Arlan was at the apex when he brought down his instrument of death. There was no hesitation, only confidence in his actions. The orc commander’s greataxe was too heavy to swing upward in time. Arlan was too close for the greataxe, only the blunt shaft made contact with the steel cuirass worn by the young baron. But Arlan had already cleaved down the orc commander’s head.
The force from the shaft sent Arlan flying ten meters away. Although the cuirass took the brunt of the force, another strike would break through it. There was a bruising soreness in his side. Without the armor, his ribcage would’ve been destroyed.
Arlan landed on his feet clutching his sides as the orcs nearby were infuriated at the death of their beloved leader. They charged at Arlan with fury and weapons raised. Arlan couldn’t muster any more strength to fight against so many orcs at once. The tired warrior couldn’t even lift his weapon.
Timing. I hope I was right, or I’ll die here now.
Loud hail could be heard but it was not mother nature. It was the reinforcements from the Duke’s banner. Duke Louis Reeves was the first to appear, he’d destroyed all the orcs single-handedly with swift strikes from his long sword. Arlan’s unit of Knights surrounded him as guards while the rest of the reinforcements began to clash with the platoon of orcs. It was a one-sided slaughter in favor of the knights.
Arlan’s vision began to blur as he asked Knight Jocko for a report. Using such essence had taken its toll on his body.
“Milord, we linked up with the Duke’s banner and informed him. We instantly made haste,” said Knight Jocko as he remained vigilant of his surroundings.
“Good-” replied Arlan as he fainted.
The last thing Arlan could hear was the system voice announcing he was now level 8.
Before Arlan could open his eyes, he could feel his body in light pain and was immensely sore. He felt the warmth of his bed and his eyes slowly revealed his room back at Highmane. Two of his four maids, Jeanette and Maria were also in the room standing by his bed. Jeanette shouted at Maria to notify the Duke that his son was awake.
As Maria left, Jeanette asked Arlan, “Young Master, are you still in pain?”
“Yes but it isn’t that bad,” replied Arlan.
I’ve been shot and stabbed before. This pain is nothing compared to that.
“Everyone will be pleased to hear of your recovery. Rest easy, young master,” said Jeanette as she bowed and backed away. The young baron still got up despite Jeanette’s protests. The maid helped Arlan change into something more suitable to walk around in.
As he was finished, the door erupted open to reveal the Duke, his uncle Emile, and Emile’s family coming to see him. A familiar feeling swept through Arlan. Something warm and… caring. This was something he felt with his soldiers back on Terra.
“You’re finally awake, my boy!” exclaimed the Duke as he swept Arlan up. Pain and soreness erupted all over Arlan as his adopted father embraced him. Uncle Emile came by and patted his nephew. “Arlan, you are full of surprises!” said Count Emile.
“We were so worried about you! The Duke brought you back unconscious and we didn’t know what to expect,” said Countess Vivia. The two younger daughters hid behind their mother as a small tear crept down her left eye.
Arlan walked over and embraced the Countess for her love and care for him.
“Thank you, everyone. But I knew the Duke would come and I would be alright,” replied Arlan as he bowed.
Arlan exchanged his account of the events the day before with his uncle and father. The castle chefs had brought in meals and tea for the reunion in Arlan’s room. Everyone but the Duke was surprised at Arlan’s accounts of charging into a mob of orcs. Compared to other demi-humans on Althea, orcs were among the most dangerous and vicious. Diplomacy was a rare option with orcs.
The Duke had arrived just in time to wipe out the remaining orcs with the rest of his banner. The orcs were immediately routed and chased down. An investigation by the Midland Army was conducted under the supervision of Count Daxton Reeve. The presence of raider orcs in Northern Midland was strange since the orcs bordered the western regions.
The elves were from a trading company based in Eastern Midland. They were from the great forest regions to the east. A letter from the elves was given to Arlan and it detailed that if he were ever in Eastern Midland, to come to see the head office.
This would help greatly if I had the aid of a foreign trade company within Midland.
