Origin (2)

Alexander Jern was a powerful man. That was an unquestionable truth.

From the day he was born until before the System descended on Earth, the number of times he'd failed at all could be counted in one hand. Born in an influential and wealthy family, he'd had the right to pursue his interests freely from a young age. It was at the age of seven that he picked up a sword for the first time; it was also at that moment that he decided he would devote his entire life to it. He trained until exhaustion every day, for decades. His wit developed alongside his swordsmanship, making the man extremely popular in many different social circles. His eccentric pursuit of an ancient martial art was also romantically interesting enough to women and men alike.

Alexander Jern had lived a good life. One with very few roadblocks and little trouble, completely smooth-sailing. Even after the System's descent, that did not change. His effort over decades was rewarded with one of the most powerful Personal Attributes of humanity, and for a good while, he was also the species' strongest warrior. From the start of the Tutorial until its end, the only time he'd been seriously injured was in the fight against the Golem Sword King, Deknir Saxum. It was the only close encounter with death in his entire life.

That was why he couldn't understand. No, it would be more accurate to say that he refused to believe it.

He refused to believe that he was as powerless as he currently felt.

Alexander opened his eyes. Bloody mist assaulted his vision, the screams of the dying turning into a harrowing sound that dug into his ears. The earth he stood on was scorched and cracked, as dry as it was lifeless. Broken buildings surrounded him, carrying faint traces of the stronghold they used to be part of, now deprived of all of their previous majesty and imposing fierceness. Walls made of otherworldly stone lay destroyed on the ground in great chunks, covering part of his line of sight. The skies were red, as if they were on fire.

Yet, Alexander stared only at a single thing. It was the battlefield two kilometers in front of him, at the very heart of the destroyed stronghold. Drakkhan filled his sight, fighting against a multitude of different species and monsters belonging to the Kingdom of Luweth. With impeccable coordination, the lizardmen systematically cornered and slaughtered the desperate enemies, but their casualties had also been incredibly high.

The Sword Saint gripped the hilt of his sword even harder. This was what he had been reduced to. A mere spectator of the main battlefield, unable to even approach it without dying. His duty was to help the Drakkhan in case something went wrong, not lead the battle as he was used to. It was almost unthinkable.

"Are you alright?"

A worried voice reached him. He blinked a turned his head to the side, looking at the blonde, blue-eyed woman who had spoken to him.

"I'm fine, Olivia. Don't worry."

A smile that did not quite reach his eyes made its way onto his face. The woman nodded with a worried expression and turned her gaze to the battlefield ahead. She spoke.

"I feel so useless."

Alexander closed his eyes momentarily.

"Me too."

He understood her feelings well. It wasn't the desire to help the Drakkhan or leap into the fray mindlessly. It was simply that they were now forced to acknowledge their own weakness. Accepting one's powerlessness was a difficult task, especially for those who were used to being the strongest. He understood that he was but a frog in a well back in the Tutorial, but he never expected the difference between him and the other warriors in the Convergence to be so large.

Opening his eyes once more, Alexander looked around. Humans surrounded him, both men and women of different ages and figures. The one thing they had in common was that they all bore fearful expressions. The inability to dispel his kind's fears and lead them to victory was the one thing eating away at Alexander the most. A few Drakkhan were spread out among them, in much lesser number. They fidgeted in place, clearly anxious to go help their comrades on the battlefield.

"Do you think Liam could fight in there already?"

Olivia spoke to him. The man thought silently for a few seconds, contemplating her question.

"I don't know, but probably not. He's strong, however…"

With a defeated sigh, Alexander answered her question. Liam's attribute wasn't particularly geared towards battle from what he had said about it. The enemy soldiers were much more powerful than anything in the Tutorial, meaning that Liam would likely have little room to grow, only being able to tackle them one at a time. This was without mentioning the difference in experience and Skills. In fact, Alexander thought it would be a wonder if the young man hadn't already been killed by either the Empire or the Kingdom's soldiers.

"I disagree."

