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….
Dragonsreach was quiet compared to the chaos outside. Jarl Balgruuf listened to Irileth's report intently, his eyes widening as she described the shout.
He stood from his throne and walked down the steps to where Shiro was waiting.
"You have done a great service to me and my city," Balgruuf said, his voice echoing in the great hall. "Take a knee."
Shiro knelt.
"By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It is the greatest honor that is within my power to grant." He motioned to his steward, Proventus, who handed the Jarl a heavy, finely crafted weapon. Balgruuf presented it to Shiro. "I assign you this weapon from my armory to serve as your badge of office. I also notify you that Lydia will be your Housecarl. Rise, Thane Shiro."
[Title Acquired: Thane of Whiterun]
[Reward: 1200 XP]
[Effect: You are considered nobility in Whiterun. Guards will look the other way for minor crimes. "Welcome to the club."]
Shiro accepted the weapon, his hand dipping slightly under the weight.
[Dwarven Sword of Sparks]
[Attack: 21 + 5 Shock Damage]
"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf," Shiro said, bowing his head.
The Jarl smiled and began explaining the privileges, the right to buy property in the city, the ability to invest in businesses, the immunity to petty laws. Shiro nodded along, polite but distracted. He could feel the dungeon timer ticking down in the back of his mind.
As soon as the Jarl dismissed him, Shiro checked the clock.
[Time Left: 00:15 Minutes]
"I need to rest," Shiro muttered. He said his quick goodbyes to Irileth and the court, turning down an invitation for a celebratory feast.
He practically sprinted to the Bannered Mare. He tossed a coin to Hulda for a room, not waiting for change, and stumbled up the stairs. The moment he closed the door, the exhaustion he'd been holding back crashed over him. His limbs felt like lead.
He fell onto the bed, not bothering to take off his armor. He stared at the ceiling as the digital interface superimposed itself over his vision.
3...
2...
1...
[Forced Exit of Dungeon]
"Wake up or I'll stab you! Wake up or I'll stab you!"
The screeching, high-pitched voice drilled into Shiro's skull, dragging him out of a deep, comatose sleep. His eyes snapped open, glowing faintly blue for a split second. Instinct took over before his conscious mind could catch up.
He didn't reach for the snooze button. He pointed a finger.
[Lightning Bolt]
CRACK-HISS.
A small arc of electricity jumped from his fingertip, striking the plastic device on his nightstand. Smoke curled up from the speaker.
"I swear..." Shiro groaned, sitting up and rubbing his face. "Out of all the damn alarm clocks in the world, I had to get the tsundere model."
He looked over at the charred remains. The anime figurine attached to the clock was melted slightly, and the speaker let out a dying, distorted wail.
"You've... killed... me... Oni-chan... How... c-could you..."
A vein throbbed on Shiro's temple.
"That's it."
He grabbed the smoking clock and tossed it into the air. He didn't even look at it as he flicked his wrist.
[Ice Spike]
A shard of ice the size of a dagger materialized and shot upward, slicing the clock cleanly in half before it hit the floor. The voice cut out instantly.
"Aww... sweet bliss," Shiro muttered, exhaling deeply. He turned his head, looking out the window at the quiet morning street.
….
After the incident with the alarm, Shiro actually found himself looking forward to school. The three days, or rather, six hours, in Skyrim had changed him. It wasn't just the levels or the loot; it was the way his body felt.
He moved with a fluidity that shouldn't belong to a high school student.
Down in the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of orange juice. He was still groggy, his mind half-stuck on the memory of the dragon fight. As he lifted the glass, condensation made it slick. It slipped from his fingers.
Reflexes he didn't have yesterday kicked in. His hand snapped down, snatching the glass out of the air before it could fall an inch. But he didn't just catch it.
CRUNCH.
The glass shattered in his grip. But it didn't break like glass usually did, it crumpled. He had crushed it as easily as a plastic solo cup.
Shiro froze, juice dripping onto the linoleum. He slowly opened his hand. Pulverized glass dust and shards fell into the sink. He wiped his hand on a towel and inspected the skin.
Nothing. Not a scratch. Not even a drop of blood.
"Okay," Shiro whispered, staring at his palm. "That's new."
He cleaned up the mess quickly, dumping the shards in the trash, and grabbed his bag. If that didn't prove his stats had transferred over, nothing would.
He headed to school, feeling strangely detached from the mundane world. He didn't think he looked any different. He felt heavier, grounded, but he assumed he looked like the same average teenager who had gone to sleep six hours ago.
That theory died the moment he walked through the school gates.
It started with a few glances from students, which he ignored. But when he walked past the staff room, two of the younger female teachers stopped their conversation mid-sentence. They stared at him as he passed, their eyes lingering a little too long on his chest and shoulders.
Shiro frowned. Is there soot on my face?
He ducked into the nearest men's bathroom and locked the door. He dropped his bag and moved to the mirror, bracing himself for scars or dragon burns.
His face was clear. But something was wrong with his uniform.
The white dress shirt, which had been loose on him on Friday, was now straining against his skin. The fabric was pulled tight across his chest, the buttons holding on for dear life.
Shiro unbuttoned the shirt and pulled it off. He gasped.
The reflection staring back at him wasn't the scrawny kid he knew.
The training with Farkas, the dragon fight, the stat points poured into Strength and Endurance, it was all there, carved into his biology.
His muscles hadn't just grown; they had doubled in density. His chest was broad, his abs defined like chiseled stone, and his arms were corded with lean, powerful muscle.
….
Hey guys if u like the fanfic and want to read ahead by 10+ Chapters or just want to support take a visit on my patreon.
(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
http://patreon.com/Marin_kitawaga