The Duke and Count Emile believed that the appearance of orcs was no random matter. They believe it was done intentionally by a third party to weaken the Northern Midland hold. Arlan agreed and surmised that it was the first move by the rebellious houses.
As the trio finished their discussion, everyone had left except his maids. Arlan resumed his rest by reading ministry reports in bed. These reports were left by Count Emile about the orc raids, rise in crime at Galdo city, bandit raids, and monsters appearing in the region. These contributed to the destabilization of the region. It was a common tactic used to weaken an area before an invasion.
The aroma of sweet lavender tea invaded the room. Maria had brought some tea. Arlan expressed his gratitude as he sipped on the honey-infused drink. Then the young baron dismissed the maids so they could get some rest for themselves. Arlan decided it was time to retire as well.
The next few days, Arlan resumed his training and education with his father and uncle. Arlan learned more about the geography and economies of each region while resuming combat training with his father. The encounter with the orcs had strengthened Arlan’s core to a third-tier white and was ready to advance into the next tier.
Normally, most adventurers, soldiers, mages, or knights could only peak at the third tier. Arlan was ready to advance at a young age. The Duke noticed this after measuring his son’s core with the red gemstone. “Arlan, my son, it’s time you advance your tier. Go to the center of the room.” ordered the Duke.
“Yes, father.” obeyed Arlan.
“Advancing your core can come in two ways, one is to await an advancement naturally or to absorb an extracted monster core.”
“Absorbing monster cores? Excuse my ignorance, father. I wasn’t aware it was possible.”
“It is a known method but monster cores are rare enough to come by. Killing a monster would rarely yield a monster core. It is a rare occasion to obtain one after killing a monster. The higher tier cores are even more expensive and rare.”
“I do not believe such an asset should be used on me.”
“Nonsense. You represent House Reeve and you’re my son. Fate has left a burden on your shoulders, you are to face those burdens with everything I can provide. Midland needs you at your best.”
“I see.”
Norman appeared with a red pillow and a small hand-sized orb. It was the size of a walnut. The orb’s color was mystical white with it a current of sparkles inside. Arlan could feel the intensity of at least a fourth-tier monster.
“Hold this griffin core in both your hands and intensify your essence and retract your essence at your peak. This should acclimate the essence together as one and absorb it into your core. Your body should be able to withstand this process.” stated the Duke.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Arlan nodded and began to push his essence into his hands. The orb reacted to the essence being melded together. It shined even brighter and the swirls rotated even faster. The young baron retracted his essence back into his core and he could feel sharp pains throughout his body as an extra influx of essence was flowing back through the lanes. A cry of pain was let out by Arlan, it was like tiny needles being flown through his veins.
Norman, Jeanette, and Maria were about to rush to Arlan’s side but the Duke lifted his hands to stop. “Any interruption will permanently hurt Arlan. Do not interfere. He’s a strong boy, he can handle it.”
As the final bits of essence slowed down, Arlan resumed a natural breathing pattern while profusely sweating into his clothes. He was almost at the point of collapsing. What felt like an eternity was only a mere half-minute of pain and intensity. The young baron had access to forty percent of his capacity now.
“Arlan, place your hand on the red gem. Let us measure your core.” ordered the Duke as Arlan followed suit. Everyone in the room let out a gasp. The gem reflected a fourth-tier white core.
The monster core was supposed to push Arlan into fourth-tier red but pushed even further. Arlan’s essence from before benefited even more from the monster core. Arlan was now almost as strong as his adopted father. The young baron began to waver and felt weak to the knees.
“You never cease to amaze me, my boy.” said the Duke as he signaled for the maids to take his son to his room. As Arlan was being carried to his room, he could hear a familiar female voice in his head. It was the system voice.
“You are now level 9. [Mana Manipulation] acquired. [Titan Strike] acquired. [Automatic Parry] acquired.” rang the system voice.
