Fleon shook Boyd awake. “You may start making amends for your folly right now. There are a group of Ruffians in the alley terrorizing a Fair Maiden. We will begin your sword training. Prepare yourself for battle.” Fleon left the room clad in his golden mail with The Blade of Light and Majesty already drawn from its sheath. “The others are out collecting Mana Nodes. I have been tasked with beginning your training. Let us commence.”

Boyd woke up still holding Souldrinker. He had nicked himself several times on it at night, which the blade has absorbed, further reinforcing their noxious and evil bond. Boyd was unaware of this, but was annoyed with the nicks and cuts.

“Dude, I was sleeping.”

“Evil does not sleep Sir Boyd. Arise!”

"Fine, you go do your slice and dice thing and I’ll just watch from the window.”

"Nay Sir Boyd, you will be defeating these Ruffians yourself today. It is time you drew blood in battle. We must train!”

Boyd, terrified at first, looked down at Souldrinker. A thought came into his mind, “Fill my unquenchable thirst. Show them death.” Boyd shrugged and threw on his shirt and walked out the door with Fleon and Souldrinker.

As Fleon and Boyd approached the alley, Boyd noticed seven ruffians surrounding someone who was labeled a “Fair Maiden.” From the look in their eyes, this was not an encounter she was interested in, or would enjoy. He realized she did indeed need help, and Fleon’s intention was that Boyd provide it. The Ruffians were all lower Rank than Boyd which seemed good. He was still hopeful Fleon would help him if he needed.

Fleon nudged him forward. “Sir Boyd, go protect that Maiden’s honor!”

Boyd walked forward. In a mostly non-threatening voice he yelled, “Hey. Stop you guys.” He scolded himself for the weak effort. Boyd scanned the closest enemy.

SYSTEM: Ruffian, Rank 6. Your standard issue street thug. They harass people. They steal things. They aren’t a big deal. This one is totally normal too. Trust me.

The Ruffians turned and laughed at him. One of them produced a knife and slashed at the Maiden’s blouse, exposing her right shoulder. She held her shirt fast against her skin. He turned and said, “You want in mate? I’ll give you the first run at her cunt if you and this golden shite will bugger off after.”

Fleon again shoved Boyd forward. “Sir Boyd, you must resist the temptation. Do not accept his extremely tempting and reasonable offer. Protect the innocent!”

Boyd turned abruptly, “Wait, what? Resist what temptation? Dude, you don’t think I would seriously consider that, right?”

The Ruffians, realizing Fleon and Boyd were distracted and not going to leave, had dispersed from the Maiden and pulled a litany of weapons. She huddled in the corner and slowly began crawling towards Fleon. Realizing he had to defend himself, Boyd pulled Souldrinker from its scabbard and took a fighting stance. While he had Multi-classed in Swordsoul he had also invested in some basic training with Greatswords. He had a reasonable idea of how to fight with one at this point, although he’d never actually hit anything alive.

Fleon grabbed Boyd and began jerking his body around. “Position your feet as so. You will want to take the high guard unless he rushes you, and then you will want to take a side guard, unless he’s using daggers and then you will want to simply use your skills to dodge the initial blow…” Fleon was still talking when Boyd got his chance to use his newfound class. Almost immediately a ruffian rushed at him. The ruffian slashed twice and nicked Boyd’s shoulder when he tried to dodge:

Life: 43/47. You have a minor wound.

Boyd spun through the slash and whirled Souldrinker around at the man’s head. While he was off-balance and the blow didn’t strike true, Souldrinker easily cleaved a large slice between the man’s spinal cord and the rest of him. He crumpled instantly.

SYSTEM: Achievement unlocked: Unholy Knowledge of the Blade. Your bond with Souldrinker has been strengthened through feeding it the blood of others. You now have access to Souldrinker’s stat sheet and its skills. Souldrinker gains power as it collects more Souls. As you increase your Rank, Souldrinker will increase in power too!

Congratulations! You’ve bonded with a weapon of unlimited unholy power… as long as you can keep it happy! Souldrinker can hold the Souls of up to 5,000 entities. Each of its many powers costs between 10 and 100 souls to use. As long as Souldrinker holds Souls, you will remain uncorrupted, but watch out! Using Souldrinker without a Soul will result in your corruption. If you reach 1,000 corruption, the Blade will absorb your entire being and you will spend eternity in a wretched hell within the Blade as almost all who have wielded it before you.

Souldrinker loses one Soul per day.

Currently: 2,450/5,000 Souls.

You may never unequip this item if you are a Swordsoul.

Souldrinker has initiated a conversation with you. Do you accept?

Boyd mentally thought yes.

