Far From Vanilla: Modded Game Reincarnation

Eric sat silently in the office of the Southern River Gate, patiently awaiting the return of his superior. When he did return however, he was in a far more unfortunate state than the soldier had ever seen someone of his caliber before.

“Sir…” He asked softly at the man who basically was his father, “What happened? Did he do this?” 

Rudolf looked at his ward, subordinate, and son with a chuckle. He knew exactly what the younger man was referring to. “Oh this?” He motioned to the damage in his armor.

Eric looked at the section of Rudolf’s armor, a large-fist sized dent of an imprint of someone’s hand. In fact much of the breastplate was crumpled due to the blow, with only the chief guard’s inherent durability being the reason his lower-right organs hadn’t collapsed.

Still however, there was a very dark purple bruise with splotches of blood dripping from his own pores. “This is nothing, Eric.” He chuckled, “Just a scratch.”

“So that man did that?” The soldier’s unease had visibly taken hold over his expression, “Did you kill him?”

Rudolf only shook his head, “I should’ve, he’s too dangerous to be alive and his allegiances are unknown. And he’s growing stronger… day by day.”

“But you’re stronger, right?” Eric jumped from his seat. 

The idea of the strongest man in the whole city of Ironhold saying anything along those lines would’ve been unforeseen, especially in his lifespan. He was a hundred and ten-cycles old, with ninety having been dedicated in servitude.

“Of course, I am.” Rudolf answered back, but his voice was less energetic. Instead the older man just sighed and looked at the roof of the office, ignoring the healing potion that was put on his desk and thought deeply.

 “But I’m not sure for much longer.” The pain in his side was helpful. “You know, Eric… the previous chief was right.”

“About what, sir?”

“That when you’re in a position such as this,” Rudolf pointed at his desk, “even if you were the best in the whole land, there will come a time where you’ll have to step down.”

Eric blinked, thinking. “Why, Sir?”

“I asked the old chief the same thing,” The chief guard laughed, but his boisterousness died down soon after, “He said that the young’uns would show me.”

Eric watched the man stand and take a heavy gulp of the potion, inhaling its contents as if it were air. 

“Don’t slack on your training now, or else you’ll fall behind that monster.” The wound on his side began to shrink, the bruised flesh returning to a healthy shade, as if there weren’t any injury in the first place. “You’ll have to work extra hard, from now on.” 

“I understand, Sir.” Eric grimmly nodded. “I promise.”

There was a reason as to why the Chief guard was alone with one subordinate in the post facing the monster monsters, that was his successor’s training. A strength that can hold a garrison together only came from the hundreds upon hundreds of monsters that the successor would have to slay, for in the deaths of their enemies can only his growth be fed.

“But for now, you should get to know Hyun. He’s a good kid and he’s someone your age. A drink or two won’t hurt.”

“But he hurt you, Sir…”

Rudolf shrugged, “I tried to kill him so why shouldn’t he?” He just shook his head, “If he wasn’t so mysterious, I wouldn’t have tried. But something tells me that he’s the key to ending this whole Feud with the Mercury’s.”

Rudolf reached for the straps that connected his armor together and began unbuckling the cumbersome equipment, flexing his toned body as he did so. The freedom was refreshing.

“Make sure to do good on that, if it works out, then you’ll have someone powerful as a friend if things go wrong in the city.”

“As you say.” Eric bowed obediently, “I’ll try.”

I laid on the dirty ground, absolutely battered and bruised all around. However, unlike the pain of the injuries, they were shallow unlike my right hand, which definitely needed a potion and some medicine.  I don't remember much after I landed a hit on Rudolf-- except the part wheree he beat me unconscious.

It was proof that although Rudolf planned to kill me, I proved my worth midway through his test and was deemed useful. He just added the pummeling for discipline I guess.

“It definitely was retaliation, don’t kid yourself.” The Journal huffed. “No one in a long while has probably even hit him, let alone injure him. His pride must have been pricked by your showing. Personally, I would’ve done the same except I’d actually kill you.”

“Very reassuring.” I hoarsely chuckled.

 How long has it been since I’ve been beaten like this? Eleven days? A new record I think? Or was the last one fourteen days?

My head has probably been inflated with how much I’ve succeeded in catching criminals, so I definitely deserved this coming my way. I need to further study and practice the sword. Compared to people like Rudolf, I'm way too weak. 

“We should get to the inn, huh?” I raised a fist into the sky, clenching it hard with the rest of my strength.

I have so much to learn because I just met the bigger fish, perhaps the biggest fish in the entirety of this city. 

I landed a clean hit, but after that nothing else worked. I was kept in check and kicked down a few pegs, my overinflated ego had deflated into a normal size.

“I really wonder, how strong is Rudolf? If there was only a way to find out.”