A new voice came from behind Alexander and Olivia. Both of them turned around, meeting the gaze of a red-haired youth, who continued to speak.

"I think Liam is much more powerful than we expect right now. Don't you remember Kallipolis?"

Mikhail walked up to them, standing in the space between the two. He stared at the battlefield in front of them, but his eyes were unfocused. He seemed to be reminiscing. Alexander shook his head slowly.

"Back in Kallipolis, every robot was much weaker than any of us. This time around, not only are the enemy soldiers in greater number, but they're also individually even stronger than Liam. There's no way for him to acquire XP and raise his stats."

Mikhail frowned, seemingly acknowledging that it was true. Alexander believed what he had said, which is why his anxiety only grew. Without Liam's growth, humanity would be hard-pressed to escape their current situation. Olivia looked at the ground dispiritedly, while asking the two others a question.

"Do you guys think that any of the new people can become comparable to him or even to us?"

Her voice was low, carrying a tinge of hopelessness. Alexander naturally knew why. The more intimate the three of them grew with their Personal Attributes, the more they understood how different they were from the rest of the humans they'd met. It was to the point that they couldn't even foster the hope of having another leader of humanity appear. Both men remained silent before Mikhail spoke.

"It's hard to say, but Nikolaos and a few others should reach us in time."

Alexander shook his head, opening his mouth.

"I doubt it. We're currently ahead of them by quite a bit and even though their Personal Attributes are passable, they aren't growing fast enough. Neither are we, for that matter."

"Nikolaos' Attribute is more than 'passable.' Right now he can only use the first three Labours, but his proficiency will grow in time. Even then, he's already only a bit weaker than us."

The Sword Saint blinked in surprise.

"Three? I thought he was only at the second Labour."

"He unlocked the third a few days ago. I'm telling you, he can do it."

"There are still nine more to go."

Mikhail shrugged.

"By the time he gets to the sixth Labour, he'll already be incomparable to before. What about you? How's your own advancement going?"

Alexander frowned.

"I'm still ways off from One With The Sword, but it won't be long now. Once I achieve it, Swordheart will no longer be a problem."

"Oh, that's great! What about you, Olivia?"

Both men turned to her, who stared listlessly at space, clearly in deep thought. Without moving her gaze, she replied.

"My training hasn't been going as smoothly. I'm having trouble using the Mist. At least my ice is getting colder. You?"

"Same here. Virtually no progress in using the Ash, but the fire keeps getting hotter. Fucking Norse Attributes. When do you think I'll get Surtr's sword?"

"Around the same time I get Ymir."

Both of them sighed simultaneously. A slight grin made its way to Alexander's face. Even though they complained, both of them had been developing steadily for the past six months. Muspelheim and Niflheim were simple Personal Attributes in nature but incredibly complex to use effectively, just like his own Sword Saint Attribute. It was a wonder that both of them had gotten this far already. Rubbing his chin, the old man deliberated on Mikhail's previous words. Nikolaos was indeed outstanding, but not quite on their level yet. It meant that the three of them could only rely on one another in the near future.

It was then.

As Alexander mused, an explosion was heard. The shockwave hit them an instant afterwards, knocking down many of the humans around them and making the three of them immediately lower their center of gravity in order to steady themselves. They turned to the battlefield ahead of them. A great mushroom cloud spread out from its center, hiding most of the battlefield from view. Mikhail cursed.

"Fuck! They still had some bombs left!"

Before anyone could say anything else, the roars of the nearby Drakkhan reached their ears.

"Attention! We've been hit by a surprise attack! Advance and rescue as many of our companions as possible and retreat! Charge!"

Immediately after that, not waiting for the humans to reply, the Drakkhan shot forward into the battlefield, moving so quickly that Alexander was only just barely able to follow them with his senses. Decisively, he unsheathed his sword.

"Let's go."

The new, recent scars on his body throbbed with phantom pain. It was time to throw themselves against enemies they couldn't win against once more.

Alexander forced himself to breathe deeply.