February ~ 6!

CHAPTER 6

As Grant hurried to find a Bed, the drinkable kind, he noticed and waved to the jogging couple that had directed him to the sign-up area earlier. He noticed with some disgruntlement that they still looked perfectly fresh as they started yet another loop around the village.

He passed through a narrow cobblestone street and heard horses, realizing that he was right next to where he had spent the previous night. As he ambled by, the old man he barged past in the morning was sitting near the edge of the road with his head in his hands. Grant considered moving on and taking in the sights of the town, but… he wanted to be the sort of person that others relied on, and the first step of that was showing that he was willing to be there for them.

“Hello, old uncle. You seem to be having troubles, can I help ease your mind?” Grant slowed as he approached the old man. In the light of day, the stables looked like an artillery spell had hit it. Far worse than he recalled from his night spent there. “Is everything… what happened here?”

“No… nothing is okay here. I… can’t remember, but I must have knocked a couple of muck buckets over last night.” Grant clearly remembered the buckets the man was referencing. He also remembered knocking them over as he looked for a place to sleep. The old man lamented, “Oh, what a mess. I try my best, I really do… but when you get as old as I have, everything becomes rather challenging. Can… I feel terrible asking you, but can you help? I don’t have much to offer, but I can give you a bowl of vegetable broth and a protein bar? Hate those things, but practically nothing else to eat in this place anymore.”

Quest gained: Do The Right Thing. Clean Up Your Mess (Common)

Information: You made a mess of the stables when you kicked over buckets of horse manure! Will you do the right thing and clean up your mess? The rewards are minimal but you will at least feel better with yourself.

Reward: One bowl of vegetable soup and one protein bar.

Accept / Decline

“I happily accept.” Shame burned through Grant at the distress he had unknowingly caused to the old man when he kicked over the buckets. “I have nothing to do besides train, and I can’t imagine how this won’t put a strain on my muscles. Show me the way to the mop, and I’d be happy to clean this up.”

“You’ll… actually help instead of going off to train? I don’t know what to say. Maybe there is still some good left in the world after all? My name is Takato, Grant Monday, is it?” The old man sat down with a thud and pointed to the mop and bucket after confirming Grant’s name from what was floating over his head. “Fresh water is in the trough. Once you’re done in here, give the carriages a quick rinse?”

“What?” Grant peered past Takato to where the muck encrusted carriages were lined up. There must have been at least ten. “How did that…?”

Old Takato sighed and put his feet up on an upturned pail. With his hands clasped behind his back, he instantly dozed off. “This counts as physical cultivation, right Sarge?”

<I’ll allow it.> Sarge’s words cheered Grant up immensely, so the sword made sure to add a caveat. <We’ll call this your breaktime.>

The sun was deep into the horizon by the time Grant had finished his grueling task. Takato continued snoring loudly until Grant moved closer, starling the old man awake. “Huh, Wazzat? Oh! Look at this place! That wasn’t too hard, was it sonny?”

“Being honest, I’d rather not do it again.” Grant’s frank answer made the old man laugh.

“I like you, Grant.” Takato leaned in to whisper, “How would you like to earn a bonus? If you clean my house to be as clean as this, I’ll throw in a sack of protein bars. You youngsters need all the protein you can get!”

“Clean your home?” Grant stared the man down. He was swaying on his feet, and his stomach was nibbling on his spine to see if it tasted as good as it looked.

“That’s right.” Old Takato nodded enthusiastically. “Character building work!”

“I’ll pass.”

Quest Complete: Do The Right Thing. Clean Up Your Mess (Common)

Information: You came through, and cleaned up your mess. Good boy. Old Takato can rest easy now the stables are cleaner than they’ve been in years!

Reward: One bowl of vegetable soup, and one protein bar.

“As you will, not an issue. Follow me, kiddo.” Grant followed the hobbling old man out of the stables and into the house next door. “Take a seat.”

Grant looked around and was glad he’d turned down the bonus offer. Rather than offend the elderly gentlemen, he made an effort not to inhale the odor as he cleared a seat covered in knickknacks.

“Sorry about the mess. Housework has been a bit challenging recently. Here we are! Your bar and soup.” The bowl of soup wobbled alarmingly as Takato teetered towards Grant. “Enjoy! There’s no bread to sop it up, unfortunately… not since Lady February came to power.”

Grant took a tentative sip of the thin steaming soup, finding it more than adequate. “Thank you, this is the first hot food I’ve had in a couple of days.”

“Care for a story as you munch on that protein bar?” Takato watched Grant eat with a strange hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “I can tell that you’re not from around here, and you match a rumor going around about someone that royally ticked off our fearless leader.”

