truly be back to normal, people would be living their lives, unaware of the invasion that was brewing. His face darkened as he thought of the bearkin burning down his village and slaughtering the people he had grown up with.
Acheron sped up as his mind started to wander even darker places, thoughts of what would happen if the invasion was successful, or even if the common people starved before the invasion even started. Acheron wouldn’t let such a thing happen, he would stand against the army of bearkin, no matter how insignificant he seemed, and he would not relent. Acheron raised his war scythe up into the air signifying his defiance in the face of overwhelming odds, as he did so, his entire weapon seemed to hum with resolve, as if it were agreeing with his gesture.
Previously Acheron had chalked up the strange feeling he had gotten from the war scythe as just his imagination, however this time he wasn’t so confident. For a moment it had truly felt like the weapon had been more than just a piece of wood and iron, but as quick as the feeling had come it had gone. Acheron decided that when he returned from his mission the first thing he would do was go to the blacksmith and ask what he had done to the weapon. For now though, it didn’t seem to affect his ability to use it, or at least not noticeably so he would just carry on.
Acheron soon came across his next landmark – the farmhouse and turned right slightly more so that he was now travelling directly west. He had been travelling for roughly five hours now and guesses that he still had about two hours of running to go, it was better than the day it was supposed to take but worse than his hopes of reaching the goblins within half a day. Ultimately it didn’t matter as either way he would wait until morning to fight the goblins, it would just mean that he would have less visibility to see the goblins as he ran.
As he was nearing an hour from the farmhouse, Acheron received a very pleasant surprise.
[New skill acquired
Sprinting (passive) (common) - Iron]
“Yes!” Acheron cheered, he had been working to get this skill for many years and so for his effort to have finally paid off was more satisfying than getting the uncommon skills. The boost was noticeable immediately, though it wasn’t anything insane he was still running a fair bit faster than before. That wasn’t even counting for the fact that he wouldn’t be as exhausted due to the decreased stamina usage.
Another benefit was that Acheron would get even more Rebirth Credits, which meant he was close to being able to improve the potency of his offensive, defensive or farming skills again. If he upgraded or acquired a new skill, he should have enough credits to improve it after he died.
With a boost of moral and speed, Acheron crossed the last kilometres in a short amount of time, keeping a watchful eye out for any signs of the goblins in the rapidly diminishing light. He knew the rough general area of where the goblins were but not the specifics, meaning that he had to search quite a large area with low visibility.
After some time, Acheron saw movement in the corner of his vision, crouching low he crept towards the movement he had seen. It wasn’t long before he saw it again, this time he was certain he had found what he was looking for.
The movement had come from a short green humanoid who was currently digging through the intestines of what Acheron guessed to be a wild goat. The image he had in his mind of what they would look like was drastically different to the one that was hunched over only forty metres away.
He had imagined them to be almost identical to humans apart from their green skin and lower intelligence but what he saw before him seemed to be more beast than man.
The thing before him was hideous, with eyes that showed no sign of empathy or kindness and a gnarled and wart ridden body. It looked to be around 4 feet tall, though it was hard to tell when it was bent over the goat carcass and was completely bald. Most notable was its green skin and long ears that pointed outwards horizontally.
As Acheron crept closer, he got an even better look at the goblin which definitely wasn’t something he wanted to do again. It had a long nose, long sharp teeth, and nails on its fingers and toes that were stained from blood and dirt. He was glad to see that it wasn’t naked but rather wore the tattered skin of some other animal which it had probably killed, unfortunately it didn’t cover much of the grotesque body.
Having confirmed that this was likely a goblin, Acheron moved around it in search for the others. He was expecting to see around 10 or fifteen of them and so was shocked when he came over a slight ridge and found at least thirty of them all doing various activities.
‘Did I overestimate myself?’ Acheron wondered, he had thought that he would be able to complete a mission that was supposed to be for a group of ten iron rankers but now that he was faced with at least thirty goblins he wasn’t so sure. He had thought he would be able to due to his ability to kill all thirteen bandits and even a bronze rank wolf. Only now did he realise that being able to kill thirteen people with no combat skills or even any knowledge about fighting was quite different to being the equivalent of ten people who had been trained in combat and had skills for it.
‘I came all the way out here, I may as well give it a shot.’ Acheron decided, slowly moving back from the ridge he was on. He moved a couple kilometres away from where he had seen the goblins before laying out a bedroll and taking out some dried meat.
He had made his decision but wasn’t so rash as to attack them out in the open with such low visibility. He would rest tonight and then take the goblins by surprise by attacking them early the next morning.
