The Godking's Legacy

by Virlyce

  “You’re thinking bad things about me, Lucia.”

  No, I’m not. Stop reading my mind.

  “I can see it in your eyes.”

  What am I? A book? “I wasn’t. Really.”

  “She was.” Dammit, Bouncykins. Don’t side with him! “Make yourself heavier.”

  Just you wait, Bouncykins. I’m going to eat you one day.

  “I’m sure Lucifer is suggesting that for your own good,” Snow said. “Maybe he believes you can increase your training?”

  Is that it? “Hey, Durandal. When are you going to teach me how to actually use the sword?” All I’ve done is weight training and a bit of qi manipulation. I’ve gotten really good at circulating my qi—carrying mini-DalDal for a whole day doesn’t even make me tired anymore. Of course, I pretend that I’m exhausted; otherwise, Durandal would definitely increase his weight. That sadist.

  “You’re not ready yet,” Durandal said. He always says that. “When your body has been molded to wield the sword, we can start on techniques. You need a firm foundation to become a legend. A weak body will stray from proper form.”

  “Uh…. When will I be strong enough to start the basics?” Five hundred pounds isn’t enough? Seriously? Is he trying to turn me into a bodybuilder? My already pitiful chest is becoming even flatter. Won’t my body become like a man if I continue with Durandal’s training session? Well, I guess that would make Snow and me a cross-dressing duo…. No! I refuse to be a weirdo like Snow!

  “A ton,” Durandal said. “When you can wield me when I weigh a ton, then you’ll be strong enough to start practicing.”

  “No! Don’t you have more graceful techniques? Like, um, flowing water style or spring breeze style or even sword of love and grace and girliness, you know, something more feminine?”

  “Your qi clearly dictates your path as a brute,” Durandal said. “Training in anything else will require ten times the effort to achieve the same effect.”

  I looked at Snow. Couldn’t I become like him? His agility and feminine charm makes me jealous. I don’t know why he’s unable to dodge my attacks though. Well, that’s not important. “Hey, Snow. What are you training in?”

  “Don’t flutter your eyelashes like that,” Bouncykins said and snorted. “You don’t have the charm to pull it off.”

  That settles it. We’re having spirit rabbit for dinner tonight.

  “Don’t listen to him, Lucia. You’re beautiful,” Snow said and laughed. Why did his laugh sound so hollow? Why are his eyes so empty? Sometimes this duo really makes me mad. It’s no wonder why I beat them up daily. Snow flinched and took a step back. “Err, Lucia. Let’s put down the sword and discuss this like civilized beastkin, alri—!?”

  Thwack!

  Mm. The sound mini-DalDal makes when it hits someone is so satisfying. Ah, I almost forgot. “What were you training in? I didn’t hear you.”

  Snow blinked away tears. “I’m an assassin,” he said while clutching his head with his hands. “But Durandal is right. You’re really suited to be a brute!” His body moved strangely like he was made of smoke, and he vanished before I could smack him again. Darn. How dare he call me a brute? I’m a cute little squirrelkin girl.

  “I told you so,” Durandal said. Is it just me or did mini-DalDal get a little bit heavier? “Follow my training and you’ll become a legend.”

  The last time I followed you, I almost died of food poisoning. When are we going to arrive at the southern pass anyways? “Snow, stop hiding and come out. I’m not going to hit you. How much longer do we have to walk?”

  A pair of eyes and bunny ears appeared in a nearby bush. “Didn’t you hear the captain of the guard? He said it was twenty days away at a relaxed pace. We’ve been going slower than relaxed because of you. Maybe we’ll arrive in a month?”

  Well, excuse me. It’s not like you’re carrying five hundred pounds of fatness on your back, Mr. My Socks Make Me Run Faster. You think I like traveling this slowly?

  “You said you weren’t going to hit me!” Snow said. The eyes and bunny ears disappeared again. I guess I wielded mini-DalDal out of habit. Oops.

  “You’re awfully lively, Lucia,” Durandal said. “I think it’s time to increase my weight to seven hundred pounds.”

  Seven hundred!? Isn’t it supposed to be a linear increase!? Last time it went from four hundred to five hundred. Now we’re jumping straight to seven hundred? Is the next time going to be eleven hundred!? Ah. Mini-DalDal, you’re so small, yet you’re so fat. I’m going to die even with my qi.

