Alden sat alone outside his tent, idly spooning tepid and flavorless gruel into his mouth. He stared at the floating blue box before him, trying to take his mind off the pain in his arms and legs. They had started the day with sparring, as always, and Alden had been pitted against a number of Baron Kent’s soldiers back to back. He was better than a quarter of them, maybe, the rest easily out-powering, out-speeding, or out-skilling him, leaving his body covered in blue and purple bruises. He did not bother healing them with magic; the pain, he hoped, would act as motivation to not let it happen again.

Yet, staring at the description on the blue box in front of him, he was filled with a gnawing desire to use the power he had been given. All-Maker. His real-life cheat code.

He had resisted for most of the morning. He had hoped his efforts would have borne fruit, allowing him to use the power for something else. Frankly speaking, he wanted to achieve something through his own power, to know he could accomplish something without it.

But time was drawing near when he wouldn’t have the choice, if he wanted to live.

Finishing his stew and a half loaf of hard bread, Alden cleaned his utensils in the basin and, finished, sat once more. It was best to use it now.

Shutting his eyes tight, he felt that near indescribable power within him, that burning tingle of raw energy. So close to the feeling of magic, it flowed like molten liquid through his veins. The mere sensation of the power frightened him.

Channeling the power, he formed a crystalline shard in his hand. It hovered above his palm, glimmering, and as he touched it to his chest it dissipated and merged into him.

Through the power of the All-Maker, the Special Ability Extreme Skill Development has been generated.

Extreme Skill Development

All Skills grow at an extreme rate and have had their limits released.

Notice

Siphoning excess Creation Energy into the System.

Notice

The System has been upgraded. Inventory now available. Shop now available. Quests now available.

Scratching the side of his chin, Alden stared blankly at the screens. What was this about? It was an unexpected turn of events, obviously, but not unwelcome. He was not one to turn down a two for one deal.

He opened the Inventory, displaying a field of empty light-blue boxes and, grabbing a wooden spoon, touched it against the screen. Feeling the weight of the item vanish from his hands, the display changed to show an image of the spoon.

Grinning from ear to ear like a fool, Alden squeezed his hands into fists. This is it. This is what I needed.

Next, he opened the shop. Numerous items were displayed, from books to swords and even to new powers, as if the System had merged with All-Maker in a way. So numerous were the treasures shown that it made his head spin. He nearly feinted when he saw how to purchase them.

Every item could be purchased with money, or otherwise acquired through other means; some required a specific task to be completed, while others were rewarded once certain Stats reached a certain threshold. One magic book in particular required an Intelligence Stat of over 700, or else a payment of 15 million gold.

Alden hardly knew what to make of it all. Nothing for now, he decided. Suddenly appearing with a giant golden blade that could mow down hundreds of enemies would raise suspicions, no matter how useful. But, once he had the time and the freedom, he’d be able to scour his options for something splendid.

“Alden!”

He rose to the sudden call of his name, peering past tents and men to see the waving hand of Frenna. In her other hand were blunted swords, and Alden’s excitement turned bitter in his mouth.

No, he thought. This was good.

Jogging over to her, he grabbed the sword from the air as she tossed it. He settled himself in the makeshift arena, digging his heels into the dirt, and looked around.

Dozens of soldiers and conscripts circled them, watching with half-interested gazes. A few gave knowing grins while others stared begrudgingly, as if the sight about to unfold would be too graphic for their eyes. A reasonable assumption, to be fair.

But as Alden readied himself he could feel a spring of energy unleash within him, ready to burst. It was here, it was finally here!

Frenna started the match with a series of quick thrusts, forcing Alden back as he dodged and parried. Quick as always, she seemed to be pressing him harder and harder of late. Moving around the circle as smoothly as he could, Alden could already feel spikes of pain in his arms and legs.

He parried a blow, his sword vibrating in his hands, and took a careful step back, observing his opponent.

Skill Up

The Swordsmanship Skill has advanced to Rank C.

