Another name was now on Hadjar’s long list. Correction, a nameless face. Regardless, it was as high up on the list as Primus’ own.
One day, the General’s son would pay for his transgressions.
Hadjar would make sure that the Scholar could rest in peace.
Sighing, Hadjar got up.
That’s when he realized that he was in a wooden hut. There was a bed against the wall of the small room he was in.
Other than the bed, there was a homemade nightstand and a window made from a dried animal gallbladder. The house looked rather shabby, because in normal towns and cities, people could afford glass.
Hadjar tried to take a step toward the door but immediately fell down, gripping his knees tightly.
“Idiot,” the young man rebuked himself.
Sure, he had his legs again. However, for the last ten years, he’d been walking around on wooden sticks and was now suddenly much taller than he’d been before.
He would likely have to learn how to walk again.
At that moment, the door opened. More precisely, somebody tried to open it, hitting Hadjar on the head in the process.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” a warm voice said. It was like honey in his ears. “Why did you get out of bed?”
A girl entered the room.
Hadjar mentally rolled his eyes.
Was it his fate to always have women nursing him? Or did someone in the sky get confused and, noticing that Hadjar was generally unlucky, had decided to give him some good fortune for a change?
“I’ll call my grandfather,” the cute girl cooed and ran off down the corridor.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Hadjar whistled while trying to get up.
He only managed to sit up and then lean his back against the wooden wall.
“Status,” Hadjar ordered.
[Reconfiguring the interface. Error correction has been completed. Host’s Age: 9 days!]
Hadjar didn’t really show any surprise since he quickly puzzled it out.
It was actually quite logical when he thought about it.
Upon his rebirth in this world, the neuronet’s age counter had returned to zero and then began to track it from the beginning. It seemed as though Traves had done something to his body and Hadjar had been reborn for the third time. Or was it the second time? He was rather confused by his obviously broken cycle of rebirth.
Name
Hadjar
Level of cultivation
None
Strength
0.7
Dexterity
0.9
Physique
0.8
Energy points
0.3
“What have you done, young man?” A... Hercules asked as he came into the room.
Hadjar was unable to come up with any other names for this man. He was about seven feet tall and his shoulders were about three feet wide. His mighty hands could’ve easily turned Hadjar’s head into pie dough.
In one gentle motion, the man picked up the Prince with ease and put him back on the bed.
“Thank you, Honorable…”
“Robin,” the gray-haired Hercules said. “Call me Robin, wanderer.”
‘Wanderer’—Hadjar mulled the word over in his head. It sounded quite pompous and yet it was no worse than ‘Prince’. In any case, it was more mysterious.
“How long have I been asleep for, Honorable Robin?”
“Just Robin,” the ‘old man’ corrected him with a slight reproach in his tone. “We’re common people here, we speak to each other without any formalities.”
“Ok.”
The Hercules nodded.
“Ten days. We even wanted to send for Gnessa. She’s our herbalist. A kind of scholar. We thought she could maybe cure you.”
Hadjar’s hunch was now confirmed. So, the neuronet wasn’t mistaken—he was indeed only nine days old now.
“Would it be possible for you to tell me where I am?”
“Of course, wanderer,” Robin continued to nod. “Everything’s possible. But you know my name, and I don’t know yours yet.”
Hadjar mentally slapped himself for his foolishness. He wasn’t used to offending people so easily. But, in his defense, he’d just experienced another rebirth, however weird that might sound.
“My name is Hadjar.”
The old man tilted his head to the side.
Hadjar rolled his eyes.
“Honestly, my name really is Hadjar.”
“You have a very simple name, wanderer.”
“You have no idea, Robin,” the Prince emphasized the old man’s name, “how often I hear that.”
The old man laughed, tugged at his beard with his mighty fist and, after going back out into the corridor, returned with a stool in his hands. It honestly wasn’t much smaller than Haver’s throne had been.
Robin shushed his dark-haired granddaughter that was peeking around the corner. She giggled while covering her mouth and then rushed off into the street.
The gust of wind that blew through the hut pleasantly tousled Hadjar’s newly grown hair. But something else was the cause of his joy.
He could hear his old friend’s voice again, calling to him, guiding him somewhere toward the east.
“Please, go ahead and ask your questions, wanderer Hadjar.”
“Where am I?”
“In my house,” Robin glanced around the room. “In my room. In the village…”
“Is the village yours as well?”
“No. I’m simply a hunter here. The chief asked if anyone had some room to spare. And I did. We must help people when we can, wanderer.”
“Indeed,” Hadjar agreed. Especially since he’d been one of these ‘people’ Robin was referring to.
