Book 4. Chapter 20
Brin couldn't help but feel like he was at a disadvantage here; he'd sort of implied that the training he would put them through was better than whatever the [Knights] regularly did, but he had no idea what that was. Worse, he also had no equipment and no prep time.
Logically, something like aerobics and isometric exercises would work well here, but that didn't feel right. [Knights] didn't need to do planks. [Knights] needed to lift weight.
His first idea was to have them haul tree trunks around, since that's something he'd done with Davi, but the trees nearby were thin and knobby. He didn't think they'd work very well for what he had in mind.
Then he remembered they were atop the foothill of a mountain. There was rock everywhere. Good rock, too. The mountains near his home in his old world had been made of lots of sandstone and shale, which tended to form long, flat plates. The rock here was course and round, more like granite, and already Brin could see several nicely spherical-shaped boulders. He could work with that.
Since he'd already promised them a ten minute break, he left them to inspect one of the rocks. It took a lot less effort to pull it out of the ground than he expected. In his past life a job like this would've taken hours, complete with lots of digging. Now, he simply pulled it up and the entire thing came free.
The stone was a little bigger than a basketball and he'd guess around a hundred and fifty pounds. He hoped it was heavy enough to challenge some of the lower-leveled men. He couldn't use something much bigger or it would be too hard to work with.
Then just to see if it would work, he put a handle on top, summoning it with glass. He let the glass coat a large section of the stone, murmuring encouragement in the Language for it to sink into all the little holes and crevasses.
When he picked it up by the handle, he was pleased to see that it managed to hold the stone up, though he sensed the strain on the handle had it near breaking. He had to pump a good deal of Mana into the glass to strengthen it enough, but when he finished he was pleased with the result. A fairly functional kettlebell.
He spotted two more stones of the appropriate size, and pulled them from the ground. He split two pieces off of his mind and instructed them to summon handles in the same way.
Taking the kettlebell he'd already completed, he brought it to the [Warrior] and said, "Try this." He lifted it in a curl up and then handed it over.The [Warrior] was level 13, and named Aeron Flint. Aeron took the stone by the handle and the strain immediately showed on his face through the helmet. He clenched his jaw and scowled in concentration, and managed to mimic the curl-up somewhat smoothly as if it had cost him no more effort than it had Brin.
"Good!" said Brin and clapped him on the shoulder, and turned to speak to all of them. "You know, you Prinnashians are very rich! Where I come from, you have to dig down hundreds of feet to find stones like this. And you have such treasure laying around where anyone can pick them up." Brin [Inspected] the [Hunter] to get his name. "Anwir, find us seven more stones about this size please. Aeron, Meredydd, help him."
They looked at Cid first, who nodded with a shrug, and then they turned away to search.
"In the meantime, I'll be showing you all what we can do with these treasures. Oh, but first, Brych!"
The [Rogue] was only starting to pick himself up from the ground, and he glowered at Brin in suspicion. He was short and stocky, and looked mean and tough
"Your role in this Lance is maybe the most important, true? You are our eyes and ears. Your fine [Rogue] senses will warn us of danger and keep us from stumbling into traps," said Brin, still awkwardly falling over his words in Prinnashian.
Brych looked left and right, perhaps trying to figure out if Brin was mocking him or not, but he got no answer in the blank, tired stares from the other members of the Lance. "Alright," he said.
"Tell me, are there any dangerous creatures nearby?" Brin asked.
"No," Brych said with a dismissive laugh.
"What creatures do you sense nearby?" Brin asked.
"Three birds. A mole. A snake," said Brych.
Brin's Invisible Eyes had already spotted the birds. He pointed them out. "Two sparrows there, and I think a raven over there. Is that right?"
"Yes," said Brych.
"Describe the snake," said Brin.
"It's just a common ground snake! Just over there!" said Brych, growing annoyed.
"Fine. Tell me if anything else approaches," said Brin.