The food wasn’t much compared to the extravagant feast he had enjoyed the night previous, but it would serve the same purpose. Laying back on his bed roll Acheron smiled, this reminded him a lot more of his bed back at home, apart from the fact that there was no roof.
Staring up into the starry sky, Acheron thought about his future, no matter what he would survive the invasion, but what would he do then? Would he go back to farming after all of this? It was something he enjoyed but it seemed unlikely that he could go back to it after what he had been through.
“I guess we’ll just see what happens and do whatever seems best when we get to it.”
After running for a large chunk of the day, he was quite exhausted and sleep came easily, taking his mind into darkness.
…………
Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight shining into his eyes, Acheron sat up. He felt a little bit sore from his running the previous day and still had wounds from fighting the wolves and bandits that hadn’t fully healed, but he was ready to fight some goblins.
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Packing his bed roll back into his pack and picking up his war scythe which he had laid down beside him, Acheron made his way back towards where he had first seen the goblins. Making as little noise as he could, Acheron moved over the ridge once again to get a clear line of sight on the goblins.
They were all asleep in a large pile, having bunched up to conserve warmth, now that he could see them in day Acheron realised that their number was closer to forty than thirty. Putting his pack down beside a bush, Acheron surveyed the surrounding area to determine the best way to attack.
The goblins had put themselves in a small valley, with low patches of undergrowth the only pieces of cover. Due to Acheron’s armour, he was quite loud when moving, no matter how quiet he tried to be. This meant that the goblins would likely be woken up and then immediately spot him if he tried to sneak up on them.
Acheron wasn’t too bothered by the fact that he couldn’t sneak up on them, even if it would make his job harder. Still looking at the valley, Acheron noticed a part where a small stream cut through the side of the valley, creating a natural chokepoint due to the high banks on either side.
From one side of the bank to the other was about three metres, giving Acheron room to move and swing his war scythe, but not wide enough that he couldn’t defend both sides to prevent himself being surrounded.
Leaving his backpack where it was, Acheron made his way around the valley until he reached the shallow stream, from there he followed it inside the valley and into view of the goblins. They were still asleep, though Acheron knew that wouldn’t last long, he gripped his war scythe in both hands, ready for battle.
The closest goblin to Acheron was about twenty metres away, and as he took his next step, it stirred, the step after that one caused it to sit up in alarm and look around at its surroundings. Upon seeing a large human wielding a long sharp blade, the goblin shrieked loudly, scrambling to its feet, and looking at him warily.
The goblin didn’t move to attack, but rather watched Acheron warily, it was obviously waiting for its brethren to wake, which he allowed to happen. It would make his fight harder but otherwise he would have to leave the slight choke point that he had put himself in, giving the goblins an opportunity to surround him.
The shriek from the first goblin was quickly echoed by others as they were woken up by its warning, before Acheron the pile of goblins became a writhing mass as they woke up and struggled to untangle themselves.
A couple of the ones on the edges got out easily enough and one of them charged at Acheron, he swung the war scythe in a horizontal arc, and the blade easily sliced through the unarmoured goblin. Acheron smiled at how right it felt to use his weapon, as if he were harvesting heads of wheat rather than heads of goblins.
Seeing their kin die so easily might have made others hesitate but the goblins were not ones to back down, shrieking and roaring at Acheron, they began whipping themselves into a frenzy, directing all their rage toward Acheron.
Three goblins charged into Acheron’s range simultaneously, baring their teeth and sharp nails at him.
Acheron once again swung in a wide horizontal arc, the first goblin couldn’t react in time and soon found its head separated from its neck, the second tried to duck but didn’t move fast enough, causing the blade to bite through the side of its head. The last goblin managed to get out of the path of the swing but before it actually reached Acheron, he had brought his blade down onto it with a high overhead arc.
There were more goblins behind these three and Acheron backed up to ensure that the goblins didn’t get inside his range. Long weapons like his war scythe allowed someone to attack an enemy from a longer distance, thus reducing their likelihood to be hurt. However, once someone moved past the tip of the weapon its effect was largely negated, exposing the wielder to being attacked without a method to strike back.
More goblins charged forwards and Acheron lunged forwards, impaling two goblins on the tip of his weapon before retreating slightly to avoid the other goblins crowding him. Pulling his blade out of the torsos of the two goblins, Acheron used the shaft of his weapon to prevent a goblin from jumping on him.
