Bog Standard Isekai

It took a surprisingly long time for Hedrek to get back up the hill. That single use of [Knights Charge] had completely exhausted him to the point that he’d barely been able to stand in his armor, much less climb a steep slope.

Cid told Govannon, “Go tell Hedrek I’ve decided to rest here for a bit. He can rejoin us when we’re ready to depart.”

Brin got the feeling that he didn’t want anyone to see how exhausted the senior [Knight] was, and the unsaid was the fact that Hedrek wouldn’t return until he was recovered enough to fake it. Meanwhile, they waited.

Brin used that time to collect all the glass he’d expended in the fight. It was satisfying to see just how much glass he’d been able to summon for the fight, but he couldn’t leave it there. People around here tended to just throw their trash on the ground wherever they happened to be standing, but Brin was not a litter bug. Besides, it was dangerous. The knights with metal shoes would be fine, but Brin bet his glass could cut through the leather of a normal shoe.

He quickly created a little tool made of glass, a footlong cylinder that pulsed softly with red light, and assigned a status to it, “Glass Collector.”

He waved it around and then used the dregs of his Mana to pull all the broken pieces of glass together into a big pile. The biggest pieces were easy to find, but there were hundreds of tiny little shards everywhere, so he found himself going back and forth several times over every inch of ground.

When he was finally satisfied that he’d gotten it all, Hedrek still wasn’t back. Brin eyed the oblong mound of glass he’d pushed together. He’d softened all the edges so that it wouldn’t hurt anyone, but it was still ugly.

He waved his Glass Collector, and pushed more Mana into [Shape Glass] to straighten the glass up and give it a shape. He formed a figure–himself. Since he wasn’t imprinting a Mirror Image onto the glass he had to mold it himself so it didn’t look perfect, but since his armor was different than anyone else’s he could make it clear it was himself by the general shape of the helmet and coat.

He made a glass Brin standing with one foot on top of a defeated glass Hedrek, with both arms in the air.

Cid sighed and shook his head at Brin, but didn’t tell him to stop so he kept working on the sculpture until Hedrek finally returned.

“Ha!” Hedrek laughed when he saw the sculpture. “That’s not bad! Well, I have to say, I didn’t know what to expect from a [Glass Invocationist], but it definitely wasn’t that.”

He spoke casually and moved smoothly, but Brin thought he could tell by the perspiration on his forehead and the glint in his eyes that both were a front. He was still tired and he didn’t want anyone to know it. He was still angry, too, but didn’t want to look like a sore loser.

“Thanks,” Brin said cautiously. “I did know what to expect, and you didn’t disappoint. It felt like trying to fight a mountain.”

“Is that how you beat a mountain? By flinging it down another mountain? You know, I figured you for a [Mage] Class, but you’ve got the attributes of a physical Classer. Is all that from carrying around boulders?”

Brin knew that no one actually expected him to give details about his status even if he was inclined to share, but he could say a little. This part wasn’t actually a secret. He shrugged. “A lot of it’s from that. Some of it’s from a war, and a lot of it is for some weird stuff I got up to before System day.”

“Oh! I bet you got [Monster Hunter]!” said Hedrek. “I did, too.”

“So did I,” said Brych the [Rogue]. “But [Monster Sense] didn’t help me spot your pet.”

“Marksi isn’t a monster or a pet!” said Brin. The little dragon scampered up and down Brin’s statue, looking very impressed. At the sound of his name, he stopped and puffed out his chest, and then pointed at it with a claw.

“No way,” said Brin.

Marksi slumped.

“No! People will make statues of you defeating [Knights] when you can actually defeat a [Knight]. I don’t want to give anyone weird ideas before then.”

Cid cleared his throat. “If that’s all, I believe it’s time to make our descent.”

“Line up!” Brin barked.

When the men began to do so, Brin called out. “Wait! Where are you going?”

They stopped, confused.

“Don’t tell me you were going to leave your treasures behind. I know you Prinnashian’s are rich, but that doesn’t mean you must be wasteful! Go! Pick them up!”

Everyone waited, maybe hoping that Cid would say something different, but when their leader just watched the horizon without saying anything, they reluctantly moved back and grabbed the kettlebells he’d made for them.

Brin didn’t have a ton of Mana left, but he used every iota that his regeneration gave him on pushing down on the glass one he’d given Cowl the [Porter].

“Now, let’s make it interesting!” said Brin. “Like this!”

He demonstrated keeping the kettlebell on his back, and did a lunging walk, bending his knee nearly all the way to the ground with every step. They groaned and followed suit. Brin started calling out “Left” and “Right” on each step, making sure to go nice and slow so that they’d be able to lunge all the way down.

