The market was buzzing more than usual. Even the back alleys were devoid of the typical thugs. A part of me was disappointed. I had wanted to give Dustin and his flunkies a little payback. Nothing lethal of course. Rubber bullets packed enough punch as is.

Pushing my way through the crowd was quickly becoming a chore, but the chatter had quickly caught my attention.

“Did you hear? The butcher’s son is mana blessed.”

What?

“Yes! It was hard not to. He woke up the whole block with his screaming.”

Well there goes my big entrance.

[It would seem someone has stolen your spotlight, Master.]

The timing was truly unlucky. Based on the bits and pieces I had overheard, the son of the local butcher, Samuel Cutter, had become mana blessed at the young age of fourteen. It had happened the night before, and the whole district was in an uproar. Many had wanted to catch a glimpse of the boy.

“Look! The City Lord’s carriage!” Someone shouted over the crowd.

People parted to allow an opulently decorated carriage to pass through unmolested. It was painted black with light blue accents. On the door was an image of a crow perched atop a daggers hilt. Anyone living in Foso would recognize it. Every uniformed member of the city guard had the same image painted on the left side of their breastplate. It was the coat of arms for House Norodo.

The door to the carriage slammed open, and a mountain of a man exited the carriage. All the while, a personal servant struggled out behind him.

One look at his build, and I knew for certain. This dude had more muscle in one bicep than was in my whole body. Heck his quads put the horses pulling his carriage to shame. His long blond hair hung loosely over his shoulders, and his blue eyes had mad coldhearted killer vibes.

[Wow! I didn’t know they made them that big.]

You said it. I guess if this world has magic, then having steroids is pretty vanilla.

Taking large strides, the City Lord walked up to the butcher shop, where three people stood right outside the door. Compared to this larger than life figure, they appeared small and you could tell they felt it. The father who was the tallest, only came up to the City Lord’s chin, was fidgeting with eyes down.

As for the boy in question, he seemed wholly unremarkable. He was tall and lanky, with a weird bowl cut that brought back one too many childhood memories that were better left forgotten. Similar to his father he was also shaking. The mother on the other hand was glaring daggers at the City Lord. She was a short and stout woman with long curly brown hair. Despite her size she resembled a momma bear prepared to put her life on the line to protect her own.

The servant cleared his throat. “You stand in the presence of city lord Nicholas Norodo! Second son of Baron Norodo! Granted the title of Dawn Rose by his majesty for forcing the armies of Perdita to retreat in the battle of Fort River Stone!”

The heck kind of nickname is Dawn Rose?

[I believe it was a title.]

So?

[Just pointing out your incorrect choice of words.]

Get off my back. Geez no need to get so anal about it.

[The devil is within the details. The old you would have appreciated me.]

Well I am not him. Sorry to disappoint. Looks like things are heating up.

While I had gotten distracted, the conversation had moved on without me. The mother seemed to be upset about something and her husband was doing his best to comfort her, while casting fleeting glances at Nicholas Norodo.

“It is an honor for your son to be given an invitation to join the Norodo family’s personal army. Between territory disputes between neighboring baronies and border incursions from Perdita, it is the honor for any fledgling mage to fight for his lord!

Wow he sure was long winded. Dude probably loved to hear himself talk.

From what was just said, I could get a gist of the situation. The Norodo’s wanted to recruit as many of the mana blessed that sprang up in their territory as possible. There were plenty of reasons for this. One was to bolster their military might. Another was to keep track of as many mages in their lands as possible. With the weight of the Norodo name in Foso, that “invitation” was more akin to a subtle threat. For a small time butcher, it would be child's play for the city lord to make their lives a living hell.

“I am the fourth daughter of the Herde family,” Momma Bear scoffed. “I’m not ignorant about how important a time this is for my little Sam. I won’t let you turn my boy into an instrument of war!”

Oh? The Herde family? Where have I heard that name?

Just as the pompous servant was about to counter, Nicholas Norodo stepped forward and motioned that he would now speak. The entire crowd went silent. Seeing the head honcho of this city was rare. It was personally my first time seeing him, and it was even rarer to hear him speak first hand.