His fist met the goblin’s head, throwing it off his war scythe and flying through the air like a ragdoll, it landed amidst stampede of goblins following him and was trampled mercilessly.
Acheron continued backing up as the goblins gave chase, each swipe of his scythe reaping the lives of multiple goblins. There were still a lot of them, and they were intent on reaching him, willing to put their bodies and kin on the line.
The goblins weren’t very smart and didn’t try anything else even as they watched those in front of them be hewn in half from Acheron’s powerful swipes. His blade was stained red with the blood of the goblins and the stream was dyed red from all the blood that had been spilt.
He found that he could easily cut off limbs and severe flesh with each and every slash, the sharp edge of the war scythe making short work of any unarmoured bodies before him. At that moment, Acheron couldn’t see how this was meant for a whole squad of iron rank soldiers, he was sure that a couple would be able to take out the horde that he was slowly chipping down.
That was until he took his next step backwards, as he did, he felt his foot hit rock directly behind him. Quickly glancing back, Acheron realised that the stream was coming from a small fissure in the side of the hill behind him, the rest of the hill was one sheer face, meaning that he had just allowed himself to be cornered.
He didn’t falter but continued swinging at the goblins who were now closing in, trying to reduce their number as much as possible. At this point he had likely killed around half of them, meaning there was still almost twenty goblins trying to attack him.
The first goblin got past his guard and latched onto his leg, trying to ignore the hindrance Acheron swung again, however, another goblin grabbed onto his arms, reducing much of the momentum of his swing, and providing time for even more goblins to get in close to him.
As a goblin tried to drag its nails across his face, Acheron finally let go of his war scythe. He was reluctant to let it go, but at that moment it was hindering his ability to fight and protect himself more than it was helping him.
Acheron tried to kick at a goblin but found there was too much weight on him preventing him from shifting his balance. More and more goblins piled up onto him, causing him to stagger backwards, unable to hold up the weight that was bearing down on him.
He tried to tear some of the goblins off of him, but their sharp nails dug into clothing and skin alike to prevent themselves being thrown away. Acheron roared in pain as a goblin lifted up his mail and sunk its teeth into his exposed torso, the pain made him lose concentration for only a second, but it was enough to make him lose his balance.
Acheron crashed to the ground, overwhelmed by a swarm of goblins. Their claws raked his skin, teeth sank into his flesh, and their relentless tugging threatened to tear his armour off.
Laying on his back, Acheron tried to get up, but the weight of both his armour and the goblins on top of him prevented him from doing so. His flesh was bitten and scratched as he flailed wildly, trying to push off goblins sitting atop him.
Being entirely submerged under the goblins, Acheron couldn’t see any of his surroundings meaning that his attempts to fight back were less than successful. Especially when one goblin bit deeply into his hand as he tried to punch one on top of him.
Acheron was troubled as he received an ever-increasing number of wounds from the goblins, though individually they were of little consequence, their numbers were starting to add up. This was posing a greater threat for Acheron as currently he could see no way out of the predicament he had found himself in.
Though his death ultimately mattered little, Acheron thought that learning to use his war scythe properly and the opportunity to complete more dangerous missions wasn’t something he wanted to miss. Especially as he would have to wait for the cooldown to end before he could reincarnate again.
Acheron tried his best to still fight back, grabbing goblins in one hand and either pummelling them or trying to choke them, either way it made little difference. There were far too many goblins for him to deal with before he bled out, he could already feel himself becoming light-headed.
Once again, Acheron strained with all his might to lift himself up or at least turn his body so that he could push the goblins off, using both [Berserker Rage] and [Upper Body Strength] to maximise his power.
He could feel his body flagging as his stamina dropped precipitously, but there was nothing else he could think to do.
Determined not to give up, Acheron kept shifting, kept trying to push just a little bit more power into his muscles so that he could push the goblins off. All the while he was enduring the pain of nails and teeth ripping into his flesh, intent on tearing him apart.
Acheron roared furiously, pushing everything he could into his muscles in a moment of defiance, if he would die then he would die in a storm of blood, ripping and tearing all the dirty little goblins trying to kill him. He would not die buried under a horde of goblins!
Suddenly strength coursed through his entire body and allowing him to surge upwards, bursting from the swarm of goblins like an incarnation of blood and fury, with armour stained red and fists ready to bring retribution upon the goblins.
[Upper Body Strength (passive) (common) – Iron
Has become:
Body Strength (passive) (common) - Bronze]
Acheron’s muscles felt like they had been unbound for the first time in his life, as if previously he had been living with shackles on. Rather than his increased strength making him feel clumsy or brutish he felt as if he had just gotten closer to his true self.