Cid looked amused and took up his place in the front, doing the exercise along with Brin. Hedrek followed as well, and in his exhausted state, it looked like Brin was finally giving him a workout. The rest of the men looked utterly miserable. They’d been tired out just running here, so doing weighted lunges on the way back would be especially brutal.

Well, that’s how you got strong. If they had trouble keeping up, they should just think back to that time they’d been tortured by a psychotic stuffed bunny, powerless to do anything but play along. Or maybe it was just Brin who did that. How did people without traumatic memories motivate themselves at the gym?

Brin used an Invisible Eye to look behind him, and whenever anyone did a step without lunging he called back, “Just remember, the first person to get tired will be carried back down the mountain.”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

He got so involved in tormenting his fellow Lancemates that he lost track time and didn’t notice how long it had been until his legs started to burn from the lunges. If he was getting tired with his stats, then the other guys were probably near death. He allowed himself to be impressed that they’d all kept up this long.

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“You know what? I’m getting a bit tired,” said Brin.

“Let’s take a rest,” Cid said quickly, as if it had been at the tip of his tongue for some time now. He probably wasn’t any more tired than Brin was and was getting worried about the men.

They all groaned with relief and sank to the ground. Cowl looked just as exhausted as any of them, but after only a minute or two the [Porter] stood again and started distributing canteens of water. When the men lifted their faceplates to drink, they revealed flushed faces and streams of sweat. Hedrek looked especially bad, pale rather than flushed, and his hands trembled so badly that he spilled water as he tried to drink. [Knights Charge] must really take it out of him.

Brin decided he might have to scale back a bit in the future; there was such a thing as over-training. But would that really be an issue here? Vitality should help with recovery time.

Cid didn’t stand again for nearly an hour, and when he did he said to Brin, “Maybe we can return at a more leisurely pace?”

“Yes sir,” said Brin. “Alright, get up everyone.”

Brin was gratified to see that everyone picked up their kettlebells without needing to be asked. Everyone started walking when Cid did, but Brin stayed in place.

He held his arms out wide. “Well? I said I was tired, didn’t I? Aren’t you going to carry me?”

Hedrek shoulder-checked Brin as he went by, and Brin allowed himself to be pushed. He laughed, and the men muttered angrily as they passed him. He trotted up and took his place next to Cid.

There wasn’t much conversation on the way back, Brin figured everyone was just glad he was done torturing them. He still wasn’t sure if he was doing this right, but he had to admit that today had been a little bit fun. Playing drill master wasn’t too bad, and he’d gotten to see what a [Knight] could do.

He now had a counterpoint to what he remembered from seeing Galan fight the undead army back then. Galan was clearly stronger than Hedrek, and he probably had the next level in [Path of the Blade], since Brin only remembered expert control from Galan with none of the berserker wildness that Hedrek had displayed. He’d also never seen Galan use [Knight’s Charge], which made sense. Galan had been conserving his strength back then. But how did that square with the Order of the Long Sleep’s vaunted [Inexhaustible]? It sounded like the Skill should shore up the inherent weakness in [Knight’s Charge], namely that you could only use it once and then you were basically out of the fight. But if Galan was really inexhaustible, then he should’ve been charging around all over the place.

He’d figure it out soon enough; he was in the Order now. He was more interested to see what Skill Galan had evolved and what he could do now.

Brin also thought through what he could do better the next time he faced a [Knight]. In hand-to-hand combat he figured he was good enough to keep up with their [Path of the Blade], but that didn’t mean anything if he could find a way through their armor. Were they really just magic-proof? If that was possible, then why didn’t everyone have it? One reason was money; Value Sense told Brin that Hedrek’s armor cost in the order of two thousand gold.

But even without the armor, [Knight’s Charge] was a problem. Brin had narrowly avoided being trampled by a last minute glass decoy. He couldn’t always depend on that, but he didn’t see any other way around it. It was too fast to dodge; much faster than Zilly’s [Dash]. The only other option was blocking it, but the System called it “nigh unstoppable” and the System didn’t exaggerate.

He hadn’t actually felt Death Sense during the fight, but he’d definitely felt the instinctual animal fear of someone in the way of a boulder rolling downhill. He had the feeling that the only reason he wouldn’t have died from the charge was because Hedrek wasn’t actually going for the kill.

As they got closer to the castle, Brin’s Invisible Eyes started to pick up a smattering of murmured conversations. Most of it was complaining about how much their feet hurt, but he also found out that every single one of them had picked up at least one attribute point. All of them got a Vitality, but the [Porter] and the [Hunter] also got a Strength. Brin probably wasn’t their favorite person right now, but the stats would go a long way in proving he knew what he was doing.