Jeanette and Maria brought Arlan back to his bed and began nursing him. Arlan was only used to this kind of treatment with field medics and nurses back on Terra.
Due to the strain on the body, monster cores could only be safely used once a year. Since they were incredibly expensive and rare, most waited out naturally to advance their tier.
Arlan felt incredibly fatigued and mentally exhausted from absorbing the griffin core. But that didn’t stop him from finishing his readings assigned by his Uncle Emile. The young baron read late into the night until he fell prey to slumber. Maria shifted the documents back to Arlan’s desk and tucked him in.
The next day, Arlan met with JD in the military district in southeast Galdo. Trent, Erin, and a group of thirty recruits were there as well. The barracks where the recruits trained also housed a courtyard. The trainees would live here, eat here and train here until they graduated into footmen.
The Duke wanted Arlan to form his own banner and originally insisted on transferring veterans from the Duke’s banner. Arlan told the Duke he’d be able to form his fighting force just fine. After seeing Arlan’s abilities to lead the Heracul Knights, the Duke had no reason to disagree.
A banner was typically led by an officer or nobleman. They could range from twenty men to a thousand. It was based on the officer’s rank or position. Banners could come together to form armies. This was how wars were organized on Althea by humans. Though a similar system was set up by demi-humans.
JD had assembled his platoon. They were all in formation. JD was assigned as the platoon sergeant. This promotion was a mix of JD’s talents and his familiarity with the young baron.
A short Midland Army Officer approached them from the corner of the barracks. His presence changed the entire atmosphere. Some recruits adjusted their posture in response. JD, Trent, and Erin knew exactly who it was.
Arlan was commissioned to a mid-level officer rank of a captain. This was necessary so he could command his own banner. He was also the youngest officer in the Midland Army. Most nobles at this age would still be in training for command or at an academy. Captains outranked lieutenants and cadet officers.
Everyone in the courtyard noticed that the new officer was a young boy with a lion’s sigil and captain rank. None broke their posture as the presence exuding from Arlan meant this was no humorous prank. The needle-sharp atmosphere penetrated most. Unbeknownst to his banner, Arlan had a decade of combat experience and leadership.
JD was at the front of his formation while three rows of eleven recruits were behind him. Each row had its squad leaders at the right side of the formation. Trent and Erin were first and second-row squad leaders. The third squad leader was a new face. A burly, brown-haired fifteen-year-old. The entire platoon was still made of teenagers from fifteen to seventeen. They were still recruits.
To introduce himself, Arlan centered himself in front of his platoon. “I am Captain Arlan Reeve. I’m the youngest officer commissioned in the Midland Army. Let that be a testament to my abilities.” stated Arlan to his banner, “As of today, you will train to become my first infantry platoon in my banner.”
Intrigue and excitement overtook the entire platoon. They knew of Arlan and his achievements against goblins and orcs. But the rumors were that he was a bit older and burly. Another factor that contributed to the excitement was that they were now under the Reeve’s Banner. Some harbor doubts and the rumors were just greatly exaggerated. The young baron predicted this and would have to prove himself.
“If you have doubts, step forward!” yelled Arlan. Ten of the thirty-four recruits stepped forward in response. Most were from the third squad, including the brown-haired third squad leader.
Arlan and JD nodded. They understood that Arlan needed to prove his strength to win the respect of his soldiers. Everyone except Arlan was still first-tier orange cores. JD was a first-tier white core.
Arlan ordered the rest of the platoon to step back to the edges of the courtyard while the young baron took to the center. “Alright, grab the wooden spears and swords. If you land one attack on me, I will concede my rank to you,” stated Arlan.
The ten recruits’ eyes widened at the potential of advancing their military careers. They lusted at the potentially easy task while grabbing training spears and swords. Like vultures, they surrounded Arlan.
Arlan drew a training sword and assumed a ready stance. Arlan activated [Automatic Parry], a Mar-Tech that allowed him to channel essence into deflecting attacks. As long as Arlan had the essence to match the speed and power of an incoming attack, his body would move on its own to parry or deflect the attack.
