Bog Standard Isekai

Cid thought that Hedrek was going to die. Brin probably thought so, too. Both of them were really smart guys, smarter than he was. But he didn’t care. Nobody knew whether they were going to live or die. Hedrek had learned that early in life.

His dad was the strongest and bravest [Knight] to ever live, and then one day, out of nowhere, he up and died. And Hedrek had learned right then and there that nobody knew if they were going to live or die, so you might as well live to the fullest while you still could.

Cid thought he was going to die. So what? The Prime of that Lance of [Dread Knights] thought he was going to live. They could both be wrong.

He threw his greatsword at the oncoming [Dread Knights]; or at least, that’s how it felt. Fencing instructors liked to use words like “thrust”, “lunge”, and “parry” but to Hedrek it was always a throw. He threw his sword around everywhere, in every direction at once, and the bad guys just fell to pieces around him.

He threw himself too. He and his sword and his fury all working together, all thrown with the power of his strength and the System and his constant, ever-gnawing hunger. The [Dread Knights] fought back, of course, and they scraped at his armor. Sparks flew, and another piece stopped working and became dead weight–the plate on his left upper thigh this time. He hardly noticed it. The extra power that his armor gave him was so slight against the overwhelming force of his raw muscles that it was almost a comfort when it stopped trying to help him and acted dead like armor should.

He overwhelmed them, and the two [Dread Knights] stepped back. They used to come four at a time, but then it was too tight and Hedrek kept throwing them into the sides of the wreckage. They didn’t like that, so now they came two at a time.

They thought they had time. They thought they were going to wear him down, that he’d weaken and get tired. Maybe they were right when they thought they could kill him, but they were wrong if they thought he would tire. He was never going to quit.

Well, look at him! Hedrek was thinking about the bad guys and their plans and coming up with a counter. Brin would be proud. Actually, wasn’t the little freak spying on him right now?

“Hey Brin,” he said, uncaring that the [Dread Knights] could hear.

“Yes?"

“I think I just came up with a strategy,” said Hedrek.

“What’s your strategy?”

“They’re trying to wear me out so they can kill me when I get tired. So I simply won’t get tired,” said Hedrek.

Brin didn’t respond for a moment. The [Dread Knights] also paused before sending the next guys over. There was a brief moment of silence when no one did anything.

“Good strategy, buddy,” said Brin.

Hedrek started to worry that the [Dread Knights] weren’t going to come again, that they’d decide to leave. That would be good for the Lance, because that would mean that he’d saved them, right? But he couldn’t pretend that’s what he wanted. He wanted more. He wanted another crack at these guys. He wanted to throw himself into them again and again until they broke.

Lucky for him, one of them stepped forward. He carried a simple thin rapier and he carried himself in a very Cid-like way. This had to be their Prime.

“Oh, goody. Just you and me, huh?” Hedrek shouted.

The enemy Prime held the rapier out in the en garde position.

“Two of them are ready in the wreckage above,” said Brin. “They’re going to jump on you as soon as they think you’re distracted by this guy.”

“Perfect,” said Hedrek. He’d never figured out how to make the helmet switch between talking out loud and talking only to the Lance, but he didn’t think the bad guys would learn anything from hearing him say “Perfect”. Or maybe they could? Hedrek didn’t know. Brin was the spy-type guy in the Lance, and if he didn’t like it he could just silence him.

Hedrek ran to the Prime and threw the sword at him. Fighting just one guy was different than fighting a group. Rather than throwing his sword in every direction at once, he just threw it in one general direction and overwhelmed whoever it was with sheer fury.

The enemy Prime stopped him on the first blow. A casual side block, a move at a bad angle for the [Dread Knight], blocked Hedrek completely and sent him stumbling. Then the Prime thrust forward, once, twice, three times, each time gouging deep holes in his armor. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t seem to get his greatsword in the way of his enemy.

Right, he’d never been able to overwhelm Cid like this either. He needed to fight smart and fancy like the real smart and fancy guy he was.

Hedrek backed up and put himself in a fencer’s position to match the Prime. The man had a helmet like they all wore. Bright and silvery material, but shaped to look like a demon from hell. So Hedrek couldn’t see his face, but just by his posture he could tell the guy was smirking. He had trouble with some things, but he was just fine with people and he could tell: that was a smirk.

