Chương 7: The City Knights

Rain poured over the streets of Paris in heavy sheets, sliding down building facades and forming streams along the edges of the sidewalks. Aldric walked on without looking for shelter. Water struck his armor, rolled across the metal plates, and splashed beneath his boots. Some of the black blood had begun to dissolve, leaving dark streaks running down his legs. Pedestrians stepped aside as he approached. Some raised their phones, while others lowered their heads and hurried away.

A woman pulled her child close when the sword became visible beneath his rain-soaked cloak. Aldric paid them no attention. His focus remained fixed on the system window. △ MAIN QUEST △ Acquire Legal Currency Current Funds: 0 EUR He had tried exchanging his possessions, then selling one of them. Both methods had failed. That left employment, or another solution the system refused to specify. Finding work didn't seem particularly difficult.

He could carry heavy loads, guard a gate, escort merchants, or help defend the city. Even without magic, his abilities surpassed those of most soldiers he had encountered in his own world. The problem was that he had no idea where the local guilds posted their contracts. He stopped beneath a glowing sign depicting the silhouette of someone holding a tool. Behind the window, several people worked around large machines. Sparks flew from the back of the workshop.

Aldric considered going inside, but his gaze fell on his reflection. His armor was soaked with rain and demon blood. The marks of battle still covered his face. He looked less like a man searching for work than a survivor who had just walked away from a massacre. A sharp sound came from behind him. Aldric turned. A blue-and-white vehicle had pulled up beside the curb. Two men stepped out. They wore the same uniforms as the officers he had met the previous day.

The first was tall and broad-shouldered, with a neatly trimmed dark beard. The second was older, with gray hair and a face lined by deep wrinkles. Neither drew a weapon. They approached slowly, keeping their hands visible. Aldric straightened. City knights. He placed his fist over his chest and bowed his head.

"Greetings."

"Good morning, sir," the older man said.

"We received a report about an armed man who had just left an antique shop."

"I was in that shop."

"All right."

"The merchant failed to recognize the value of my weapon. I left without causing any trouble." The bearded officer raised an eyebrow.

"You tried to sell the sword?"

"Yes."

"Is it real?"

"Yes."

"We're going to ask you not to touch it."

"I understand." Aldric slowly moved his hands away from his body. Rainwater streamed down his fingers.

"Do you mind if we inspect it?"

"Go ahead." The bearded officer stepped forward. He kept one hand near the holster on his belt while reaching for the scabbard with the other.

"I'm going to remove the weapon," he said.

"Proceed." The officer grabbed the straps. The moment he lifted the sword, his arm dropped abruptly. He tightened his grip and used both hands.

"Good Lord," he muttered. His partner stepped closer.

"You okay?"

"It's a lot heavier than it looks." Aldric watched the officer struggle to keep the weapon level.

"Fifty-two pounds," he said.

"In kilograms?"

"I'm not familiar with that unit." The older officer took the scabbard with his partner and laid it across the hood of the vehicle.

"Do you have a permit to carry something like this?" he asked.

"King Edrian granted me the right to bear arms in all allied kingdoms."

"King Edrian."

"Yes."

"Which country is that?"

"Asteria." The bearded officer glanced away for a moment. His partner remained serious.

"Do you have any identification?"

"No."

"A passport?"

"No."

"A driver's license?"

"I don't know what that is."

"Any paperwork at all?" Aldric slowly reached beneath his breastplate. Both officers tensed immediately.

"I'm taking out my royal insignia," he said.

"Slowly," the older officer replied. Aldric removed the silver badge and held it out. The officer took it between two fingers. A sun pierced by a sword gleamed on its surface, while the words of Asteria circled the symbol.

"It's beautiful," the bearded officer admitted.

"This insignia confirms my place in the Royal Guard and my rank as a Knight of Valdor."

"There's no name on it," the older officer pointed out.

"The seal is sufficient."

"Not here." Aldric took the insignia back and tucked it beneath his armor.

"I understand."

"What's your name?" the officer asked.

"Aldric of Valdor."

"Aldric is your first name?"

"Yes."

"And Valdor is your last name?"

"It's the name of my land."

"So your full name is Aldric of Valdor."

"Exactly." The officer pulled out a small notebook.

"Date of birth?"

"The twelfth day of the Month of Ashes, in the nine hundred and eighty-seventh year of the Royal Calendar." The officer's pen froze above the page.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"All right. Nationality?"

"Asterian."

"That doesn't exist," the bearded officer muttered.

"My kingdom does." You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"I mean, it's not on our records."

"Then your records are incomplete." The older officer took a slow breath.

"Your address?"

"I don't have one."

"Are you staying somewhere?"

"I slept in a park."

"Which one?"

"I don't know its name."

"How long have you been in Paris?"

"One day."

"Where were you before Paris?" he asked.

"The Fortress of Malachar."

"In what country?"

"In the Demon King's lands." The officer pressed his lips together for a moment.

"All right."

"He's dead."

"Who is?"

"The Demon King."

"Of course he is."

"I killed him yesterday morning."

"With the sword?"

"Yes."

"That explains the stains."

