*000000*

Waking up in my room in the village was certainly an experience.

Let me tell you, using so much aura that it knocks you out really takes a toll on your body. It feels like the core of your body is frozen, while at the same time you're burning up with fever. My palms even had slight burns from the overuse of radiant energy. Charging into battle with no real training, relying only on intuition to manipulate my powers, was not my brightest idea.

Sitting up in bed, my back cracked loudly, joints popping all the way down my spine as I straightened. I nearly groaned from the stiffness and soreness still clinging to my muscles.

I was absolutely parched, so I stumbled over to the minibar, thirst almost killing me. Bending down, more cracks echoed from my back as I grabbed a juice pack. The sweet taste of apple juice felt like the finest wine ever brewed, soothing my dry throat and quenching the desert-like thirst that had settled in my mouth.

Looking out of the window, the village appeared peaceful. The sun seemed to have risen a few hours ago, casting a warm glow over the rooftops. The little roads below were mostly empty, save for a few early risers going about their day, and the tranquility seemed surreal after what I hoped was last night's battle.

After a few minutes of watching the village, I started putting my gear back on. Whoever had brought me back to my room had neatly placed everything in a pile on the table. My armor was spotless—the white plates gleamed, as if someone had polished them while I slept. Crocea Mors, however, looked worse for wear. The sword rested unsheathed in the corner of the room, black soot marking its blade from the overuse of my Oath. Luckily, there were no cracks, but the pommel was slightly singed.

I pulled out my maintenance kit and got to work, starting by cleaning off the soot with some water from one of my canteens. As I moved on to sharpening the blade, the moment the whetstone touched the metal, I felt a sudden pull.

The void greeted me once again, but this time it was different. The great tree still stood, but a new branch now glowed faintly amidst the darkness. Instead of the usual emptiness or the campfire with the rusted knight, I found myself in a tranquil glade. Tall, multi-colored trees surrounded me, and flowers of every imaginable color bloomed around a crystal-clear lake. Small fish swam lazily in the water, which sparkled like diamonds under the soft sunlight.

On the shore stood a woman, cleaning a sword. Her hair shone like spun sunlight, and her dress was as white as the clouds. As she finished polishing the blade, she turned toward me and beckoned me closer with her fingers. Her face was flawless—perfectly symmetrical, with eyes the color of rubies. But what really caught my attention wasn't her beauty—it was the sword in her hands. It was my Crocea Mors, but it shone like I'd never seen before, radiating pure light as if it were glowing from within.

She handed me the sword, her voice as soft and melodic as a summer breeze. "Hail, knight of the forgotten. Welcome to my grove."

"Uh… hello. Nice to meet you, I guess," I stammered, both curious and unsure as a blush started growing on my cheek. I took Crocea Mors from her, noticing how light it felt now, like it could float away. Yet it was solid in my hand, as if it would never slip from my grip without great effort.

"Your actions have impressed the Seelie Court and it has judged you worthy however you fled before our gift could reach you" she pauses, her face turned serious, "Let none say the court of summer denies a gift well earned," she said, brushing a stray golden lock behind her ear. That's when I noticed the pointed tips of her ears.

Oh no. Not an elf—a fae. Panic gripped me for a moment, but my Oath answered, its power washing over me like a calming wave.

"Take up your sword, knight of the round table. With the blessing of Summer, go forth and carve your name into history," she said, placing a hand on my chest and giving me a gentle push.

In an instant, I was back in my room.

Crocea Mors rested in my hands, but it had changed. Golden runes, written in a language I didn't recognize, were now etched into the blade. With a flick of my aura—which was still recharging—the sword lit up. It wasn't the dim, comforting glow I was used to. No, this light was blinding, like a second sun had erupted from the blade itself. Strangely, I could still see it clearly, as though it somehow knew who its wielder was, acknowledging me on a deeper, more fundamental level.

Looking closer, I saw that the same foreign language was inscribed all over the scabbard as well. When I shifted Crocea Mors into its shield form, the runes formed a wall of text on the inside of the shield, glowing with an otherworldly, golden light. Satisfied, I sheathed the sword once more and strapped it to my side.

With a clearer head, I thought back to the battle with the Grimm. It made more sense now. Radiant energy from my Oath was incredibly effective against those creatures, and being able to fly—though not at breakneck speeds—gave me a serious advantage against grounded foes. However, using Smites and other powers granted by my Oath really drained my aura quickly. Hopefully, with a bit of training and my newly blessed sword, I could manage it a little better.

As I descended the stairs of the tower, I spotted the village mayor, Mr. Blueheart, talking with the Huntsman in the red coat—the one who'd saved me. He was an older man, but still in impressive shape.

"Ah! My boy, you're awake! A bit earlier than expected—I thought you'd be out longer, considering the state you were in," Mr. Blueheart said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, still sore all over, and my aura's not fully recovered, but I'm up," I replied, grimacing as I stretched my aching limbs.

The mayor gave me a pleased nod. "Good to hear! And you held up just in time, too. The Huntsman we hired from Beacon arrived just as you finished off that last Grimm. He was hitting them from the rear while you defended the village front. A fine bit of teamwork!" He gestured toward the man in red. "This here is Peter Port, one of the premier Huntsmen in the Kingdom of Vale, and more importantly for you, a teacher at Beacon."

Peter Port smiled warmly, his mustache twitching as he spoke. "Hello, young man! Quite the impressive showing you put on last night. You remind me a bit of myself in my youth, though with slightly less panache!" He chuckled. "Mr. Blueheart tells me you're heading to Vale to take the entrance exam at Beacon Academy. Well, you're in luck! I happen to be one of the examiners for the combat portion. It would be an honor to accompany you on your journey to Vale—perhaps I could even offer you a few lessons along the way."

I couldn't help but grin. "It would be an honor, Professor. I'd welcome your company—beats listening to music on my scroll the whole trip."

"Splendid!" Port boomed with enthusiasm. "We'll depart tomorrow morning, so make sure to have a hearty breakfast and get plenty of rest tonight—no strenuous activity, eh?" he added with a wink and a laugh.

After saying my goodbyes, I decided to get some fresh air and grab something to eat. The afternoon sun was still high in the sky, its heat making the village feel a bit stifling. As I made my way to the local bakery, the villagers gave me appreciative nods and smiles. A kid even waved at me, and I couldn't help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. My Oath seemed to echo that feeling, a subtle warmth that made me stand a little taller.

I reached the bakery and bought a simple sandwich and a bottle of what passed for soda in Remnant. It wasn't exactly the Coca-Cola I remembered from Earth, but it was close enough. After finishing my meal, I lounged around near the village gate, watching people come and go as the day slowly turned to evening.

As dusk approached, I made my way back to the tower, exchanging pleasantries with villagers as they passed. Some of them, particularly the women, gave me friendly smiles—maybe even flirtatious—but I'd never been great at handling that kind of thing, in this life or the last.

Once I reached my room, I packed my belongings for the journey to Vale. I double-checked everything before crawling into bed, ready to face another trek through the woods.

CP Bank: 0

Perks earned this chapter :

200cp :

Fae Made (King Arthur) (Making)

You've been blessed with an item made by fairies. Such items are completely unbreakable and completely out perform other similar items made by human hands. Even magical effects are more effective when applied. May also have another item upgraded including any you've bought here for no extra charge.

Applied to Crocea Mors