The [Hunter] had already found another stone the right size, and he and the others were working on trying to pull another out of the ground. The [Porter] saw their struggle and handed them a shovel, and then joined in on helping them. Even though he actually hadn't told him to do that, Brin was glad to see it; that kind of initiative should be encouraged in the long run.
The [Porter] then pulled the next three boulders out of the ground on his own with his bare fingers, and carried them all together to drop at Brin's feet, as easily as Brin himself would have.
Brin [Inspected] him.
Name: Cowl Candle
Age: 15
Level: 15
Class: Porter
Description: Cowl is a specialist at moving and transporting goods, as well as being a deft hand at many of the menial tasks required for setting up camp and keeping equipment in good condition.
Skills: Carry [30] - Cowl can carry all objects or goods as if they only weighed a fraction as much.
Transport [46] - The space inside the bags and boxes Cowl carries is increased on the inside, by an extra 142%.
Well that was a useful Class! He would never consider it for himself, but he could absolutely appreciate someone else having it. Brin [Inspected] Cowl's backpack and found nothing special about it. Enchanting a bag to give extra holding space was ludicrously expensive, but apparently you could get around that by hiring someone with the specialized Class. It was also a bit sad; he was part of a Lance but his Class didn't say anything about combat. Would he even join the fighting, or was he just a servant?
"Thank you, Cowl," said Brin. "But I think you can stop there. Nine will be good enough."
He had a suspicion that a regular stone wasn't going to work on someone like Cowl. Instead, he summoned one all out of glass. He probably could’ve summoned all of these out of glass, but that would’ve taken a huge chunk of his Mana and he had a feeling he would need it before the day was through.
"Here, try this one," said Brin, and handed Cowl the one made of glass. At the same time, he used glass magic to push it downward at a steady pace to simulate weight.
Cowl grabbed it confidently, but then his eyes bulged and the weight of it pulled him to the ground where it landed with a thunk.
It looked like [Carry] only helped when carrying objects; it wouldn't do anything to negate the force of someone who was pulling against him. Brin assigned the task of pulling the glass ball downward to a Directed Thread and then passed out the rest of the kettlebells.
To Hedrek and Cid he said, "I made these for you, but I don't know if this will be effective to someone at your Strength. You can follow along if you want, though, so that you'll know the exercises."
Hedrek kept his arms folded, saying nothing, while Cid picked one up lightly and said, "And what are we to do with these?"
Brin turned to the rest of the Lance and leaned into his Frenarian accent a little bit more. Would it also be too much to deepen his voice a little? He figured it couldn't hurt, and set another Directed Thread on the job.
"I know what you're all thinking. Normally you do a job, and one group of muscles gets tired while the rest of your body is totally fine. Well today, we're going to make sure to work every single muscle in your body!"
That elicited a few groans, and Brych said, "Why? We already went through initiation training. We should be done with this!"
"That's the good part! You're never done. You can always get stronger," said Brin.
"Are you going to do it, too?" Brych asked slyly.
Brin blinked. Could they really not see that his level was 38? Well, it's not like he showed off his attributes. There’s no way they would know what [Warbound] had done to his Class. "Of course. How about this? I'll do twice as many as any of the rest of you." Then when he noticed Hedrek start to look excited he snapped, "Except for you and Cid!"
Hedrek looked away, still folding his arms.
"Let's go!" said Brin.
He had them do a simple deadlift first, and only to get them used to the weight, stopping after twenty reps. Cowl stared at his heavy glass kettlebell in alarm as if it had grown a face, and only picked it up in the deadlift after Brin yelled at him three times. He was shaky, but Brin thought it was more mental shock rather than physical strain.
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After the deadlifts, he did bent-over rows, overhead presses, chest presses, sit up press ups, and more. He had them do each exercise until failure, and repeated sets when he thought they had more to give. [Athletic Training] came in useful; even though this level of training wasn't doing a lot to push him, the Skill gave him an instinctive insight into how much punishment he could inflict on his Lance-mates. Sometimes he used the glass handle to help pull a kettlebell up when he thought someone needed to get that last one out to really finish the set. Other times he had to slow a kettlebell as it fell to stop it from breaking or landing on someone's foot.