"His blood resists water." Silence settled between them. The rain continued to fall, drumming against the police car and the officers' shoulders. Several pedestrians slowed down across the street to watch the scene. The older officer closed his notebook.

"Mr. of Valdor, we're going to ask you to come with us to the station." Aldric looked at the building behind them, then at their vehicle.

"Am I under arrest?"

"No."

"Then why must I come with you?"

"Because you're armed, you have no identification, no address, and you're claiming to have come from an imaginary kingdom after killing a demon."

"Asteria is not imaginary."

"All right. But we need to verify your identity and understand what's going on."

"I accept." The bearded officer tried to lift the sword.

"We'll put it in the trunk."

"I'd rather keep it with me."

"That's not possible."

"It must not leave my sight."

"It'll be out of your sight during the drive."

"Please be careful not to damage the Sunstones."

"We'll be careful." They opened the back of the vehicle. Both officers had to work together to lift the sword. The scabbard struck the metal edge, and Aldric immediately tensed.

"Careful," he said.

"We're doing our best," the bearded officer muttered. Once the weapon had been placed inside, one of the officers opened the rear door.

"Get in." Aldric examined the interior. A metal partition separated the back seats from the front. The doors appeared reinforced. He placed one hand on the roof and climbed inside. His armor scraped against the frame with a harsh screech.

"Your vehicle is rather cramped."

"It wasn't designed for armored knights," the older officer replied. The bearded officer smiled before quickly hiding it. The doors closed, and the vehicle pulled away. Aldric watched the city through the window. Streets rushed past, buildings blurred together, and the three-colored signals continued directing the flow of the machines. In the front, the two officers spoke into a voice coming from a device mounted on the dashboard.

"Subject is cooperative," the older officer reported.

"No identification. Edged weapon secured. Possible confusion or psychiatric disorder." Aldric leaned forward slightly.

"I am not confused."

"Please remain seated."

"I know exactly who I am." The bearded officer looked at him in the rearview mirror.

"Nobody said otherwise."

"Yet you just mentioned confusion."

"It's standard procedure." Aldric settled back into his seat. The institutions of this kingdom relied on many strange conventions. Merchants refused gold, innkeepers demanded cards, and the city guards doubted Asteria even existed. He would have to learn their customs quickly if he hoped to complete his quest. The vehicle stopped in front of a building with a flag flying above its entrance. Blue letters identified it as the police station. Several similar vehicles were parked in the courtyard.

Officers came and went, some carrying files, others escorting civilians. Aldric stepped out. The two officers retrieved his sword and carried it inside. Several other officers turned to watch them pass.

"What is that thing?" a woman asked.

"A replica," the bearded officer answered.

"It is not a replica," Aldric corrected. The woman looked from his armor to the sword.

"Sure it isn't." They escorted him into a room lit by bright white lights. Metal chairs lined one wall. A man was asleep on one of them, his head hanging against his chest. A woman was speaking rapidly to an officer behind a glass partition while a child played with a shoelace at her feet. Aldric was shown into a small room containing a table and three chairs. The walls were bare except for a clock and a camera mounted in one corner. His sword remained outside. The gray-haired officer sat down across from him.

His partner remained standing by the door.

"Let's start over from the beginning," the older officer said.

"My name is Bernard. My partner is Malik." Aldric inclined his head to each of them.

"Aldric of Valdor."

"Yes, we've already got that much." Bernard placed a form on the table.

"What's your occupation?"

"Hero."

"Your real occupation."

"That is my occupation."

"Are you an actor?"

"No."

"A stunt performer?"

"No."

"An entertainer at a theme park?"

"No."

"Do you work in entertainment?"

"No."

"Then what exactly do you mean by 'hero'?" Aldric placed his hands on the table.

"I protect kingdoms from threats they cannot face alone. I eliminate dangerous creatures, defend civilians, and complete the quests assigned to me by the System." Malik folded his arms.

"Maybe it's some kind of live-action role-playing game." Bernard looked up at him.

"A what?" Aldric asked.

"LARP," Malik explained.

"People dress up, go into the woods, and pretend to fight each other with swords."

"Why would they pretend?"

"Because it's fun."

"Fighting without a real enemy has no purpose."

"So that's not it," Malik muttered. Bernard resumed his questioning.

"Do you have an employer?"

"I served King Edrian."

"A phone number?"

"No."

"An email address?"

"No."

"A bank account?"

"No."

"A health insurance card?"

"No."

"A driver's license?"

"No."

"A passport?"

"You've already asked me that." Bernard set down his pen.

"You don't have a single form of recognized identification."

"My royal insignia is recognized in twelve kingdoms."

"Not in France."

"So this land is called France."

"That's right." Aldric committed the name to memory. The System had only told him he was in Paris. It had never mentioned the kingdom the city belonged to.

"Who rules France?" he asked.

"The President of the Republic."

"An elected king?"

"Not exactly."

"A lord without a crown?"

"That's one way to put it." Malik turned his head, unable to hide a faint smile.

"Where is your luggage?" Bernard asked.

"I don't have any."

"Your clothes?"

"The ones I'm wearing."

