⸢Iron Sword — E Grade⸥
⸢Property: Standard Iron Ore⸥
⸢Aspect: Basic durability and damage⸥
⸢Attack: +3⸥
The sword felt cheap in his hand. A brittle thing of steel with a dull edge and a rough handle.
It was not a blade he could call a weapon.
It didn't match his power, or his combat prowess, but any sword in the hands of a Swordsman became the greatest weapon of death.
This Iron Sword would be no different.
Regardless of the difference in power, Percival knew how to handle such a low grade weapon.
Every notch, every flaw, every angle of balance. He knew them all.
How to strike with the weapon without his immense sword magic shattering the steel or sending it spiralling from his grasp.
Such was the power of a Swordsman: Instant comprehension of all swords.
Even this E Grade scrap.
The leader of the Bandits turned to the one who had lost his sword. "I always tell you. If you're better with the axe, then use it! Stop messing around with swords."
The young Bandit made a flimsy face of guilt. "Aye. I'm sorry."
"Eh, whatever. It's not like he's a Swordsman or anything." His scarred face stretched to a smile. "We're going to have fun carving you up!"
Percival lifted the sword, and it rose in a whirl, the hilt spinning on his palm, cleaving unseen foes before settling in his iron grip.
The sword was leveled, the tip of its blade pointed at them.
A warning? A dare?
The Bandits only laughed at it. "What do you think this is?!"
"You think that scares us?! Hah! We've killed many daredevils like you!"
They brandished their weapons. "Get 'em boys!"
They attacked as a group, but one of them was faster, leading the team with his excited lunge.
He was also faster to die.
The blade tip sank through his eye and out the back of his skull.
It had been so fast, so sudden, that the others froze at the spot.
Percival, it looked, had not even moved.
So how did that blade reach him? Did it grow longer? Had the Bandit thrown himself upon it? What really just happened?
Percival pulled the sword free in a clean arc. Blood followed like a comet's tail, and the Bandit slumped to the ground.
Headless. Lifeless.
"You shadow-haired piece of shit!" The second Bandit screamed as he swung.
A wild swing.
Not that he had the chance to be certain.
Before the blade could get close to Percival, he turned his sword in one hand, and stabbed the man beside him.
Then he dragged the sword sideways, tearing a line through his center. The man's stomach opened like torn cloth, and out spilled what little courage he had left.
The third, loud and angry, attacked with an axe.
It was him who had dropped the sword, so he believed killing this wanderer was his responsibility.
But when his axe came down, his responsibility had disappeared.
From the corner of his eye, he saw him appear again. His movement… It was rapid.
He attempted to pivot and swing again, but Percival's sword met axe-handle, shattering it into wooden splinters.
A gasp was the last sound he made as Percival's sword buried itself in his throat.
The fourth tried to be clever, rushing from behind.
But Percival could always sense him. With a pull of his sword out the Bandit's throat, he spun the weapon in an arc, creating a shimmering crescent of silver.
The man was cleaved in half by this magical crescent before his scream reached the air.
Percival stood, tall and untouched, as a body and two halves slumped to the ground in thuds.
It was tireless fighting such people.
For him, a Lvl 150 Swordsman, it was like a human swatting flies.
What remained now was a stronger fly. The Bandit Leader.
His face was free of all laughter from earlier, only horror and disbelief ruled his expression. "What kind of an Awakener are you? You're only Lvl 1 and you've slaughtered my brothers."
Percival stood silent, his hair flowing over his face with the graveyard breeze.
"I'll kill you for what you've done!" the Bandit Leader yelled.
He charged, his sword—a superior quality than the one Percival held—glinted in front of him, promising a better challenge than what the others offered.
Percival didn't mind a good challenge.
Though he doubted it.
He stepped to meet the Bandit, and their blades clashed, the sound of metal vibrating through the dark afternoon.
Their blades struck again, and again, sparks of fury flew into the air.
The Bandit's strikes carried fury, but not precision. Hence, it didn't take long for Percival to overpower him.
Not long at all.
He weaved around the Bandit, slicing wounds all over his weathered body. A line across the arm. A gash on the shoulder. A stab through the thigh.
He was a shadow sculpting death.
The Bandit was his clay.
By the time his knees gave way to the pain, the Bandit's body was leaking red from half a dozen cuts.
He fell, trembling, breathing wetly through blood.
Percival stood before him, his face hidden completely by the shadows of his mane, his dark blue pupils boring down at him.
"You—" the Bandit gasped, eyes mad and wild. "Stop the torture, please! Just kill me already!"
