Juruk sat astride his mount, Kashtor. The spined-knight-raptor had grown massively, but so had Juruk. The once short goblin now stood a little under six feet and had bulked out as he earned and raised new abilities. He was the chief of the Warlord’s tribe and so it was his duty to be the strongest.
The orc war party readied their spears against them. They had ventured into the Ancient Forest from the northern moors looking for beasts and small humanoid tribes to raid and enslave. Juruk had started with a few hundred goblins, now several thousand followed him. Those goblins blessed by the Warlord still rode with him the elite of their army. The other goblins had to prove themselves and so were deployed as archers or infantry.
The five-hundred orc war party roared their war chief leading the charge. Juruk screamed out a challenge and his warriors took up the call their death call echoing through the forest. Kashtor lunged forward and Juruk led the charge. He had been weak once, but the Warlord had shown him what strength was and how to claim it. Only by embracing death could he become great and lead his people.
Swinging low off his horse Juruk decapitated an orc with one of the swords the Warlord had given him. An orc pushed off a low boulder raising a two-handed battle axe high overhead to cleave Juruk in two. A short javelin from another raptor-rider took the orc in the chest and tossed him back.
The goblin foot soldiers swarmed the front line of the orcs. They were shredded and splattered across the ground but served to break their charge. The counter charge hit as the raptor riders swarmed into the orc’s midst.
Juruk headed straight for the orc war chief. While Juruk had grown much bigger the orc war chief still towered over him. Swinging a two-handed sword to decapitate him Juruk slid in the saddle hanging off the side as the sword passed overhead before righting himself in the saddle.
Parrying the next strike that struck at his mount Juruk swung at the war chief’s thigh. Blocking it on his armor the war chief retaliated but Kastor’s tail whipped out around hitting the war chief in the back of his legs. The spines on Kashtor’s tail ripped through skin and muscle. Juruk leaped off and collided with the war chief. The war chief tried to struggle against him and shove him off, but Juruk pulled a dagger and began savaging him. Plunging the dagger in over and over again Juruk didn’t stop till he got the notification for the war chief’s death.
Raising his face to the sky Juruk howled his victory call taken up by the rest of the tribe.
----
Kas’tu was furious. The news that the Dragon Clan had cursed their sacred animal had gone over as you would have expected. I hadn’t realized just how significant their actions had been. To kill the Sacred Animal of a clan you had declared war on was something but to attack without first declaring war was a sign of cowardice. The Bear Clan promised to support the Wolf Clan against the Dragon Clan. I didn’t care; I had my own plan for dealing with the Dragon Clan and it didn’t involve support from either of the other two clans.
For now, I’d use this as a spot to rest and train. The clan had their own enchanter and weapons trainer. I’d use the time to work on better learning to fight as well as learning new enchantments. The enchanter had been hesitant to teach me his skills at first but being the Warlord had its benefits.
“I’ll teach you, but you must promise to only ever show my enchantments to your own apprentice someday and not to sell them to another enchanter,” the bear clan enchanter told me.
“Couldn’t someone just study the design to figure out how to remake it?” I asked.
“They might learn the rune,” the enchanter snorted. “But the gemstone and technique used to apply it are very different.”
He left out the part about me being an idiot for asking but it was implied. I ignored the veiled insult; I preferred people that were blunt and rude. Politeness and niceties were just ways for people to get close so they could screw you over later. You knew where you stood with someone who was an ass to you, there was no pretense, and you could trust them to treat you the way they said.
I copied down the runes he showed me as well as the gemstone used in the enchantment. There was an enchantment to add fire damage to a weapon by using kyanite. My reward for completing the System quest had given me knowledge of the old magic; what that meant in practice is that I could read every rune I saw. I didn’t know every rune in existence but once I looked at a rune I could instinctively tell what it meant.
“Why is there are runes for blood in your fire enchantment?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Lazar, the enchanter asked looking up from the battle axe he was engraving.