“Fawn over the powerful man later, we need to treat your injuries. What is the point of such inquiries if you become disabled?”

[][][]

I raised my longsword and tried to mimic the move Rudolf just performed, and I racked my brain for a few hours that day. Soon, the hours trickled into days as my wounds began to heal. 

Throughout that period, I couldn’t move much because of the medicine-soaked bandages that I wrapped all over my body, nor could I breathe anything else apart from herbs. But I was not idle.

“Was it a shoo-wha?” I mimicked the move with my left hand, clumsily since my right hand was heavily wrapped in bandages. I must’ve repeated the same statement enough times for the Journal to grumble. “Or was it a whoo-sha?”

“How much longer are you going to make a fool of yourself?” I turned to the Journal. 

“How many times are we going to have this conversation?” I frowned at him, “Let me try to learn it on my own, alright? I can’t rely on you for everything.” 

“I understand that, brat.” The Journal sounded just exasperated, “But you know quite well that it’s impossible for you to learn such a technique, both because of your current weakness and lack of understanding of it.”

“I know…” I looked at the ground, “There’s so much for me to learn… and I need to get stronger, but are you really the only solution I have to my problems? I know very well that effort is also important.”

“You do have a point, but understand this,” I felt the Journal's presence on my shoulder, like a reassuring hand, “Luck is also a key factor in the growth of power. Talent is not a privilege everybody can have, one has to be born with it. Effort can only take you so far, and from that point on it all falls onto luck.”

“What?” I looked at the book sitting on my bed, “Was I lucky to have found you then?”

“Yes you are, and you know it.” The Journal replied, “Although I understand your preference to not use me to solve every problem you come across, as honorable as it is, there are some walls you cannot overcome alone.”

“Furthermore, time is not a luxury you have at the moment, Cody, the boy, is in grave danger. ” 

“I understand…”

“If you deem Rudolf’s technique a necessity, you know what to do.”

As frustrating as it was, I understood what the Journal was trying to tell me. In fact, I’ve known the facts for quite a while now, I just didn’t like it. I never was one to cheat in games, because if you did use cheats, what’s even the point of playing the game in the first place?

What is the purpose of playing a game about challenges if you did not persevere through the tasks before you legitimately? However, like I had said before, this world is no longer a game. Cody’s life was in the balance. 

But these two weeks were not just wasted in me trying out that skill, I’ve been beating sword skills from many weapons into my muscle memory. Rudolf’s disarming maneuver was just an extra objective. 

It is definitely useful, that is why I began to covet it. Plus, there is the fact that learning through the Journal is not cheap. “How much will it set me back?”

“Three gold coins.”

“Steep.” I reached into my chainmail purse and procured the necessary funds. I laid out all my belongings onto the large table, my now empty purse right next to the pile. “Was that the perfect amount, or were you just being a dick?”

“Like I've said, I can’t give you an answer.”

“I can taste the mischief in your voice, prick.”

Thirty-one gold and fifty silver-coins were depleted nearly instantly this past two weeks, from equipment alone, and the last of my funds were expended on learning this skill. Even when I was bounty hunting, the earnings were so menial that they were spent on food outside of the inn.

There was sword training to earn but you see, practicing the sword for my own personal use wasn’t the primary objective. In my opinion the sword takes way too long to build proficiency with to use in actual combat, with many knights and practitioners dedicating much of their life to studying the weapon. 

Granted time isn’t viewed and treated the same here in this world compacted to earth, but time flows the same. A month of my learning, regardless of how expedited it is by the assistance of the journal, is still a month’s worth of learning. 

I can’t learn the sword quickly enough in a month to be able to use it in life-or-death battles, let alone master it. Rudolf was proof enough of this so the petty criminals I’ve been catching at night were nothing short of chores. Even one handed, I can still fend for myself, even in a city.

“Sometimes I forget that you are quite intelligent, even for a mortal.” The Journal looked at tequipment approvingly, “You just ask very stupid questions.”

“I wouldn’t ask stupid questions if I weren’t completely ignorant of the world and how you work,” I shot back just as quickly, “I am a man of the scientific method.”

“Just put on the armor you paid a premium for, boy.”

The Journal may have a sharp tongue but the wisdom engraved in his infinite pages is proof enough that his intelligence does not equal his pride. According to him, arrogance, pride, and confidence is earned and I agree. He has lived long enough and has experienced much to have earned that much at least.

But for the sake of our mutual peace, I will refrain from mentioning how he was even reduced to such a state. Do you honestly believe that a powerful being was taxidermied without  fight? I don’t think I can pay the price for such an answer, and neither am I eager to find out what turned him into that.

Should I be thankful though? Because without whomever doing that to the journal, I wouldn't have been able to get so far in such a short amount of time. 

I prefer not to imagine the hardships, I’ve been through enough.