Chapter 5: Chapter 5: A tale of a peasant

The epic beast, known as a griffon, soared through the skies atop a very tall and steep mountain where it nested, confining such an area as its territory. No creature dared to oppose it, much less trespass on the zone limits.

However, it flew when hungry, hunting humans and animals alike, killing as it pleased, and bringing prejudice to shepherds.

But one day, the king decided to give his daughter’s hand to the one who brought the beast’s head.

Thus, many people: nobles and peasants alike took on their weapons and sticks and then headed to the vile lair. 

Rumors of his highness’s agreement traveled everywhere, bringing people from many places to try it.

For the first time in forever, the kingdom was emptier than usual, having its men and women attempting their luck.

The journey was far. Many lost their lives on their way there. Narrow paths, muddy swamps, treacherous creatures hiding in the dark, taking cover behind the large trees.

The men in the front fought fierce battles, their bodies falling into eternal sleep. Their equipment fell, allowing peasants to arm themselves.

Days became weeks, and weeks turned into months.

By the time the crusade returned with the beast's head, the kingdom had been conquered. 

They forced the princess to marry, and her father slayed.

The large force became mad, enraged by the backstabbing they had received. 

Once more, they went to war, crossing swords with the enemy who stole their homes, lovers, and the chance to become the ruler.

Among the men, there was one, in particular, the brave young peasant who delivered the final blow to the ferocious beast.

The men had lost their chances when he did it, but they had seen him as the one who avenged the fallen men.

They had made him the leader and were now following him into danger. 

The men’s morale had never been higher. The young man knew the right words to increase their wills.

“They stole our homes, wives, and children! They deserve death!”

The conquerors got hit so hard that their defenses couldn’t last being breached to their demise. The steel tips of spears impaled their mouths, bodies cleaved in uneven parts. 

Heads planted on top of sharp, long wooden sticks. They tortured the false king to death, the forced princess rescued, and they crowned the one bathed in red, the youngster who incited them as king.

The book closed, and she looked at me, “what did you think Harlequin?”

“Uuu!” My hands hit each other, clapping in random excitement as if I understood anything at all. 

At my reaction, she chuckled, believing that she had brought me some happiness. She stretched her arms to the sides, mimicking the gryphon and roaring childishly, provoking a similar reaction from me.

“That’s right, young lord. Those monsters are dangerous and you should be wary of their intentions,” she winked at me, whispering a few more words to herself. “Humans too are wicked.”

“Uuu!” Deep within, I agreed, wishing to tell her that I, too, knew humanity very well. A good actor controls his emotions to the utmost limit, and so I did to the best of my capabilities, negating to convey my inner feelings.

She took a page of paper and what looked like a red pencil.

“Look, my lord, a gift!” She smiled from cheek to cheek, her elderly face full of kindness.

After placing the paper in front of me, she did a brief line on it, and to my surprise, it was red, slightly to the rose, but lovely nonetheless. 

“Uuu!” My eyes widened at the magical trick she had used, for I only saw black and grey before.

“Here, try it,” she extended her hand to me with the thin tool on top of her palm, which I took hold of.

And I spent a while doing straight and curved lines, things without form or meaning. The weirdest and the most random things I could do. 

However, to my teacher, they were quite interesting, abnormally unique like the rest of me.

A knock came from the outside and then the door of my room opened.

“How’s he?”

“He’s having fun, I believe, my lady.”

My mother approached with quiet steps to have a look at my endeavors, proudly smiling at my drawing.

“Marvelous,” she whispered to not pull my attention to her.

“Indeed,” my teacher’s eyes fell on my art, reminding her of scrambled eggs.

“Sometimes, they are geniuses in one thing and terrible at everything else.”

“Or so I’ve heard,” they traded glances.

“Do you think my son has one?” Her eyebrow raised in doubt.

“He can’t talk no matter how much I try to teach him, so if there’s something he’s good at then... it must be on a genius level,” a sigh escaped her lips.

My mother’s hand fell on the woman’s back, resting on it for a bit, “we have time to figure it out.”

“He might not have any talent too,” she muttered, knowing that it was not what my mother wanted to hear.

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“Yes...” her hand lifted from my teacher’s back.

