Chapter 3

  “I’m sorry, you what? Got your ass handed to you by a girl?” Michael teased. “Seriously?”

  Giving his brother the finger, Francis nodded, glad to see he had finally found a path to convince Michael that he was different. Sometimes it was hard to tell his brother the full truth, but every time he came back to life, it was impossible to hide the physical changes.

  “She wasn’t a girl… this woman… Kerhi… she is a monster,” Francis said. “She uses magic of some kind to enhance her body and the punches she sends… they hurt.”

  Michael’s eyes widened, then his brother pointed at the wooden mess on the floor. “Well, I hit you with that table leg as hard as I could and you didn’t even flinch, so to hear what she did to you must mean she’s strong. Stronger than our side?”

  Francis shrugged, enjoying the last few hours he was going to have with his brother before heading out early to seek out Stenson. “Some but not all. She had a lot of respect from her people so I’m guessing she’s probably one of the stronger ones.”

  A whistle came from his brother. “And you like her, don’t you?”

  “What?” Francis said, feeling his cheeks pull back. “How can you say that?”

  Michael started to laugh, pointing a finger at him. “The way you talk! You’ve never been one to go after women who seemed… weak. If they don’t make a move or something, you usually ignore them.”

  He wanted to argue that Michael was wrong, but the truth was his brother wasn’t. Still, he didn’t have time to consider that right now. Perhaps one loop he might see about that, but at the moment, getting stronger was all that was on his mind.

  “Maybe… And thank you for this. I needed it.”

  His brother nodded, then shifted on the bed so he could lean his back against the wall. “I… I still can’t believe it all, but seeing how you look and watching what you did to that Cutter guy… how could I argue against that?”

  Francis clenched his hand, touching the spot where he had knocked Cutter out. Unlike the times before, he didn’t kill the man. Over so many deaths, he had worked out that anger and just ended the fight, and collected the money. “That reminds me, don’t go wasting those coins on stupid stuff. I’m not sure how long I’ll manage to live, but at least you’ll be able to enjoy life until I die again.”

  “And those two women?” Michael asked.

  Rolling his eyes, Francis shrugged. “I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned it, but every time I do you seem to accept things better.”

  “What can I say?” his brother asked. “I’m an easy man to please.”

  ---

  “It appears that your first trip went well,” Stenson stated, the smirk on his face telling Francis that his intuition was right. “Part of me wants to laugh at how I must be handling all of these moments we spend together and the other part is still so surprised by the young man before me.”

  Francis sipped on the wine the general had offered, enjoying something he rarely did, but knowing that whatever came next, a treat like this would most likely not come. “I get why you didn’t tell me more, but sending me over in that armor… I mean that was just ugly.”

  A chuckle escaped from the older man as he nodded. “Yes… I wonder if the other me feared what you might say or do after freezing like that but it also will help you see the importance of acquiring a basic skill all barbarians are born with.”

  “Born with?” Francis asked, feeling his eyes widen at those words. “Wait, how can they be born with a skill? Is it true that we’re not alike?”

  The general paused for a moment, his eyes landing on his bookshelf. Rising, he went over and pulled out a book, opening it. After a moment, the older man brought it back with him and sat. “I’d show you what’s written in here, but since you can’t read the language it's in, I’ll just translate. The four kingdoms are all comprised of what some would call an… original version of man. Legends, rumors, stories, or whatever else you want to call them, talk about how the gods each took a group of them and had sex with them, giving birth to a different race of man.”

  “Wait, what? No one’s–”

  “It’s not taught to anyone until the very end of the Spires,” Stenson said. “There is a reason why the little bit that is shared is kept quiet. Our kingdom doesn’t share the same view of its gods as some of the other kingdoms do. The four we worship and gain our power from are different than the ones the other kingdoms do. You’ll be surprised to learn that each kingdom considers its gods the ‘better’ ones.”

  “Whose are the strongest?” Francis asked.

  “No one knows,” Stenson replied, opening the book. “The last great war showed that our land can’t have the involvement of the gods without causing destruction that could easily wipe out all the kingdoms. That’s why we haven’t seen much from them in so long.”

  Before Francis could speak, the general tapped some lines in the book that were written in symbols he had never seen before.

  “This says that the barbarians were granted a special seed, a blessing, because of the land they hold. Most other kingdoms would struggle to survive in the area they do, and yet… somehow they have tamed it. Grains that won’t grow anywhere else grow in caves in that harsh environment, fed by light from fungus. The beasts they kill are stronger than most here, and they have also tamed snow-wolves and elk that they ride like horses. Their bodies are hardier and stronger as well.”

  “This sounds like they have an advantage over the other kingdoms,” Francis stated. “I mean, an ability on birth, plus their size and strength. How does that work?”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Stenson tapped a few lines below the ones he had just read. “Their weakness is that they cannot cast magic like most of the other kingdoms. You won’t find mages sending out plumes of fire or calling down lightning from the sky. Their magic is here,” the general said, tapping his chest. “As you witnessed firsthand, their shamans have learned how to harness the magic within. They can augment their body in different ways.”

  “So wait,” Francis said, holding up a hand. “Are you sending me there to learn magic or gain an ability to heal myself?”