Acheron’s fists punched outwards at the nearest goblins, breaking bones and sending them tumbling away. The small gully no longer echoed with only the howls of rage from the goblins but also shrieks of pain as Acheron’s fists met flesh. Goblins once again tried to overwhelm him and topple him, but his enhanced strength was enough to prevent it.
Acheron punched a goblin who had latched onto his leg, causing a loud crack to resound as it dropped limply, another goblin swiped at his mail covered chest, doing nothing. Acheron returned the attack with a kick to the chest, breaking its sternum and multiple ribs.
Backing away from the goblins, Acheron finally had room to breathe, there were still eleven goblins alive none showing any signs of fear or even hesitation, only hunger and resentment.
Picking up a rock from the side of the riverbank, Acheron used it as a makeshift weapon as he surged forwards, back into the group of goblins. The rock was quickly smeared with blood as it collided with the heads of the goblins smashing skulls and sending goblins tumbling to the ground.
The rock cracked as he hit one goblin, making him drop it and return to using his fists on the last two, despite the large number of already dead goblins, neither tried to run. They leapt at Acheron, scratching at him viciously as they snarled and bared their teeth.
A fist empowered by a bronze rank skill and two iron rank ones killed one goblin, the last one Acheron caught by the throat before slamming its head into the exposed rock wall where the water trickled from.
Silence filled the gully, apart from the heavy panting of Acheron and the musical tinkle of the stream.
He had prevailed. Not a single goblin was left alive, all having tasted either his blade or his hands. Not just that though, Acheron was now a bronze ranker in combat, not just farming.
He found it difficult to stand on his feet but didn’t sit, he was exhausted and hurt, experiencing pain all over his body. With sheer force of will and determination, Acheron slowly made his way out of the gully and back to his backpack. Upon reaching his backpack, Acheron practically collapsed to the ground, being completely and utterly exhausted, he closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him.
…………
Acheron groaned, he had hoped that sleep might help alleviate some of the pain he was feeling but it seemed he had no such luck. The sun had disappeared from the sky and night had come, bringing along with it a cool breeze. He shivered slightly, but ignored the chill for the most part, compared to his pain it was barely noticeable.
Digging through his bag, he retrieved his canteen and some rations of bread and meat. He was incredibly hungry and thirsty as if he had been working all day without breakfast or lunch.
Ever since getting [Physical Exertion] he had never felt exhaustion to the point he collapsed and yet twice in the last week he had gotten to that point. It made him wonder as to what had changed to make his stamina expenditure so much greater.
Closing his eyes once again, Acheron decided to wait until his pain subsided further before setting off back to Ultu. Sleep evaded him, leaving his mind to wander through the recent events.
The first thought that came to his mind was of the screen that had appeared during his fight. It had come as a pleasant surprise when he had upgraded [Upper Body Strength] to [Body strength] this was further proof of just how impactful upgrading his affinity had been.
He was no longer just a bronze ranker in farming, but also one in combat. Acheron would previously have been considered a bronze ranker due to [Weeding], even though his fighting skills were all iron rank. However, he would not have been considered a bronze ranker in combat because his bronze rank skill had nothing to do with combat.
For example, if a person were to have a bronze skill focussed on studying, they wouldn’t be referred to as a bronze ranker in the context of magic. Whereas if the person had a bronze rank skill to do with fire magic, they would be considered a bronze ranker in magic and possibly combat depending on what the skill did.
Acheron had always been sure he would be a bronze ranker due to upgrading his domestic skills, but he had never dreamt of getting combat skills and definitely not upgrading them. Violence had never seemed like something he would need and even if his views had differed from his father’s slightly, he still hadn’t thought he would need to fight anyone.
More time passed, with Acheron mainly planning on what he would do next. He still had over three weeks until his cooldown would be over, and he could resurrect again. That meant if he wanted to use his time as best he could until the war came then he needed to stay alive for at least the next few weeks. He decided his best plan of action would be to learn from the captain as much as possible while taking missions with his squad to consolidate what he learned.
As the sun started to rise, Acheron decided that he had rested long enough, and pushed himself onto his feet, every part of his body protested his decision, but he didn’t relent. He grabbed his backpack, stuffing his canteen into it and looked around, feeling as if he was forgetting something.
‘Wait, where’s my scythe?’
Acheron looked back towards the valley, ‘please don’t tell me I left it back there.’ He really didn’t want to have to go back there, not just because of how sore he was but because he was pretty sure that the smell would be putrid by now.
