Chương 49: A Place Here

The Seahorn cutlass went flying out of Joel's hand and stuck into the tall grass behind the Berrygood Lodge. It was the fourth time Al had disarmed him and the third time it'd been done with a counter-riposte. Joel rubbed his sword hand and bit the inside of his lip to hide his frustration.

"I thought I almost had you there," he muttered, trying to not sound too sulky on a sunny morning. The former knight was unstoppable when it came to their training spars. Even with [Shortsword Proficiency], Joel hadn't won a single duel for the past week, the entirety of their stay here. It'd begun to gnaw at his confidence.

"If you'd followed up the last attack with a thrust, instead of backing off, you might've hit me," Al said, still smiling as he plopped down his greatsword and leaned on the emerald pommel. His damp brow was the only flaw on his chiseled features.

"Since you're the one with short range, you can't afford to waste any opportunities to attack. Most experts won't let you cut the distance a second time." He wasn't wrong. Even with his maxed DEFTNESS, Joel had been struggling to break through Al's guard. There was a pragmatic strength about Al but, in truth, the Freewalker was simply a better swordsman, particularly with his trusty claymore. He wielded the weapon like it was second nature.

"We can keep training on the way, right?" Joel eyed the imposing greatsword. Once they set out for the Haefen guild, he'd ask if Al would teach him how to use one. Specifically, Joel wanted to see if he could learn a skill or proficiency naturally, without the use of EXP. It wasn't because of a lack of available points — 2, 158 EXP was plenty. It was because he wanted to be sure that he could learn. He knew that training boosted his ability scores, which was something he'd discovered a while back.

It was reaffirmed by the early morning runs and workouts with Al. The brutal exercising had improved his MIGHT, albeit at a snail's pace. It ticked up for two measly points in the last week. He'd been pushing himself harder recently to see if his amplified efforts would be more quickly rewarded. Instead, his empty notification screen silently mocked him.

"If we have the time, it shouldn't be an issue," Al said, pulling his sword to lean it against his shoulder.

"Seems like your blood has been running hot since the warehouse." The young man smiled wryly.

"I can't say I blame you with what you saw but don't overdo it. We need you to reach Haefen in one piece."

"I want to make sure that I am prepared for the Freewalker stuff." Joel went to pick up his cutlass. He flourished the blade to make himself feel less sullen about being disarmed.

"And I told you that you outstrip the bulk of Tier 4s in terms of ability. There's no need to rush."

"Except you're Tier 4 and you've been beating my ass for the last week," Joel said sharply. It made him sound so petty, but there were limits to being a good loser. Not to mention, he had a suspicion that Al was holding somewhat back. Al paused.

"My case is a little different from the Tier 4s." He spotted Joel's raised eyebrow.

"I'll explain when we get to the guild. It's… complicated."

"Hey, Gorum said the food's ready!" Alis yelled from the lodge's back door, clearly already chewing her breakfast. She'd been warmed up and won over Gorum almost instantly. The old half-orc had been happily spending the days feeding her like she was his long lost granddaughter.

"Let's call it for today. We'll need to spare energy for the road." Al sheathed his sword, heading back.

"It might be a while before we get another proper meal too."

"I'll catch up with you in a moment. Save me a plate please."

"I'll try. No promises." Al grinned before heading off. Joel wiped the dirt off of his sleeves' elbows before walking over to the ash tree. The looming branches shook against the cool morning breeze, leaves rippling like verdant smoke. He entered its shade, walking to where he had placed flowers for Prum, those many weeks ago. Noticing the flowers gone, he knelt, grabbed, and bundled a handful of nearby lilacs together. The bouquet was a makeshift assembly but it would do.

"Hope you're having better luck wherever you are than I am," Joel said, placing them at the sprawling tree's base. He had to have been losing it, wishing a long lost game NPC good luck. It felt both foolish and not foolish — he couldn't explain it otherwise. He could recall the old orc's welcoming face, thanks to the countless hours he'd spent playing First Fantasy. How come he could remember Prum's face, but not his own family's? All their faces were becoming more blurred like an ice sculpture melting in the sun.