The doubtful recruits now hinted at some caution. One recruit, in particular, could not wait any longer and lunged at his new commanding officer with a training spear. The other nine recruits waited to see the results before acting. The training spear tip almost reached Arlan’s back but the young baron’s entire body turned into a blur. A loud thud rang through the courtyard as the training spear recoiled by itself.
Arlan had parried the attack and sent the spear flying along with its wielder. The remaining nine recruits were confused at what they saw. Four of the recruits decided to try their luck by attacking at the same time. The four-pronged attack was still not a match for the overpowered defensive measure.
The third squad leader readied himself with the other four remaining recruits. They charged at Arlan in a column formation blocking his sight of anyone behind the first individual. Normally, this would’ve worked but Arlan’s [Battle Trance] could pick up what they were doing.
Just like every challenger before, they were sent flying without ever landing a single hit on Arlan. Any doubt about the new Captain was now gone. The third squad leader approached Arlan and introduced himself while saluting, “Sir, I’m Recruit Dimitri, the third squad leader. I look forward to serving under your command!”
The other nine recruits followed Dimitri’s example and Arlan returned the salute to them all. Arlan was now established as the proper leader. They wouldn’t doubt his combat capabilities or leadership. Although they were all extremely weak, Arlan saw the potential to mold them into proper soldiers.
Arlan gave each squad leader a training manual to run through their squad while giving JD a weekly training schedule for the platoon. The way Arlan wanted to train his platoon was unique and different from the current standard Midland Army training program.
The first platoon’s daily training regimen was intense and unorthodox to this world. Arlan focused their training on unit maneuvers and physical training.
Now, this is something I’m good at. This reminds me of home and the Te’Vau. I hope they’re doing alright.
Two weeks had passed and Arlan’s banner continued their training even when he wasn’t around. The first platoon was given a new set of steel weaponry and steel cuirasses. Arlan used his gold to purchase the gear for his unit. This was done in preparation for a combat patrol.
Monsters had broken out all over northern Galdo City and the Adventurer’s Guild was overwhelmed with requests. Although the scouts report that most monsters were just low tier, the amount of them was nothing to ignore. Count Emile ordered all military units in Northern Midland to assist with the subjugation of monsters.
Although Arlan’s banner was still in training, all recruits were to assist with minor tasks and operations. His banner was assigned to investigate a monster sighting at the Galderan Mines. Galdera village was a few hours northeast of Galdo City and provided ores to Galdo City via the Galderan Mines. The area remained mostly untouched by monsters, a monster sighting by the miners sparked Count Emile to send Arlan and his Banner. It was an easy and important enough task to send Arlan. Count Emile knew he could depend on his nephew.
On the morning of Arlan’s departure date for Galdera, his banner had assembled at the front of the city gates. Arlan had donned his steel cuirass as well with his mithril sword. Among many differences, one in particular impressed local spectators and officials alike. Arlan’s banner now all wore a particular burgundy cape with the lion’s claw.
Many came to see off their sons and brothers but their other agenda was to see the young baron. They wanted to see the rumored child who fought against the orcs and goblins. Arlan noticed the number of eyes fixated on him, but it wasn’t anything new. Military achievements were celebrated and he’s always made a reputation for himself.
A familiar nobleman whom Arlan recognized as Ser Trent approached him. “Mi’lord, this is the official order from Count Emile. Show this to the Galdera’s Village Lord and you’ll have full power to investigate as you see fit. The Count apologizes that he cannot see you off but you’d understand.”
Arlan could feel an entirely different tone from Ser Trent. It was due to Arlan’s achievements, status, and the fact that he saved Ser Trent’s life from goblins. Arlan responded with, “Thank you, Ser Trent. I will do my best in the service of House Reeve. You are dismissed.”
“Mi’lord, I will return to my duties. Thank you for saving my life before. Good luck.” said Ser Trent.
Arlan turned to his troops and ordered, “Banner of the Claw, move out!”