Reward: 50xp

Dismissing the screen, Alden leapt forward with his own attack, releasing a flurry of cuts and thrusts. Frenna weaved her body through them, her blade flashing through the air. With a clang Alden’s sword was knocked wide, the handle vibrating painfully in his grip, and he sucked in his breath as he watched Frenna’s kick.

It came hard into his chest, sending him crashing backwards into the dirt and rolling him over backwards. The wind knocked from him, he groveled on the ground, fingers clutching aimlessly at the loose dirt. Eventually his breathing returned, each less painful than the last. He stood.

Pain faded as excitement took its place. He had gotten better in an instant, noticeably better. This was the growth he’d wanted. It wasn’t enough without the Stats to match, but even then he could feel the difference, the sharpness of his movements, the fluidity of his attacks.

“Again,” he said. The surrounding soldiers hooted their mocking approval, but he ignored them. It was Frenna he wanted to focus on.

“Sure about that, newbie?” she asked, shifting her weight onto her back foot.

“I’m certain.”

“Then don’t complain if you get hurt.”

She came at him, faster than before, with a series fo downward strokes. Every strike he blocked seemed to pull his sword from his hands little by little, his grip failing.

Frenna brought a whole new meaning to the word ‘monster’. Faster than him, stronger than him, and even with Rank C Swordsmanship he could barely find any openings in her stance. He spotted one as he dodged an uppercut, an armored fist grazing against his chin. Her entire body was left wide open, but as his blade darted out to stab she shifted her weight, as if expecting the attack. Brushing his sword aside, she lashed out with a stab of her own, landing a painful prod against his shoulder.

Be backpedaled, kicking up dirt with his heels. Damnable woman! What the hell had she done to become so strong? He’d need to train another year to match her Stats, if he was lucky.

“That all you got?” he asked mockingly, arms wide. A stupid move. The crowd went into an uproar, jeering and taunting. Frenna did not look so amused.

Darting forward, she pressed into him with a series of blows. Brutal, Frenna gave him no room to breathe, unleashing viscous blows against his arms and legs before finally kicking him to the dirt once more.

Skill Up

The Swordsmanship Skill has advanced to Rank B.

Reward: 50xp

With blurred vision, he dug his fingers into the dirt and sat up. His guts twisted, a surge of hot green vomit erupting from his mouth. Everything hurt, and as his vision cleared he noticed even his palms had bruised to a deep purple. Some of his fingernails had cracked, leaking red droplets and stinging as the wounds met open air.

“That was good stuff,” Frenna said, pulling him to his feet.

“My bruises would disagree,” Alden said. “Are you part horse? You damn well kick like one.”

Sharp pain shot through his forearm as she squeezed it, her hand like a steel cuff. His fingers went limp, refusing to obey him.

“Careful with the jokes,” she said.

“Why’s that? Seemed fine taking it from Mikel.”

She squeezed harder, boring a hole into his skull with her stare. “I said, ‘careful’”.

“And what if I don’t care to be ‘careful’?” he asked, flashing a mocking grin.

When he awoke his vision was cut in half, the right side of his face throbbing. Slowly, Alden lifted himself upright, steadying himself as he sat. Outside, he had been dragged only a short distance from the arena. Still surrounded by soldiers, he could see a pair fighting between the gaps of limbs. Frenna and another poor soul, it seemed.

The swelling of his eye began to recede with a dose of healing magic, his sight returning. Beside him was Mikel, hovering over him with a gleeful look.

“I see the mage doesn’t know to keep his mouth shut. Can’t say I blame you, you got it from me, after all,” Mikel said.

“You’re like a shit father,” another soldier said. With long dark hair that fell to his shoulders and short beard, the man had deeply tanned skin and the wrinkles of middle age around his dark eyes. Alden did not recognize the man, who looked halfway between a warrior and a wise man. “Name’s Hamon.”