Nearly choking on his bar, Grant tried to get more information about that rumor, but could only nod as he coughed to clear his lungs. “You have the same look about you that my son did, years ago. The desire to do more, to be better. To be enough. Let me tell you something right now, young man. You probably have it hard. There’s nowhere that’ll take pity on you, nowhere you can walk where people will assign you intrinsic value. They don’t know you, and they won’t unless someone tells them about you. Even then they’d just want something from you.”

Takato watched Grant eat, a hint of joy in his eyes. “So let me be very clear. Wherever you are in life, whatever you are doing… it is enough.”

Grant’s bar was nearly forgotten, a bite half-chewed as this old man directly sliced open old wounds that had festered in Grant’s mind since he was a child. Old Takato trembled, bending the thin metal spoon as his hand clenched. “You remind me of my son… and he died alongside Lord February near six years back. They said he had achieved the highest honor.”

“What happened here?” Grant finally managed to form the words after a long moment where both had been silent. “Someone killed the Lord of the Month? That thought is just… so foreign to me.”

“Oh… Lord February was a physical cultivation maniac. He didn’t go down easy, let me tell you.” Takato seemed oddly proud of the man that had presumably gotten his son killed. “Change is not an easy thing to create, certainly not sweeping changes that reform and forcibly alter the flow of power and money. Six years ago, there was a coup d'etat that left a quarter of the Nobility slain, and a solid half crippled cultivation-wise. When the dust settled almost a year after that, Lady February was sworn in. She vowed to finish her father’s work, to bring the entire District to its highest heights..”

“Is that why she trains so hard?” Grant dug for any information that would allow him to have an edge against his opponent. “Are there people still working against her?”

Takato didn’t acknowledge the question. “Some say that she took the death of her father especially hard, and put it down to him not training enough. According to her, if he had maximized his cultivation time, he’d still be alive.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me about her?” Grant pressed the old man, hoping for something.

“Not much… I do know that she’s wildly powerful. Her physical cultivation is impressive, but I’m told that she’s a Berserker Cultivator. Her weapon cultivation is what makes her so dangerous, and her physical cultivation lets her keep going nearly endlessly.”

“Berserker? I don’t-”

<Forgot your lesson from last time already? Don’t worry, I can explain in more detail. Time to go, Grant.>

Sarge’s interjection made the young man bite back his words, and he stood and nodded at the kind old man. “Thank you for the dinner and story. I’m sorry to leave, but I have to prepare for a race tomorrow.”

“A runner! From looking at you, I’d never have guessed!” Grant’s heart sank, and he was left blinking in shock as Takato finished his thought, “From your armor, I’d have guessed you were an adventurer! Listen here, lad. You need a place to sleep, you come right on back here. I’ve got a spare bed.”

“R-really? Thank you for your kindness.” Grant bowed deeply, and left old Takato’s residence with a smile and spring in his step. It buoyed his spirits that the old man regarded him positively.

<Ready to do some training?> Sarge broke the silence, prompting Grant to roll his eyes.

“Sarge… I already trained today. The day is practically over.”

<There are twenty-four hours in a day, and you only need four hours of sleep to survive right now. Those hours do not need to be consecutive.>

“You can’t be serious.” Since he hadn’t been warned off food, in fact getting encouragement for it, Grant went to the Tavern and got his free Bed. He drank it down and walked outside, finding that his legs were burning. The thought of sleeping right now made his legs twinge, and he felt that he needed to get some air. He walked out of the town along the springy track, and decided to spend some time at the river.

“You know, tomorrow I’ll be taking part in the ‘Three Mile Tumbler’. I have no idea what I actually signed up for, is there any advice you could offer?”

<Don’t take a tumble? Make sure to keep your stance steady.>

“I’m being serious, here.” Grant groaned as Sarge’s attempt at levity failed.

<So am I, Grant. To tumble, means to fall suddenly, clumsily, or headlong. It could also mean to perform acrobatic feats such as handsprings and somersaults in the air… but I doubt it in this case.> The sword thought for a moment, then slowly declared, <My advice? Take your time, examine the environment, and approach any obstacles appropriately. I expect that it won’t be easy. No offense, but you aren’t in the ideal physical condition to take part in a race.>

“I didn't expect it to be straightforward. If it were, there's no way there would have been an extra spot. I can't believe how much competition there is just to participate in extreme exercise around here.” Grant finally stood beside the river and stared into the dark water.

A shiver ran through him. The night air in February had a bite to it, even if the days were mild and pleasant. The fact that he was a mess of sweat certainly didn’t help keep him warm, so he pulled the leather straps of his armor tight, blocking out errant gusts of wind.

Sarge brought out the bright orange monsters, and soon Grant’s exertion was protecting him from the worst of the chill seeping into his bones. He looked up at the stars that were brightly visible in the sky, and softly stated his new mantra as his eyes scanned the darkness around him for the tell-tale signs of things in the dark creeping toward him.

“Three hundred and thirty-three days, then a warm bed for a week!”