"Do you have any money?" Aldric took out his coin pouch and placed it on the table. The coins clinked together. Bernard opened it, removed a gold crown, and turned it over between his fingers.

"Is this the same coin you showed the antique dealer?"

"Yes."

"How many do you have?"

"Thirty-seven gold crowns, twelve silver coins, and a handful of copper." Malik stepped closer.

"It looks real."

"It is," Aldric replied. Bernard weighed the coin in his palm.

"You do know you can't use this as currency here?"

"I discovered that."

"You could have it appraised."

"The merchant valued my sword at five hundred euros. I have serious doubts about his judgment."

"Five hundred," Malik repeated.

"For that monster?"

"It is worth more than this entire city." Bernard dropped the coin back into the pouch.

"Let's try not to say things like that too loudly."

"Why?"

"Because people might think you're threatening the city."

"I have no reason to threaten Paris."

"Good." The door opened. A woman walked in carrying a cup of water and set it down in front of Aldric. She was dressed in civilian clothes and carried a folder under one arm.

"I'm Claire," she said.

"I work with the Victim and Vulnerable Persons Support Service." Aldric looked at the folder.

"Am I considered vulnerable?"

"We're simply trying to understand your situation." She sat down beside Bernard.

"Do you know today's date?" Aldric gave the date according to his own world's calendar. Claire wrote something down.

"Do you know where you are?"

"In Paris, in the Kingdom of France."

"Do you know how you got here?"

"The System teleported me after the Demon King's death."

"Have you consumed any alcohol or other substances?"

"I drank a beer several weeks ago."

"Any medication?"

"None."

"Do you hear voices?"

"No."

"Do you see things that other people can't see?" Aldric looked at the System window, still floating at the edge of his vision.

"Yes."

"What do you see?" Claire asked.

"Windows displaying my quests, my status, and my progress." Malik lowered his gaze.

"Right," he muttered.

"The System exists," Aldric said.

"We're not saying it doesn't," Claire replied.

"But you believe otherwise."

"We believe you may need some rest and to see a doctor."

"My injuries do not require a healer."

"I'm talking about a different kind of doctor. » Aldric tightened his grip around the cup. The plastic bent slightly under the pressure. Claire noticed the movement, then her gaze shifted to the cracks in the metal of his armor.

"Do you have any family we can contact?" she asked.

"No."

"Any friends?" The faces of Lyrca, Braum, and Elwen came to mind. He lowered his eyes to the water.

"They're dead."

"All of them?" Claire asked.

"Yes."

"Recently?"

"During the war."

"And since you arrived here, you've been alone?" Claire continued.

"I met a man in a park. Michel. He explained that I needed euros."

"Michel what?"

"I didn't ask for his house name."

"You slept outside with him?"

"Near him."

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"A croissant, a baguette, and half a travel ration."

"Since yesterday?"

"Yes." Malik left the room. A few minutes later, he returned carrying a wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water.

"Here," he said.

"I have no money."

"It's on us."

"I'll repay you."

"Eat first." Aldric unwrapped the sandwich. The bread was softer than the bakery's, but the meat, cheese, and sauce were enough to awaken his hunger. He ate slowly at first, then more quickly. The officers remained silent. Once he had finished eating, Bernard stood up.

"We've checked your name. There's nothing in our records, no missing person reports, and no registered cosplay events in the area."

"Because I am not part of a performance."

"We figured that out."

"Do you believe me?"

"I believe that you believe what you're telling us."

"Those are not the same thing."

"No, they aren't." Aldric pushed the empty sandwich wrapper aside.

"Are you going to imprison me?"

"No. You haven't assaulted anyone, and you've cooperated with us."

"My sword?"

"We'll give it back, but it must stay in its scabbard. Stay away from crowded public places, and under no circumstances are you to draw it."

"Even if I'm attacked?"

"Especially if you're attacked. Call the police." Aldric inclined his head, though he could not imagine how unarmored officers could deal with a dangerous creature more effectively than he could. Claire handed him several sheets of paper.

"These pages contain the addresses of shelters, food distribution centers, and social services. You can show this sheet if you need help." Aldric studied the lines, phone numbers, and street names.

"Do these places offer shelter to travelers?"

"To people who have nowhere else to go."

"Like Michel."

"Yes." He carefully folded the papers and slipped them into a protected pocket beneath his armor.

"Thank you." The officers escorted him back to the front desk. His sword rested on a table beside several bags. Aldric inspected the blade, the Sunstones, and the scabbard before fastening it back onto his belt. Malik opened the door for him. The rain had stopped. The sky remained gray, but pale light filtered through the clouds. Passing vehicles still sprayed water across the roadway.

"Aldric," Bernard called. He turned around. The officer reached into his pocket and pulled out a small round coin. It was made of two different metals, with a gold-colored center surrounded by a silver-colored ring. He held it out.

"To get you started."

"What is it?"

"One euro."

"The legal currency of this kingdom?"

"Part of it, yes." Aldric took the coin between two fingers. It felt light, almost insignificant compared to the gold crowns in his pouch. Yet the System reacted immediately. △ LEGAL CURRENCY ACQUIRED △ 1 EUR Current Funds: 1 EUR Quest Progress: 0. 33%