The Path to Knight Unfolds! (Double-Length Chapter)

When Achilles next awoke, he was extraordinarily groggy. His whole body ached. He was disoriented and could not understand why he seems to lie in a very comfortable bed and staring up at a stone ceiling that was not his own house.

For a couple of minutes, Achilles did not move. His mouth felt dry, and he was exhausted. He tried calling for help, but no words came from his mouth.

However, eventually, his younger sister Diana poked her head into his vision. She seemed surprised. “Big brother, you’re finally awake!”

She gave him an enthusiastic hug, which made cuts all over Achilles’s body hurt. As he groaned in pain, Diana scurried away.

Achilles slowly remembered what happened the night the orcs attacked the village.

Yes, he’d fought them off with the magic sword Virgil. He’d accepted the orc captain’s challenge of a duel, which had resulted in a tie.

Then Achilles fell unconscious as soon as he found his family again.

How much time had passed since then? Where was he?

And where was Virgil?

Achilles began to regain movement throughout his body, and he turned his head this way and that to look at his surroundings.

He lay in a little room with a few pieces of simple wood furniture. A glass window was embedded into the stone wall, and sunlight streamed through onto the bedspread.

Achilles knew you couldn’t find glass in windows unless you went to towns or cities. He guessed that his mother and sister and the rest of the villagers had done what they intended, sought refuge in a town.

Achilles breathed a sigh of relief. Everybody was safe.

Soon, Achilles’s mother entered the room. Her eyes welled with tears as she saw her son awake again.

“Good morning,” said Achilles.

“Oh, Achilles…” she whispered.

She walked over, sat on the edge of the bed, and put the back of her hand to his forehead to take his temperature. “You don’t have a fever anymore,” she said. “And your wounds are healing.”

Achilles remembered what Virgil had said about healing, that it could happen once a day. “Mom,” he said, “I need you to bring me Dad’s sword.”

She stared at him for a long time. “I can’t believe that, despite everything I told you over the years, you deliberately disobeyed me and stole that thing. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I think so,” said Achilles. “I know… that it’s called Virgil, and that it’s a magic sword. You and Dad moved down here to keep it away from other people.”

“Yes,” she muttered. “We did such a good job at that!” Her voice was sarcastic. “Now look, our own son was cursed like we hoped wouldn’t happen to anyone.”

Achilles looked away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I only wanted to protect you and Diana. I… think if I hadn’t, the orcs would’ve found everyone else.”

His mother’s voice was likewise quiet. “I know,” she said. “A few people… went back to the village. It seems that the men tried to lure the orcs away from us, but they were too slow. Too worn down from farming.”

She gave a long, shuddering sigh. “At least it seems as though… their deaths were quick. The orcs killed them swiftly. Well… even if you deliberately disobeyed me, I also understand that you couldn’t have done anything differently. You really are your father’s son.”

This was the first time his mother had ever said something like that.

This was the first time she’d ever compared him to his father.

Achilles’s heart suddenly glowed, though it was bittersweet in light of the sacrifices of the men of the village.

“Mom,” he said at last, “I need you to bring me the sword. It told me about being corrupted, and I guess that’s what you and Dad were trying to stop happening to other people, but it also said that if I’m careful with its power, I won’t be corrupted. It can heal me.”

His mother hesitated for a moment, and didn’t seem like she was going to listen.

Then a strange, older male voice came from the doorway.

“If you’re referring to class–based healing, you don’t need the eldritch blade for that.”

Achilles turned in surprise to see a figure standing in the doorway of his room, Diana shyly standing behind him.

This figure was tall, with long silver hair and a beard, maybe close to fifty years old. He wore fairly simple clothes, though they looked like they were made of expensive material. He wore a sword strapped to each hip and to each shoulder.

Achilles squinted, feeling like something was wrong, and then suddenly realized that he couldn’t see any of this man’s system attributes as he had for the orcs.

Achilles’s mother turned and stood to address the new figure. “Class-based healing?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” said the man, “don’t tell me you didn’t notice. The boy has clearly obtained the basic physical enhancement given to those who gain their first level of the Warrior class.”

Achilles stared at this man. “Who are you?” he asked.

“My name is Azarah,” said the man. “I was your father’s dearest friend. He and I belonged to the Silver Circle, and I’m one of the few people in the world who know the power of that sword you awakened. However, you don’t need the blade to perform daily healing. Simply close your eyes for six seconds and focus on your wounds.”

Though he couldn’t see this man’s system attributes, Achilles was still aware of his own. He seemed to have gained 1 HP since he’d passed out, being now at 2. He closed his eyes and did as Azarah had instructed him.

Achilles was overcome with the bizarre sensation of his whole body itching and burning, but then he felt his scabbed-over wounds writhing and knitting themselves back together. Even his fatigue drained away somewhat.

In moments, Achilles felt perfectly healthy, and had returned to his maximum 5 HP!

He threw off the quilt covering him and stepped onto the ground, feeling the cool air of the room on his skin. He was wearing a thin cotton shirt and trousers, but no shoes, and the floor was cold beneath his feet.

“That’s amazing!” he said. “Mom, how long was I asleep?”

“Six days,” she whispered. She was staring fixedly at him.

Azarah laughed. “People have fallen unconscious for a day or two simply from the shock of awakening their first class. And your son fought orcs on top of that!”

Achilles’s head spun. “You know about the orcs?” he asked.

Azarah nodded. “Some soldiers investigated the remains of the village a few days ago. They found the corpses of the orcs you killed. None of them know the truth of the eldritch blade, of course.”

The truth.

“Well,” asked Achilles, “what is the truth?”