  “How is it? Too light?” Durandal asked. Don’t give me that gentle smile, you sadist! And don’t you dare touch my ears! …Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you did. “By the time we reach the southern pass, I expect your foundation to be passable.”

  …I’m going to die. Or I’m going to become a manly woman. I don’t know which is worse. But if I did manage to fight with a two-thousand-pound sword, wouldn’t that make me stronger than most generals in the Ravenwood army? Is that really possible? I remember the first time I joined the army. We were being trained by a lieutenant—well, everyone else was, I was being used as a target dummy because, you know, beastkin—and a general came by. He wanted to check the new batch of recruits and had them all charge him at the same time. He won without even breathing heavily. I wonder what kind of hellish training he went through to become like that.

  “Why didn’t you give her any magic tools, Durandal?” Bouncykins asked. He was sitting on Snow’s head, and Snow was sitting in a tree. Aren’t our roles a bit reversed? I’m the squirrel. Wait. Magic tools? Durandal had those? My finger traced the rusted bird in my pocket.

  Durandal avoided my gaze and cleared his throat. He took his usual lying pose—head held high, chest out, arms folded in his sleeves, back straight—and said, “Shortcuts ruin foundations. If I let her use magic tools now, she’ll become reliant on them.”

  What a liar. “He didn’t know what magic tools were until he saw my fire array!”

  “Huh? Huh!?” Bouncykins’ mouth fell open. “Really, Durandal? Really?” The rabbit laughed and thumped his feet on Snow’s head. “How can you not know what a magic tool is? Your owner practically invented them!”

  Hah. How does it feel to be embarrassed, Durandal? Ah. He’s going to kill me for this, isn’t he? I think mini-DalDal just became a hundred pounds heavier.

  “L-Lucifer,” Snow said. “I don’t think you should make fun of Durandal.” He bit his lower lip. “He looks really scary.”

  “No. Forget it,” Durandal said. He wasn’t mad? “It’s true that I don’t know anything about the world that happened in the last eighty years.”

  “You didn’t know anything about the world before that too, you sword maniac!” Bouncykins laughed even harder. He used his ear to wipe away the tears in his eyes and stifled a giggle. “I can’t wait to see your reaction when you get your ass kicked by magic. The era of spirits is over. Magic is all the rage nowadays.”

  “Then what about you?” Durandal asked.

  “Snow can use magic,” Bouncykins said and smirked. I didn’t realize rabbits could even smirk with their mouths the way they are. “And he has an abundance of magic tools. Well, had. We still have to recover them. Even I am a semi-magical tool now. I was inscribed with a fleet foot spell.”

  “Hey!” Only I can make Durandal feel bad, you stupid bunny. “Durandal is more amazing then you. Look at this!” I swung mini-DalDal against the earth. The ground exploded from the sheer weight of the sword. “See that? That’s what seven hundred pounds can do.”

  “Eight hundred,” Durandal said.

  What? So it really did increase again? “Then eight hundred pounds. Now imagine if it were a ton!” Wow. I think I realized why Durandal wants me to become a manly squirrelkin girl.

  “Yeah, sure. That’s impressive,” Bouncykins said and rolled his eyes. “Now what do you do if an archer shoots a lightning bolt at you from a mile away with a magical bow?”

  “
Kick his ass! Durandal’s the greatest. I won’t ever let him lose. There’s no way I can disappoint the Godking’s legacy.”

  ***

  I chewed on a roasted mushroom while Snow and Lucia slept. Bouncykins was being squeezed by Lucia, her drool drenching his ear. There was a defeated expression on his face. I don’t get why Lucia said these mushrooms were poisonous. There’s nothing wrong with them at all.

  I sighed, leaning against the tree, and stared up at the sky. The stars were still in the same place—Vera had taught me the names of the constellations while we kept guard at night. She was awfully smart for a spirit, but she did exist for way longer than I had. I’m sure I’d be just as intelligent if I lived for as long as her. Ignore the fact I’ve survived thousands of years in isolation.

  “The era of spirits is over.”

  Bouncykins words echoed through my head. That rabbit spirit might be an asshole, but he’s not a liar. If he said the era of spirits was over, then it was probably true, or at least, he thought it was. Had I become useless? No. I guess I always was, wasn’t I? It’s true that I can’t do anything except fight, but what meaning does that have when the world is at peace? Roland united the three warring kingdoms by tricking the younger generation of rulers. I wasn’t even necessary back then either. Could I even turn Lucia into a legend? Roland made me into a legend, not the other way around.