Hedrek lunged, and the Prime batted him away like he was a child. It was even worse than when he’d been fighting wild-like. He stabbed Hedrek in the stomach, pushing through armor and flesh. A Skill called [Somatic Regulation], which basically just meant “move your body good” according to Cid, let him push the organs out of the way of the rapier, but it was never a good thing to get stabbed in the stomach. The Prime could’ve finished it right there, but instead he kicked Hedrek in the face and watched him fall to his back.

That’s when the two guys jumped down from up above. Hedrek slapped the ground with both hands, launching himself into the air. He caught one of the descending [Dread Knights] midair and then flung him around at the other one. They crashed together and then into the rubble on the side of the path.

The Prime chose to rush after his men and protect them so that Hedrek couldn’t kill them while they were trying to get untangled, but more of his other guys were already making their way towards Hedrek to keep him busy.

Hedrek threw himself at them. He didn’t even think about fighting smart and fancy this time, but leaned into the wild ferocity. Sweep, kick, head bash. Jump, laugh, and spin. Back up for no reason, kick rocks into their eyes. One hand catches that axe by the haft while the other bangs the greatsword down on that shield like a drum.

One of these guys was a [Protecting Knight] like Rhun. [Inspect] wasn’t saying anything; he could just tell. Mostly from the big old tower shield the guy was swinging around like it was light as paper.

He thought he could break through and angled things so that the guy with the axe could go to town on the armor on his back while he had free reign against the shield guy. He swung with all his might and… no.

He pulled back just in time, because he could tell that his swing would’ve broken his own sword. It would’ve broken that shield, and he would’ve finally killed one of these guys, but it would’ve broken his own sword. Cid had told him time and time again: the number one thing he wasn’t allowed to do on Path of the Blade was break his own sword.

Of course, that didn’t help him in this predicament. The axe guy had broken through his back armor in a couple places now and it couldn’t take much more. He threw himself in both directions, front and back, and after about three and a half seconds of pure crazy, he got lucky. He clove off both of the tusks on axe guy’s helmet. That spooked him, and they both backed off for a spell.

Shield Guy whistled, and then a swarm of undead came from around the bend. A hundred or so–too many. Even if Hedrek could kill them all, he’d be too wounded and tired to fight off the [Dread Knights]. Well, joke’s on them. Hedrek simply would not get tired; easy as that.

That had to be the secret, right? He didn’t know exactly how to earn [Untiring Knight] other than that you were supposed to finish the [Path of the Blade], but he bet he could earn it through sheer willpower.

That’s when his hunger hit him, and then he suddenly remembered Anwir and his mind burst into the bright painful colors of pure fury. Neither of these things were new to him. Hedrek had spent most of his life hungry and mad.

Cowl had let down his burden, then. Were they out of range, or…?

“How are you guys doing, Brin?”

“Good. We’re underground and I’m guiding the undead away from us. We have a clear path back. We’re homefree. Try to pull away if you can. You’ve saved us! Now save yourself!”

Ok, in Brin speak that meant that they were underground and fighting hard and they still needed Hedrek to buy them more time. Another problem was the numbers. Hedrek wasn’t the best with numbers but he could tell the difference between thirty and ten. Of the three Lances that had been fighting them, two had already broken off to cut off Cid and the others. He wasn’t going to let this last group follow them from behind. And then there were all these undead to deal with.

Hedrek grinned and faced them. There were so many bad guys to kill!

The mass of undead flowed into him like a river. And the one thing about rivers was that you couldn’t hold them back by throwing things at them. They just kept on flowing. Hedrek tried anyway. He threw himself, hard, with all his might at the onrushing horde, and for a while it worked. The first to arrive fell at his blade, but more came, and they came so fast. They pushed him back.

He tried to stand his ground. He was a boulder in the river, unmovable. Except that mental image didn’t suit; he wasn’t unmoving. Never had been. It had driven his mother up the wall. No, he wasn’t a boulder. The only thing that could withstand a river was… another river.

The word wasn’t “throw”. It was “flow”. He flowed, letting his own wild tides crash into theirs, forming torrents and undertows and frothing foam. Always, Hedrek kept moving, kept swimming with the flow of battle. A river. He was a river. Hedrek, the river that never ends.