“Alden,” Alden replied. He stood, glancing toward the arena. The man Frenna fought was not a soldier, as Alden had assumed, but instead a knight. One of the Baron’s men, he gave nearly as good as he got, but even he could not compete with the speed of the witch-knight that was Frenna.

“What gave you a death wish, anyway?” Mikel asked.

“I just don’t like her.”

A half truth. Though she had never failed to impress him, the more Alden dealt with the knight the more she grated on his nerves, but his real anger was towards the Baroness and those who served her loyally.

“Not liking her seems a little small considering the beatdown you just took,” Hamon said.

“That’s true, I suppose,” Alden admitted. His dislike of the woman alone hadn’t been what tipped him over the edge to foolishness. It was his power, too. Or, more accurately, his elation in his growth, and with it a newfound pride. Pride that Frenna had been quick to beat out of him.

“He’s getting cocky, is what he is,” Mikel said. “Gets a little good with a sword and thinks he’s a knight. Should have seen him a while back. Killed four of those traffickers by himself.”

“Really?” Hamon asked.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Alden said.

Thankfully they were interrupted by Peren. In full plate armor, the knight strode between them, glowering. Settled against his shoulder were two blunted spears, a pair of shields held together in his other hand.

“Come,” he said. “If you’ve time to talk, you’ve time to train.”

“All of us, sir?” Hamon asked.

“Just him,” Peren replied, motioning toward Alden.

He followed anxiously, a step behind. Peren, though not as outwardly cruel as Frenna, did not have any love for Alden, a fact Alden knew well.

Another makeshift arena sat empty, a handful of knights surrounding its edges engaged in a quiet discussion. They silenced as Peren and Alden approached, rapt by the duo.

They stood ready with spears and shields, quiet except for the distant clamor of soldiers and the clinking of their equipment. The air was charged with an unusual tension Alden couldn’t place.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

Peren shifted his stance, armored feet digging into the loose soil, his hard eyes focused on Alden. “The Baron’s request. He wants your spearmanship up to par and I’ve taken it upon myself that it gets done.”

“Well, better you than Frenna, I suppose.” Neither was a soft teacher, but Peren had the better eye for teaching.

“We’ll go until I’m satisfied, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Skill Up

Learned Shieldmanship Rank F.

Reward: 50xp

Skill Up

The Shieldmanship Skill has advanced to Rank D.

Reward: 50xp

Skill Up

Learned Spearmanship Rank F.

Reward: 50xp

Skill Up

The Spearmanship Skill has advanced to Rank D.

Reward: 50xp

Skill Up

The Spearmanship Skill has advanced to Rank C.

Reward: 50xp

Skill Up

The Spearmanship Skill has advanced to Rank B.

Reward: 50xp

Skill Up

The Spearmanship Skill has advanced to Rank A.

Reward: 50xp

Through strenuous training your Endurance has grown.

Reward: 1 bonus point to Endurance.

Through strenuous training your Endurance has grown.

Reward: 1 bonus point to Endurance.

For the next two hours Alden was battered, poked, smacked, shoved, prodded, stabbed, and subjected to countless other strikes and blows. Time and again he was brought to his knees, shoved onto his back, tripped, kicked, or more, each time no less painful than the last. Worse, they seemed to become more painful the more they occurred, even as he cast healing magic on his wounds.

It was as if Peren was growing more and more irate as they sparred, frustrated with something unspoken. Was he growing too slowly? Impossible. A mere two hours it may have been, but Alden was confident he was among the best spearmen in their regiment, if not the entire army, barring the knights. Even against Peren, an experienced knight, he had spotted numerous openings and weaknesses. The knight, like the rest, was just too damn fast for it to matter.

The opposite, then? They had worked together for some time now. Had his sudden growth made him suspicious?

“We’re done,” Peren said. Their last bout had ended with Alden face down in the dirt; a regular occurrence of late. He was almost beginning to like the taste of dirt, given how frequently he got a mouthful. Almost.

