NOVEL NEXT Chapter 70: Goal, Aim, Ambition
The cool, damp air of the hideout still clung to me, but a new kind of energy pulsed beneath my skin. My body, now an Apprentice-level Sword Knight, felt sharper, more responsive. The D-tier techniques were ingrained, ready to be called upon with a thought. My training with Herald had been brutal, effective, and utterly transformative.
I flickered my hand, and the Narrative Override Engine materialized before me, its familiar blue light cutting through the dimness of the underground chamber. I hadn't checked my stats since the draw, since I gambled all 24 of my Override Points on the hope of unlocking a new ability. My stomach clenched slightly as I navigated to the main interface.
My eyes scanned the numbers.
[OVERRIDE POINTS]: 15
My breath hitched. Fifteen. I had spent 24, and now I had 15. It wasn't the 150 I needed for Narrative Redaction, but it was a significant recovery. It meant my ascension, my breakthrough to the Apprentice realm, had been a major story alteration, a significant deviation from the original narrative. The system had rewarded me.
I quickly checked the other stats.
[REALITY DIVERGENCE]: 15.5%
[GLITCH COEFFICIENT]: 16%
The numbers had indeed climbed. Reality Divergence had increased by 0.5%, and Glitch by 0.2%. My ascension, a personal triumph, had come at a cost to the narrative's stability. It was a constant reminder that every action I took, every power I gained, had consequences for the world around me. The system was reacting, adapting, and perhaps, struggling.
Then, my gaze fell on two new lines, previously absent from my stat screen.
**[REALM]: Apprentice**
**[JOB]: Sword Knight**
A small, grim satisfaction settled in my chest. The system had officially recognized my new status. I was no longer just an 'Extra' or a 'Background Character' with hidden abilities. I had a **Realm**, a measure of my power, and a **Job**, a recognized role in this world. Apprentice. Sword Knight. It was a tangible mark of my progress, a validation of Herald's brutal training. It meant I was truly on the path, whether I liked it or not.
I closed the system, the blue light vanishing. My new reality, once a terrifying unknown, was slowly solidifying. I was a Sword Knight. An Apprentice. And I was Herald's disciple.
Just then, Herald's voice cut through the quiet of the hideout. He had been meditating in his corner, his presence a heavy, constant weight. "Disciple," he stated, his voice flat, "pack your remaining belongings. We depart for the capital at dawn."
My mind immediately shifted gears. The capital. Elyndor. The Academy. The commoner's route. The next phase of Herald's plan.
Mudrel, who had been tending to Bella in another corner of the hideout, looked up. Bella, the cat beast-kin, was curled at his feet, purring softly as he stroked her fur. Mudrel's face, usually grim, was etched with a familiar concern.
"Herald," Mudrel began, his voice gruff, "about Bella. And myself. The cult's presence in Megmura has been growing. My activities here, my intelligence gathering for you… it's drawing their attention. It's only a matter of time before they pinpoint this location. It won't be safe for Bella here. And if they find me, they'll come for her." He looked down at the beast-kin, his hand gently stroking her head. "I can't leave her."
Herald was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on Mudrel, then on Bella. "She is a liability," Herald stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "A distraction."
"She is innocent," Mudrel countered, his voice firm, a rare display of defiance. "And she is all I have left. If you take the boy, take her too. She can assist him. She is agile. Her senses are keen. She can be useful."
I looked at Bella. Her large, frightened eyes were fixed on Mudrel, then on Herald, then on me. She was a victim of this world's cruelty, a living artifact of its depravity. And Mudrel, the hardened revolutionary, cared for her deeply.
Herald sighed, a low, weary sound. "Very well," he conceded, his voice flat. "She may accompany us. But she will follow my commands. And she will not be a distraction."
Mudrel's grim face softened with relief. "Thank you, Herald." He looked at Bella, a faint smile touching his lips. "You hear that, little one? You're coming with us." Bella purred louder, rubbing against his leg.
And so, my small satchel packed, my training sword secured, I prepared for the journey back to Elyndor. This time, however, I wouldn't be alone with Herald. Mudrel would accompany us for the initial part of the journey, ensuring Bella's safety, before returning to his clandestine activities.
The journey back to the capital was different from the hurried, secretive trip to Megmura. We still traveled mostly at night, avoiding main roads, but there was a new dynamic. Mudrel, despite his gruff exterior, was a surprisingly good companion. He would share stories of his time in the Republican Movement, his battles against the Ostinan aristocracy, his grim observations of the cult's infiltration. He spoke of the injustices, the suffering of the common folk, the desperate fight for freedom. His words painted a vivid, often brutal, picture of the political landscape of Ostina, a reality far more complex than the simplified narrative of *Hero's Vow*.
Bella, initially shy and timid, slowly began to open up. She would often walk beside me, her soft fur brushing against my leg. Sometimes, she would even chase after small insects or rustling leaves, her beast instincts kicking in, a brief moment of childlike playfulness in the grim reality of our journey. I would offer her small pieces of dried meat, and she would purr, a soft, rumbling sound that was a welcome change from the constant tension. Her presence was a small, comforting balm, a reminder of the innocent lives caught in this grand, terrifying conflict.
Herald remained Herald. Mostly silent, always vigilant. He would occasionally offer terse commands, or point out subtle shifts in the mana environment, forcing me to hone my senses. He continued my training even on the road, making me practice my D-tier techniques against imaginary opponents, or forcing me to maintain my Mana Sheath for extended periods, even while walking. His expectations were absolute, his demands relentless.
As we moved away from Megmura, the landscape gradually shifted. The dry, barren scrubland gave way to rolling hills and then, finally, to the familiar, lush forests of central Ostina. The air grew cleaner, the scent of pine and damp earth replacing the stench of squalor. The signs of civilization became more frequent – small villages, then larger towns, and finally, the distant glow of Elyndor, the capital, on the horizon.
During the journey, my mind often drifted to my own situation. My new reality. I was Herald's disciple, an Apprentice-level Sword Knight, heading to the Academy through the commoner's route, all to infiltrate a cult-infested institution. My original goal – to find peace, to survive by avoiding the spotlight – felt like a distant, naive dream. That dream was shattered.
But something else was growing within me. A new resolve. A new purpose. I had been dragged into this world, forced into this conflict. I had witnessed horrors, experienced pain, and been used as a pawn. But I was also gaining power. Unimaginable power. I had the system, the Narrative Override Engine, a tool that could literally rewrite reality. I had Herald's training, the guidance of a Sword Sovereign. I had ascended to the Apprentice realm, and I knew there were higher realms to conquer.
The thought solidified in my mind, a cold, hard truth that resonated with every fiber of my being. Survival. True survival. It wasn't about hiding. It wasn't about avoiding the spotlight. It was about ultimate strength.
I looked at Herald, walking silently beside me, his presence a constant reminder of the power I still lacked. He was a Sword Sovereign, the pinnacle of known sword mastery. But he wasn't omnipotent. He had limitations. And I had the system.
I looked at the distant glow of Elyndor, the capital, the seat of power, the heart of the conflict. The Academy awaited. The cult awaited. And beyond them, the Demon Lord Asmodeus, the ultimate threat.
A grim smile touched my lips. My goal in this world was no longer simply to survive. It was to become the strongest. By all means. Stronger than Herald, the Sword Sovereign. Stronger than even the "god" that sent me here, the unseen force that controlled this narrative, that had plucked me from my old life and thrust me into this one. Because ultimate strength was the only way to ensure true survival. The only way to ensure true control. The only way to truly be free.