It wouldn’t change the end. Numbers beat [Knights] and that would ring true here, too, but for a while, he stayed afloat. He grasped a few more seconds of precious life from the jaws of death.

Sir Hedrek, you have achieved a breakthrough in your comprehension of your martial path. For this, you have been awarded experience and have leveled up.

The System didn’t talk to him like other people. He could read just fine but he’d never learned the trick of reading a whole sentence with barely a single glance like Cid could do, so the System spoke to him out loud. The voice was kind and feminine, and he was pretty sure he was her favorite.

Congratulations, young knight! You are level 41! Do you want me to read you your points? You get 7 in Strength, 3 in–”

“Just put the new point in Strength! Thank you, System!” said Hedrek. He didn’t need to hear all those numbers. His Strength was… a lot. He was strong. What more did you need than that?

Very well. Your free points will go to Strength.

He was a bit easier now, a bit freer. The System had basically just told him that he was on to something with the river thing, so he leaned into it. A river. Wild and strong and free.

“Wait, hold up!” said Brin.

“Kinda busy here, buddy,” said Hedrek.

“Do you hear that? The way your feet sound? No, I’m sure! You’re above a tunnel right now!” said Brin.

“Very interesting,” said Hedrek. Brin was always going on about trivia, bless his heart, but there was a time and place for it.

“So stomp really hard!”

Hedrek stomped. There was an undead's knee in the way when he brought his foot down, but that was just coincidence. His foot hit the ground, and to his surprise, a spiderweb of cracks broke out. Then it all broke open and he and the undead around him fell down into the dark.

It wasn’t very far, but there was a pathway open. Hedrek ran.

“Left. Then straight! Now go left again!”

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Hedrek couldn’t see at all in the dark, but he trusted Brin when he told him to turn and when to run straight, and he didn’t go face first into a wall.

“Alright. Keep going. I’m out of mana, so I’m going to drop off. So keep going! You can get out if you keep moving and keep quiet.”

That didn’t sound right. Brin didn’t get “out of mana”. No… Brin had run into someone with an Eveladis. That’s why he was going to drop off. They’d run into someone dangerous.

And what was he supposed to do? Run around in the dark forever? That was stupid. No, he was always too late to figure stuff out like this, but now he realized he never should’ve come down here. His Lance needed him back up there, keeping as many of those [Dread Knights] busy as he could, for as long as he could.

Also, and most importantly, he was hungry. Hungry and mad.

Cid told him that after his dad died, there was a Lord who was supposed to give him and his mom some money. But they hadn’t known that at the time and mom was too proud to ask for help, so Hedrek had grown up hungry. Hungry and mad. He’d worked hard, trained hard, ate what he could get, and barely slept. For so long, he didn’t know that there was an end to appetites. He’d dreamed about building a house made of meat and eating his way out. Only after joining the Order had he finally learned how stupidly little it took to eat until his stomach was full, to drink until his thirst was gone. Even his lust for women could be sated. But he had one kind of hunger that was never satisfied. He’d never seen the end of his hunger for destruction. Hedrek had never, ever gotten his fill of killing.

He turned and charged back. An undead ran into him, spear first, and Hedrek crushed it with his fists, going by feel. Then he used a firestarter he bummed off of Cowl and lit the hair of the undead on fire. Instant torch.

He wrapped the undead around his neck like a demented sweater, breaking bones to get it all loose. These things would burn and keep burning, and now he had a light for the way back.

The undead followed the light, or maybe the heat, but that was just fine by him. He fought them as they came, like little morsels coming to throw themselves into his bottomless stomach.

Old Hedrek would’ve had a hard time with the greatsword in the narrow tunnel. But old Hedrek wasn’t a river. River’s didn’t slow down when they entered a smaller space. The tight spaces bunched them all up and made them flow even faster, push even harder.

Hedrek pushed. The undead was a river coming the other way, but Hedrek was bigger. Hedrek pushed harder. Hedrek crushed their measly resistance and moved the flow back the other direction.

The undead were in a full sprint away from him when he reached the light and leapt back up into the surface.

He roared his defiance, his hunger, and cast his eye around for some strong bad guys to fight. Maybe he could have another go at that Prime. But they weren’t around. Just undead.