“Your fire enchantment has the rune for blood in it,” I said pointing to the rune in question which was linked in the sigil pattern to the runes for heat and fuel.
“You can read runes?” Lazar asked surprised.
“Wait you can’t?” I asked. “How do you do this if you can’t even read your own work.”
Lazar looked both irritated and embarrassed. “I just copy the enchantment as it was shown to me by my master. Only sages and shamans can read any of the ancient runes. How many runes do you know?”
“The system gave me knowledge of the old magic as a reward for a quest,” I said. “I haven’t come across a rune that I couldn’t read yet.”
“Incredible,” Lazar breathed out his voice low with awe.
“What would happen if I were to remove the rune and just complete the sigil without it?” I asked.
Lazar took a big step back from me. “You’d probably create a large explosion,” he said dryly, the awe gone from his voice. “Enchantments are dangerous, you’re flooding an item with mana, even a single point of mana is massively destructive, but an enchantment will eat up at least a hundred if not more. If the enchantment isn’t stable all that energy gets released at once except now it’s infused into metal. Imagine shards of metal smaller than a grain of sand traveling as fast as lighting ripping through the air. I’ve heard of apprentices trying to experiment being turned to red mist when that happens.”
“So, you’re saying experiments away from others,” I said with a nod.
“No,” Lazar growled. “I’m saying don’t do it. It’s foolish and dangerous, you may be able to read the runes, but can you tell me honestly that you understand their formations? To answer your earlier question about the rune I would have to guess that it’s a trigger for the enchantment. When the weapon tastes blood its edge bursts with flame.”
“If you were to remove the rune there would be no trigger for it. What happens then? Does it stay on fire until it runs out of mana, or does it become unstable and explode? I don’t know and I don’t care to find out either,” Lazar stated and turned his back on me.
I dropped the subject. I did want to experiment with creating my own enchantments, but he was probably right, and I should wait until I had an idea about what I was doing.
Lazar taught me the two other enchantments he knew. One for an ice resistance that could be applied to armor or shields and the other that could be applied to weapons; it allowed you to regain health when drawing blood from a creature.
The healing effects were weird. I had mana and stamina but there was no health bar, effects that would be lethal on Earth were still lethal here. There were no hit points someone would have to reduce before they could kill you. Stab to the heart or hearts in my case, dead. Cut off the head, dead. Eviscerate them, dead. You could survive if you managed to heal yourself quickly enough I knew that from experience but if you couldn’t you would die. As you got stronger it took way more to do that and wounds would become less deadly, and you’d be able to survive longer without certain organs but other things like decapitation would always be instantly lethal.
Wandering over to the training area I watched as the men sparred with each other. The bear clan tended to favor axes but there was a mixture of other weapons among them. The master-at-arms walked up to me.
“What can I do for you Warlord?” he asked.
“I’m looking for some weapons training,” I said.
“Certainly,” he agreed. “Do you mind me asking what your current weapon titles are?”
“My what?” I asked.
Everyone within earshot turned to stare at me.
“Your weapon titles my lord,” the master-at-arms stated again. “The titles that increase your damage with a certain type of weapon based on your skill.”
“The closest I got to that is Bloody Pugilist,” I said.
“Never heard of that one before,” the master-at-arms said.
“It increases my unarmed damage,” I said.
“So, you favor fighting with your fists?” he asked me.
“No,” I said. “I usually fight with my clubs or a spear. I was told I lacked the necessary traits for learning the sword.”
“Well, if you don’t have any weapon titles, I can see why they thought that,” he said with a sigh. “If you’re starting from nothing, I can at least get you to novice in clubs and spears. Do you have any base training?”
“Just what I’ve learned in combat and from the Wolf Clan,” I said. “I only ever studied martial arts that relied on punching before I came to this world. Probably how I got that other title.”
“That would explain it,” the master-at-arms agreed. “I’ll get Ortuk to train you in maces, he’s got the Master Bludgeoner title so it should be no problem with him getting you the novice title and maybe even apprentice. After that, I can put you through your paces with the spear.”