“We found you in a cave by the lake that’s about a six-day walk from here.” Robin went on. “Once you regain your strength, don’t be surprised by all the people who’ll be whispering behind your back. There were never any caves near that lake. We pulled your body out of a rather unusual grotto. By the time we returned to the shore, the cave had disappeared again, covered in stones.”
Six days away? So the hunters had dragged him on their backs for days, putting themselves and others at risk.
“You should’ve left me behind.…”
Robin immediately frowned at that.
“I don't know what kind of people you've met before, stranger, but people from our village don’t behave in such a manner. Every person here sincerely believes that we need to look after everyone in our country. Otherwise, we won’t survive.”
“What about the army?” Hadjar asked, remembering that Primus would take people from the village and force them to work in the mine.
The old man took a moment to think about it and then laughed.
He laughed for a long time and quite sincerely, to boot.
His laughter made Hadjar bounce slightly. It wasn’t out of fear, but because the bed was shaking.
“What army, pilgrim Hadjar? Those rocks must have hit you on the head... The nearest town—which is Spring Town—is a month away on foot. And that’s assuming that you encounter no trouble going through the Woods.”
Spring Town—where the brothel ‘Innocent Meadow’ had been.
But... that’s impossible!
Even if he presumed that the fastest and most powerful river had carried him and he’d somehow survived it... he still couldn’t have gotten that far!
Unless, of course, Traves’ cave, where Hadjar had been found, had magically appeared near the lake.
“And which forest is this?” the Prince asked.
“Just a forest,” Robin shrugged. “There are mountains around it, just ordinary mountains. There are other villages as well. We trade with them sometimes. We live very peacefully here. We don’t disturb anyone; we just hunt, fish, work the fields and have children. We’re simple people, stranger Hadjar.”
He clenched his hands slightly as he said this. They were as thick as a young tree trunk, th
e skin as tough as tanned leather, and the veins looked more like ropes.
“What’s that, then?” Hadjar nodded at Robin’s hands. “Scars you earned plowing a field?”
“If someone with evil intentions tries anything, we don’t allow them to disturb our peaceful way of life.”
They stared at each other in silence for a long time.
Hadjar finally nodded and lay his head back on the pillow. He understood what Robin meant. In addition, his credo made it so he’d have to return the favor. These people had put themselves at risk by helping him for no reason other than to help him.
Hadjar wouldn’t be able to sleep properly if he didn’t thank them…
“Rest up. My granddaughter's name is Lida. She’s a good kid, a bit flighty but reasonable. Sleep well and recover your strength. I’ll introduce you to the others later.”
After that, Robin used the blanket to cover Hadjar and went out into the living room, gently shutting the creaky door behind him.
Hadjar was alone.
He lay there, staring out the window.
Some clouds were floating in the sky.
He didn’t find them irritating anymore. Probably because he was no longer so burdened. Hadjar could once again breathe deeply. Feeling alive for the first time in a long while, Hadjar got out of bed after two minutes.
He fell, but, gritting his teeth and leaning against the wall, he managed to somehow stand up on his wobbly legs. They barely obeyed him. He had to use all his strength in order to stand up straight.
Hadjar came to the door and opened it.
“Robin!” He shouted to the old man who’d gone outside. “Do you have two wooden sticks? I’m tired of just lying in bed! Can I help you with something? I'm not used to doing nothing.”
The old man turned around... and smiled warmly at him. He seemed pleased.
Chapter 23
Two people were standing on a covered bridge that connected two high towers in the Palace. A girl in a gold dress that fluttered in the wind was sitting on the railing. Her hair was the color of the midday sun and her beautiful face reflected her melancholy mood.
A tall young man stood beside her. His black hair lay across his shoulders. Heavy bracelets covered his wrists and, along with his blue, expensive clothes, clearly showed that he was someone important.
“I told you, Elaine, that’s what dad decided.”
“We can still ask him to change his mind!” The Princess insisted.
“Do you really think that’ll accomplish anything?!” He chuckled. The handsome young man was Eren, Primus’ son. “He’ll just end up giving me a lecture about what I need to do and what my duty is.”
“But he wants you to join the army.…”
“And what’s wrong with that? He doesn’t want me to be a scholar. He hates them. Considers them to be spineless worms.”
They looked at the garden. The nameless tombstone, illuminated by the sun, stood near the lake. They’d never liked it, but the King hadn’t allowed them to demolish it, no matter how much they asked.
“Everything will be fine, Elaine,” Eren approached his sister and hugged her tightly. “I'll be back soon, scarred and decorated.”
“And all the maidens will be yours!” The Princess smiled sadly, kissing her brother on the cheek.
“You'll find yourself a fiancé, too.”
“No, I won’t!”
Eren laughed and let go of his sister.
“It’s not normal for you to not even be engaged at your age.”
“It’s fine,” Elaine snorted. “Not like I could ever be interested in any of the local weaklings.”