Azarah and Achilles’s mother glanced at each other, not sure what to tell him.

Finally, Azarah spoke.

“The Silver Circle was an elite group of six Imperial Knights. Your father and I were two of the most esteemed members. Years ago, we tracked down and stopped a cosmic cult. Before their high priest could bond with the god they had pulled from another dimension, we killed them.”

He continued. “We studied the blade for a short period and ignored the things it tried to tell us. It was difficult even for us to resist the pull of its power. We gave the blade to your father, and he sacrificed his career to take you and your mother to the south, furthest away from demonic lands as possible.”

Azarah gestured into the other room, where the sword probably lay. “While the blade was unbonded, it called out to all creatures, and it seemed likely that monsters could sense it far more easily than humans.”

Achilles’s mother looked away. “It was worse than that,” she said. “You believed the Demon Lords themselves sought to obtain it.”

Azarah nodded. “We put a seal on the blade, though I’m fascinated to see that the seal is broken. It prevented the sword from calling out to anybody who wasn’t actively touching it.”

“Seal?” asked Achilles. “You mean the chain. Yes, Virgil shattered that on his own.”

Azarah seemed fascinated. “Astounding,” he said. “Nonetheless, now that you are bonded to it, it doesn’t seem to send out any signals. It should actually be safer now than it has been in all the time since we took it.”

“Well,” said Achilles’s mother, “what exactly is he supposed to do now? Surely he doesn’t have to go live as a hermit in the mountains away from the rest of the world until he dies, or something like that!”

Her voice sounded hard. She clearly didn’t enjoy the sound of losing her husband and also her oldest son.

“No!” said Achilles. He felt angry. “Mom, I love you, and I love Diana, but I’m not going to just be a farmer or just sit on a mountain. I’m strong now! I can be like Dad and become an Imperial Knight. Please, Sir Azarah, is there some way I can do that?”

The knight stroked his long silver beard thoughtfully. “Actually,” he said, “sitting by yourself on a mountain would be the worst possible thing. The power of the eldritch blade will slowly grow and eventually consume you. The only way to avoid this is by becoming so strong that you can withstand its power.”

The man smiled. “You wish to become an Imperial Knight, son of my dearest friend?”

Achilles nodded, holding his breath.

“Then, if Fate wills it, you may one day achieve that goal. It won’t be easy. It’ll be incredibly dangerous, and you certainly lack the discipline and training… but I know there is a path ahead for you, and will help you set your foot upon it.”

“Hold on,” said Achilles. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Well,” said Azarah, “you’re far too old to join the Imperial Academy. The only way for you to graduate and join the lowest ranks of the Knights would be to qualify in the Citizen Knight Tournament.”

The man smiled whimsically. “All citizens of the Empire may enter, and those who reach the final brackets of the tournament are treated as though they graduated from the academy.”

Achilles’s heart skipped a beat. “You never told me about that, Mom! All this time, there was another opportunity for me to join them!”

Sir Azarah laughed. “Without even a class, it would’ve been impossible. You’ll need to be at least 2nd Level before you hope to fight more than the weakest contestants in the tournament! And unless you’re 3rd Level, you shouldn’t expect to come anywhere near the final rounds.”

“Besides,” he said, “you need far more training than you have. Don’t worry though. For the son of the man who might as well have been my brother, I’ll pay for you to have the best tutors in the land, and you and your family will live in a beautiful house.”

“Now wait just a minute!” said Achilles’s mother, her cheeks coloring. “I know you want to help us, Azarah, but I won’t accept charity from anyone. I’ll work to support Diana and myself. However…”

She glanced at Achilles. “I’m not going to stop you from leaving, my son. Yes, you’ll need to work very hard, as I’ve taught you, if you want to succeed. But the things that you dream of are no longer completely outside your grasp. I guess I don’t know the will of Fate as well as I thought I did.”

Achilles was stunned. “Mom?” he asked. “You really mean that?”

She stood beside him. The last Achilles remembered, she’d been taller than him.

Now, with the growth his class had given him, he stood just barely taller than her.

Yet she looked at him with motherly pride, as though he were just a little toddler showing her something he’d made.

“My son, I’ve wished all your life that you could’ve had the opportunity to be like your father. He was the greatest man I’ve ever known. I remember the day I first saw him, the day I fell in love with him.”

She continued. “When he died, I thought I’d never be happy again. But then I saw how you and Diana are growing up, how you’re becoming brave and wonderful people. I told you in the past that whatever you are, you should be the best version of it. I told you before you should be the best farmer you could be, because that was your life.”

Her voice softened even further. “But if you are to become an adventurer, and eventually an Imperial Knight, then be the best adventurer you can be. The best Imperial Knight. Nothing would make your father prouder than if you surpassed him. If he is watching from the heavens, Achilles, please, make him proud.”

Achilles’s eyes filled with tears. He’d never heard his mother speak like this. He suddenly embraced her, blinking away his tears before he started crying.

Then he pulled away. “Yes,” he said. “I can’t take anything for free, Sir Azarah. But I’ll work hard for you to pay for the tutor, if you’ll allow me. I can take care of your horses, maybe.”

The knight smiled thinly. It appeared he’d expected this reaction.

“Well, if you won’t permit me to help you in ‘that’ way, then allow me to write you a letter of recommendation to the Adventurers’ Guild on the frontier. There, you can train and work contracts to earn money while you grow stronger. How does that sound?”

A grin spread across Achilles’s face from ear to ear, and he bowed deeply to the knight. “On my honor, Sir, I will make you proud as well.”

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Achilles

1st Level Human Warrior

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HP 5/5

AC 10

Eyes 983