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Reincarnated Renegade

READ THIS ON ROYAL ROAD This is an outdated first draft and Webnovel makes it difficult to update everything. Here is the updated link: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/37863/reincarnated-renegade = The son of a Duke woke up with amnesia. It's the truth. Was it the whole truth? Not necessarily. The whole truth was that the Duke's son's memories were replaced. By Bellavarn. Bellavarn didn't think he deserved a second life if that was what this was. He died young, sure. But he was the one who ended it in the first place. Did he want this life? It wasn't his, wasn't deserved, and unasked for. Take one of the thousands who beg uncaring gods instead, not him. He wanted oblivion. Examining his new surroundings, the plush pillows, expensive draperies, and the nervous maid, he assumed the worst. Who was he in this world? Time to find out.  So... "Close the doors." "Lord?" "Do it." *This Novel contains dark themes not suitable for all readers. *This is an original novel. Any similarities of existing characters, locations, or otherwise is purely coincidental. (Cover art is my original drawing)

Austin_Scanlon · Fantasía
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71 Chs

Week Two (1)

Day 1

"Kerv, what is that?"

"A stick."

"..."

Kerv rotated his wrist, playing with a stick. Making elaborate movements and gestures. It was a cross between play and exercise. He must truly be losing his mind...

"You have a sword at your waist."

"Yeah, but that cut things."

"..."

Bellavarn didn't know what to say to that.

"Hey, Bell."

"Hm?"

"Is it possible to use clay to make a weapon? I never thought on it before. I've always been used to the idea of metal, but seeing you working with those small things, has made me think."

"Honestly. It has some pretty hard limitations. It doesn't hold up to impacts the same way iron does. Vibrations can cause it to shatter unexpectedly. My design is a rare exception. It won't be perfect, but it is easier for me to create on my own and carve the necessary runes. Once it's been imbued with magic, it will also hold up better."

Kerv swung his stick, holding it by a separate branch. It was awkward and clumsy. Bellavarn set aside the device he was working on to watch. The way Kerv was swinging it was unorthodox.

"Hey, Bell."

Kerv stopped swinging, looking down at his weapon. He had Bellavarn's full attention now.

"If I chose to make a ceramic weapon, could you enchant it to be stronger?"

=

Day 2

Henry reported to Braster.

"Nothing has come up. I've set up all the alarms and precautions. Kerv will be able to handle anything less than an army. Even then, I showed him the escaped routes, and he is confident he can protect Master Bellavarn while I am away on mission."

Braster looked over several papers and maps. A few described warehouse complexes complete with guard rotations. Another one had several annotations with inventory placements and objects of interest. Henry had gathered an abundance of information on his last mission despite failing his initial objective. Now was the time to use it.

"I've heard Duke Astor stumbled upon another gem mine along the Western border. Take the time to reacquire our assets that he has mistakenly poached. His attention will be on the new shiny jewels while keeping an eye on the movements near our land. Take Warehouse 4 and 7 as recompense. I expect it done within a week."

"Yes, Duke. It will be done."

=

Day 3

"Is everything set up? Are they all okay with doing this?"

Oslo smiled warmly.

"Of course, everyone is behind you, Master Bellavarn. The work wasn't difficult, and we made the announcement yesterday morning. There will be a small crowd gathered by the time you arrive."

Bellavarn looked equally nervous and excited.

"I think there is a simple way to make things more efficient as well! Instead of having only one circle producing heat. Why not add a second one. Creating an even distribution of power both above and below will dry out the weeds more effectively. It turns out that there will be minimal effort on our part if things go according to plan."

His desk was a mess as he tried to sort out the things he needed. He was looking for spare spell circles in case some malfunctioned. They took time to make, about ten minutes each, and that is if he made them perfectly without faults. Worst-case scenario, he would have to spend time redrawing them on site, but he would rather be prepared.

"I am a bit worried. I don't know how bad the situation is out there. From what I've gathered, stockpiles have withered and the commoners will barely make it to spring. I can only hope it isn't as bad as I fear."

Last time he went out, he remembered the smokestacks. What should have been a town filled with people seemed empty. The number of smokestacks didn't account for enough individuals and families. It wasn't on account of firewood or coal either; there is plenty. It wasn't that they congregated either. Either there was a large exodus of commoners, or they met with untimely ends due to starvation. Or both.

The malnourished loiters around the smithies reiterated his point. It was often the case with medieval societies that the lowest class of people were the last to receive food. They couldn't afford it when the price skyrocketed, forcing them to scrounge for scraps. For some, food or grain was a currency in-of-itself. Gangs were formed to control food. Bellavarn could spot the beginnings of one outside Vestals.

"You... You don't think the people will have a problem with me, do you? Would it be better if I didn't make a personal appearance? I doubt a starving man will be picky, but the rumors spreading about me have already become objectified fact."

"You said it yourself earlier; this is a chance to overturn their preconceptions. And they would be fools not to accept your goodwill, Master Bellavarn."

Oslo measured Bellavarn.

He rediscovered a way to use stinkweed as emergency rations from a benign literary passage and would be feeding the people for free. If any of them dared so much as grumble, they would meet the sorry end of his fist. And Kerv's. Henry and the others would join in. Jeral. Ester. Kyle. Potter. Denice. Misses Vale. And the Duchess herself might march out of the mansion to give them a few good kicks.

Lannie would probably abstain from hitting them. So would Nem. Or Wendle, who volunteered to help run the charity work since the majority of his duties could be tended to by his apprentice.

The rest of those present included several of the guards and over a dozen staff members who all volunteered. They would keep the operation going for three hours before packing up. Everyone present believed in Bellavarn and was certain his heart would reach the people.

"I have complete faith in you, Master Bellavarn."

Oslo bowed, escorted him to the waiting carriage.