Cid and Hedrek joined in. Cid looked like he really wanted to try it out, and Hedrek probably only joined out of boredom. As Brin had expected, neither of them really seemed to be straining to keep up, and they each did however many repetitions that Brin did, which was twice the amount of anyone else.
At first, he thought Rhun might actually be able to challenge him; he was much stronger than anyone else in the Lance, but at the end of the day Brin's levels won out. He was able to do forty press ups to Rhun's twenty without breathing too heavy or showing noticeable difficulty, and the rest of the exercises were about the same.
Brin stayed away from too many leg exercises, since they still had to run back to headquarters, but overall he was satisfied. After an hour of brutal punishment, he figured he'd given everyone a decent workout. Even with Vitality bending the rules of the human body, he was sure they'd all be sore tomorrow.
As he set his kettlebell down, thinking about if they should do more squats after all, he felt a familiar weight press against his leg on the inside where the armor didn't touch.
Marksi was so well-camouflaged that even now Brin could barely see him. He picked the little guy and hugged him against his face.
He heard a gasp, but focused on delivering pats to his little buddy. "Where've you been all day! I missed you! Little rascal."
Marksi was completely unrepentant, but was happy to receive the attention.
"Where did that... what is that?" asked Anwer the [Hunter], pointing at Marksi with a shaky finger.
Brin looked up and was amused to see all the looks of shock and alarm. Rhun was also clearly enjoying this, having also been put on the backfoot by Marksi more than once.
"Good question. Brych, what is this?"
Brych hunched over when everyone's eyes went to him. "What? I don't know!"
"I asked you to keep an eye out for dangerous creatures, didn't I? Marksi here is a dragon," said Brin.
Brych spluttered. "He... he just popped out of the air!"
"He's sneaky. But Brych, you're our main defense against sneaky creatures. You think Arcaena is above sending in creatures like this?"
Cid broke in. "It's a good lesson. For all of us. Staying vigilant and keeping an eye out isn't Brych's duty alone. I’ll expect each of you to do better. Don’t become so consumed in your task that you forget who and where you are."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
He stared at each of the men in turn, and they all nodded at him one by one.
"I wonder if now would be a good time for lunch," said Cid.
"Time for a break!" Brin called out. "Good work, all of you. As for lunch, I'm not sure... how that works."
Hedrek snorted in disgust. "Cowl, you need a fire?"
Cowl was startled out of staring at his glass kettlebell in equal parts fear and revulsion. "N-no. We'll do cold cuts, I think."
He set his pack down and drew out a folding table which Hedrek set up. Working together, they set out a cutting board, a side of ham and a slab of roast beef, both wrapped in paper. They cut slices of each, heaped them onto slices of hard, dark bread, and passed it out to everyone. They started with the Dectant, Govannon, and worked their way up the ranks, serving himself last.
Without any real chairs or even any handy fallen logs, one of the [Warriors] had the idea to use a kettlebell stone as a chair, and the rest followed suit. Everyone ate quickly, as if afraid that he or Cid would take their lunch away if they didn’t tuck it away quickly enough, but then when everyone was done, Cid made no move to give further orders and they began to relax and even chat a little bit amongst themselves.
The conversations drew Brin’s attention to the ones who didn’t seem to have friends here. Govannon the [Page] stared silently at the ground, and Brych the [Rogue] leaned his head on his palm, looking bored.
Of course, no one spoke to Brin either, until Cid asked him, “Why a series of different exercises? The System is more likely to award points to those who complete a single feat of Strength.”
“Those feats are hard to plan. It’s better to take advantage of things when they come up than try to…” Brin wanted to say “to instigate a feat artificially” but didn’t know the words in Prinnashian. “...to force it to happen. This training is for building muscle.”
“It obviously didn’t work for you, though,” said Hedrek.