When they arrived back at the castle, Brin followed the group to the barracks where they would be staying. As he’d feared, they’d all be sleeping in the same room. It was oddly nice and spacious for a bunkroom, though. The bunk beds were wide as his bed in Hogg’s house, and tidily made with nice fluffy quilts. Everyone had a lockbox for their personal effects, and Brin’s things had already been taken from his other room and stored here.

Maybe most surprising were the servants. Livery-clad servants stood in a row, both men and women, and apparently there was one for each of them. When Brin found his own bed and his chest of belongings to the side, there was a servant waiting for him, too.

“Sir, please allow me to assist you with your armor,” said the servant. He was a level 20 [Hearthtender], but Brin figured that if you worked for an Order of [Knights] then you probably did a bit of everything.

“Um…” Brin reflexively wanted to refuse anyone who wanted to help him do something as menial as undressing, but he stopped himself. He actually did want to see how they did this.

The man noticed his hesitation and said, “Please, sir. It’ll be quick.”

“No, no. It’s fine. Take your time and show me how to do it right. It’s my first time wearing this kind of armor,” said Brin.

“As you say, sir.”

Brin noticed that the servants were as much of a surprise to the other guys as they were to him. Govannon especially seemed embarrassed as his servant was a woman, and he blushed while studiously looking anywhere but at her.

Cid and Hedrek both had bed and trunks in the room, but they didn’t stay. A surreptitious Invisible Eye informed Brin that they both had other rooms as well, and that they’d be changing and sleeping in there. Apparently the rooms were for their status as nobility and not for their rank, because Brin wasn’t offered one.

The servant worked with practiced efficiency, undoing clasps and pulling off the pieces one by one. Brin made sure to watch every step, even going so far as to use an Invisible Eye when the man was behind him. Seeing how a professional did this would help Brin’s “Iron Man” program.

He had an easier time of it, since his armor was a bit lighter. For the guys who’d chosen a solid cuirass or a chain coat, they had to bend over and let the servant pull it off. It wasn’t an easy or an elegant process, but everyone acted like they were used to it. They must’ve all helped each other suit up before they’d had servants for this.

When they were finished, the servant bundled up Brin’s armor and delica coat in a large sack and said, “This will be laundered and returned before you are finished with supper.”

So that’s what they were doing. Well, that was good, because Brin was starving. He always seemed to be hungry lately. Hopefully that was a sign that Hogg’s Potion of Time’s Remission was finally kicking, because so far there was no sign it was doing anything.

“Does my lord plan to wear a dinner jacket or an overcoat to supper?” the servant asked.

“You should ask your lord.”

Brin was certain that the servant had done that on purpose. Lumina had warned him that they’d make little “mistakes” like that at first, in order to give him a chance to correct them and establish the master-servant relationship.

“As you say, sir.”

Brin said, “But if you’re asking about me, I’d normally be fine with a dinner jacket, but I’ll need the overcoat if I’m going outside. Which seems to be everywhere in this place.”

“If I might make a suggestion?”

“You may.”

“The weather is warm enough that a dinner jacket should be considered adequate. I’ve taken the liberty of adding a selection to your effects.”

“Thank you,” said Brin.

“My pleasure, sir. I might also call your attention to the wash basin set out for you, should you decide to bathe before supper. Then by your leave?”

The servants had set out a bowl full of warm water, soap, and a washcloth for each of them. Despite how Brin had gotten used to full baths and showers living with Hogg, to most people in this world, bathing meant this kind of thing.

Thankfully, the servants bundled up the armor and left, so Brin only had to strip down with eight random dudes instead of twenty people including women. He kept his eyes to himself, and washed off quickly; he really had begun to reek even with that light amount of exercise.

Someone had set out a fresh set of clothing on his trunk, so Brin dressed quickly. He was ready in minutes, but he didn’t think it would be appropriate to head out on his own, so he waited for the rest of the men to get ready so they could walk together in a group.

Some of them were absurdly slow, and Brin’s stomach rumbled as he waited, irritation growing. Getting dressed was something everyone had to do every day! How could some of these guys be so bad at it!

When everyone was finally ready, Brin’s patience was nearly at an end, but he forced himself to stay in the middle of the group instead of running on ahead. They walked down the hall, and just as Brin started to smell the warm bread and roasted meat, he saw Cid waiting for him in the hallway.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you! I only need a word with my Second. The rest of you go on ahead,” said Cid.

Cid waited with folded arms until the men were all in the mess, and then said, “I think we should take an opportunity to straighten a few things out.”

Brin looked with longing towards the door to the mess. Couldn’t they talk in there? No, probably not. His stomach could wait. “Yes. I think we should.”