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.”

She left me with my teacher, closing the door on her way out.

“What kind of hidden talent are you hiding from me?” She smiled at me, enjoying my drawing, despite not finding an artistic level to it.

“It’s certainly not this one,” a chuckle escaped her lips, embracing another day without the results my parents desired.

The hours went by, leaving me to play alone in our endless garden. It was the turn of Olivia, one of many maids at my family’s disposal. However, she didn’t take me seriously, leaving me be through the afternoons. 

But this time around, I ran like a lunatic to the training plains where my sister sweated daily.

It didn’t take me long to get there. This body was youthful, energetic, light, and fast.

‘I can finally try it,’ I focused on my skill.

<Requires a target>

Upon hearing those words, my will lowered. This meant I had to show someone my power, going against everything I desired.

‘Unless...’ I pondered on a workable solution, well, more like a dangerous gamble, but in my position, it was the only thing I could hope to attempt.

I kept moving through the low grass, avoiding the muddy small pools. It had been raining the day before, leaving these vestiges behind. 

It took me a while to find a creature similar to the one my brothers had slayed together earlier today. 

A looking-slimy ball kind of thing with a somewhat sticky and funny touch to it.

This one was transparent, and that meant good news. My eldest brother had taught us that newborn slimes usually came with that aspect.

Thus, it was likely inoffensive, lacking abilities to damage me, other than its own internal liquid, which could slowly melt down things.

I took a full turn, checking the surroundings with my arms spread wide, faking that I was playing around in some random manner. 

Upon checking that no one was in sight, I focused on my skill mimic, hoping that it could work against slimes.

The moment the slime trembled, I, too, shivered, trying to imitate the strange behavior of the little thing before me.

<You have understood the wobbling of a slime. Knowledge related to that species has increased by 0.1%>

‘No way!’ My knees fell onto the grass, feeling mocked and teased by the will of the world.

‘This can’t be real...’ I figured that the power had to do with my unfortunate characteristic and also my class artist. But this was too much, terribly unfair. 

Compared to my talented family members, I remained many steps behind. 

With the change in my mood, the concentration to use the skill was gone, rendering it null.

Upset about how things had turned out, I lifted the biggest stone I could see and threw it at the slime, smashing it.

<Artist is not a combat-oriented class, zero exp received.>

‘But...’ I clenched my fists, shivering angrily.

‘This can’t be everything to my new chance, can it?’ the struggle of this new class was more than I expected, cursing my loathing for the fool's misfortune to increase.

Before anyone found out I was gone, I returned to the perimeter of the mansion.

“Here you are!” I ignored her voice, chasing after a butterfly.

‘At least this world’s beautiful,’ my optimism was the sole consolation for this life.

“I’d like to know why they have expectations for someone like you,” she sighed, crossing her arms, displeased at having to babysit me.

‘People don’t choose to be born like this,’ I replied to her in my mind, staying still, allowing the white butterfly to land atop my index finger.

Laughter escaped my mouth as soon as I had it on me, irradiated with bliss for something so fantastic to happen. It was the first time such had ever occurred to me. Back then, living in a city had a lot of demerits: pollution, the lack of nature, lots of noise during the day and sometimes at night... it was not good.

However, because of my job, I couldn’t live further away in a more tranquil place, not that there were many. The world’s population had grown to 20 billion, the increase of buildings occupied a lot of green spaces, and they used most of nature for cattle. Without a doubt, it was the epitome of mankind.

‘Dreadful times,’ I scorned civilization and what had felt like the infinite evolution of technology which, despite having its brilliant uses, it killed a lot of the planet earth’s natural resources.

Furthermore, there was a significant change in some of the world’s religions. There was a certain priest who had proclaimed a certain sentence, “oh humankind, oh humanity, glorious be the day we return to the ancient times.”

I felt a hand grabbing my wrist, causing me to complain, “uuu!”

“No uuu! Time to head back in!” She shouted, and I struggled, but thanks to her attitude, the little butterfly flew away in fear, causing me to give up on keeping my stand against Olivia.

Thus, despite feeling a tad vexed, I went on along with her demands, never looking into Olivia’s eyes like I did with a few people. That was the ultimate way of revolting against her personality.

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