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I'm in Hyrule? - A Zelda Fanfic.

Our main character is reincarnated into a Breath of the Wild/ Tears of the Kingdom mashup—lots of progressive strengthening of MC, possibly a sprinkle of r18 / romance. I can guarantee the story will get better as my writing skills improve. I am also going back and updating older chapters. I encourage all readers to give the first ten chapters a try!

Mctoasty_Jr · Jeux vidéo
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45 Chs

Do You Even Lift Brah?

"Come on, you lazy shit, my daughter could run faster than you!"

After having been deemed fully recovered, my training under Rhoam begins.

As a warm-up, I am running four laps around the hill, which is pretty easy, but every time I slow down, that demented old sadist hurls massive boulders at me from the top of the hill.

Turns out that under that robe is a built body that would make Arnold Swatshenegger look like a stick.

I duck under another flying stone as I finish my final lap, falling to the ground in exhaustion.

After I recover from the running, I walk back up the hill drenched in sweat.

"Can I have a sword now? Or a cool spear or something? I thought you said you were gonna train me," I ask Rhoam.

The old man merrily replies, "Of course, I will train you! Now that you are warmed up, I will now teach you my most powerful technique: Sweep the Floor and make me lunch jutsu!"

With a sigh, I start cleaning the cabin, watering the garden, chopping firewood, and doing whatever else I am told to do.

For lunch, I prepare a Spicy meat and seafood fry, which I remember being the king's favorite dish in the game. It proves to be much harder than throwing a handful of ingredients into a pot, but eventually, I succeed in cooking the Fry.

When I bring him the dish, Uncle Rhoam is delighted; "I forgot this recipe a while ago, and it's my favorite dish, you, young man, deserve a reward."

After lunch, we head out to the space behind the cabin, where there is a training dummy and a dirt courtyard. Rhoam brings a massive chest out from the cellar under the cabin.

The chest is full of basic iron weapons, but they seem sturdy.

"Here, give this a few swings," The king says, handing me a spear.

"But I've never used a spear before. Maybe I could have a bow?" I reply.

"Your time with the bow has benefited your aim, but you are not meant for the archer's path. Now start swinging."

Once I start practicing with the spear, intense pressure emits from Rhoam's eyes. I feel like everything about me is laid out in front of him, from the beating of my heart to the twitch of my fingers.

"Hmm, try this axe," he says, taking the weapon and handing me a new one.

We continue like this for hours, cycling through swords, shields, glaives, battleaxes, and pretty much any other weapon you can imagine, but they are all rejected by Rhoam, who makes comments like "Too heavy." or "Not a cooperative weapon."

Suddenly, Rhoam's eyes light up, and he hands me a long saber, a type of sword with a slight curve and a hilt that covers the user's hand.

I give it a few swings and instantly recognize the difference between this and the other weapons. It just feels... right.

"There she is. The path of the saber, huh... interesting. But it feels like there is something missing. This could be a stretch, but..." The old man hands me a box, inside of which is a gauntlet and a handheld crossbow.

The gauntlet is heavy with long, sharp fingertips, but it fits me pretty well. The handheld crossbow rests snugly in the gauntlet, and I realize that they are a pair, with the gauntlet featuring notches to hold the barbed arrows of the crossbow.

Uncle Rhoam nods in satisfaction.

"A most unusual combination of weapons that you are identifying with, but they synchronize remarkably. Shall me spar, Arjon?"

Excited to test out my new weapons, I agree.

We take opposite sides of the training ground, and Rhoam unclasps his short cloak, revealing massive arms. He brandishes his walking stick, and motions for me to attack.

I start the fight with a direct bolt from my crossbow, which the old man effortlessly plucks from the air and tosses to the ground.

Realizing that I won't get anywhere with ranged attacks, I start circling my opponent, looking for an opportunity to strike. I make my way behind Rhoam, slashing horizontally with my new saber.

With a simple tap of his walking stick, the king diverts my strike and launches a vicious backhand to my face, sending me spinning in the air before crashing into the ground.

"Come now, Arjon, I know a sage when I see one, do not be afraid to utilize the powers of the Triforce against me," Rhoam calls out.

So he knows I can use mana, or what he is calling 'The Triforce,' maybe he can teach me more abilities?

I drop my crossbow to the ground and use the open gauntlet-clad hand to fire of a Lightning Grasp at the old warrior, causing him to take the first steps of the fight, sidestepping my blast of lightning.

"THAT'S more like it!" He yells, rushing towards me.

Next, I conjure water, spraying it at the feet of the approaching Rhoam. A pool of mud forms under the sadist king's feet, but he simply bounds over the obstacle, now only five feet away from me.

In a last-ditch attempt to win the spar, I channel my fire mana into my gauntlet, which glows red hot, intending to burn right through that walking stick.

I don't see the kick coming from below, sweeping my legs out from under me. I lost.

Rhoam helps me up and cordially smiles, "Good spar, kid. You earned your dinner, and perhaps tonight, you will humor some old man's stories about the world outside this desert."

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