Percival stepped forward. With a cold movement, he extended his sword, lifting the man's jaw with the tip of his blade.
"I wouldn't mind," he said quietly. "But you're not my kill to take."
The Bandit's eyes widened with more fear. "W–What?"
Percival lifted his left hand. "Awake."
To his absolute terror, the Bandit saw the corpses of his comrades burst into dark blue fire.
Their skeletons rose, eyes aflame, armor clattering, two wielding a sword, one an axe.
They advanced towards him.
His terror twisted into madness. "No! No! Gods damn you! You lunatic! Just kill me! Kill me yourself! What kind of man makes the bones of a man's brothers kill him?!"
Percival watched without an expression. "Brothers in life..."
"No!!!"
Their blades came down.
The screams ended.
⸢Quest Complete: Secure first kill with an Undead Soldier⸥
⸢Rewards: +50 EXP, +1 Skill Point, +20 Mana Coins⸥
Silence returned, broken only by the crackling blue flames of his Skeleton Soldiers.
The trader suddenly crawled forward, clutching his daughter. "Oh, the gods bless you, good sir! T—Thank you! Thank you for saving us!"
Percival flung the Iron Sword aside and picked up the Bandit leader's own blade.
⸢Steel Broadsword — D Grade⸥
⸢Property: Reinforced Steel Alloy⸥
⸢Aspect: Enhanced sharpness and resistance to chipping⸥
⸢Attack: +7⸥
"It's fine," he said to the man, sheathing the sword.
"Fine?" The man shook his head. "You slew them all. I've never seen a Summoner fight like that. I almost thought you were a Swordsman!"
Percival turned to give the man a look. This was the second time someone was pointing this out.
He hadn't really thought about it before, but was his Swordsman Class hidden?
"Father," the man's daughter whispered, tugging his sleeve. "Look… his hair."
The trader frowned. "What is it, Ilsa?"
"The mane of a wolf," she said, her eyes trembling as they met Percival's for a moment. "He's the cursed Hero."
She pulled away from him, hiding behind her father.
The man froze, then looked up at Percival, whose gaze met his in quiet expectation.
This was the part, Percival knew, where the contempt of humans revealed itself.
He expected the man's kind words to vanish, and for his face to turn to a scornful sneer.
Neither of that happened.
Instead, the trader reprimanded his daughter. "Listen to me, Ilsa. It doesn't matter who this young man is. He saved us. For that alone, we owe him our gratitude."
Percival stared.
People like this… still existed?
For all he knew, his former world and this were mostly the same.
Everyone was selfish and hateful.
But this reminder that there were still some genuine kindhearted people, it didn't warm Percival's heart.
It only agonized him.
The man bowed. "Please forgive my daughter's tongue, good sir. Is there any way we can repay your kindness?"
Percival stared at him again.
Kindness. That word was a lie.
Percival hadn't done any of this out of kindness.
He'd done it to complete a quest.
For EXP, and for a Skill Point.
He thought to himself: if there had been no reward for killing these Bandits, would he have let the trader and his daughter die?
Percival feared the answer.
He decided not to think about it again. Preferably never.
"Thanks for the offer," he said. "But I must go."
"To where, sir?"
Percival had no secrets.
"Wolsend."
The man's brows lifted. "Wolsend? Ah, of course. Since you're an Awakener, you're probably going there to challenge the Gate Worlds. Those terrifying things. Say, one just opened near the market not two hours ago!"
Percival's brows creased sharply. "A Gate World?"
"Indeed! That's why we fled early. Hopefully the Gatewatch will be there soon enough to seal it off. God willing, they do it before the danger spills out. Withercrook has suffered enough."
Percival couldn't believe it. A newly opened Gate World.
If he could reach it before the Gatewatch, it would belong to him. Though he would have to clear it first.
This was a silver platter.
"Thank you," he said to the man, turning away.
He stopped by the Bandit Leader's corpse and outstretched his hand. "Awake."
The skeleton rose, burning blue with an undead version of the Steel Broadsword in its grasp.
⸢Skeleton Soldier⸥
⸢Rank: D⸥
⸢Type: Skirmisher⸥
His first D Rank Summon.
Percival hummed with satisfaction, and headed down the path, towards the market.
"Hero!" the trader called after him. "Where are you going? Wait! You can't be thinking of challenging a Gate World on your own. Please, wait for the Gatewatch! Hero!"
But Percival continued down the path, his Skeleton Soldiers clanking after him.
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A/N: Hey there! Hopefully you've enjoyed the start of the story so far. Please don't forget to support with your power stones. That helps to motivate me to keep writing! Thank you!