Of course. The [Dread Knights] probably thought he was going to keep running and were moving to where he’d be. He actually would’ve had a better chance at fighting them if he’d followed Brin’s plan. But who was supposed to be in charge of telling Hedrek this stuff? Because he definitely wasn’t going to figure it out himself.

But there were still some undead around, so it wasn’t like he’d missed all the fun. Hedrek threw himself at them. No, he flowed.

He swept across the wrecked city, killing where he could, moving with the momentum. Never lingering, never letting them pin him down, and never coming close to eating his fill. Some times a really cool undead would show up.

Hedrek found a big nasty guy with moth wings and a single long spike jutting out from his mouth. The System had something to say when he asked for an [Inspect].

Careful, Sir Hedrek. Hold your breath when you come near that one.

Hedrek killed it by flinging stones from a distance, which was hilarious because it exploded into a big poof of spores when it died. But it wasn’t exactly river-like, so he promised to do better on the next one.

The next one was a normal-looking armor guy with a mace, but he was a nimble and tricky fighter and he kept Hedrek busy for a full six minutes while he fought both the armor guy and an endless stream of regular undead.

And then… and then rescue came. Twenty high-level mercenaries, from the look of their mismatched armor. Two [Scouts], some sword guys, and a bunch of caster that threw balls of flame. They charged into the street where Hedrek was doing his work and cleared off the mass of undead.

He wasn’t done killing for the day, but he was glad for the chance to take a breather and drink a mouthful of water. In the fighting, the bottom half of his helmet had been broken off, leaving his mouth and beard open to the air. The beard was covered with blood at this point and there was more in his mouth, so he swished and spit before taking a deep pull from his canteen.

“I didn’t think anyone else made it out this far, yet!” said the leader of the mercenaries.

“You’ve interrupted my heroic last stand. But I think I can forgive you if you tell me why you’re out this far,” said Hedrek.

“Why else? The treasure of all of Arcaena lies at our feet, waiting for those bold enough to claim it first,” said the leader.

Then his face melted off. There was a flash of darkness, and then with a fwoosh all his flesh melted away to reveal a plain white skull.

The mercenaries shouted and scattered to take cover. Hedrek dodged to the side, avoiding a bolt of black energy that would’ve hit him just like his new friend.

Up on the wreckage surrounding them were ten figures in old and highly ornamental robes.

“System?” Hedrek asked.

The Skill is called Inspect, Sir Hedrek.

“[Inspect],” said Hedrek.

Well, since you asked so nicely. Those are the Heura’hadim. In Arcaena’s foolish youth, she sought to supplant the rightful worship of the gods with worship of her own self. These are the remnants of that foolhardy venture. Be careful, Sir Hedrek! If their death magic touches you, you will certainly die!

He didn’t trust any person who told him when he would or wouldn’t die, but maybe the System he could listen to.

Hedrek charged, like the rapids of a river. A river wasn’t weaker because it flowed around the boulders in its path. No, that made it smart. Hedrek could be like that. He kept that picture in his mind. He was the river, and those black bolts were the rocks. He flowed around them. He’d never moved like this. He was still wild; he was still chaotic and uncontrolled, but he was also smooth. He ran like a river and chopped the first evil priest in half.

The mercenary casters took down three more, but now more of their men were falling. Of the twenty that had come, only ten were left.

“Go!” Hedrek shouted. “I’ll hold them off!”

And then it was back to how it always was. Hungry. Angry, and always another bad guy to fight. He took down the rest of the casters the same as the first, but the last one was a bit of trouble.

This one climbed up on top of a two-story high stone pyramid that had mostly survived the blasts and threw his shadow magic at Hedrek from the high ground.

Hedrek had to climb carefully, quick to dodge, and it got harder the closer he drew. Then, when he was finally in melee range, the caster dropped his wand in favor of a sword. It was black and looked like it was made of smoke, and he knew without being told that he couldn’t let the weapon touch him or his greatsword.

He had to adjust the way he fought; he couldn’t use his regular reckless fury. He was still a river, but this time was a quick and nimble river, flowing around the bends and rocks without splashing. Despite the danger of the fight, it ended quick.

When the last of the undead’s blood dripped from his blade, the System spoke.

Well fought, Sir Hedrek! You are level 42! More points for you! Strength?

“Strength,” Hedrek agreed.

