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The Lion Knight
Chapter 002: First day jitters

Chapter 002: First day jitters

Instincts of a lion proved worthwhile, and Reginald automatically moved his upper body back, causing the man’s sword to miss it’s target.

The man looked at Reginald as if shocked that Reginald could move so fast. Reginald looked at the man, mouth open wider than that of a harlot, just as astounded at his newfound ability.

Maybe being as slender as a snake on a diet is not as bad as one would think. Skinny and tall or muscular and stocky. Dorkishly lanky or dashingly sturdy. Grass fed and green or broad shouldered and beefy.

The masked bandit sneered looking at Reginald’s sword of stick, “that’s your weapon of choice,” flicking his glinting sword in a most menacing fashion. Reginald gulped deciding this was definitely not the time to be synthesising a thesis on the best body type.

The two men circled each other. The first, more confident in his abilities than the king of the jungle; the second, knees knocking and teeth chattering. No prizes for figuring out who the latter was.

Reginald’s faithful audience in the trees above jeered in anticipation.

Feeling slightly encouraged by the people who probably saw his superiority, Reginald circled his stick above his head like a wand, hoping the man would think he had magical abilities and disappear. Seeing his efforts bore no fruit, he thrust his stick in front of him trying to vanquish his man with the power of the mind.

His opponent raised an eyebrow. Aha, I’ve got him there. He seems to not be used to facing such a majestic opponent skilled in methods of the mind.

The Voice from within spoke, always eager to knock Reginald down a few pegs. “No. I am sure he’s wondering whether temporarily staining his sword with your blood would lower the mood of the atmosphere.”

Cease your chatter, you unhelpful hellion! Reginald screeched to the Voice within.

The masked bandit seemingly cured of his bemusement gained a sudden burst of energy, lunging forward, his sword whistling through the air. Reginald managed to dodge the first strike and even the second, but although Reginald was moving like a butterfly, sadly, the other man was intent on stinging like a bee. The third whistle of the man’s steel sword came fast and furious towards his opponent’s midsection- which unfortunately happened to be Reginald’s midsection.

A sharp push from behind sent Reginald flying unto the floor like a winged squirrel with the face of a constipated cow. It took the wind out of Reginald’s lungs and left him panting for his next breath. Which human oaf, that obviously belongs in a deep dungeon, could wind I, Reginald the Great, in such a shameful manner?

With as must strength as a poor, winded, self-pitying lion could muster, Reginald turned around. He did so, one because he wanted to see who had the bravery to push the great being that was his own self on the ground, and two he hadn’t forgotten his opponent, and everyone whose anyone knows you should never turn your back to your enemy.

Looking left and right, absolutely and rightfully discombobulated, Reginald tried to find a figure in the shadows he was seeing that he could focus on.

As Reginald’s vision cleared up, he rose with alarm. Reginald had been pushed out of the way by the ‘fair maiden’ he was supposed to save. He stared at her in fright, that skinny chicken little had taken him on and nearly crushed his lungs. The why was obvious; she had done so to save her saviour who was himself in need of saving. But the how was puzzling and perplexing Reginald’s brain.

As Reginald checked his bodies for injuries- he had to, this vessel was proving to be weak, he noticed that the masked man who he had nearly forgotten was holding unto his shoulder and groaning loudly on the floor.

What luck. It seemed as if with all the flinging of the sword and it not meeting its target, the man had flung his arm out of its shoulder socket.

“That’s what happens when you overexert yourself.” Reginald mumbled. He tried chuckling in glee to add to the atmosphere of it all and commemorate his win with his obviously delighted audience who were throwing tomatoes down at him in wonder, but the knowledge that the girl had bested him so wouldn’t allow him.

Reginald raised his sword- stick- swordstick in victory towards the clouds trying to forget about his latest embarrassment. “My work here is done.”

[Congratulations!]

[You jumped, a new skill [JUMPING MACHINE] has been awarded]

[JUMPING MACHINE Beginner 1/5]

[+1 WIL, +1 STR]

[Well done.]