For all that, Peren was red faced and staring so intently that he seemed ready to burst. Alden had never seen the man so angry. In the back of his mind he heard a nagging voice telling him to flee, but ignored it. Whatever was infuriating Peren wasn’t Alden’s problem, even if he was the cause, and the knight had more self control than that.

“Is there anything else, sir?”

Peren rounded on him, ready to snap. Alden held fast, staring down the knight. He didn’t have it in him to be afraid of the knight any longer.

“I don’t know how you’ve done it, and I don’t care. You’ve lied, most likely, but I don’t have proof, so instead I’ll warn you. Tread carefully.”

“Explain,” Alden said.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘explain’. Here you stand, accusing me of lying, but you don’t give me the courtesy of telling me what I’ve supposedly lied about? How does that make sense?”

Peren approached, stopping an inch from Alden’s face. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I will have none of it. Step too far out of line and they can’t protect you.”

Protect me? Who? Before he could ask Peren had stormed off. The crowd of soldiers and knights had gone with him, or else dispersed once their sparring had finished, content to pretend they had seen nothing. A bare few approached Alden after it was done, laying on praise and asking for his tutelage, to which he tried for a few minutes.

Skill Up

Learned Teaching Rank F

Reward: 50xp

There’s even a Skill like this, he thought. An interesting Skill, and one he would like to explore. But the day’s affairs plagued his mind, so he made a note of the Skill and bid the soldiers farewell, much to their dismay.

What had Peren meant, he wondered? Or who, more importantly? He did not feel particularly “protected” in this world, and had already risked his life more than once. Elmswood, perhaps? The doctor was well known and well regarded. There was no doubt that he held some sort of sway, though in what way and how far reaching Alden couldn’t begin to guess.

Mina was another option, and the more likely. She had more direct sway over the knights, second only to Commander Dhatri and Baroness Sylvana. And there was her plan, of course. He would need to stay alive to fulfill it, and doubtless she had contrived of something to make certain of it. A well placed threat, perhaps? It wasn’t out of the question.

And Peren had said “they”, not he or she. On Earth the word’s usage as a singular pronoun was growing, but was that the case here? It couldn’t be dismissed out of hand. Who would it apply to, if that were the case? He had never paid much attention to the pronouns used in this world.

A group seemed the more obvious choice to him, but that still left the issue of whom. A roster of faces scrolled past in his mind. Shaking his head, he turned his mind elsewhere. Without proof he could only guess.

It was not a knight, at least, of that he was certain.

He had unwittingly made an enemy of Peren, somehow. His exceptional growth was far too obvious despite his intent, but there was nothing to be done there. He would not pretend to be worse than he was, not when opportunity had so readily presented itself to him.

And Frenna… well, the less said of her the better. First with the fights at the waterfall, then stopping him when Berns was hanged, and even today with his comment when his blood ran hot. Even if she did not see Alden as an enemy, there was goodwill between them.

The sound of trumpets broke his thoughts, and as he looked down the hill he saw in the distance an army of men in red uniforms, banners of red and gray and green and blue swaying in the wind. At the center of the army was a group of knights, their plate armor glimmering white in the hot sun. They surrounded a carriage not unlike Baron Kent’s own, a tall red banner flapping back and forth. Alden recognized the sigil on the banner at once; an eagle holding a sword with its claws, the sigil of Viscount Robert.

An ally, though his presence did not soothe Alden. The Viscount was to lead the first assault against the Hilva Kingdom with an army of some ten thousand, more than triple Baron Kent’s numbers. Yet the army that marched with him was small by comparison, though still larger than Baron Kent’s, perhaps five thousand men. Half what he should have. And, as Alden squinted down at them, he began to notice how battered the duke’s army looked. Many were hobbling and shuffling along, others bandaged or missing limbs, and their uniforms were not red, as he imagined, but instead were stained with blood.

He had lost, that much seemed apparent, and had retreated here. And if the Viscount were here then battle would be following behind him soon.