Harvest. Reap. Corrupt. Feed.”

What could only be called a menu popped into Boyd’s vision when he focused on Souldrinker. Boyd mentally noted that all of the aforementioned words had corresponding skills associated with them. Boyd mentally activated the “Harvest” skill.

The second nearest ruffian had closed in on Boyd and was preparing a fatal strike with his shillelagh. As he reared back, Souldrinker leapt in Boyd’s hands and impaled the ruffian through the eye. Blood showered the front of Boyd’s Def Leppard shirt. Souldrinker pulsed and the stain coagulated and the flew into the blade as it pulsed with demonic power.

Boyd, now with limited control over his hands and body, was further pulled into action by Souldrinker. He rapidly impaled each of the ruffians through some critical organ as he deftly dodged their blows, Souldrinker pulling him in each direction. In mere seconds, all of the Ruffians were dead. Fleon clapped at his performance. “Fine work Sir Boyd, fine work indeed.”

“Reap.”

Boyd, thrilled by the fact he still existed and dizzy due to the whirl of battle, mentally clicked on Reap without a second thought. Souldrinker pulsed with power and ethereal spirits rose from the ruffians bodies. The Fair Maiden screamed in terror.

"Yes, well, I am definitely not seeing this as if I saw what I think I just saw, I would be forced to act and thus I will be looking this way instead.” Fleon growled and then grabbed the Fair Maiden and turned his back on the scene.

“Corrupt.” Boyd mentally clicked Corrupt on his sword menu and the ethereal spirits of the ruffians writhed in agony. They stopped moving and were suspended as tendrils extended from the tip of the Blade into the spirits themselves.

"Indeed, looking this direction is preventing me from seeing something I can’t unsee that would require me to slay my new squire Sir Boyd, so I am definitely focused over here in this direction,” Fleon sounded increasingly angry.

"Feed.” Boyd mentally clicked on Feed and the tendrils began to pulse. The spirits quickly evaporated.

Currently: 2,378/5,000 Souls.

Would you like to Souldrinker to Harvest, Reap, Corrupt, and Feed from all Souls you destroy while within its malignant embrace. Y/N?

Boyd mentally clicked Y.

He was notoriously poor on following up on things, so automation was his friend. He wasn’t the brightest bulb, but when his bank had setup automatic bill pay, it had been a God send. Automatic Soul Reap should be useful too. Boyd realized that he had taken a net loss on Souls during the fight but hadn’t thought of the implication. Ah well, there would always be more bad guys out there in the world he thought. Boyd, never strong in math, assumed that the next batch would result in a gain of Souls and failed to acknowledge the fact this might yield problems in the future.

SYSTEM: You have gained 70 experience (60 bonus experience). You have achieved an additional rank. Would you like to spend your points in Monk (Unassigned) or Swordsoul.

Boyd picked Swordsoul.

Would you like to make this your default choice? Y/N.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Boyd clicked Y.

You are now a Rank 5 Swordsoul.

You gain 1 attribute point.

You gain 5 skill in Greatswords.

Your bond with your chosen weapon [Souldrinker, Harbinger of Doom, Drinker of Souls, The Bloodslave, That Which Was Possessed By He Who Is Doomed, Unholy Beacon of The Endless Night, The Wretched Finger of Bah’Xheael of the Ninth Layer of Hell] has strengthened. You gain 5 additional skill in Greatswords as long as you wield [Souldrinker].

You have learned Parry.

You have learned Unholy Parry.

Boyd investigated the icon for Greatswords to figure out exactly what 5 points did.

Greatswords (Combat skill) – Some swords are just ok. Some swords are sort of shitty. Some swords are great. Very cleverly you have decided to specialize in the great ones. Greatswords require two hands to use, but in exchange, as long as you hit something you should fuck it up pretty good. Each point grants 1% increased damage, 1% increased handling skill, and 0.05% chance to deal a Critical Hit which deals significantly increased damage.

“Hey Fleon, I Ranked up again. I got more points in Greatswords so I do more damage now. Also now I know umm… other stuff.” Boyd wasn’t sure what Unholy Parry was, but assumed Fleon would not approve.”

“I am proud of you Sir Boyd. You did not once stop to ogle the Fair Maiden’s exposed shoulder while you dispatched those foes.” Fleon glanced over at the Fair Maiden, “While on our holy quest we must expel impure thoughts. We cannot satiate our manly desires on pristine, untouched flesh. Only degenerates embrace these ideas and enter the brothels and whoresdens that line the canals.”

“The what? Also her shoulder? I didn’t even notice. What does that even have to do with Ranking up?” Boyd asked.