[You defended yourself in battle with a foe. A new skill [DEFENCE] has been awarded.]

[DEFENCE Beginner 1/5]

[+1 AGI, +1 END]

[VERY WELL DONE.]

[Due to using the makeshift sword, a new skill [SWORD WORK] has been awarded]

[SWORD WORK Beginner 1/5]

[+1 AGI, +1 STR]

[VERY WELL DONE.]

[Due to using the makeshift sword, a new skill [SWORD WORK] has been awarded]

[SWORD WORK Beginner 1/5]

[+1 AGI, +1 STR]

[EXTREMELY WELL DONE!]

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

YOU HAVE PASSED LEVEL 1- SAVE A FAIR MAIDEN, THE TEST LEVEL FOR BEING A KNIGHT. +200XP]

[YOU ARE NOW A KNIGHT AND ARE FREE TO TRAVEL THE KINGDOM TO BECOME THE BEST KNIGHT EVER]

[YOU HAVE BEEN REWARDED WITH THE TITLE THE LION KNIGHT]

[AS YOU ARE NOW A KNIGHT, YOU HAVE BEEN AWARDED WITH YOUR FIRST WEAPON- A SWORD OF STEEL.]

[BY NOW YOU SHOULD BE WELL ACQUINTED WITH YOUR HELPER. REMEMBER TO USE YOUR HELPER TO THE BEST OF YOUR ABILITY]

Name:

Reginald LION

Titles:

The Lion Knight

Current LEVEL:

2

Experience points:

200/1000

Endurance

+1

Willpower:

+2

Charisma

+2

Perception

+1

Agility

+2

Strength

+4

Primary weapon:

A sword of steel.

Secondary weapon:

Number of free stat points:

Skill menu

Inventory

-------

Reginald had nowhere to stay. He realised that when the woman that he had majestically saved at risk of his own life who he now knew was named Edith Buttons, had taken one look at his old, tattered clothes falling apart at their dredged seams- not in anyway suitable for a knight he had to complain- and told him that she knew somewhere that he could fill his belly and lay his head. Just about the time he was going to bid her farewell and tell her to take her stomach curling seduction elsewhere, he had remembered his predicament. So instead as the adaptable fellow he was, he put on his most charming smile remembering that humans showed their happiness by lifting both sides of their mouth.

The woman had let out a yelp at his newfound expression, in glee Reginald had thought, “in fear” the Voice had chirped in. But not listening to his biggest antagonist, Reginald got in the carriage that the woman had flagged down, sitting as far away from her as possible and shutting his eyes.

“You know I have to say the way you jumped in was simply remarkable,” Edith spoke breaking the silence and making Reginald jump. She chuckled a little, “the stick? Did you plan that? Simply superb stuff. The way you pretended to not know how to be a proper knight. You did a real good job at it too. I have never seen anything like it before.”

Reginald opened one eye and peered at her curiously, wondering where she got her sixth sense for detecting greatness.

“She’s just trying to save you from humiliation. We all saw you practically die” The Voice said. Rubbish, she quite clearly knows talent when she sees it, Reginald replied.

Reginald finally opened his eyes to look at the woman deciding that he could stomach her if she didn’t move too fast, “Thank you unreasonably skinny, scantily haired, nibbly nosed human for noticing my talents. I will take pity on your kind from now on remembering your flattery.” Reginald thought about it and added, “Flattery will get you everywhere. Unless I am feeling peckish. Then, of course, I’d eat you anyway.”

Edith laughed a little tentatively at first, but once warmed up she broke out into something that resembled what Reginald had seen hyenas do. As he was feeling a little homesick, the laugh made Reginald warm up to the woman a bit, not even fretting that she though his intimidation was a joke.

On the journey, the two spoke about the best knights in the country, particularly a man called Benjamin Armstrong to whom the woman was an avid fan. She said that he had braved all treacherous terrains known to man, had fearlessly saved countless civilians, defeated dragons, had gone up against the biggest and most formidable beasts and had emerged victorious every time.