  The older man shrugged, then closed the book. “I don’t know the answer to that question. All I know is that they are the only ones who have a record of one of their people learning what you’re seeking. But you’re forgetting the most important thing about magic.”

  Shaking his head, Francis frowned. “I haven’t forgotten. Men rarely can cast it. Why is that? Our gods or something else?”

  “That’s a question for the kingdom of Shenzen,” the general replied. “The practitioners of magic over there are almost equally male and female. They’re not as strong as the other three kingdoms when it comes to physical things, but their ability to harness magic is incredible.”

  “And yet they cannot defeat the army they face,” Francis muttered. “Which means whatever they’re facing can withstand it.”

  Stenson nodded. “I will say, I’m not sure if my other version of me in the previous loop expected you to die so soon after arriving. I’ve considered it, and would say I probably gave it a 50% chance of happening. Part of me had hoped you’d get a chance to see the enemy they face over there.”

  “Do you know what their fighting against?” Francis asked.

  “Not all of it, just some. Beastkin, except ones designed for that environment,” Stenson replied. “However, this is all taking place, it appears that the army we each face is designed specifically for us.”

  “Yeah, we discussed that before,” Francis said. “Not that I’m trying to be a jerk when I say that.”

  “I’m not worried,” the general said. “So tell me, what are you going to do different this time?”

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to give me any tips or education on their kingdom?” Francis asked.

  “You’ve learned they are honor-driven, albeit the hard way,” Stenson said. “When you are dealing with them, know that sometimes the smallest offence here would result in great shame or a potential duel. Choose your words carefully as you might just end up challenging someone, as you learned.”

  Francis grunted in agreement.

  “Glitvall is a lot like King Baxter, but he’s… involved more in the day-to-day things,” the general stated. “They don’t have as many people but I’d trade a half dozen warriors for one of theirs. I’m not sure who the main Jarl is right now, but that position is somewhat similar to mine, yet different. There are multiple clans, each with its own leader, and then you have Glitvall. Plus, there are shamans and that is a whole different sect as you kind of mentioned in your story.”

  “The ones who were surrounding Kerhi?” Francis asked.

  “Most likely,” Stenson replied. “If the others were giving them a wide berth as you described, and she used magic like she did, then yeah, that’s probably a sect of them.”

  “What about their gods? Should I avoid anyone specifically, like I do here?”

  Clearing his throat, Stenson tapped a finger on the closed book a few times. “I don’t know. Their gods are different from ours. You’ll find out rather quickly if you meet one that they don’t like you or whatever is inside you. The real fun is when you meet one of the stronger shamans and see what they can do.”

  “I’m sorry, there are stronger ones? Stronger than Kerhi?” Francis asked, his eyes widening.

  “I won’t try to judge her power or ability but if she was one of the stronger ones, she might have held back quite a bit. Spoiling the surprise isn’t something I want to do.”

  Francis groaned, pointing a finger at the older man across from him. “I swear, one day you’re going to give me knowledge without making me learn it the hard way?”

  “But would you really want that?” Stenson asked, his face completely serious. “Has anything you’ve gained and been worthwhile been something I’ve given or something you’ve earned? What would you be like if I had hand-fed you all the knowledge you now possess, and equipped you with the few magical items we have?”

  “A lot weaker,” Francis replied. “I get it… It’s just… sometimes I’m not sure if you’re intentionally being a bastard or it’s just the way you are.”

  “It’s both,” the general stated, smiling. “You mentioned Kels… how much do you know about him?”

  “Besides his father being Nehemiah, or him having the Physical Fast Learner skill, or that you’re teaching him the Way of the–”

  A hand rose and cut Francis off.

  “Obviously, you know more than I was certain of,” Stenson said, his other hand tapping his ear. “Some things I don’t casually talk about and you should be aware of that. Even if you’re going to reset after death, I prefer to think you’d learn tact and keep it between each death.”

  “You’re right. That was my bad. So what about Kels then?”

  “I train him harder and in ways that make learning slower,” Stenson said. “I could help him learn the patterns and movements, but the truth is that wouldn’t help him in the long run. The Way isn’t about knowing the movements. It’s about understanding that the sword you wield is an actual part of you. The truth is…” the general paused, set the book down and moved to his writing table. He returned with a simple pencil, assuming the stance Kels used when practicing the movements.

  “There will be a time, I am certain you’ll learn how to do this, Francis Lancaster,” Stenson said, closing his eyes.

  Francis could feel some kind of power build up in the pencil the older man held. The general’s wrist flicked and a blade of something surged forward, striking the rug and ground where he had aimed. Dust filled the air and when it settled, Francis saw that there was a gouge in the ground.

  He looked back at Stenson and saw that the pencil was no longer there.

  “What happened to it? How did–”

  “Some items cannot survive you empowering it like I just did,” Stenson replied. “So that pencil is no more. Yet if I needed to do such a thing, I am never unarmed.”

  “Because you’re just an arm ,” Francis said, emphasizing the singular.

  He started to laugh, unable to hold back as the general’s face deadpanned, clearly not enjoying the joke of his singular appendage.

  ?