“Yes, the ruffian exposed her marvelous and immaculate naked shoulder. I saw her pale skin descend into the area where it met her heaving breasts, slowly jiggling up and down in her panicked state. I was not interested in it of course. I found it disgusting. Not near as foul as the disgusting den of inequity that is the Canal District though. The palaces of endless flesh and sin where any man can walk in and experience a lifetime of pleasure in a single evening with any species, race, gender or creature his sick heart desires for a small pittance of gold, even if he had spent his entire life in celibacy to preserve his purity for The Goddess.”

"You said this at the Canals? We might need to circle back on this one.” Boyd asked.

"Indeed!” Fleon answered. “And you Fair Maiden, may I return you from whence you came? I honor your chasteness in these trying times mi’lady. I promise thee safe passage.”

“Thank you mi’lord,” she replied. “I live just down the street, my father is a simple flower merchant. Can you accompany me?” She smiled coyly at Fleon.

"Certainly! Sir Boyd and I will gladly accompany you! Sir Boyd! Do not ogle the maiden’s exposed shoulder any longer, nor her comely hips or bulging breasts. We must only accompany her to her father’s doorstep, and never act on our strongest impulses even when she’s clearly super into me. She and I have both taken vows of chastity in honor of the Goddess.”

“I’ve taken no such vow mi’lord,” the young maiden said as she smiled coyly.

Fleon stared at the maiden for an overly long period, his gaze glancing up and down. “Sir Boyd! I have to retreat to my room immediately. I require prayer. Please return the Maiden on your own. Do not come in my room. I am very busy in prayer. Pay no attention to any noises. Those are prayers.” Fleon then left hurriedly in an uncomfortable walk.

Boyd looked at the Fair Maiden and sighed. “Alright, which house is it?”

The Maiden grabbed his arm and nudged him along the path, “Third house on the right mi’lord.”

Boyd and the Maiden walked together down the cobblestone street, her arm in his. She walked slowly and made small talk. Boyd, not being one for small talk and with little understanding of Courtly Romance, was anxious to get her home so he could read about Unholy Parry, which he was unfamiliar with, but very interested in.

When they arrived at her house, the Fair Maiden said, “Would you like to come inside Sir Boyd? My father is not home.”

Boyd’s mind was still adrift in the ideas of what might make a Parry “Unholy”. Notably, he didn’t understand what a Parry was to begin with, and had actually misread both the words as “Party” and “Unholy Party”. “Partying” he was highly familiar with, but he wasn’t sure if “Unholy Party” was something he could participate in or not. He was desperate to get to the bottom of what he thought might be the first useful skills he had acquired. He was also hungry though. “You got anything to eat?” he asked.

The Fair Maiden giggled, “Of course Sir Boyd, I’ve never had a Knight in my home. I’ve never even had a man in my home when my father wasn’t here…” She curtsied and ushered him in the house and offered him a bowl of mixed colorful fruits. He wasn’t sure what any of them were, but was always up for trying new foods, particularly when he was hungry. Boyd entered the house and set Souldrinker down beside him after taking a seat at the small table full of fruits. He did take a bit of an apple-esque one, but found it tart. He next tried a larger purple globe which he found delicious. Food in The Maze and on the Filary ship hadn’t agreed with him thus far, so he rapidly began devouring them.

The Fair Maiden reappeared. She had removed her vest and let down her hair. She was wearing a simple skirt and a sheer white blouse that left little to the imagination, particularly as it hung off the shoulder that Fleon had noticed. “Sir Boyd, would you have any interest in accompanying me to my quarters? I’m just so scared after those horrible men tried to hurt me. I’d feel safer if you carried me.” She shimmied and smiled at the end of her sentence.

Boyd looked at her and was immediately confused as his vision blurred.

You have resisted a Major Illusion (Intelligence <3, Uncultured Swine).

The house melted away and the purple globe that Boyd had been holding rotted away in his hand leaving a stinking piece of decaying fruit. The flowers inside the home wilted and a stench radiated throughout the air. The Fair Maiden’s beautiful exterior faded leaving in place a Hag. The Hag’s body was covered in scraps of hair and blood and grease stained robes. She had no legs, but rather had a stalk-like body that shimmied across the floor. She left piles of greasy miasma wherever she moved. She cackled as she raised her cane at Boyd. A glob of green acid leapt from the tip of her cane and struck him in the face.

Life 24/47. You are losing 1 life/minute to acid. You are losing 1 life/minute to Hag’s miasma.

“What the fuck lady I just fucking saved you, oh what the fuck are you?” He was furiously wiping the goof off his face, and had just put together that his day had taken a turn for the worse. He quickly scanned his new rival.