“I understand,” Nicholas Norodo said. His voice was deep, but silky smooth. The kind you’d want to have narrating a documentary. “However, I can assure you that our family highly values young magical talent. If your son joins up, he will be given the rank of squad captain upon completing his training.”

Samuel’s eyes lit up at the prospect of a glorious military career. He shuffled his feet forward and parted his lips to speak, but his mother stopped him with a glance. Unlike her gullible son whose only exposure to war were fairy tales and song, she clearly could see past the flowery propaganda.

Momma bear crossed her arms and raised her head defiantly to meet her foe’s gaze. “With all due respect my lord, We would prefer if our little Sammy was apprenticed to Doctor Horne. We want him to obtain a healing spell.”

Whispers broke out at the woman’s clear defiance. For the city lord to speak himself and to still deny him was borderline suicidal. The amalgamation of the entangled voices made it difficult for me to catch anything.

[Allow me master]

[“How dare she speak so boldly?”]

[“She is a part of the Herde family. They’re one of the biggest merchant families in the country.”]

[“Man, how did Old Cutter land a woman with that background?”]

[“Now that I think about it, how many of the boys who became mana blessed ever came back?”]

Most of the chatter was pointless gossip, but there were a few nuggets that held some worth. It appeared that presenting myself on a silver platter to the city lord was a pretty stupid idea. I had no intention of becoming cannon fodder.

“That is unfortunate. If you change your mind, all you need is to send word to my manor, and I will grant you an audience,” Nicholas Norodos said, his voice monotone. He then turned around and entered his carriage.

Shocked at his master’s abrupt departure, the servant shot the butcher family one last look of contempt before leaving. I swear, the servant had a worse attitude problem than the actual lord he served, but I’d rather deal with him over his boss. That man radiated danger. I had nothing to base it on, but my sixth sense told me it would be best to stay under his radar. It wasn’t his physical appearance; although it was plenty domineering on its own. Back in my past life as a hacker. I had a handful of run-ins with characters of the underworld, and he reminded me of them. A man who hid his true intentions behind flowery words and cheerful smiles, or in his case a stoic demeanor.

“Let’s go,” I mumbled out loud, attracting a few weird stares from those close to me.

With my plans crumbling so early was a blow. I had been so concerned with my fantasies, that I failed to take into account reality. For that I blame my impoverished living conditions prior to obtaining Armeria. Properly sitting down and making a five year plan was a luxury. For me, surviving five years would be accomplishment enough. No, that line of thinking was the problem. At some point, I had let my despair take control of my life. If I wanted to achieve my goals, I needed actionable steps.

What are my goals?

I guess it was to be rich. Having money was definitely better than being poor. Yet, it was such a hollow goal. On earth, I had studied computer science in the hopes of making a name for myself, but ended up at a black company after graduating from college. From there, I turned to hacking, in order to get revenge at those who exploited me and those like me. A real defender of the people, or so I told myself.

“Ha! Look at him squirm!”

A familiar voice caught my attention. I’d recognize that sadistic and arrogant tone any day. I took care to tiptoe towards the source, and sure enough, around the next corner was Dustin and his gang. This time he was personally mounted on a kid, and shoving their face in the filthy runoff from one of the buildings. All the while, his posse laughed and egged him on.

The kid was covered in bruises and wore a burlap sack instead of actual clothes. Their arms flailed uselessly as the kid tried to find some way to escape. They were being drowned in half an inch of water. Whenever their struggles started to weaken, Dustin would pull their hair back just long enough so they could catch a breath of air. All for the process to repeat itself. The muffled sobs indicating how young they were.

If it had been earlier, I would have burst forth with guns blazing. Now was the time to be careful. Unless I was willing to silence any witnesses, showcasing what I could do had a high chance of backfire on me. Unlike Samuel, I didn’t have a mom connected to a powerful family. A gutter rat on the streets of Foso would be a lot easier to control. I figured that I was destined to be a soldier for hire. That was different from being cannon fodder.

I could sympathize with the victim. Still, I had no obligation to help them. Besides, they were unlikely to kill the kid. I turned around and walked back the way I came.

It’s not like anyone came to my rescue. Just leave them. The risk isn’t worth it.

[Master…]

I closed my eyes as I gave the order.