Brin flexed his bicep, which no one could see under the armor anyway, and clapped a hand to it. “If you’d seen where I was starting from, you’d know how well it did work. Besides, I’m just coming into a growth spurt.”
Hedrek laughed in derision. “Everybody says that.”
Brin just shrugged. He knew when someone was trying to get under his skin and he’d honestly been expecting worse. Well, no, he was planning on worse.
Cid stood up, and then when the Prinnashians automatically moved to follow, he said, “No, no, remain seated. I think it’s time we had a bit of a chat.”
All conversation immediately died down, and Brin had to admit Cid at least looked like a [Knight]. He had a presence about him, which was an achievement at eighteen years old. He didn’t seem to talk much, but when he did everyone stopped to listen.
He held both hands behind his back and faced them like a college lecturer. “This topic may be uncomfortable for some of you, I know especially in Prinnash this is taboo, but we need to talk about your Classes. Part of being in an Order is accepting that the Order will have a say in the way that you grow and develop. This is to your benefit. You now have access to centuries of refined wisdom in regards to Skills and evolutions. So now my question. How many of you hope to take [Squire]? By show of hands.”
Everyone except Brin and Hedrek raised their hands. Cid clenched his jaw seeing them all go for it, but when he looked at Brin there was a slight twinkle in his eyes. “Thank Eridu for small blessings.”
Brin hesitated. “Do you think I could still make [Squire]? It’s not like I don’t want to–”
“No,” Cid said coldly. “Now, the rest of you, keep your hands in the air unless you’ve changed your mind. And I hope some of you will. I’m sure you are all already aware, but this isn’t the typical composition of a Lance. Usually we have four or five [Knights] at most, supplemented by support Classes, taken from the best of the best of the regular army. I could really use some of those Classes. An [Axe Master] or a [Lancer] especially.”
No one put their hands down, so Cid continued on. He looked at the [Hunter], Anwir. “Our ranged capabilities are especially vital. If we have no one who can hold a bow, we may as well resign ourselves to death and failure.”
Brin could have chimed in about how well his glass javelins worked at range, but figured this wasn’t the time for that.
Anwir said, “Can a [Knight] hold a bow, my lord?”
“I suppose there’s no reason why not,” said Cid, stroking his chin. “But please remember that a [Knight] is a sir, and that includes you now.”
“Yes sir,” said Anwir, and kept his hand in the air.
“That does lead me to another point. Perhaps you all think that being a [Knight] will improve your status. This is not so. As of this morning, you are all knights-at-arms, with all the rights and honors of any other knight. Receiving the actual Class will not change this.”
No one put their hand down, but Cowl the [Porter] started to shrink under Cid’s gaze, lowering his hand by a few inches.
Cid looked at Brych the [Rogue]. “To be honest, a [Knight] with slightly better than average senses would never be as useful to me as a [Scout].”
Brych gulped, but didn’t lower his hand. Brin was glad he didn’t give up. The Lance honestly didn’t need a [Scout] with Brin’s Invisible Eyes, but it’s not like he could tell them that.
Cid turned to Meredydd next. “Your [Armsman] Class may be our best asset here, even more valuable than a [Scout] would be. You’ve evolved [Smith] into a combat Class, but if you lean back towards smithing, the maintenance of our weapons and armor may well save all of our lives. Will you really deprive me of this?”
Meredydd seemed shame-faced, but didn’t put his hand down.
Cid looked at Rhun next. “Your level is fairly high to start a new Class. You may miss some of the vital Skills that a [Knight] usually earns at low levels. There’s also another issue. You took [Iron Body] and not [Blade Mastery]. Why?”
Brin wondered how Cid knew that. The Order must have some sort of intelligence-gathering apparatus that he wasn’t aware of.
Rhun looked aghast at having his build called out like that, but puffed out his chest and tried to look confident. “I am as good with the blade as any [Warrior] with [Blade Mastery], and I have mastered the blade on my own, through vigilance and practice. Turning my skin to iron is something I could never do, no matter how much I practice.”
