Chapter 21: Chapter 21: The Sleeping Lion's Path
Chapter 21: The Sleeping Lion's Path
"Welcome, hero," the king said, his voice echoing through the ornate chamber. His corpulent form sat heavily upon the gilded throne, his fingers adorned with rings that glinted in the fractured sunlight streaming through stained-glass windows. "You've been summoned by the goddess herself to save this world from the Demon King's wrath."
This time, I kept my composure. Recklessness would only hasten my end, and I couldn't afford to die, not yet.
The king raised a hand in a grandiose gesture, his robes straining against his bulk. "Now go out, become strong, defeat the Demon King, and liberate our world," he commanded, his voice heavy with self-importance and a practiced authority.
Before I could respond, two armored guards flanked me, and the commander from before approached, his gait purposeful. His piercing eyes met mine, his expression unreadable beneath the sharp angles of his helmet.
"Don't do anything stupid," he said, his gravelly voice carrying an edge of warning. "I can see it in your eyes."
He shoved a finely crafted steel sword into my hands, leaning in close. His voice dropped to a low rumble. "You've got the eyes of a killer."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but I bit back a retort. Why hadn't he stopped me before when I'd killed the king the first time? My eyes must've carried the same intent then. His recognition of my nature unnerved me, though I couldn't tell if it was a warning, a taunt, or something else entirely.
Outside the castle gates, the capital sprawled before me. I descended a massive stone staircase, each step precise, the weight of the sword at my hip swinging in rhythm with my stride. The city buzzed with life, a stark contrast to the world I had left behind.
Horse-drawn carriages rattled along cobbled streets, their drivers calling out to pedestrians. Vendors hawked wares from colorful stalls, their voices mingling with the laughter of children and the chatter of townsfolk. The scent of baked goods, sweat, and animal musk filled the air, a strange cocktail of vitality and industry.
It struck me as absurd. For a kingdom supposedly on the brink of annihilation by the Demon King, the people seemed blissfully unaware, or willfully ignorant, of their impending doom. Was this the strength of their faith, or the blindness of their privilege?
I walked among them, observing the unfamiliar energy of a peaceful city. The weight of countless battles hung heavy on me, a stark contrast to the lightness of this place. Memories of blood-soaked fields and screams of the dying crept into my thoughts. Was I ever like these people? Had I once lived a life untouched by war?
But if I had, that version of me was long gone. Survival had come at a cost, a piece of my soul lost with every swing of my blade. For a fleeting moment, I envied their naivety.
My musings were interrupted when I spotted a guard in white steel armor, his sword resting against his hip. His attire resembled that of the palace guards, though it was simpler, more worn. He seemed like a good source of information.
"Do you know where I can earn money?" I asked, keeping my tone as friendly as I could manage.
The man stared at me, his brows furrowing before he broke into a polite smile. "You must be new here," he said, his eyes scanning me up and down. "Well, for someone built like you, I'd recommend heading to the guild."
"The guild?" I asked, unfamiliar with the term.
He nodded and gestured down a bustling street. "Just follow that road until you see a sign that says Sleeping Lion. It's the guildhall. You can register there."
I thanked him and made my way down the indicated path.
The sign swayed gently in the breeze, its golden letters glinting in the sunlight: Sleeping Lion. Pushing open the sturdy wooden doors, I stepped into a lively hall.
The room was vast, with long tables arranged haphazardly. Adventurers of all shapes and sizes sat together, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Mugs of ale clinked, despite the sun still shining outside.
Behind a polished desk at the far end of the room stood a woman. Her dark red blouse and white undershirt were crisp and clean, and her warm smile exuded a welcoming professionalism. Behind her, shelves were lined with barrels and bottles of colorful liquids.
As I approached, I could feel eyes on me, curious, scrutinizing. The woman greeted me cheerfully.
"Welcome to the Sleeping Lion! How can I help you?"
"I heard I could register with the guild here," I said, keeping my tone light.
She chuckled softly. "You must mean the guild, right?" she teased. Her tone was playful, her demeanor relaxing.
"Yes," I replied, attempting a faint smile.
"Well, you'll want to head through that door," she said, gesturing to her left.
The smaller hall beyond was quieter, though still bustling with activity. A second desk was manned by another woman, her darker complexion complementing her sharp features.
"Do you wish to turn in a quest or register, sir?" she asked, her voice polished and formal.
"Register."
She nodded and gestured to a bench along the wall. "Please wait while I prepare the necessary documents."
I sat down, acutely aware of the large man beside me. His broad shoulders and scarred face gave him an air of menace. His eyes bore into me, his expression unreadable but intense.
"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral.
He didn't answer, his gaze only hardening.
Before the tension could escalate, the clerk's voice called out. "It's ready!"
The room she led me to was small and dimly lit. At its center stood an altar with a crystal orb resting on it. The orb shimmered faintly, its light shifting like trapped smoke.
"Place your hands on the orb and imbue it with your mana," the woman instructed.
Mana? I had no idea what she meant, but I mimicked confidence. Approaching the altar, I pressed my palms against the cool surface of the orb.
A strange sensation coursed through me, like an invisible thread pulling at my core. The orb pulsed with a crimson glow, the light growing stronger as I concentrated.
