Kieran let out a satisfied sigh as he sat down on one of the many covered benches along the King’s Promenade. He had just completed the first set of dissections since his arrival in Lyruna. Despite a few disappointments, he was happier than he could remember being in a long, long time.
True, the procedures had been a bit clumsy. Last Breath was a poor substitute for proper tools. But he had worked slowly and taken extra care not to ruin the internal organs, and the results had been mostly promising.
He began by cutting open the two goblins. While he did butcher some internals on the first corpse, the second went much more smoothly. He discovered that goblins had an extra liver, something likely caused by having to consume so many toxic foods. Their lungs were also smaller than their bodies would suggest.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t find out much more. His muscle memory kept interfering with the process, making it even more difficult to work with a much larger blade than he was used to.
The one non-frozen gnoll was a disappointment. It turned out that there wasn’t much difference between the anatomy of gnolls and regular hyenas. The only distinction was in the legs and arms. These were shaped significantly more like humanoid limbs, though still possessing the extra joints found in the gnolls’ animal cousins.
The boar-man, on the other hand, proved to be a challenge. When he made his first series of incisions, Kieran expected to cut into fat reserves. But where there would’ve been fat on an actual boar, on the boar-man, there was only pure, tightly intertwined muscle.
Kieran gained a whole new respect for the powerful creatures as he continued trying to cut. He encountered more and more difficulty the deeper his blade reached into the body. In the end, he failed in his dissection. He misjudged where the muscles would stop and the internal organs would begin, and he ruined the precious internals before he had a chance to study them.
Still, Kieran could count this as a valuable learning experience. He had little doubt of encountering more such creatures in the future. Hopefully, by then, he would have the proper tools.
Once he was done, Kieran retrieved some of the cloth covers from the promenade. He used some to clean his hands as best he could, wiping away the blood and viscera from the fight and dissections. Then he used the rest of the cloths to cover the bodies of his foes.
Survivors would be passing through soon. He didn’t want their first impression of him to be marred by a group of corpses, methodically taken apart and then simply abandoned by the road.
After disassembling the monsters’ hastily constructed barrier, he finally sat down to await the survivors. The setting sun felt pleasantly warm against his perpetually cold skin as he pondered his discoveries.
“I need a journal to write these things down…” he muttered to himself.
A gentle breeze caressed his face, making his nose wrinkle slightly. He could still smell the blood coming from the bodies. He was just considering whether or not he should move them further away when distant chatter reached his ears.
At least five distinct voices were approaching up the path, engaged in conversation.
Rising from his seat, Kieran took a moment to dust himself off. He frowned when his finger caught on a tear in his robes. It was a frustrating reminder that he still hadn’t gotten the chance to fix up his clothing from the damage it kept sustaining in his fights.
Maybe these new arrivals have some sewing equipment.
Kieran positioned himself at the point where the path met the King’s Promenade. Crossing his hands behind his back, he stood tall, waiting to greet the newcomers. When the group finally came into view, he counted two dwarves, three humans, and two beast-folk walking up the path.
Kieran put on his best smile. While he had never been great at interacting with the living, he hoped he could put this group at ease.
But when they laid eyes on him, all seven individuals seemed to hesitate. One of the dwarves, a man with a full head of hair and a long beard braided into a pattern, eventually took the lead. Stepping out from the group, he looked up at Kieran and raised his hand.
“Hail!” His voice, gruff and vary, echoed off the mountainside. “To whom am I speaking, and what are your intentions?”
Kieran tried to maintain his smile and keep his tone friendly. “I am Kieran Hall, Chosen Contender of the Promised End. I’m here to escort you up the mountain and ensure your safety.”
At the mention of the Promised End, the survivors exchanged looks and hushed whispers.
“Well met, Kieran Hall. I am Darrick.” The dwarf’s right hand rested on a simple hammer he carried on his hip. “Frankly, we don’t trust you. But it would appear that we don’t have much choice, if we wish to proceed.”
“That’s fair,” Kieran replied calmly, his mental and physical composure unruffled. “Fortunately, you won’t have to deal with me much. Rah’Na will be more than happy to take care of you.”
“Rah’Na?” one of the beast-folk chimed in from the back of the group, fox-like ears perking up with interest. “As in the Rah’Na? Watcher of Eon’s Peak?”Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“The one and only,” Kieran confirmed. Turning his back on the group, he started up the path. “Now come. We’re burning daylight.”
He heard another burst of whispers behind him. They seemed confused by his choice of phrasing. Still, they followed.
To his surprise, Kieran felt no small amount of satisfaction. After a few days trying to find his way in a new world, and being somewhat dependent on Rah’Na, it was nice to be able to tell someone else to ‘come follow’ for a change.
As he led them along the promenade, Kieran made a mental note to return later and get rid of the monsters’ bodies. He wasn’t sure if wild animals wandered the peak, but he didn’t want to risk bringing predators close to the settlement.
—
A short hike later, they arrived back at the settlement surrounding Eon’s Vault. Rah’Na was waiting for them near the arch, a fanged smile wide on her face and her tail wagging.
“Welcome, friends. I hope your journey here was uneventful,” she said, giving Kieran a nod. Walking to her side, he took up the same military posture he had used to greet the group, standing tall with hands crossed behind his back.