He was tempted to leave the scythe in the gully but was reminded of his promise to the old smith, sighing in resignation, Acheron started making his way down the slope and towards the stream.
When he first reached the stream there was no smell, giving Acheron hope that he might be able to get to his scythe without his nostril being assaulted, however a gust of wind immediately dashed those hopes. Acheron gagged, his stomach attempting to make him throw up the food he had eaten earlier, the smell was the worst thing he could imagine, a mixture of faeces, rotting meat, and sweat.
Holding his nose, Acheron carefully made his way up the stream, stepping over the dead bodies of goblins that were scattered across the ground. The smell was so pungent that it almost seemed physical as he reached where the gully stopped, he had to force himself to push forwards while holding his breath for as long as possible.
The goblin corpses were covered in flies and there were signs that other small creatures had been gnawing on them. It was most definitely the most disgusting sight and smell he had ever experienced, and Acheron wondered if killing himself then might be better so that he didn’t have to experience those sensations for a second longer.
Acheron’s will did not break though, and finally he made his way back out of the gully and into fresh air, he gulped in lungfuls of clean air, gaining a new appreciation for fresh air. Pushing through the smell had just about been worse than fighting the goblins, because at least he was used to pain, he feared that the smell would haunt his nostrils forever.
Having taken a breather and now having everything he needed, Acheron began heading east towards where the farmhouse should be. He didn’t sprint as fast because he didn’t want to open up all the scabs that covered his body, though he knew that jogging at any speed would likely be enough to open them up.
Time passed slowly as he jogged, his pain and exhaustion causing each step he took to be a mental battle between himself and his body that just wanted to rest. Acheron knew that if he gave up then it would set a bad precedent for him to follow, so his mind never wavered, enduring all the torment with a steady pace.
The looks Acheron received from people as he ran down the main road were both familiar and alien, they were still wary and not exactly welcoming except this time Acheron thought he could detect maybe a bit of pity or maybe empathy. He wasn’t too sure why they might pity him, although looking down at his sorry state it wasn’t hard to guess.
When Ultu did finally come into his vision it looked like paradise, with its large walls promising uninterrupted sleep and its tall spires promising a roof over his head and a mattress to sleep upon.
He stumbled up to the front gate where a lieutenant stopped him, “What happened to you? And where is the rest of your squad? Are they hurt and you’re here to get help or are you the last one left?” They looked quite worried, placing a comforting hand on Acheron’s shoulder.
“I was just completing a mission to take out some goblins an-” Acheron began,
“Did you encounter a bronze ranker among them? Is that why you fled? I’ll get a healer!” The lieutenant interrupted.
“I didn’t flee, the goblins are all dead, and no there was no bronze ranker.” Acheron replied stopping the lieutenant from rushing off.
“Well then where are the rest of you squad mates and why are you in such a sorry state?” The guard asked, puzzled.
“My squad mates are off doing another task that has been given to them, I fought all the goblins myself and it was quite the fight, that’s why I’m in such a sorry state.” Acheron answered, beginning to feel slightly annoyed about how he was being prevented from finding a bed and falling asleep.
“But you have to do those missions with a squad! That’s it, I’m gonna have to report you to my captain.” The lieutenant said haughtily.
“Whatever” Acheron muttered, “they can find me in dorm 6 of block C I’ll be sleeping in there.” With that, he continued onwards, his mind solely focussed on one thing. Sleep.
“You can’t just walk off!” The guard protested “you need to wait here!”
Acheron ignored the guard as he continued to protest Acheron walking straight past him, he had far too little energy to deal with someone like him.
Acheron received multiple worried stares from people as he walked up the streets but wasn’t worried, he reached the moat and after receiving another scolding he was allowed through.
He barely had the presence of mind to take down the mission he had completed from the mission board before he collapsed onto his bed. He was still wearing his armour which was crusted with dried blood but at that moment such a thing was inconsequential.
Acheron was pleased that sleep did not evade him this time and he soon found the sweet relish of nothingness to soothe his aches and pains.
…………
An unknown time later Acheron was awoken by loud banging on the door to his dormitory, he stirred for a moment before closing his eyes once again, he was far too tired to deal with people.
Unfortunately, people were not too tired to deal with him, and in an instant, he was wide awake as freezing water was poured over him. He bolted upright to see who had thrown the ice water onto him; he wasn’t sure who he was expecting to see but the duke definitely wasn’t them.
“I think, we need to have a chat.”