He rolled his shoulders. Tested his weight. He was tired. Was there a single inch of him that wasn’t wounded in some way? He took a calming breath. Then another. Then he breathed in deep, and shouted.

“MORE!”

Arcaena obliged, and the tunnels belched up another swarm of undead. He even saw a [Dread Knight] peek his head up out of the hole.

He fought, chopping and tearing and biting. Flowing, fast and furious. The undead died, but he started to lag a little bit. It was one thing to say he’d fight without getting tired, and it was another to do it. And he was doing it! Kind of. The truth was, he was getting tired.

He closed his eyes, and only opened them again when a black metal something banged the rest of his helmet off. Was he falling asleep mid battle? This was bad.

He summoned his strength, and fought. He fought with everything he had, gave everything he had left to give, and then kept giving because the alternative was to let his Lance down. Maybe they’d died hours ago, or maybe they were already safe and fine, but it didn’t matter. Just on the chance that what he was doing was helping them somehow, he had to keep fighting.

Eventually, the undead parted. Ten [Dread Knights] stepped forward. Hedrek couldn’t have beaten them whole and hale, and he was wounded and tired. He could barely lift his sword. That should’ve left him shivering with fear, but instead he felt a grin growing on his face.

They could see it, too, and it must’ve been a grisly sight because some of them flinched. [Dread Knights]. Heh. The Class must’ve made them extra scary; a tool for intimidating lesser men. And now look at them. Flinching away from little old Hedrek.

He did what shouldn’t be possible, and used a [Knight’s Charge], straight towards that shield guy. This time he felt it again, the certainty that if he swung with all his might his sword would shatter.

Well, who even cared? Hedrek swung with all his might. The shield broke, and his sword shattered.

He pushed the jagged shard of metal still attached to the hilt up in into the neck of the [Dread Knight].

He’s defeated, a level 40 [Dread Knight]. But Hedrek, you’ve broken your sword. You’ve stepped off the Path of the Blade.

With a last burst of energy, Hedrek turned to the next [Dread Knight] and tackled him into the wreckage on the side of the path. They broke through the twisted stone and lumber; the barrier was thinner than he expected, only about five feet.

But then where he expected solid ground, he met only empty air. He and the [Dread Knight] tumbled down and landed in darkness with a splash.

It was shockingly cold, the water. A well? A cistern? He couldn’t see his enemy, but soon he could feel him, grasping at him, awkwardly trying to bring his sword to bear while they both sank. Hedrek tried to fight back, but he didn’t have a weapon. The [Dread Knight] dropped his and wrapped around to pull an armored arm around his neck, trying to choke the last of his air out of him.

Hedrek felt the weight of despair, pulling him downward even faster than the water or the [Dread Knight]. He’d been stalled on [Path of the Blade], but it had still been empowering him. Without that, how weak would he be?

But to his surprise, when he pulled against the arms wrapped around him, he didn’t feel weak. If anything, he felt stronger than before. He felt warmer, too, like his body heat was pushing against the coolness of the water.

He struggled out of the grip, reversed it, and then punched the [Dread Knight] in the stomach three times until the guy let out a gasp and tried to take a reflexive inhale. Just like that, it was done.

Astounding, Sir Hedrek! You’ve defeated another [Dread Knight]! And now for your rewards…

Swimming in armor was hard in the best of times. You basically just had to power through it with overwhelming strength. He tried… and found that he could. His limbs had all the strength he asked for and more, and he found himself rising up from the water. His hands touched stone, and he grabbed on and began to climb, faster now.

Having stepped off the Path of the Blade, you are taking your first steps upon your own martial path. Do not despair, Sir Hedrek, for it was ever thus. The first [Knight] of your Order, Sir Gwondul, was a man such as you.

For reaching the beginning of your martial path, your Order has awarded you their hallmark Skill: Inexhaustible.

Your Class has advanced: You are an [Untiring Knight].

You have embarked on the Path of Uncontrollable Brutality.

Your power increases with your fury. You can ignore the debilitating effects of wounds taken in battle.

He didn’t so much climb as run with his hands and feet, vertically up the wall, and then exploded onto the surface. The other [Dread Knights] had already approached. They’d been throwing stones down at him, and he hadn’t even noticed. His body felt good now, whole, like he wasn’t hurt at all. All the exhaustion was still there, but he somehow knew that it wouldn’t be a problem any more.