In some twisted way, being able to remember the old orc reassured him. His memory reminded Joel that there was a time before, that there was a family that loved him, that there was a life he was living. It made clinging to Prum's memory easy.

"Well, if there's anyone out there…" he said softly skyward before pausing. He wanted to do a prayer or something similar, but he'd never grown up particularly religious. It would've been useful if Siv was around to ask, but the half-elf was likely still at his own morning prayers. He'd remembered something mumbled about a 'lady', so he decided that was a solid starting spot.

"Uh, Lady, I hope you're taking care of Prum in heaven, or the afterlife, or whatever. He's a good guy." Joel put his hand on the trunk of the tree, toasty from baking under the hot sun.

"Tell him that I'll do my best for Gorum." He thought about how he should've visited his own family more regularly. It felt so dumb to have complained about the train trip home before.

"So yeah. Once I join the guild, I'll stop by here whenever I can. So Lady, if you exist, tell him not to worry about his family, eh?" The whoosh of the branches was his only response. He shrugged.

"I'll take that as a yes." Taking his cutlass out, he chipped off a few pieces of the tree's warm bark before pocketing it. They were nothing more than small souvenirs, tokens that would serve as a reminder to visit Gorum. A fleeting connection to home. Sheathing his sword, he gave the tree a sentimental pat and looked up its stretching branches. To his surprise, he spotted a wide-eyed owl staring at him.

The perched bird tilted its head side to side and, in combination with its big and yellow eyes, gave a very curious expression.

"Hey," Joel said, waving at the bird.

"Can you watch out for this tree, buddy?" The owl continued to gaze at him until, after some time, hooting once. Joel shook his head at himself.

"Now I know I'm fucking losing it. Talking to owls and shit." Deciding to stop embarrassing himself, he turned to head into the lodge. The common area of the lodge was not particularly busy. Only two other travellers, merchants by their dress, sat at a table at the room's far side. Al was already speaking to them, asking about the conditions of the road. Meanwhile, Alis was at the bar counter, spreading berry jam on white toast.

She moved side to side happily as Gorum was already reloading her plate with a slice of meat pie. Catching sight of Joel at the kitchen door, the elderly half-orc waved him in.

"I saved ya an extra slice, lad," he said happily, placing two pieces of the pie on a plate.

"It's so good," Alis said mid-munch. She held a forkful of pie in one hand and the jellied toast in the other, alternating between bites of both.

"You have to try it." Joel didn't need much prodding, already digging into the buttery crust.

"Siv's still not down?"

"No, he's still finishing his prayers."

"Is everything okay? I noticed his prayers have been going longer." He saw her stop chewing.

"Sorry if it's out of place for me to ask."

"It's no worry. Siv tends to pray a bit longer if he thinks we made it out of a rough patch. Being thankful and all." Joel thought back to the bronze spike that went through Siv's eye.

"He's the only one who got badly hurt though."

"He doesn't view it that way," she replied matter-of-factly.

"He probably thinks that it's a blessing that he only lost his eye because it could've been worse. It's the same thing after every particularly brutal job." She beamed a smile at Gorum as he filled her plate with more buttered toast, which she quickly took a couple bites from before continuing.

"Once we're on the road, he'll be back to normal soon, and won't be missing as many breakfasts." This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. He nodded back between his own bites of the gravied pie. The savory food made him realize how much he would miss the lodge. Along with the others, he'd been helping Gorum during their stay, and the routine of the roadside inn had a cozy allure.

Perhaps more so for Joel, but he didn't let the temptation of staying here enchant him. He'd meant what he'd told Al back at the warehouse — he'd be a Freewalker. That'd been made abundantly clear back at Wardenhal to Ysobelle and Galagrin, both who'd visited him with another veiled recruitment pitch. His third offer came from Lord Valgruv himself.

