Nathan – POV
We celebrated Serena’s birthday a day late, but this time our meal was nothing short of a feast. My siblings’ eyes went wide as owls at the sheer amount of food Mother laid out before us.
Serena even had her very first cake, and the sight alone filled her with glee. She squealed with delight when Mother carried it out, her laughter echoing through the room. I was honestly surprised that a medieval society even had something resembling cake.
When I tasted it, however, disappointment struck. It lacked sweetness, more like bread with a hint of sugar than any true dessert. Dull. But I didn’t complain. Instead, I silently vowed to flood this world with pastries and confections from modern Earth.
Still, the joy on Serena’s face was reward enough. She was radiant, and the rest of the family shared in her happiness. Amazing what a little gold can do for a family weighed down by poverty. I was glad I had chosen to share the gold my PA had acquired for me. Ahem.
Speaking of which, Krizek must have been wreaking havoc in the baron’s son’s camp, for I overheard my parents discussing it. The whole town was abuzz with the tale of Guy Fredrick, who kept being robbed by some unseen thief. The guards and the baron’s men-at-arms had grown increasingly aggressive in their inspections. Just the other day, Sir Robert himself came to our home for an unannounced search. He was polite, as always, but made it clear he was acting under orders.
Thankfully, my parents had the sense to keep their spending modest, avoiding suspicion. They even pieced together their own theory, that the thief must have dropped the pouch of gold near our house. Close, but still far from the truth. Hehehe.
At least their deduction silenced any talk of returning the money to the baron’s son. Doing so would have been suicide; suspicion would have fallen on them instantly. Instead, Father devised a clever plan: he would sell more of his hunting spoils, making it appear as though his sudden prosperity was earned, not stolen. That way, no one would question him when he sent Jack to the knight school at the old baron’s estate.
The so-called “knight school” wasn’t a school in the modern sense. Wealthy families sent their children to the baron’s estate to be trained in the arts of knighthood, ideally before the child turned ten and underwent the advancement ceremony. Supposedly, such training influenced the world’s system, increasing the chance of being granted a warrior class.
In this world, strength of arms was everything, rogues, brawlers, hunters, mages, warriors. Jack would be sent when he turned eight, and Father believed it would improve his odds. The cost, however, was five gold a year. Outrageous. A rip-off, if you ask me.
Not that I minded. Anything for my family. Besides, I already had two classes: Shadow Mage and Warlock.
Yet even those with good classes often found themselves shackled by circumstance. Take my parents, for example. Jakob was a mid-level hunter, Dianne a mid-level healer. Normally, such talents would be highly sought after. But they were Shaxaian refugees.
The Shaxaian Empire; once mighty, sophisticated, and envied by all; had fractured into war and ruin. Its people fled, scattered across kingdoms, only to be treated as second-class citizens, barely above serfs. The envy others once felt for Shaxaian prosperity had curdled into spite, and the Slalenese Theocracy forbade them from adventuring, citing “security concerns.” Security, my ass. It was nothing but an excuse to keep them beneath their boots.
I learned all this during Serena’s birthday celebration. What I didn’t learn was why the empire fell and why my parents had to flee this far away from their lands. That mystery remains.
Serena, meanwhile, dreamed of becoming a mage. I was tempted to teach her how to sense mana. I didn’t know how to teach her myself, but I would try. I couldn’t let her be left behind. Father promised to send me to the knight school as well when I turned eight. Thanks, but no thanks, Dad.
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Months passed. Dianne quit her job at the tavern, no longer needing the income thanks to Jakob’s increasingly bountiful hunts. She stayed home with me and Serena, while the baron’s son continued to be robbed. The guards and knights searched endlessly for the culprit. Honestly, how much gold did that fool even have?
With more time at home, Serena and I played together often. But my true goal was practice. I hadn’t advanced in months, and my third birthday was approaching. Serena clung to me constantly, so I decided to rope her into my training. Not that I minded, her company was a comfort. Jack, meanwhile, grew ever more serious, shadowing Father on hunts. He might yet become a talented hunter.
Then one day, I heard the familiar, sinister voice of my PA in my head.
“Master, it is time to execute the baron’s son,” Krizek said. “How do you want me to proceed?”
“Can you make it look like an accident?” I asked.
“Of course, Master.”
“Go...and be careful.” I meant it. Malevolent though he was, the little imp had begun to grow on me.
The next day, Father and Jack returned from town, their faces pale with shock.
“You will not believe what happened,” Father told Dianne.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Guy is dead. An accident, apparently. A loose stone from the baron’s mansion fell on his head. The strange thing is, Guy was level thirty. His constitution should have let him survive such a blow.”
“Maybe he didn’t invest his points in constitution,” Dianne mused. “What of the baron?”
“He was devastated. His heir now is the youngest daughter from his second wife.”
“That little girl? I hope she proves a better baroness than his sons,” Dianne said.
I already knew of Guy’s death an hour earlier. The notification had appeared before me, though I hadn’t dared open my status screen with Serena nearby. After Krizek reported his success, I unsummoned him.
That night, when the house was silent, I carefully extricated myself from between Mother and Father’s arms and crept to the dining room. Alone in the dark, I whispered the command in my mind:
Status:
Name: Nathan
Class: Shadow Mage, Warlock Demonologist, Affliction, Destruction
Title: Otherworldly Knowledge
Level: 20
HP: 210
MP: 3600
Strength: 16 + 5 = 21
Stamina: 16 + 5 = 21
Agility: 16 + 5 = 21
Dexterity: 16 + 5 = 21
Intelligence: 335 + 25 = 360
Constitution: 16 + 5 = 21
Affinity: Shadow SSS+, Fel Energy SSS+
Active Skills: Shadow Bolt 4, Demon Skin 2, Immolate 3, Summon Imp, Shadow Tendrils1, Corruption 2, Curse of Weakness 2, Life Tap 2, Curse of Agony 2, Fear 1, Summon Voidwalker, Drain Soul 1, Create Healthstone (minor), Health Funnel 2, Drain Life 1, Curse of Recklessness 1, Unending Breath, Searing Pain 1, Create Soulstone (minor), Ritual of Summoning, Summon Succubus, Summon Incubus, Rain of Fire 1, Demon Armor 1
Passive Skills: Mana Sense 2
Holy shit! Five levels.
Hell yeah! As expected, my warlock skills had surged...and there were new ones too.
Wait… Incubus? That’s new. I quickly pulled up my search function and, sure enough, there it was: Incubus. Well, I’m not complaining.
Even better, I noticed Destruction and Affliction had been added to my status. What the hell? I could wield all three at once. Yes!
Now the real problem: practice. These spells weren’t the kind you tested in the backyard without accidentally leveling the neighborhood. How the hell was I supposed to train without blowing something...or someone...up?
My shadow spell is still shadow tendrils at rank 1. I may have to ask mother and father some books about...all these stuffs.
“Nathan? Why are you just staring at the wall?” Dianne’s voice cut through my scheming.
Oh, shit.
“Mama, I was on my way to the toilet… and then I got scared,” I blurted.
She chuckled softly. “Silly boy. Come here, let me help you with your pee-pee.”
…Dammit. The indignity of this world knew no bounds. I exhaled deeply, resigned to my fate, and trudged after her toward the stinking outhouse.