[Knight’s Charge]. He blasted into two [Dread Knights] at once, catching one in each hand as he ran past them and flung them down the city streets. He scraped up the polearm with his fingertips right as a [Dread Knight] struck down at him from behind.

[Knight’s Charge]. Hedrek flew out of range of that one, and slammed the polearm into the chest of his friend. It shattered the plate, as well as the polearm, so Hedrek kicked his chest to finish him.

He grabbed the nice arming sword out of his hands, and then turned to face the Prime. The man had that same poise and arrogance as before, but he wasn’t smirking now.

Hedrek struck first. He was a crashing wave, the wild flowing river. This time, when he struck, the Prime had to brace with his whole body to turn the blow. Hedrek struck out again and again, from every angle. Unthinking, just feeling and moving with the twists and turns of the landscape of battle.

Rents began to appear on the Prime’s armor. Then a big gouge on his shoulder. He was bleeding, which made sense because you didn’t fight a river without getting a little wet. Hedrek knocked the rapier out of his hands. The Prime turned to flee, and the rest of the [Dread Knight] Lance jumped in to help.

[Knight’s Charge]! Hedrek fought, rejoicing in the thrill of combat. The [Dread Knights] were smart; they used strategy and they didn’t give Hedrek a chance to finish any more of them. But that was just perfect. It made the fight last longer, and gave more chances to bring forth that blessed, delicious destruction.

“More!” [Knight’s Charge]. “More!” [Knight’s Charge]! “MORE!”

“Hedrek. Hedrek. Can you hear me? I can’t believe you’re alive. I can’t believe we left you and… but never mind. Help is on the way.” It was Brin. They’d made it.

The thought sapped some of his strength. He didn’t have to keep fighting. He’d done it. He’d protected his Lance. He was done.

The [Dread Knights] still remaining didn’t think he was done. He could see it in their eyes. They still thought they were going to kill him. And when they hadn’t managed to bring him down themselves, they’d fallen back on the same tactics they’d been using this whole time. They gathered another army.

There were more of those Heura’hadim guys. Some undead riders on dead horses. Archers. And around two hundred soldiers. They’d emptied out the city for a mile around, calling the undead to rally with some kind of Skill their [Witch] mistresses must’ve given them.

Hedrek didn’t ask for more. This was probably enough.

Sir Hedrek, you’ve been given permission to use a primary cooldown Skill of the Order of the Long Sleep. [Awaken the Sleeping Ones] can only be used once per month. I suggest you activate it now.

He didn’t know how, but as soon as he thought about how he wanted to, the Skill went off.

It started like a mist, seeming to move slowly and outside of time. Hedrek charged the enemy, feeling that it was the right thing to do. Before long, he felt the presence of men to his left, and men to his right.

Dad was there. And Sir Poln from his first Lance. And Anwir. And hundreds of others. The mighty dead of the Order of the Long Sleep had come for him. Where none of the living could reach, the dead had come, to protect him from the dead.

They flowed over the undead army like a river, washing them away. The black death bolts of the enemy casters did no harm to the ghosts, and the dead [Knights] struck down an undead soldier with every swing of their swords.

The living [Dread Knights] held on a little longer. Their armor held against ghostly swords and their weapons did real damage to disrupt the forms of the dead [Knights], but it wasn’t long before they, too, were overwhelmed.

Silence returned to the city. Dad gave him a single approving nod before fading away. He looked to Anwir, who had a contented smile. He was satisfied with his choice, and felt no resentment. Hedrek wouldn’t have expected any different.

It was Sir Enderic who found him, only a few minutes later. A nice little reminder that no matter how strong he felt right now, he still had far to go. Sir Enderic struck down a few remaining undead that had crept up while he waited. Hedrek didn’t even think about helping.

Sir Enderic checked his wounds over quickly, and then nodded. “I wouldn’t call this good by any means, but you’ll live to see tomorrow.”

Hedrek could only chuckle to himself, because no one knew that for sure.

He wanted meat and bread. He wanted beer. A nice spot to sleep, and a cute [Seamstress] girl to sew up his wounds. He was fed up with fighting, though. For the first time he could remember, he could honestly say that he had seen enough death for one day.