After the whole scuffle with the slaving gang and the Dominion's Executors, the baron went on a warpath, sending his men to scour the town for any remnants of the operation. Joel had been extra polite when declining to join the baron's guard. He imagined that he looked like a true idealist to everyone, or maybe a little bloodthirsty. There'd been some rumors floating around about how he'd looked after fighting the yeti, how he fought like a deranged animal.

Some of the castle's servants had even seemed a little frightened of him. It had served as motivation for him to leave Wardenhal once he and Gorum were well enough to do so. In truth, becoming a Freewalker was a practical decision. Though he'd been getting into plenty of fights over the previous weeks, he knew such encounters would be rare within town or at the lodge. Peaceful as that was, it wouldn't be doing him any favors. He glanced at the [Status] screen.

— Name: Joel Early Class: Classless Level: 1 HP: 100% MP: 100% MIGHT: 754 DEFTNESS: 1000 VITALITY: 100 FOCUS: 600 SPIRIT: 140 RESOLVE: 205 Anomaly: 2 — Even with DEFTNESS and VITALITY taken to their limit, it wasn't nearly enough. The fight with the sagani, the Executor, and the damned spars with Al had all taught him as much. He had to become stronger and he knew what that meant. More EXP. Unfortunately, there was only one way he was aware of getting EXP — that was via killing. He hid his grimace at the thought.

Something he'd considered so ordinary in the game, something he'd done a thousand times without batting an eye, all felt so vulgar. It'd have to be a feeling he had to quickly come to terms with. If he wanted to reach the final level, twenty or whatever level it might've changed to, he was going to have to do a lot of killing. So rather than killing people in war with Galagrin's Longthorns or doing whatever it was that Ysobelle's people did, Joel decided that fighting monsters was the most conscionable method.

From what he could glean from the others, not every Freewalker mission meant contending with some brutish beast, but combat was almost always expected. To Joel, being a Freewalker would solve more than a few of his immediate problems.

"You not going to eat that?" asked Alis, her eyes glued onto his other slice of pie. Joel shielded his plate from her.

"It's mine. You aren't even done chewing yours!"

"Sharing is caring," she retorted, aiming to nab a scoop with her fork. With practiced precision, thanks to Al, Joel immediately blocked her fork with his own. She scoffed.

"Bah. At least you're learning something in the mornings." Giving up on stealing Joel's food, she gave her stomach a content pat.

"I suppose I'm full enough. Thanks for the meal, Gorum." The half-orc smiled widely at that, his small tusks showing, as he stacked her empty plates.

"Glad ya enjoyed it. Always happy to see someone who knows how to enjoy their food." On that note, Joel took another big bite of the meat pie as he heard the nearby staircase creak. Dressed in his usual form-fitting robes, Siv came down the steps, looking more refreshed than any of them despite having been praying for hours. He'd replaced the rudimentary bandana with a proper eye-patch. It was a simple leather patch, a dark black that complemented his auburn hair.

The outfit gave Siv the appearance of a priest who had decided to become a fancy pirate.

"Ya want a plate?" Gorum said, already taking a clean one to fill with food. Siv shook his head.

"I'll take something for the road though, if you have anything spare."

"Plenty. I'll add some to your packed rations. I can't have you starving all the way to Haefen." The half-orc marched off into the kitchen with a mission.

"How was training?" Siv said, plopping himself down next to Joel on the counter. He poured himself a cup of water and gulped away like he'd been the one working out in the sun.

"I never particularly enjoyed the morning sessions."

"But you're up the earliest," Joel said, finishing the last bite off his plate.

"That's a skill I learned to endure later on. I used to dread early morning training." Siv played with the necklace of his silver amulet.

"I never took to it like Al." He glanced up and down at Joel, noting the grass stains on his clothes.

"Wasn't fond of every day starting with a thrashing in the practice area." When he put it like that, Joel could see how prayer might be a more pleasant experience.

"Al's really good. I don't think I've hit him clean once."

"You'll get used to that," Alis said, layering another spread of strawberry jelly on toast.