I spent the next nine hours in hell. It turned out Ortuk was a mountain of a man, I had thought I was done with other people towering over me as I’d grown in size, but Ortuk looked half giant. He was at least ten feet tall and swung a club made of some strange wood. He had me swinging a club he made me compress that weighed twice my body weight in both hands then trained me with two clubs that each weighed as much as me in both hands.
When people learned about my Compress Earth, they had me create dozens of training implementations. Weighted weapons and even a bench press. When your might went up a certain amount regular metal just couldn’t hold up to the strain of the weight you had to put on it. Ortuk had me create weights to hang over my back and strap to my arms and legs.
The whole thing reminded me of the cursed prairie as I was slowed to a crawl and forced to block, parry and attack Ortuk while carrying five times my body weight. He struck at me, and I wasn’t allowed to use my usual tactics of teleportation or Phantom Form to avoid the hits.
I cursed my Troll Hide ability, if I hadn’t had it then Ortuk would have been forced to give me a chance to rest and heal from my beatings. When he learned it Ortuk had given me a huge smile that chilled me to my core. He’d gathered all the children in the clan to pelt me with stones until I learned to block them with my clubs. It was like the devil’s baseball as I was pelted with fist-sized rocks the children shrieking with delight whenever they connected.
Before I would have said that I liked kids, now I hated every last one of them. In the end, though my torture was worth it.
You have completed a hidden objective and earned a title. Objective: learn the basic proper ways of attacking and defending with one-handed and two-handed blunt weapons.
Reward: Novice Bludgeoner.
*Novice Bludgeoner: Trained in the use of maces and clubs you are a beginner but have some skill with these weapons. Your damage dealt with clubs and maces is increased by one stage.
You have completed a hidden objective and earned a title. Objective: Learn how to properly and consistently deflect projectiles with a weapon in your hand.
Reward: Novice Deflector.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
*Novice Deflector: Instead of using a shield you have learned to use your weapon to anticipate and block projectiles. You can instinctively tell the angle at which objects are coming from and where your parry will redirect them towards.
Foresight had been the reason I’d gotten the last title, letting me put my weapons in front of the rocks before they hit and knock them out of the air. It hadn’t been perfect the weights I was wearing had slowed me down and the sheer number of rocks thrown at me had made it impossible to block even half of them. I swore there were at least three children for every adult in the clan.
I stumbled towards the quarters I’d been assigned. Wiping myself off with my cleansing cloth the accumulated grit and sweat were removed. I was fully recovered by the time I got to my quarters my aches fixed by Troll Hide and both resource pools filled. Two women were stretched out on my bed.
They stood and bowed. They each only wore a silk robe that left nothing to the imagination but still had the effect of alluringly covering everything.
“Greetings Warlord,” the girl on the left said. She was a brunette with long wavy hair and flawless tawny skin. “I am Morsi, and this is my sister Mirsha, we are the daughters of Kas’tu and are his gift to you.”
I sighed. “Listen, you ladies are very attractive and pleasing on the eyes, but I have no interest in a harem or time for siring children.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Please return to your father and let him know that while I appreciate the gesture, I will not be able to accept it. This is not a slight against either you two or him. I have a mission from Kelesa and can abide no distractions regardless of how pretty they are.” I figured that the religious angle was the best way to get these people off my back.
“As the goddess wills,” they said bowing. They pulled off thicker fur robes and left.
Sitting down on the bed I sank into the furs and fell asleep.
--
“Mordred!” Sarah called out.
I looked up and flashed her a grin. “What’s up?” I asked shutting my locker and shouldering my backpack.
Sarah was tall with dark brown hair and blue eyes. She had a cute, upturned nose and a spattering of freckles across her face. She wore a fuzzy green sweater and knee-high skirt today her sneakers worn from her track running.
“I’m going to be busy later today,” she said. “I’ve got extra practice after school.”
“No problem,” I said. “I’ve got karate after, so I probably won’t see you until tomorrow.”