“Should I bring you a general then, when I return?”
“And he’ll bring a heap of whores and concubines with him. No, thanks!”
“You’re too fussy!”
“You’re a fool!”
“Goldilocks!”
“Shorty!”
They argued jokingly for some time and then grew quiet. Their faces were caressed by the east wind.
Elaine covered her eyes slightly. The Palace would be even more lonely after her brother left. All she’d have to keep her company would be her dreams. A lonely figure often appeared in them.
It was a man, standing on a hill, his sword drawn, facing a thousand ferocious warriors fearlessly.
The figure was always as calm as the rocks beneath him. His clothes would flutter in the wind, a bottle tucked under his simple rope belt. Rags wound around his feet were the only shoes he had.
But despite all of that, the figure was majestic.
Like the rocks beneath him...
Elaine, for some reason, felt a kinship with this figure. It was strange, but she kept waiting for him to come, and each day, she felt that he was getting closer.
The Princess hoped that her wish would come true and her betrothed would come for her. The one who the heavens themselves had decided she would be with. She heard bits of his name sometimes, in the wind.
If she listened carefully, she could discern some of them,
“H....jar.”
***
“Add one more stone, please,” Hadjar asked the girl who had surprisingly bright, black hair. It was the color of a crow’s wing or a moonless night.
“Don’t you have a lot already, Bull?” Lida laughed.
She used a mechanism Hadjar had built, easily bringing over and putting one more flagstone on his back.
Hadjar grunted and continued to do pushups. He’d spent the last week in the village shocking the people with how rapidly he was recovering.
He’d been able to re-learn how to use his legs in just a week. With the help of long meditation, he’d gone further down the path of cultivation in this short period of time than during the five years he’d spent in the Palace.
His body responded to long, strenuous hours of exercise like it craved being pushed beyond its limits.
With six flagstones weighing twenty pounds each and Lida (who hardly weighed more than two of the stones) on his back, Hadjar did three hundred pushups.
Progress gained
Strength
+ 0.01
Physique
+ 0.07
The messages from the neural network motivated Hadjar even more.
“Look! Bull’s lifting Lida again,” the girls that were on their way to wash clothes in the creek laughed as they went past.
The locals didn’t call Hadjar ‘Bull’ because of his might. There were much stronger people than him around. Some of them could turn a cobblestone into sand by just squeezing it. Hadjar had personally seen Robin amusing the village children by doing that.
Hadjar got that nickname for his... inability to be helpful. The villagers knew he’d been ill and therefore didn’t condemn him for staying behind when everyone else was working in the field, crafting or helping the village in other ways.
The former Prince knew that it was wrong to not help them. He owed them his life, after all. And so, one day, he decided to help out in the rice fields.
It was a disaster. Hadjar had had no idea that rice was planted in the water in straight rows, without straightening ones back. That was why the Prince had managed to screw up something that, normally, would be impossible for someone to screw up.
The peasants thanked him for his eagerness to help and then hurriedly escorted him far from the field.
And when Hadjar tried to help the potters... well, it’s best not to mention that at all.
The Prince was allowed to work on his recovery, given a not too offensive nickname and never bothered again.
“One more... stone,” Hadjar croaked out while moving on to the next set of one hundred pushups.
“As you wish, Bull,” Lida laughed and, as if on purpose, got off him way too suddenly.
The Prince’s arms nearly buckled because of this. But he managed not to fall. He felt he was now in a better position than when he’d been training in the Palace.
And not because he’d been six then
, and was now almost nineteen.
No, it was his body... it had changed a lot. His instincts had become sharper, his vision had improved greatly, his reaction time was much faster, and his strength was noteworthy now. What most people would’ve achieved after many years of training, Hadjar had gotten after a bit over a decade of suffering and one lucky coincidence…
Lida dragged another stone onto his back and then sat on the pile.
“Is it true that you can play the Ron’Jah?”
“Yes,” he replied with difficulty.
“Will you play it for me?”
“In the e-e-evening,” he groaned out.
“Great!” Lida clapped her hands and jumped slightly. Hadjar groaned even louder at that, to the amusement of the people passing by.
He mentally ordered the system to show him his status.
Name
Hadjar
Level of cultivation
Bodily Nodes. 8th Stage
Strength
0.9
Dexterity
1.1
Physique
0.9
Energy points
0.7
Despite his love of tables, Hadjar acknowledged the convenience of the default setting, so he left it that way.
His characteristics had been growing at an astonishing rate... in the first few days of training. Now they were improving at a much slower pace. Hadjar was doing pushups, squats and running because he was anxious to get acquainted with his new body and its capabilities, not purely for the improvements.
“Wanderer,” the Prince discerned his ‘landlord’ through the sweat blurring his vision. “Would you like to fight?”
Stone Will Page 15