Armeria, summon a Klearan Mark IV Riot Drone with anti-riot smoke rounds.

My heart pounded in my chest, my hands balled into fists. I opened my eyes to see my drone floating close to the ground and peering up at me. I bent down to pet it on its head (or what I perceived to be its head) and telepathically I gave it instructions.

Staying low to the ground, the drone turned the corner, trying to stay in the shadows. The soft whir of the engine was soon accompanied with the swooshing sounds as bullet sized canisters of tear gas landed amongst Dustin’s group. After the fourth shot, I dismissed the drone, and waited.

Loud curses, coughing, and cries of alarm echoed across the alley.

“What is this?”

“It burns! Run!”

Footsteps smacked against the cobblestone, and when I peaked, all I saw was the unconscious body of Dustin’s victim. I really hoped they were only unconscious.

I covered my nose and squinted before running and picking up the body. It wasn’t long before my eyes started to water and my lungs demanded fresh air. Coughing, I stumbled towards the abandoned warehouse. The extra weight made my legs buckle and arms burn. Even considering how malnourished and small the kid was, it was a struggle.

[What changed your mind?]

I let out a huff of annoyance.

I was never going to leave them.

And I prayed that my words were the truth, because I sure as hell didn’t know.

***

The runt stank to high heaven. I had made it back to the warehouse, panting and sweating. One look at the stairs convinced me I needed to start exercising, but in the meantime I cleaned a space on the first floor for my guest. Cleaning broken glass and dust was actually pretty hard without a broom. I’d have to remember to swipe one later.

“They’ve been out for quite a bit,” I mumbled. “Armeria, are you able to scan them for injuries?”

With a snapping sound, Armeria resummoned her body. She zipped a few times around the kid before returning to my side. “I am unable to complete such a task. There is a medical pod that was meant to repair you, should you become heavily injured. However, you lack the mana to summon something with that much mass, let alone power it.”

“Look at them,” I pointed. “They are covered in wounds. I’d be surprised if they don’t have broken bones or internal bleeding.”

Armeria’s shoulders slumped. “It’s too bad. I will never understand you human’s for hurting those you should protect.”

“Hey, that only applies to certain types of scumbag. Please avoid lumping me in with them. Besides what do you know? You also shot me soon after you summoned yourself.”

“That was different and you know it,” Armeria huffed. The heat in her voice told me I may have stepped on a landmine. She flew towards me and poked my chest with each word. “My sole purpose is to protect you. You are my master, and every piece of weaponry is my child. Do not question my resolve.”

I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I was being insensitive.”

“So long as you know!” Armeria twirled around and went back to flying over the kid.

She may cover it up, but she is a real mother hen when it matters.

I smiled as she fussed over every little cut and bruise.

That was when the kid’s eyes snapped open. Upon seeing a floating mini person. They properly responded by screaming before aggravating their wounds enough to make them faint.

“Whoops,” Armeria blushed.

I smacked my forehead and let out a groan. At least they fainted. Perhaps keeping Armeria a secret was going to be a bigger challenge than I had anticipated.

“Do you really not have any sci-fi nano healing serums? Not even bandages or antiseptic cream?”

“For the millionth time, no. It’s not my fault you forgot to stock up before going on your mission to earth.” Armeria complained. “The pod took care of most of your medical needs. You mostly kept that stuff on hand to help the locals more often than in case of emergencies.”

“Alright, we can’t do much to heal them, but we have food and water.” I said and summoned a bottle of water and a high calorie bar.

As far as meals go, the bar looked like a brick and felt like a brick as it passed through your body. At least it didn’t taste like a brick. If I had to describe it, it tasted quite a bit like chalk with a coconut aftertaste. Water was a must if you wanted to eat this stuff. In fact, I summoned another bottle of water to have on hand. Just in case the kid needed another.

Wait!

I stared at the original packaging and wanted to kick myself. Was I really about to hand this stuff to a native? Heck, there were scribbles that I assumed to be some other worldly language all over. The bar was called a Blavak Emergency Ration.

I grabbed an empty wine bottle and poured some water inside, and swirled it, trying to clean it. In the end I lacked soap so I could only do so much. Regardless I had to be happy with the result, because it was the best I could do.

