Chapter 6.5: The First Display
When Midvale first laid eyes on the foreigner, who was wearing the shabbiest equipment he had ever seen, Midvale thought the man couldn’t have been the one recommended by the instructor. ‘The bow’s quality… is poor, the armor… is nonexistent, the sword… seems fairly basic, but it has good quality. Is this really a man the instructor told me to reserve a position for?’ Midvale asked Weed a question.
“Greetings. Are you Weed-nim?”
The foreigner replied with “Yes, sir.”
‘Is he really prepared? No horse, lack of armor, and the backpack does not look like it has many supplies’, the knight thought, before bringing up the topic.
“Our destination is far away. It takes three hours on horseback.”
Silence followed the statement. Inside, the knight sighed to himself, before lending the foreigner a horse. It was a favor for an acquaintance, so Midvale had to follow through, on his honor as a knight.
‘We should get going now. I can’t keep these soldiers here for too long.’
Midvale looked at the foreigner. The foreigner was staring at the borrowed horse with a face expressing the intent to kill. Before it got too out of hand, Midvale began to depart the regiment.
NPCs in a game are just that. Non-player controlled. Despite any realistic setting, NPCs are there to give players quests, supply them with items, and become the supporting pillar. At least, that’s how NPCs are in normal MMOs. Royal Road, however, wasn’t the average MMO that you’d find in the half-off shelf at the store. Using innovative and futuristic technology, combined with advanced and complicated coding, the AIs live and breathe in their virtual world just as normal people in their real world. Every NPC in Royal Road has a history, emotions, a family, and their own, separate life. Players are free to insult, compliment, buy, sell, and generally interact with any NPC just as they would with a normal person. Based on your intimacy level with an NPC, you may get various benefits. Above all, you may be able to unlock new quests and find out an NPCs background. In the virtual reality, NPCs are the humans, and players are the foreigners.
Weed didn’t have much to do on the way to the Lair of Lidvart. He managed to, at the very least, get on the pitiful colt and start the trek. At first, Weed decided to take a nearby block of wood or a large stone to sculpt. ‘Hmm, this one looks about right. The knight said three hours. How many sculptures can I make in three hours? ‘Huhuhu, how much money could I make from those sculptures?’ On the outside, Weed looked like a newb beginning his first adventure outside the castle walls. As long as one managed to avoid looking at the horse, from afar, Weed looked like a normal beginner with a wide, seemingly pure smile on his face. If one were to look bit closer, you could see small bends in his smile. It looked like a completely rotten smile, one you’d see on a businessman about to rip off his customers! Weed started sculpting a block of wood, immersing himself in his long-honed concentration. He received a few looks, some of wonder, some of contempt, and some of ridicule, but he didn’t notice the gazes at all. After just a few minutes of sculpting, though, he heard a loud voice.
“Weed-nim, please pay attention to the road. Your colt is currently feeding on grass. You need to hurry, lest you be left behind.”
“…!”
When Weed heard the voice, he slowly looked at his colt. Then he flew into a fit… inside his head. ‘Can’t make a bad impression… can’t make a bad impression… can’t make a bad impression…’ Weed was trying to convince himself not to shout at the colt after giving it a thorough beating. ‘You think I’ll let this slide? HUH?! You should know your place, bastard!’ After constant insults at the colt in his mind, Weed calmed down enough to think reasonably. Just like how he got the colt to begin walking, he continually flattered it, throwing away his pride, to get the colt moving again.
‘That’s solved… time is money!’
Weed continued to sculpt after the small incident, but not even one minute after that, the colt strayed off the path. Once again, the knight shouted at Weed, and once again, Weed shouted at the colt (in his mind), before 'persuading' it back on the path. After multiple repetitions of the pattern, Weed was ripping out his avatar's hair as he contemplated his life's purpose. 'If time is money…and this bastard is taking my time…then it’s taking my money! MY MONEY! HOW DARE YOU!' Weed couldn't yell out, as he risked disturbing soldiers and removing any chance he had of establishing connections amongst the army.
