Sparks of purple lightning flashed across his blade in the most badass way imaginable. Washington had nearly lost an eye fighting the lions but came out of it with a power-up. While his master’s black flames were emo as hell, nothing beats purple lightning. The room grew quiet until only the sounds of his crackling blade could be heard. His armor wiggled around his skin as more of his power flowed through the receptive wood.

The Baron’s face had morphed from placid to red until it finally ended in a deep purple. The aura rolling around the Baron felt like grinding rocks, but Washington wasn’t scared. He’d leveled up, and this was his game.

His mentor had already fallen and would wake up weakened, then it would be a training montage until the big bad finally showed up and killed his mentor. Then Washington would show off his MC powers, and Maddie would drop her panties in praise. But, of course, he would have to beat down her father and put an end to the arranged marriage first.

Suddenly he was off his feet, pain lanced up his jaw, and he smacked into an unforgiving wall. The armor that protected his face cracked and itched. Sparks of purple lighting flared through the cracks as the armor regenerated. The armor twisted his body and put him back on his feet. His face hurt like hell, and he could feel his other eye begin to swell. Washington could have sworn he let go of his sword, but the armor hadn’t let it go.

Washington lied when he told his mentor he refused the old woman spirit. Power was power, even if she was old and wrinkly. Without her, his armor wouldn’t be nearly as strong. But, of course, if he told his mentor, Red would put him to work. That wasn’t happening, just like he wasn’t going to stoke the smoker flames. Why would an MC do the work of NPCs?

“Well, you were going to be executed anyway,” Emily said.

He winced at her harsh tone and words.

Tsundere were a bipolar breed of waifu. The more a tsundere liked someone, the harsher their words and tone.

He winked at her. She gritted her teeth and looked away just like a tsundere should.

The Baron approached him with finality in every step. Washington gripped his sword tightly and put his faith in his mentor’s gift. It could cut lions, so what was one old Baron compared to those uncuttable freaks.

Washington thrust his hand forward. “You aren’t the law here Red is. So what gives you the right to do this?”

The Baron stopped and stared in confusion. “Boy, you’re the one who drew your sword. So this is your reward.”

Washington put both hands on his blade and felt his will flow through the weapon. Purple lighting fully encompassed the blade, and he knew this was his chance. If he hit the Baron with this, it would be all over.

The boy who wanted to be an isekai protagonist charged forward, kicking over wooden pots, knocking over lamps, and stomping on food. Finally, he shot forward with all his might, aimed his sword for the Baron’s chest, and slashed.

The slash didn’t land; instead, it felt like he had hit a wall just an inch in front of the Baron’s chest. The man smirked and stepped forward. Washington’s vision flashed, and he felt blow after blow rain down on him. Each hit rattled his teeth, split his skin, and cracked his bones. The armor that deflected lion claws couldn’t take a few punches from an old man.

His head cracked to the side, and he felt a tooth fly free. “You let my son die, you infidel. And if that wasn’t enough, you drew a beast-slaying sword on me. No one can save you from my vengeance now.” The blows continued to rain.

Washington couldn’t see, his swollen, broken jaw prevented him from saying another word, and all he could do was cry. He had just tried to survive. Someone had to die, or none of them would have made it back. So why did he draw his sword? If he hadn’t drawn his sword, none of this would have happened.

The blows continued to land. Washington’s new spirit and armor kept him alive through the beating. Washington wanted to die; the pain was too much, but something wouldn’t let him die. What was the point of coming here if he would just be tortured?

“That’s enough; he’s dead.” Emily’s voice said.

Somehow despite all the damage, Washington could still hear even if he couldn’t breathe. The beating had caused enough swelling to close his throat. But somehow, his heart continued to beat. Was this his MC power? Did the system make him immortal? That was actually kind of awesome maybe with enough time, he could recover.

“I think he looks better this way,” Maddie said.

Washington would have winced if he could still twitch. Just because he failed to free her didn’t mean she had to dis him like that. Washington hoped he would be back to his usual handsome self eventually. If his tongue wasn’t so swollen, he would wiggle it around to see how his mouth was healing.

Someone grabbed his foot and began dragging him. “Now, why did you have to do something like that? Red won’t be happy when he wakes, and we can’t even say it’s the Baron’s fault. You dropped his son. If you had stayed away from him for a few days, you might have gotten away with some maiming. Now, look at you, dead at 16 or 17. You had your whole life ahead of you, and now you're dead. Prophet have mercy on your soul; you could have lived.” Emily said.

If Washington could have apologized, he would have. Instead, he wanted to get up, but he couldn’t find the strength to twitch a finger.

He heard digging. “Prophet, bless this boy’s soul and take him gently into your embrace. Washington wasn’t smart, but he was determined and willful. I only ask that you don’t hold his foolishness against him.” Emily said.

“As if the Prophet would take an infidel soul. Did you know he was an unbeliever?” Maddie said.

Washington guessed everyone had their own way to grieve. If only he could send a message to her so she would know there was still a chance. Unfortunately, even moving his qi felt like an impossibility. For all the strength he should have, he felt weak. Against that old Baron, he couldn’t do a thing. So, where did that leave him now?