For the bar, I was unable to find anything sanitary to use as a plate. So I carefully balanced it on the lip of the bottle. It was pathetic that the only thing I owned besides the clothes on my back were the blankets I hid.

I sat down next to the kid and brought my knees to my chest. “Should we wake them up?”

Armeria shrugged. “Up to you. Personally, I’d let them sleep. Rest will help.”

“Makes sense, could you show me the inventory list, again?”

“Sure,” Armeria said and waved her hand.

A blue screen popped up in front of me. On it was a list containing every item in my soul linked armory. The list had been categorized based on mass. Items in green were what I had the current ability to summon. Those that required more mana than my soul could handle summoning were in red. There was a weird middle ground of purple. The items that could be summoned, but I would be unable to power without overburdening myself.

The cool part was when a line item was tapped on. A three-dimensional image would appear, along with a thorough description on what the weapon did and how to operate it.

“Maybe I could sell some of this to buy medicine.” I mumbled to myself.

“This again!” Armeria rolled her eyes. “You would pimp out my children for chump change?”

“That comparison is over dramatic and you know it. Also, stop referring to inanimate objects as your babies. It’s weirding me out.”

It was a dumb idea. Yet, if this country had commonalities with countries from earth, it probably spent a healthy chunk of its GDP on arming its military. Here I had a trove of weapons that would make a technologically stunted nation salivate, with no way to sell it.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop worrying about things you can’t control?” Armeria zipped up to my face and gave me a good flick on the nose.

She could hit surprisingly hard.

“There is everything from concealable handguns to intergalactic warships on this list. There has to be something inconspicuous that I could sell.” I refused to give up and kept scrolling.

Then it hit me. The number of weapons in green I could summon was pretty sizable. Like inventory spaces in games, similar items were listed as one item with a number on the far right hand side indicating quantity. However, that only applied to guns of the same make and model. If my time watching Hollywood films and perusing the dark web taught me anything, there were many flavors of guns that did the same thing. For example, the AR-15 is one of the most popular semi-automatic rifles in the gun loving country of the United States of America. For one model of gun there were quite a few makes. Now take that concept, and balloon it to an interdimensional scale. Long story short, I could scroll for hours and not scroll through all the guns I could summon.

This had to apply to other items as well. I had yet to see a listing for bullets and magazines. If that was the case, what else was I not seeing?

“Armeria, generate a secondary list containing only cold weapons.”

Her eyes went wide and she snapped her fingers. “Roger.”

A second blue screen popped up next to the one I already had. On it was the answer I was looking for, and so much more. It contained shurikens, spears, shields, and swords, just to name a few. There was one sword listed as Trollbane. When I clicked on it a massive ten foot tall meat cleaver materialized in front of me. Its blade was a bright crimson, and small embers flared from the edge. How the heck was anyone supposed to use that? Shaking my head, I dismissed it and pulled up a normal looking dagger called Standard Issue Ferusian Side Dagger (Military Grade). It was crafted from something called ferusian steel for the blade, and desert oak for the handle. If I wanted to pawn something off, it had better match the aesthetics of this world.

With a quick command to Armeria, and the dagger was in my hands. Despite the blade being close to a foot in length, the weapon was surprisingly light. The wood shifted ever so slightly to fit more ergonomically in my hand, as the moisture from my palm was absorbed. This made the weapon feel like an extension of my body.

The best part was that there were little over nine hundred of them in my soul linked armory. I threw my head back and laughed. For over two weeks it never occurred to me why I had failed to see anything resembling a combat knife. I guess when you see alien technology, all thoughts about wanting a glorified kitchen knife go out the window. Armeria was an AI, or at least I thought of her as a highly developed AI. She had categorized items that she had deemed useful to keep me safe. That meant neutralizing targets from a distance. It probably never occurred to her that I would need to use a blade.

The body next to me stirred. Apparently I was a tad too loud for my guest. In a panic, I motioned for Armeria to make herself scarce.

She disappeared from sight just in time. The kid’s eyes opened, they were a brilliant emerald green and filled with confusion. That confusion turned to cold mistrust, as they noticed me. With a dagger in my hand. Pointy end facing towards them.

Whoops.