=

Day 4

"Duchess. Baroness Wyre is here to see you."

Parcy informed. The Duchess scowled.

"Duchess, a Lady shouldn't make that face."

The scowl deepened.

"Why not? She was extremely rude after being told she couldn't see Bellavarn. Now, she comes crawling back to ask for forgiveness. I think I will make her wait."

Parcy kept her calm deferential tone.

"I don't believe that is wise, Duchess. Is the Baroness' daughter no longer a suitable candidate for Bellavarn?"

Trisha scoffed.

"Of course. She is a lovely girl. It is her mother I am reluctant to forgive."

"Then, if I may be so bold, Duchess. Give the girl a chance, and don't fault the mother for being overly protective. Do you not want the best for Master Bellavarn as well?"

Trisha pouted, folding her arms.

"I hate it when you do that."

"I know, Duchess."

"I hate that you do it despite knowing I hate it."

"Yes, Duchess."

Trisha threw up her arms.

"Fine. Take me to her. I'll see what she wants."

Day 5

"So, last week, she was all hoity-toity, speaking about how I 'inconvenienced' her. But now, she crawled back and apologized for acting so rudely despite not knowing the circumstances. She declared she had no idea our son was in the middle of a breakthrough."

"A misunderstanding."

Trisha waved a hand nonchalantly.

"A good one. She praised Bellavarn for his 'stout mind' and being a 'leader of the common folk'. She kept going over and over about Bellavarn not only made the inedible edible, but also how he ate it himself as a sign of goodwill to the people."

"Lady Wyre has realized how amazing your son is."

"Our son. He apparently gave a rousing speech and won over the starving people—created order when they all scrambled for food and even made them work for their meal. Having them provide the mana themselves to cook the stinkweed was ingenious. We couldn't have handled the output otherwise."

"Didn't he also make them collect more stinkweed as payment?"

Trisha nodded proudly.

"Our little boy is a leader and an entrepreneur. He made them supply both the ingredients and the energy. All he did was provide them the means. His business sense is blooming! There are even doubts about the rumors due to his noble and selfless actions."

Trisha was full of praise, vibrating with motherly pride. Braster huffed.

"So... Did this cause the Baroness to want to meet Bellavarn?"

Trisha became even more jittery. Waving her arms high.

"That's the thing! It was young April who informed Lady Wyre that she wanted to meet him. Apparently, she was out shopping when Bellavarn gave his speech and witnessed him in his full glory. Lady Wyre described it as if April was overcome with emotion, falling in love at first sight."

"Hmm..."

Braster held chin in thought, looking worried. Trisha patted his arm knowingly.

"I know. It sounds too good to be true, right?"

Braster grumbled.

"It does."

"Then we'll set aside a date tomorrow to meet with her. Perhaps while Bellavarn is out helping with the charity event again."

Braster looked sideways at his loving wife. A mixture of love and suspicion.

"Are you going to interrogate the poor girl?"

Trisha tittered, bubbling with mania.

=

Bellavarn shivered. Looking around, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Shrugging, he went back to browsing.

He was in a magical tool shop. It catered to many, not just nobility, as long as they had the coin. The items ranged from rare enchantments or simple every-day tools. There were several magical pens lined up in a box that evoked unwanted emotions. Moving past it, he saw a display of magical papers. Written on the papers were different spell shapes. The most simple emitted a soft glow. Another was the heat spell. One was the equivalent of a noisemaker. They were all cheap and could be bought for only a few silver coins.

It took getting used to being rich. Coming from someone who was previously homeless for a short time and then always lived day-to-day. Having access to so much caused him discomfort. He didn't like spending it needlessly. Anything he spent money on, he wanted to get something twice as valuable in return. There were no flash sales in this world. Bargaining was more likely. And some would slap you for trying.

Bellavarn glanced over a few enchanted weapons. There was a dagger that emitted frost and a stiletto that emitted heat. Neither would last long as weapons. The imbued mana was limited and couldn't be recharged. Ultimately, these were fancy nick nacks used to trick those who knew nothing about magic. The most useful things in the shop were actually the many compact paper spell scrolls.

They were incredibly cheap compared to other objects and were the foundation for magic. They used minimal materials and were just the basic spell shape. If a commoner was smart, they could save up to buy one of these papers and teach themselves to reproduce the effect. This is what Bellavarn came for. Getting the biggest bang for his buck.

Spells can't be evoked naturally. They need a medium. Paper is the simplest. He used paper to create the heating circles that cooked stinkweed. Drawing them is simple once you know them. Learning them is the difficult part. It still took Bellavarn hours to memorize the relatively simple spell shape for light.

The spell shaping and magical engineering he learned from books were too much theory. He had to scrap nearly all his test spinners due to the spell shapes failing, exploding the ceramics...

He was hoping to study more practical applications.

"I'll take several of each of these papers."

The shopkeep rubbed his hands together. Any coin was good coin. And he was about to come into a bucket load.

"I'll get those ready for you, dear customer. Will there be anything else?"

Bellavarn glanced back at the pens.

"No. I don't need anything else."

This chapter was getting long, so I divided it in two. It was originally 4000+ words. I tried doing the math and I ended up scaring myself.

I am not someone who can dish out monumental chapters like Pirate Aba. The average length of these chapters is about 2000 words. Multiply that by 7 and I am writing 14,000 words per week. I've been writing this story for about a month now. So a chapter a day for a month... is around 60,000 total.

Multiply that by two because I have been doing the same thing for The Light That Darkened. 120,000 words in a month? While doing this part-time as a full-time college student. I am simultaneously proud and scared of myself.

I have finals for the next five days, so you may not get your daily chapter. I already paused in writing The Light That Darkened to focus on writing this novel. I need to work on my projects instead of procrastinating by writing this story... (._.)

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