Emily continued digging his grave.

“I wonder if this will be the fate of Red if he defies my father,” Maddie said.

He heard a hard slap. “Don’t take my inaction for weakness. Washington did something foolish, and this was a light punishment, all things considered. He died in agony as your brother surely did. Here in the heart of his power, Red could easily destroy your father. The difference between Red and Washington is vaster than the heavens and the earth.” Emily said.

“That may be so, but what would have happened if you interfered with Washington’s punishment. With Red weakened, what’s to stop my father from taking this place for himself.” Washington heard the cocking of a hammer. “Oh, are you going to execute me after seeing what my father did to the last person who disrespected our family? Your status won’t protect you; only power matters out here, and my father is the strongest.” Maddie said.

“When I planted you with light, blessings, and hope you were a pure seed, how have you grown to become a vile vine?” Emily said.

“When confronted with the truth, you hide. You’re no different than that miserable traitor.” Maddie said.

He felt a kick and one of his ribs cracked.

“Oh, you want to talk about truth. Your father no longer has a Barony. When Duke Uriel retakes control of this estate, he won’t reward your father for losing it. Instead, he’ll give it to one of the knights who fought bravely to retake it. So your marriage contract isn’t worth a demon’s fart, and when Red wakes up, there will be no doubt who’s in charge. If you’re lucky, you might marry a landed knight or a wealthy merchant looking to gain the once prestigious Prescott blood. Meanwhile, Red and I will leave and forget all about you as we advance in power while you struggle in the coalescence realm.” Emily said.

“This is all your fault. You and your lacky caused the demon to attack when I tell my father he’ll throw Red into the moat.” Maddie said.

Washington tried to move and stop this fight from happening. But, even thinking was becoming difficult. What little qi remained in his body felt sluggish, and he was slow to recover. The fire qi in the air flowed into his armor and sword but not him. Instead, he could feel something digging into his body. It was slow and painful at first until he began to feel through his armor.

Something was happening to him; he started to feel the armor like it was a part of him. The roots dug in deep, and he could feel them wrap around his bones. He could feel them digging through his body through his muscle and bone even as his helmet closed around his face.

“You know the price for laying a hand on an interrogator and their party. We stopped the demons here, and my lacky built this marvel of battlefield engineering. The second an inquisitor hears about this, they’ll promote Red.” Emily said.

There was silence for a moment, and all he could feel was the wiggling roots of his armor burrowing into his body. Had he really died, and this was what death felt like?

He heard hope in Maddie’s tone when she spoke up. “What about the nobility that allowed him access to their lands? How would the inquisition look upon them?” Maddie asked.

Emily’s tone suddenly became less hostile. “I can’t speak for an inquisitor, but there are more important things to the Prophet than defending a territory. Clearly, the Baron understood that and made an expedition here to aid this outpost. The ability to forge a foothold in a ghostly Earldom is more valuable than a single estate.” Emily said.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Emily had gone to the mat for Red but hadn’t lifted a finger to save him. Washington wanted to cry for himself, but his face felt so ruined he wasn’t sure if he still had tear ducts. Hundreds of tiny roots poured into his head through the swollen, bloody mess that remained of his face.

Washington couldn’t breathe, cry, or move. He wanted to live, and the armor Red had given him dug into his flesh. Roots ripped through his body only to meet and tie together. The armor covering his body grew into him and ate his body alive. Even without pain, he could feel the sensation of losing himself to the armor. It took and took, but still, he continued to live as it wrapped around his bones and pushed through his guts. Had he died and not noticed.

He hadn’t even had a chance to live. All his life, he wanted to be something like a hero. Here in this world, he thought he would finally get the chance and even get some pussy too. Washington did everything right, but somehow that wasn’t good enough. Even his protagonist power couldn’t save him in the end.

Dirt poured on top of him. The armor moved faster, ripping through his muscles searching for more roots as the dirt fell. He could feel tens of thousands of tiny roots slipping through his veins and sucking up to his blood like bread soaks up soup. In return, sap poured into his body, and his heart continued to pump.

All the while, the armor greedily drank his blood while he felt the roots move his ribs back into place. Sap dripped on him through the helmet, warm and welcoming. A slithering sensation moved in through his skull, and he could feel the roots in his head and the sap pouring over his thoughts.

As the dirt fell, the armor worked its way through his body, and he twitched a finger. As if the twitched awakened some new process, the armor shifted again. He could feel every inch of it as it expanded and shifted, wrapping fully around his body until it formed a cocoon. From there, sensation left him. Washington could no longer feel the outside world as more sap fell on him. He felt the sap spread fully across his body until he was fully submerged in the stuff. Then he felt it harden as the roots began to move.

Washington soon knew no more; his body was fully submerged in a strange substance secreted by the armor. Most thought him dead, and the Prescott family easily marked him off as another executed peasant. No one knew of the effect his skill had on the armor he wore or what monster would rise from the cocoon buried in qi-rich soil.