In the end, Weed had to give up sculpting for the trip due to the colt. To make up for it, he observed his surroundings. He looked at the soldiers on their horses. He observed their habits, their chatter, their armor, and their equipment. ‘Basic Iron Armor, 50000 won; Iron Sword, weaker than my sword, 30000 won. It’s not much, but it’s still enough for a few days of food…’ Weed was giving off quite an evil gaze, enough to pierce the armor of the soldier and make the soldier shudder. Weed quickly looked away as the soldier turned around to see where the evil gaze came from. This happened frequently and constantly, and roughly 30 minutes away from the dungeon, a rumor sparked of an evil presence lurking in the shadows to follow the regiment.
After setting the colt back on track again, Weed examined his surroundings for the first time. A bright blue sky with few clouds, along with the sun shining down onto the trees gave the impression of the nice weather. The trees swayed their green leaves against the gentle breeze, which folded around the regiment. The clopping of the horses on the dirt path created a rhythmic beat one could not help but want to fall asleep to. As Weed observed nature, he decided it would be best if he got a little rest, and shut his eyes.
At least, he wanted to, but his colt decided it was the right moment to bounce around. A sudden bounce, combined with a dropkick, pummeled Weed to the ground and awakened him to reality, where he could have no rest at all. Fury boiled inside Weed as he felt his face turn hot. At last, Weed couldn’t hold back anymore.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Excuse me, sir. May I pick herbs in the forest?”
The knight, most likely misunderstanding Weed’s intentions, nodded his head quickly while saying,
“You may. However, I request you be quick about it.”
Although it was rude, Weed turned his back on the knight immediately after getting confirmation. He couldn’t wait for the “punishment” he would release on the colt.
A few minutes later, some soldiers reported hearing screams that sounded like they came from a dying animal.
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Midvale was a young, respectable knight. He started training with the sword at a young age. His sword trainer was the same as Weed’s, the instructor. One day, he was found by a knight, who appointed him as a squire. From there, he gained the knight’s trust and was assigned to tasks. As he got older, his talents and achievements became more widely recognized and he became a knight. After constant work and dedication to the sword, he finally managed to become a knight of the Red Order, the protectors of Rosenheim Kingdom. He was one of the elite.
That’s what he believed until he saw a talent that shined like the sword of an emperor.
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As soon as the regiment arrived at the Lair of Litvart, Midvale ordered a soldier to attend to the horses, as the dungeon was too cramped for the horses, and they had a risk of getting killed. The regiment entered the lair, with Midvale at the back.
“Ready for battle!”
“Set battle formation!”
Using a preplanned formation, Midvale had the punitive force shield their front with steel bucklers, with spears at the front line, and with swords behind them as a backup. Midvale then remembered the foreigner. He approached Weed.
“Is that all you have, Weed-nim?”
“Yes, sir.”
If Midvale hadn’t had experience of facing the unknown, he would have had his jaw drop to the ground. To go to battle with such terrible equipment was practically suicide! Retaining his composure, Midvale replied in a monotone fashion.
“You are poorly armed to fight on the front line. Stay behind and support the troops”
“Yes, sir.”
At this point, Midvale didn’t expect much, especially after the rumors on the trip, which Midvale knew Weed was the culprit of. However, his acquaintance asked, and that person didn’t get along with just anybody. The foreigner must’ve had SOME kind of talent.
Midvale watched the punitive force fight against the kobolds. To him, they were small fry, which could always be killed in a few hits. He also saw the foreigner following the troops. The troops engaged the five kobolds that were gathered around a bonfire. Midvale had the leisure of examining their camp. Poorly built wooden structure surrounded by a badly designed wooden wall, with a fire at the center seemed to be their equivalent of shelter. The layered dungeon cave with stone bricks all around the place created a threatening atmosphere, but all creepiness nulled with the vast amount of the foreigners walking around, creating noise. To Midvale, the ongoing battle was quite dull. It involved weak soldiers fighting weak monsters. That’s all it was to him.
Midvale looked at the recruits. He needed to get them trained, and fast. He had borrowed new recruits from other regiments, so he had a time limit to how long he could keep them. He needed to clear out the Lair of Lidvart as quickly as he could. In order to do that, he needed strong soldiers. He didn’t need weak ones that would die from something as small as this.