SYSTEM: Hag, Rank 33. The Hag is a mixture of Witch, Necromancer, and swamp creature. Their magic is derived from many sources, but typically involves rot and decay. You can think of them as gross sentient bog water and muck that can use magic spells. Much like B Real from Cypress Hill, they have Illusions and will gladly share those with you, so I wouldn’t trust your vision when they are around. Unlike most gross piles of spellcasting pond scum, they only eat meat i.e. you.

Two more green globs shot forth from her cane as the Hag continued to try and blast him with acid. Without any better means of dodging them Boyd rolled backwards onto the floor with both piles of acid narrowly missing him. He cracked his head on the hard ground.

Life 22/47: You are losing 1 life/minute to acid. You are losing 1 life/minute to Hag’s miasma. You are losing 1 life/minute to a minor head wound.

“What the fuck lady? Why’d you shoot me with acid? What the fuck did I do?”

More acid appeared on the horizon and was heading towards him. He rolled underneath the table and the acid barely missed. He wasn’t sure how much more acid he could take so he grabbed Souldrinker and hoped it would do the thing where it took hold again. Nothing happened though.

“Oh shit, uhh, Reap!”

Nothing happened, although it was a prime opportunity for another acid blast which Boyd took in the chest.

Life 8/47. You are losing 3 life/minute to acid. You are losing 1 life/minute to Hag’s miasma. You are losing 1 life/minute to a minor head wound.

Boyd had fallen behind the table and was now wiping acid off himself while he edged around the table. Boyd, unable to determine what to do, boldly threw his sword at her with all his might. It missed wide and he realized this was a poor decision. Between his limited sword skills and the lack of cooperation from Souldrinker, he figured this was probably the end of him.

The Hag cackled yet again, “I had hoped to ensnare your friend. His holy essence would enable me for years, but you will feed me for the time being. I will thrive off your rotted corpse.” She slowly wriggled her way around the table trying to get Boyd in range of her acid projectile.

Boyd’s vision went to white and he realized this was probably Heaven. He saw a shining man in golden armor he assumed was Saint Peter.

It was not Saint Peter.

It was Fleon.

“Death to your necromancy Hag!”

The Hag stumbled backwards firing acid bolts at Fleon’s chest but they fell harmlessly to the ground. He hefted the Blade of Light and Majesty and struck downwards, easily cleaving the Hag in two. Boyd, unable to determine what was happening from the blinding light of Fleon’s spell shifted helplessly along the ground. He felt a warm glow over him and realized Fleon was healing him.

Life 47/47.

“Sir Boyd! While I was finishing my prayers by myself alone in my room I happened to notice the corpses of the ruffians you defeated had devolved into fungi. Classical Haggish necromancy. I traced you to this building. I admire your bravery attempting to destroy a Rank 33 Hag by yourself, but you should’ve come and retrieved me. We could’ve defeated this evil together! I am sure you did this to protect that Fair Maiden. Thank you Sir Boyd, for your dedication to the service of Light and Majesty.”

“The Fair Maiden was the Hag.”

“Nay, Sir Boyd. The Fair Maiden was chaste and good. I would’ve noticed her Illusion. The Hag must have trapped her somewhere in the house. We should find her.”

“Nah. I seen her transform. The whole thing was a trap man. She was baiting you outside with the Ruffians because she wanted your holy essence or some such shit. She almost got me. Fleon is everything here trying to kill me?”

Fleon nodded affirmatively, “Yes. Most certainly. But that means when I was praying I was thinking of…” Fleon adjusted his armor. “It matters not Sir Boyd. Let us return to our inn.”

Boyd stood up expecting intense pain but was noticeably fine.

“Those healing spells sure are useful.”

“Indeed Sir Boyd, indeed.” Fleon was clearly distracted by something but Boyd couldn’t quite place it.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Boyd was laying on his bed when the thunder hit again. He knew what to expect this time.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zina was sitting in front the same desk as last time.

“First of all, we already talked about this, but you have to stop doing that thing or you’re gonna fuck this all up. Figure it out.”

“I didn’t ambush any Gorplings though.”

“Well it’s not that then is it. Figure it out.”

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“No, look, this action alone is probably going to get me in a lot of shit, so let’s make this fast. You’re a ticking time bomb. You’re too stupid not to die to some sort of Control spell fairly soon. I originally assumed that your dick would be what got you killed, but apparently your stupidity is unmatched. There is no way you should’ve survived that encounter with the Hag. Your overly pious joke of a High Paladin is only marginally better, so we need to make some fixes. Fleon actually gave me an idea for a clever solution for at least one of your problems, although Zenith only knows how we are going to fix your brain. When you awake, I need you to go to Fleon and say the following thing exactly….”