"Him and Tarchon were using swords since they could walk. They had the best tutors for everything from jousting to swordscraft to etiquette."

"So I'll never get a hit in," Joel said glumly. He realized that he might regret asking Al to train on the road. Alis gave a chuckle with her mouth full.

"Al's generous. He might let you get your licks in once in a blue moon."

"Don't listen to her," Siv said.

"Al's not invincible. Keep working at it and you'll get better. Eventually I managed to, even if I quickly realized that all that training wasn't really for me."

"You didn't want to become a knight?" Joel asked before noticing a small scowl from Alis. Siv smiled and clasped his amulet.

"No, I never truly did. But, in truth, I wouldn't have been able to. A squire, yes. A knight? Only humans are allowed to be knights, even here in Lorent."

"You've got a better shot at becoming a knight," Alis said coldly. She caught the apologetic look on Joel's face.

"It's not your fault."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up." Siv gave Joel's shoulder a friendly pat.

"Don't fret. If anything, it's a blessing. I found my path in the end." Alis grunted, grumbling something under her breath.

"What are all of you moping about?" Al asked, crashing into Siv and Joel as he placed his arms over their shoulders. He gave Joel a shake that almost made the food fall off his fork.

"You don't need to be worried about the guild. Like you asked, we'll train on the road."

"Hey, you said you wanted to learn magic!" Alis frowned at Joel. Shit. He'd totally forgotten about that and Wirbald's gift — the single sheet of vellum that contained his scribbled ciphers.

"I can do both," Joel said with as much confidence as he could muster.

"How hard can it all be?" The trio shared bemused looks with one another. Al gave him another hearty clap on the back.

"Hey, that's the bearing a rookie needs." Gorum came through the kitchen door, hidden behind the sheer pile of ration packs he was carrying. Hurrying around the bar counter, Joel helped to take some of the packs off the half-orc's hands. It was obviously much more than they would require for the trip, but Joel didn't protest. Good food was good food.

"I put in some extra wheels of spiced cheese in each," Gorum said while handing out the rest.

"All ya'll make sure that ya eat those ones first, ya hear? Else it'll spoil quickly." The words almost made Joel hungry again.

"Oh, it'll be gone in a day or two." He looked over to the others to find Alis already opening one and nibbling some cheese.

"Is that peppercorn, Gorum? Delightfully scrumptious." Alis took a healthy bite of the wheel. Her dimpled smile as she ate made Gorum beam. Giving a thankful nod to the half-orc, Al took a majority of the ration packs.

"I'll saddle the horses and get these loaded." Alis, still chewing cheese, and Siv, who gave a humble bow to Gorum, followed him out. After they'd left, Gorum went around to Joel.

"Ya be safe, lad. These are better folk than the ones you left with last time." The half-orc looked regretful, his wrinkled features creasing further.

"I can't say sorry enough." Surprising himself, Joel leaped into an embrace, tightly hugging the half-orc.

"You'll never have to apologize to me, old man." The hug was returned and, for the briefest second, Joel was home. With a final squeeze, he broke the embrace and rummaged through his pocket, pulling out a coin purse. It was more than half of his share of the silver. Gorum was already shaking his head.

"No, no need for that. Your friends made sure to pay for food and lodgings." Joel wasn't leaving with the silver.

"As they should've. This is just extra. If anything comes up, use it. Maybe hire someone in town. I know you'll miss my help around here." He pressed the pouch into Gorum's burly hands.

"Take it for me, will you?" After some more hemming and hawing, Gorum eventually accepted the gift.

"Suppose I could fix up some of the upstairs rooms. Maybe get your room a proper bed."

"I'll visit as soon as I can. I promise." Joel meant that. He heard the whinny of the horses being saddled outside. Giving Gorum one last good-bye hug, he turned to head for the front door. Joel paused at the door. For a moment, he felt the urge to stay and be happy in the comfort of the lodge. It would be an easy and simple life.

"Ya'll always have a place here, lad." Joel turned to give Gorum a grateful nod, then he left the Berrygood Lodge.