“I don’t know why you don’t do wrestling instead,” Sarah said. “You could make a lot of friends and get involved with the school more.”
“Karate was recommended by my therapist to help with controlling my emotions,” I said with a shrug. “Besides I like it.”
“Did you finish your part of the project for English?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah,” I said handing a folder with my part of the written assignment.
“Love you,” Sarah said kissing me than skipping down the halls.
Memories blurred as half-recollected places and events sped through my mind. This was the second high school I’d been to. After moving from foster home to foster home and being kicked out for getting into fights all through my middle school years I’d finally found some stability. The blurring memories stopped, and I was in the middle of my senior year.
The track field sat next to the football field. I kicked off my motorcycle, it was an old rundown thing, but I’d bought it with money I’d earned working over the summer and my foster father’s permission as a reward for good behavior. Slamming past a group of my fellow students I moved toward the football team as they were practicing on the field.
Our team had won seven of our last games and was on track to win state championships. I didn’t pay much attention to school sports besides watching Sarah’s track meets. But today I was here to see our star quarterback. Michael Hearth had blonde hair and a square jaw he was from a wealthy family and was considered to be the best-looking guy in school.
And he’d been fucking my girlfriend.
My feet collided with his chest in a flying kick that sent him to the ground. I’d been moving too fast for anyone to react. I was on top of him fists pounding into his face. I felt hands on me and was pulled off but not before I’d left Michael’s face a bloody wreck.
--
My eyes snapped open there was a light in the room and l looked down to see my veins glowing red my nails cutting deep into my palms a black mist starting to rise from my skin as Magma Heart(s) and Black Rage activated. Forcing myself to unclench my fists I let my abilities fade as I breathed out heavily. I’d thought I’d gotten over that old betrayal but apparently, I hadn’t. Or maybe it was just the changes I’d been going through that all seemed to focus on opening myself up to my rage instead of locking it away.
I sat down cross-legged and began meditating. I’d been given lessons in proper meditation when I’d taken karate, it was part of the reason my therapist had recommended them. It was supposed to help me center myself and find inner peace. Now I just meditated on the rage; peace was overrated and unlike the fury, it wouldn’t give me any strength or resolve.
The next few days were devoted to my continued training in enchanting and weapons training.
“How do titles work?” I asked Lazar one day as we were working together on a special battle-axe.
“What do you mean?” Lazar asked.
“All these abilities say they add extra damage what does that mean?” I asked.
“It means exactly what it says,” Lazar sighed. “It adds more damage.”
“I get that,” I said rolling my eyes at his unhelpful answer. “More fire damage equals a hotter fire, more lighting means more electricity. But titles like Novice Bludgeoner or Feral Barbarian add damage when I use a certain weapon or material to attack. How does the system increase that damage?”
“It doesn’t, at least not in a direct way,” Lazar said. “Let me ask you a question you’ve been training for the past three days have you noticed an increase in your skill?”
“Of course,” I said. “That’s why I’ve been training.”
“But it’s not just from your training,” Lazar explained. “Titles like Novice Bludgeoner don’t add direct damage to your attacks but instead they alter you. The system engraves knowledge about how to fight with maces and clubs directly into your mind and alters your body to give you muscle memory on how to use that knowledge. You don’t even notice it feels so natural but your increase in skill is much faster than could be accomplished by training alone.”
“What about titles like Fireproof?” I asked.
“Similar but instead of affecting your mind its changes to your body,” Lazar explained. “As gifted our bodies will mutate over time when we raise attributes to the next stage but titles like that are micro mutations. The system can subtly impact our bodies to encourage these mutations, but the body still needs to be put under the right circumstances to trigger those mutations.”
“Are you implying that those mutations would take place even if the system wasn’t there?” I asked.
“It would take much longer but yes,” Lazar agreed with a nod of approval. “Think about it, when you cast a spell how much mana does it cost?”
“A lot, usually around fifty to sixty mana,” I said.
“How would a regular person ever cast a spell then?” Lazar asked.