What is this?
The light intensified, and a sharp jolt of energy left me breathless. My instincts screamed that something was changing, something profound.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Verrinen
Verrinen If you’re enjoying this story, you might also like my other work, The Crypted Legacy! The first chapter is out now, check it out!
Chapter 22: Chapter 22: The Adventurer's Mark
Chapter 22: The Adventurer's Mark
The bright crimson glow from the orb began to subside, its intensity dimming to a faint shimmer. The woman stepped forward, her movements deliberate and graceful, and pressed a piece of parchment against the orb. Closing her eyes, she channeled a burst of light from her palm, illuminating the room momentarily.
"Here are your results," she said, handing me the parchment.
I glanced at it:
[Adventurer: _______]
[Level: 1]
[Magical Power: <100]
[Physical Power: 29,100]
[Estimated Rank: C-Rank]
"Is it... good?" I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty. The weight of what this might mean, both for my future and my past, hung in the air.
She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable, before offering a tight-lipped smile. "Well," she began carefully, "your physical abilities are impressive, far above average for someone just starting out. But your magical aptitude... it's exceptionally low. And," she paused, her brow furrowing, "how are you still level one? That's unusual for someone with such strength."
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could form an excuse, she pressed on, her tone shifting to something between curiosity and skepticism. "Unless... you're one of those pacifists?"
Her probing gaze made my pulse quicken. I couldn't afford to draw attention to myself, not yet. I nodded slowly. "Yes... that's right. I've always avoided conflict."
Her eyebrows rose, and for a moment, it seemed she might challenge my claim. But then she exhaled softly, her features relaxing. "Well, if that's your belief, it'll make adventuring more challenging for you."
"I'm a changed man now," I said firmly, forcing confidence into my voice, despite the uncertainty eating at me from within.
Her eyes lingered on me, as though weighing the truth of my words, but after a beat, she gave a small nod. "Alright," she said, though a flicker of doubt remained in her expression. She retrieved a small metal token from a nearby box and handed it to me.
The token felt cool and heavy in my palm, etched with the letters "C-Rank." My gaze lingered on it, its significance elusive. Was this the beginning of my new life as an adventurer? Or just another empty token? How would this help me earn money in a world that was so different from the one I remembered?
The woman interrupted my thoughts. "Now that you're officially registered as an adventurer, we just need to finalize your details. You'll need a name for the records."
Her words sent a jolt of panic through me. My name? What was my name? The harder I tried to recall it, the more elusive it became, like trying to catch smoke with my bare hands. Was it lost to me completely? Had it ever really been mine?
She must have noticed my hesitation because she spoke again, her tone gentle. "If you'd like, you can use an alias instead. It's quite common among adventurers."
An alias... What could I choose? My thoughts churned, but nothing solidified. I couldn't afford to linger too long. My hesitation must have been obvious because she smiled, offering a suggestion. "How about 'The Crimson Swordsman'? It suits you, your crimson eyes and the sword at your side."
The name resonated with me in a way I couldn't explain. It felt like a mask I could wear, one that would shield me from the uncertainty of my identity. "Alright," I agreed, though it felt strange to take on a title that wasn't truly mine.
She handed me a quill and gestured to the parchment on the desk. "Just write your chosen name here, and you're all set."
I scrawled the alias as best I could. My handwriting was crude, nearly illegible, but she didn't comment on it.
"Congratulations," she said, her professional smile returning. "You can now select missions from the quest board in the main hall. You're limited to quests at your rank or lower."
I nodded my thanks and left the room, heading toward the bustling main hall.
"Did everything go smoothly?" the elf-like receptionist at the front desk asked, her polite smile unwavering.
"Yes, thank you," I replied quickly, my mind still reeling from the earlier exchange. "Where's the quest board?"
She gestured to her right. "You'll find it there, against the far wall."
I approached the large wooden board, its surface plastered with parchment. Each page bore details of available missions, ranging from mundane tasks to perilous undertakings. My eyes scanned the options:
[Escort Merchandise]
[Details: Serve as bodyguards for a merchant for five days, transporting goods to Khazadron.]
[Reward: 20 shillings per day.]
[Required Rank: C-B.]
The reward seemed decent, but a five-day commitment felt impractical. My gaze moved to another page:
[Retrieve Body]
[Details: Search for and retrieve the body of Alaric Ashbourne. For further details, report to the Ashbourne estate.]
[Reward: To be discussed at the estate.]
[Required Rank: C-A.]
Something about this mission called to me, an undercurrent of urgency, a hint of mystery. Without overthinking, I pulled the paper from the board and returned to the desk.
"Where can I find the Ashbourne estate?" I asked.
The receptionist chuckled softly, her amusement evident. "You really aren't from around here, are you?" Her smile remained warm as she explained, "Follow the main road to the inner gate, then take the left path. The estate is hard to miss, a grand manor at the end of the road."
I nodded, pocketing the paper. "Thank you."
"Good luck," she said, her tone sincere.
With the directions clear in my mind, I stepped out into the sunlit streets. The path ahead felt uncertain, but as the city buzzed around me, I realized something: for the first time since I woke in this world, I felt like I had a purpose, like I was finally moving toward something, something beyond just surviving.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Verrinen
Verrinen
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