The battle progressed, with the soldiers in a linear formation against the Kobolds. Due to the soldiers’ supremacy in both equipment and numbers, their side won with few casualties. Midvale commanded two soldiers to gather the loot the kobolds dropped when they were defeated. He had three objectives assigned to him. To train the new recruits, restore security to the outskirts of Rosenheim, and collect items. Although the items were weak due to the low level of the Kobolds, the small pieces of copper and scrap iron could still be useful for certain tools.
Midvale ordered the punitive force to continue advancing. Midvale hoped to quickly enter the second floor, but he couldn’t afford to tire the soldiers out, preventing them from fighting at full strength. In the next battle, Midvale happened to notice the foreigner shooting arrows at the kobolds. ‘His attacks are surprisingly accurate. The instant kill with the bow is impressive, considering his equipment.’ If Midvale realized what Weed was actually doing, he probably would never have thought that. Midvale ordered the soldiers to rest for the moment.
“Take a rest and prepare lunch.”
The soldiers did as Midvale ordered them to. The two soldiers Becker and Buren prepared their tools and began to cook. Midvale himself had eaten the food, and it was as tasteless as the barley bread one could get from a street vendor. At that point, Midvale saw the foreigner talking to the two soldiers. Afterward, the foreigner cooked the meal. ‘Well, at least he is doing something,’ Midvale thought.
That was the first of the many talents the shining star displayed on that trip.
Midvale saw (and smelled) the stew that Weed was making. It had a fragrant scent. When he saw the soldiers enjoy it, he thought, ‘that must be his talent. Okay, then.’ He walked up to Weed.
“Weed-nim, would you care to keep serving my men?”
Best make use of talent where it is. That’s what Midvale thought.
“Yes, sir. I will take care of meals.”
Weed accepted. Satisfied, Midvale walked away. However, he stopped when he heard the voice again.
“Weapons and armor, I can fix them! Bring me anything damaged or destroyed if you have them.”
‘There’s no way he can do that. I’ve never heard of a blacksmith cook.’ Midvale doubted his ears. At some point though, the soldiers gave their equipment to Weed and he repaired them. ‘That’s good though. This helps a lot with time.’ Midvale was, at this point, thoroughly satisfied with the foreigner’s role. The break eventually ended, and the punitive force continued on.
The foreigner continued to instantly destroy kobolds on the first and second floors with the shot of a single arrow during battle. Outside of battle, not only did the foreigner cook and repair, he also tended to the wounded with herbs and bandages. It was an impressive feat. The soldiers’ views of the foreigner now had respect.
Midvale thought they had spent enough time on the first and second floors. He moved the punitive force to the third floor, where there were goblins in the level 50’s. The soldiers were in their 20’s, but the numbers should make up for that. At their first encounter, Midvale commanded,
“Watch out now. If you find yourself in danger, retreat immediately.”
“Yes, Commander!”
“They are coming. Get ready!”
Midvale watched the battle unfold with cruel eyes. However, what betrayed his expectations was the foreigner, who was essentially the caretaker of the punitive force, went to the front lines with a sword, fighting the goblins wielding spears. The foreigner looked to be just barely dodging the attacks. Midvale saw the troops reaction, realizing the logic behind it. If the weak supporter can go against the goblins, the strong front lines can defeat them! It was an excellent use of tactics. Morale is a key component to the fighting power of an army. Using the morale Weed built up, he managed to remove the soldiers’ fear, while instilling them with the courage to stand up to monsters twice as strong as them. Through his command, the soldiers were lead to victory.
Midvale watched this scene unfold with eyes of admiration. The soldiers, full of respect for Weed, started cheering his name. The scene of a commander in a bad situation, using tactics to turn the situation around, and saving soldiers in peril. The scene of a commander who truly cared about his soldiers. It was etched in Midvale’s head. As he looked at the scene, he resolved,
‘I will become a commander who cares about his soldiers, and one day, I will be similar to you.’
END OF STORY