“Aye, as uneventful as it can be during these times.” Darrick marched up to Rah’Na and offered her his hand. Kieran found the size difference between the two individuals comical, but he kept his face carefully blank. “And I am glad to see an individual of your renown is still kickin’.”
Rah’Na gladly accepted the handshake, her eyes scanning the various members of the group. “Come, let’s get you settled in.”
Kieran stayed behind while the old wolf led the survivors into the settlement. He sat on the small fence dividing the settlement proper from the King’s Promenade, his thoughts still lingering on the dissections he’d performed earlier.
He had learned a lot from this initial attempt, but he had also missed out on a significant portion of potential knowledge. His tools were far from perfect.
But maybe… what if one of the newcomers was a smith? If Kieran provided some sketches, perhaps the tools he so desperately wanted would finally be his. Then, if he could get his hands on another boar-man…
Rah’Na’s familiar growl behind him interrupted his musings.
“Well done, Kieran. Both for getting them here safely, and… not scaring them off.”
Kieran gave her a sardonic smile. “Well, one was much easier than the other. I’ll let you guess which.”
The old wolf merely laughed as she leaned her massive shoulder against the arch. Kieran found himself marveling that the thin stone structure didn’t break under her strength.
“You seem a bit preoccupied,” she observed. “What’s troubling you?”
Deciding that it would be a bad idea to dive into the details, Kieran stuck to a basic reply. “I need a notebook. Or a journal. Anything to write in, really. And I need a smith to craft me some rather specific tools.”
Rah’na raised an eyebrow at this request. Having spent the last couple of days with her, Kieran recognized the look of curiosity and caution on her face, but her expression softened almost immediately.
“Notebooks and journals I have aplenty. King’s Watch pilgrims always brought a few empty ones on their visits.” Rah’Na nodded towards the building she used as her personal home. “Now a smith, that’s more difficult. I won’t ask why you need these tools, but I will check with this group to see if any of them know how to work a forge.”
“Thank you.” Kieran looked down at his hands. Despite all his efforts with the cloth on the promenade, there were still traces of blood under his fingernails. “I don’t think they would be willing to talk to me… for extended periods of time, anyway.”
Rah’Na chuckled, turning her gaze towards the settlement. “They’ll grow used to you. Being Death’s Chosen tends to inspire a certain amount of… suspicion. Besides, people aren’t as willing to trust during an invasion. Give it some time.”
Kieran shrugged. “I’m used to it. In my experience, your trusting me so quickly is the exception, not the rule.”
“Call it… well trained instincts. A benefit of age and experience.” Rah’Na sighed. “But that is not why I came to speak with you. I promised to show you the Vault. We can go there now, or you can rest while I ask the survivors if any of them can smith. And before you ask: no, I’m not letting you go to the Vault alone. Not because I don’t trust you, but because it isn’t safe for a new Contender.”
Her ominous tone piqued Kieran’s curiosity. After the fight with Broken Tusk, the thought of danger somehow seemed more appealing than it had before.
But if even Rah’Na was worried about him going there alone, then it would be foolish to leap in.
“I’d like to rest first,” he said. “If it’s really all that dangerous, I’d like to be at the top of my game for it.”
“Top of your game?” Rah’Na asked, tilting her head in confusion.
“A turn of phrase from back home. Don’t mind it.” Kieran hopped down from the fence. “So, the Vault first thing in the morning?”
Rah’Na nodded. “As soon as the first rays of dawn peek over the horizon. Be prepared.”
Without another word, she led him to his new place of rest. This turned out to be a small room in the building she called home. It was furnished with a simple but comfortable bed, a nightstand, and a couple empty bookshelves. The room didn’t have a window, but that suited Kieran.
He lit a candle and placed it on the nightstand, casting the corners of the room into deep shadow. Unbuckling the belt which held his weapons, he placed Last Breath beside the candle.
It was then that Kieran realized he hadn’t used his shortsword at all since his combat with Broken Tusk. It felt redundant, when Last Breath could extend its blade to the same length. He also wasn’t yet comfortable wielding two weapons at the same time.
But the shortsword had saved his life when he first arrived in Lyruna. Might it also be capable of acquiring its own weapon-bound skill, like Last Breath?
Kieran focused on the sword and summoned the gear screen.




Shortsword
A reliable weapon favored by beginner adventurers. Not the flashiest blade in the armory, but it will keep you alive long enough to find something better.
Lesser Foes Slain: 19 goblins, 3 wolves, 1 lesser imp, 1 gnoll
Greater Foes Slain: none




“So the counter changed on the sword as well… must’ve been when I killed Broken Tusk,” he observed. “Same as Last Breath.”
Memories of the elation he had felt during that combat rose up, but he pushed them aside. Instead, he focused on devising an experiment.
It appeared that his shortsword, like his dagger, was indeed capable of acquiring a weapon-bound skill. So, whenever he could, he would kill enemies with the sword, rather than Last Breath. He would find out whether only greater foes would grant abilities, or if a series of triumphs over lesser foes would achieve the same.
Maybe he could even ask Rah’Na to teach him how to fight with two weapons. The old wolf had certainly demonstrated her expertise with sword and spear…
Kieran shook his head, settling down to rest.
“Something for after the Vault, I suppose.”