Hearing all the courageous deeds that the man had done, Reginald felt inspired… and a little under the weather. He felt inspired to hide where no one could find him in case they called on him knowing his greatness to also perform such courageous deeds. When he looked down upon the human vessel he was given, he realised such a body was not made for such ghastly deeds. Courageous he now knew from their conversations was a clever euphemism for unrepentantly stupid. This must have been the type of propaganda that they fed soldiers before they went to war.

If this is what human women expected men to do, then he hoped such ideologies wouldn’t float around the animal kingdom to the lionesses. They would expect him to fight every battle, but he and every male lion alike knew, that their energy was best preserved only to be used when a suitable opponent arose. Meaning once in a blue moon.

Reginald shuddered at the thought, he was best off with measly characters like thief, rogue and barbarian. If only he had known then what he knew now.

[HAPPY DAYS!]

[You have earned a new skill [SOCIALISATION] specifically for wild beasts.]

[SOCIALISATION BEGINNER 1/5]

[+1 CHA]

----

The carriage pulled up to their destination, a place called the Queenswood tavern. It was overflowing with joy told from the laughter and cacophony of voices spilling out to the street. True to its name the outside was made of wood, polished logs of a maroon brown, covering the outside of the building. Ivy, a tremendously deep colour of green circulated the gold sign up above. The boisterous ambiance was all rather welcoming.

So, this is where all the live feed gathered, Reginald thought. If Reginald had known this back in the jungle, he would have never gone hungry. He would have just taken a trip here, calling it a picnic day, it would have been fun for the cubs. The thought of his young made the corner of Reginald’s eyes water a little. How could he, a champion lion, the very best in the business, be unwillingly taken away from his home and providing for his children to be worked like a dog?

“You did rescue me, but unfortunately I can’t give you much.”

Reginald shook his head in pity for the poor woman. Double whammy. As if one struggle isn’t enough. She happens to be poor on top of ugly. Now that she was turning out to be a friend- or rather a great butler in the bootlicking business, he was starting to feel sorry for her.

“This place, however, belongs to my papa. I am sure he will gladly take you in.”

Reginald grunted in response walking with the woman towards the tavern.

The Voice hissed, “the correct answer is Thank you. You might want to be homeless, but I’d rather not be stuck with only you… No offence.”

Reginald grunted again.

His hardest challenge yet. They had told him this day would come. The hardest day in a young lion turned weak, measly human’s life. The day he had to use his words and voice his thanks. And to a lesser species- a human- at that.

“Th-tha-th-tha-thanks.” Reginald whispered as loud as he could, which coincidentally wasn’t all that loud.

[Well done.]

[You have levelled up one of your skills, [NOBLE], for being an honourable man]

[NOBLE Beginner 2/5]

[+1 CHA]

[Well done.]

[You have earned a new skill [MANNERS], for your love of being polite]

[MANNERS Beginner 1/5]

[+1 CHA]

Although Reginald had murmured like a mime in a library, the woman picked up what he was saying straight away. Reginald paranoidly peered at the woman in wonder. His enemies; they never missed a chance to witness his shame. Could she be?...

“No worries. I should be saying thanks to you,” Edith smiled.

She’s clean. Just as I thought. If Reginald knew exactly where this Voice servant was, he would have shot him a scolding look and bared his sharpish teeth in warning to him. How dare he make Reginald say thanks when Reginald was obviously the one who should have been on the receiving end?

Walking into the tavern proved that the inside was just as lively as the noise from the outside would imply. Around every round wooden table, a group of friends were laughing merrily, clinking their mugs of ale and tucking into some hot grub. On a slightly raised platform at the end of the bar, an entertainer could be seen playing the flute and another man right next to him playing the fiddle.

But although the ambience seemed positive, there was a rather ominous feeling in Reginald’s belly. A lion’s sixth sense, if you will.