“You can cover your skin with actual iron. It’s redundant. And be warned: The standard method of advancement of [Knights] in the Order of the Long Sleep requires us to merge [Blade Mastery] with a [Knight] Skill. You might never be able to earn our hallmark Skill: [Inexhaustible]. Why not consider a natural evolution from [Warrior]. In addition to [Axe Master] and [Lancer], you might also consider [Duelist]. I’m told you have a fondness for such things.”
“Are [Knights] stronger than [Duelists] or [Lancers]?”
Cid shook his head. “Not necessarily. [Knights] level slower. Since they are more powerful level for level, they take larger feats of valor to gain levels. [Knights] require knightly challenges. Should you keep [Warrior], you will shoot up in levels far faster than your peers.”
Brin knew the answer to that. Rhun would grow in levels faster until he hit a roadblock. Eventually, he would stop being as strong as any of the monsters at his own level, and then he’d hit a plateau. That was probably why most people stopped leveling in the thirties: the challenges that it took to grow past thirty just weren’t worth it.
Rhun stubbornly kept his hand in the air.
Cid raised his eyes to the heavens. “Will no one relent and give me a useful Class?”
Govannon the [Page] looked completely sure of himself, but the rest all had some amount of hesitation in their features. They all stayed sitting with a hand in the air, though some hands started to tremble. Brin wondered if some part of that was the intense workout he’d put them all through.
Cowl the [Porter] broke first, and let his hand fall.
“Put it back up, you fool!” Cid snapped.
Confused, Cowl raised his hand back up again.
“Oh, put them all down, please,” said Cid. He rubbed his eyes. “Listen, the normal way of setting up a Lance is to protect the precious blood of noble sons by surrounding them with high-level commoners, and to temper the fire of youth with experience and wisdom. I see no experience or wisdom here, so I’ve decided to work with what I’ve got.
“Make no mistake; [Knight] is a Class unlike any other. Operating a Lance with nine [Knights] will be a challenge, to be sure, but if we can pull it off we’ll have the best damned Lance that this Order has ever seen.”
Rhun leapt to his feet and yelled, “Huzzah!” The others followed suit, banging fists against their breastplate and cheering.
“Just think of it! Nine [Knights]!” said Hedrek. “If only that were ten…”
The cheers died down and a quiet tension grew in its place. Hedrek looked around. “What? I know you’re all thinking it. Where does a Common glassmaker fit into a Lance of [Knights]? As a Second? Really?” He spit on the ground.
Brin’s instincts were to just shrug this off and ignore it; that’s how he would have dealt with this in his old world. But that wasn’t going to work here. If he was really going to be Second, then he would have to be the one shouting orders all the time. He needed everyone to listen to him, including Hedrek. Especially Hedrek.
Brin flicked his fingers as if brushing away a speck of dirt. “Earn some merit and gain some levels before you talk to me about who belongs in a Lance.”
“I have thirty levels as a true man. You have levels in what? Blowing glass? You going to make me a fancy mirror or a little tinkling bell?” said Hedrek.
“Keep this up, and I will ring you like a bell.” Brin stepped up close until they were nearly nose to nose.
To his surprise, Hedrek put both hands in the air and then stepped back. But then once he had space he drew his sword. “Prime, I feel that this morning’s activities didn’t didn’t give me the workout I was hoping for. Perhaps you’d allow me to indulge in a bit of light sparring.”
“That sounds like a grand idea,” said Brin, pulling out his spear. “I’m feeling a bit restless as well.”
“You need not do this,” Cid said to Brin.
“I think we both know that I kind of do,” Brin murmured back.
“Then I’ll remind you both that friendly spars do not generally end in drastic injury or death,” said Cid.
“Of course,” said Brin.
“Naturally,” said Hedrek.
The men made space and Brin and Hedrek squared off. Since this wasn’t a duel, no one would call the start to the fight. Brin split his mind, called on his magic, and prepared himself for some friendly sparring.