“They couldn’t,” I realized. “But magic as I understand predates the System.”
“It does, the Ancients had ways of triggering mutations on their own, it was painful and deadly, but they could raise their attributes without the need for slaying monsters. Our stories tell of the time before the system, but the legends are too old to be relied on.”
Going back to the enchantment I helped Lazar finish the enchantment then strengthened the steel of the axe for him improving the weapon’s quality threefold.
My work in the training yard had not lessened in intensity. Ortuk and master-of-arms Rashen took turns finding new ways to torture me with creative training exercises. I never complained about the hardness of their training though, I needed this to become strong and would do whatever I needed to reach the next milestone.
Blocking Ortuk’s club with my stone training implement I ducked and stabbed at Rashen’s belly with my training spear. This was part of their new strategy for training me. Since my time to learn the spear and club was limited, they had decided the best way would be to do both at the same time.
I rolled, and Rashen’s spear stabbed painfully into my side as I was unable to dodge it. Pushing myself to my feet my club spun about as I deflected a trio of stones thrown by a group of children chosen for having the best aim. Ortuk charged forward, I sidestepped, kneed him in the chest, and slammed my club into his back. Rashen lunged forward with his spear, I stepped into the attack letting the spear slide past me then pinned it to my side with my right arm holding the spear. I smashed my club down on the spear shattering it and then stabbed forward.
Rashen dodged my attack neatly by sidestepping it. He grabbed my spear shaft and yanked me forward. Unable to resist, I went with it as Rashen stole my weapon. I headbutted him in the chest as I stumbled forward. He wasn’t staggered but sidestepped and tripped me with my spear and putting the point at the back of my neck.
“Much better,” Rashen said with approval.
The battle was over, and a flood of system messages hit my senses. Opening them up I began to read.
You have completed a hidden objective and earned a title. Objective: learn more advanced ways of attacking a defending with one-handed and two-handed blunt weapons and increase your skill with the basics.
Reward: Apprentice Bludgeoner.
*Apprentice Bludgeoner: Trained in the use of maces and clubs you are still only an apprentice but have some skill and experience with these weapons. Your damage dealt with clubs and maces is increased by two stages.
You have completed a hidden objective and earned a title. Objective: learn more advanced ways of attacking a defending with one-handed and two-handed spears and increase your skill with the basics.
Reward: Apprentice Spearman.
*Apprentice Spearman: Trained in the use of spears you are still only an apprentice but have some skill and experience with these weapons. Your damage dealt with spears and polearms is increased by two stages.
You have completed a hidden objective and earned a title. Objective: Deflect all ranged projectiles in a battle with a weapon in your hand.
Reward: Apprentice Deflector.
*Apprentice Deflector: Instead of using a shield you have learned to use your weapon to anticipate, block and redirect projectiles. You can instinctively tell the angle at which objects are coming from and where your parry will redirect them towards sending them that way with half the original force they hit with while expending only a minor amount of effort.
“Did you advance your weapon titles?” Rashen asked.
“Yes,” I grunted still short of breath.
“Good,” Rashen said. “Chieftain Kas’tu told me to tell you that our dungeon will be available for you to run tomorrow.”
“Good,” I said rolling my shoulders as I pulled off my weighted training armor. “I’ll need to move on afterward to continue my quest.”
“You are a good student, Mordred,” Rashen said. “Don’t forget to practice your forms with your weapons. You will need to return here or find another master to advance your titles further.”
Returning to my quarters I sensed two people inside.
“What do you got Voidra,” I asked. I’d been more wary after the prairie and was becoming acclimated to my increased perception and was starting to really take in the sights, sounds, and smells around me.
I sense fear and desire, and Voidra answered me. There are two sources only that I can detect.
I don’t see any signs of an attack in the future, Karnen said as he monitored my Foresight.
“Bestial Senses,” I said activating my perception ability and then stepping into my quarters. I relaxed when I saw it was just Morsi and Mirsha again in their erotic silk robes.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked.
“We have come to offer ourselves to you before you go into battle my lord,” Mirsha said as they bowed their heads to me.
“I believe I said no to the harem,” I said looking the two over. They were both young and attractive and with bestial senses active I had to admit I found their very scent alluring. I turned off the ability and went back to my regular enhanced perception.
“Our apologies Warlord but you are a champion of Kelesa, to let you risk death without passing on your gifts would be a great sin,” Morsi said.
I had to remember that these people were different from those back on my world. For them, sex wasn’t about pleasure or emotional comfort it was a way to secure the future of their clan by breeding powerful warriors.
“I’m not going to die,” I said.
“But…” Morsi protested.
“To imply that I will fail in my task is both an insult to me and to the goddess,” I said my voice rising slightly but I didn’t shout. “You may not understand my reasoning but do not question it again. You are dismissed.”
The two sisters hurried out of my quarters. Sighing, I sat down cross-legged and began my meditation. I wrestled with the ball of rage at my center as I struggled for control and to make it subservient to me.
----
Everyone was starving. They had been without food for three days and Arthur could tell many were considering desertion. It was all and well to fight for the glory of Camelot on a full stomach, but their bellies constantly growled and the marching without food was putting a drain on everyone’s health. Arthur looked at the haggard faces of his men and decided.
“We’ll raid the next town we come to,” he said. “We need food, and we can’t risk them burning their supplies before we get access to it.”
“I’ll send our scouts ahead to prepare the way for us,” Kay said nodding.
Lancelot put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, it may be hard, but your first duty is to your people.”
--
They crawled across the grass under the cover of night. Arthur lay on his belly inching across the wet grass and mud toward the town walls. Scouts with stealth abilities ranged ahead, some scaling the walls others picking off the guards on the walls with arrows. Only fifty yards from the gate now they waited.
Slowly the town gates crept open. Getting to his feet Arthur led a silent charge a few guards were gathered around the gate exchanging fire with the scouts in the gatehouse when Arthur entered the fray. Excalibur flashed out bisecting one then impaling the next through the chest. A distant bell began to ring but Arthur was already running towards the granaries while the army spread out to subdue the town and prevent sabotage.
His feet pounding on the cobblestones Arthur was moving as fast as a galloping horse. He saw guards moving towards the granaries and put on a fresh burst of speed. Kicking off the wall of a house Arthur heard it give way behind him, but he was airborne. Landing among the guards he spun Excalibur cutting them down like wheat.
Smashing his shoulder into the granaries’ door Arthur saw a man pouring oil. Grabbing him by the back of his neck he tossed him outside hearing his bones crack. More guards ran toward the granaries but when they saw Arthur in his armor the blue glowing edge of Excalibur they stopped and turned. Fleeing back into the town those town militia were dealt with by Camelot soldiers. Arthur saw smoke rising in spots and cursed but he remained where he was.
Securing the army’s food was the most important thing he could do right now.
Soon a detachment arrived and took over for Arthur loading the stocks of grain and preserves onto wagons. Arthur went to investigate what building had been sabotaged by the town residence. He followed the smoke to a small neighborhood seeing the roofs of several houses ablaze their insides roaring with flames.
“What happened here?” Arthur asked looking around and seeing a few dead townsfolk on the streets their blood seeping into the cracks of the cobblestones.
“There was a fight sir,” one of his men, a sergeant said. “Some towns folk were putting up resistance. I sent some men to deal with it. As they were subduing them some fires got set.”
“What are the casualties?” Arthur asked.
“None, sir,” the sergeant reported. “We completed our mission without losing a man.”
“I meant for the townsfolk!” Arthur snapped. “Your mission was to subdue the town, not butcher your way through the streets.”
“Sir they attacked us,” the sergeant protested.
“With what? Pitchforks?” Arthur asked. “You’re wearing armor, if you cannot handle a few peasants without being forced to draw your sword then you are not fit for this army. I will speak with your commanding officer and see that your men are disciplined accordingly.”