  “Durandal? What’s wrong?” Lucia sat up and tossed Bouncykins aside like a dirty napkin. He cheered and disappeared into Snow’s socks. “Is your stomach cramping? Didn’t I say those were poisonous?” She stared at the mushrooms roasting in the fire and the ones on my lap.

  “Why are you awake? The sun won’t rise for another few hours. Aren’t you tired from carrying me all day?” Even while she slept, I forced her to keep mini-DalDal on her back.

  “I didn’t feel right,” Lucia said and furrowed her brow. Her nose twitched as she muttered, “Maybe it was the mushroom smell.” She raised her head. “But anyway, what’s wrong? You look … sad.”

  I scooted over and made space for her to sit. She grabbed onto my arm and rested her head on my shoulder. I ran my fingers through her hair. “Do you know how a weapon spirit is formed, Lucia?”

  “Well, sure,” Lucia said. The fire crackled, and I retrieved my roasting mushroom. “When a person loves their weapon very, very much, they plant a spirit seed inside of it; some magic happens between them, maybe some sprinkles and stuff, and then poof! A weapon spirit appears. Right?”

  Well. I guess she wasn’t wrong. She could’ve explained it in a less ambiguous way though. “And do you know how a weapon spirit disappears?”

  Lucia sat up, her face turning serious for once. “You’re not going to die, right?” she asked and grabbed my hand. “I just found you. You can’t die.”

  The mushroom tasted bitter. “A weapon spirit dies when their spirit body is killed or when their core is destroyed. Or depleted.” My core was embedded in mini-DalDal’s hilt, covered by Lucia’s hand when she wielded me. She was right about the spirit seed—it grew into the core. Spirit seeds could be found everywhere. The ones that formed in places with abundant mana grew into stronger spirits. I was a crappy seed that Roland found growing between some weeds. I guess that just attests to Roland’s skill. How much more impressive would his legends have been if he had a top-grade seed in a sword made of top-grade materials?

  “Durandal…”

  “A spirit’s core can be refilled by their owner’s qi or spirit stones. If we hibernate inside our core, spirits can last for a long time. Do you know the average age of a weapon spirit, Lucia?”

  She bit her lower lip. “No. I don’t want to know. Stop talking.” She leaned against me again and closed her eyes. Her eyelids trembled.

  I retrieved the rest of the roasting mushrooms and munched on them. “Five years.”

  Lucia sat up and her hand flashed. My cheek stung. Did she slap me?

  “I said I didn’t want to know.” Why was she crying? I was the one who just got slapped.

  I ignored the feeling in my cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve lived for, Lucia?”

  “Stop!” She knocked the mushrooms off my lap and pushed me down to the ground. I didn’t resist. Her tears threatened to fall from her pooling eyes. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I’m tired, Lucia. Did you know weapon spirits can’t sleep? Even when we’re hibernating, our minds are conscious.”

  “I’m really going to be mad at you, Durandal.” Her nails dug into my shoulders, drawing blood. Why can weapon spirits even bleed?

  “You heard what Bouncykins said. The era of weapon spirits is over. How are you going to kick someone’s ass if they’re shooting lightning bolts at you from miles away? Even you can use magic with the assistance of a magic tool. Is there even a point of close combat anymore? I’ve become a relic of the past. Snow can take care of you—he’s much more useful than I am.”

  “Shut up!” Lucia screamed. Snow scrambled to his feet. White lights flashed and two daggers appeared in Snow’s hands, his head swiveling. “You said you were going to make me into a legend! You said you believed in me! No one’s ever told me that before! Do you understand!?” Lucia’s tears fell onto my face and burned my skin. Her hands pounded my chest. “I don’t care how useless you think you are! You’re everything to me!” She hung her head and sobbed. “I’m just a runaway slave. I can count the number of belongings I have on one hand. I won’t have anything left if you leave me, do you understand!?”

  She stood up and grabbed mini-DalDal’s hilt with a single hand. A vein bulged on her neck as she unsheathed the sword with one arm. I had lied to Lucia earlier—mini-DalDal weighed half a ton, not eight hundred pounds. “One ton. One ton is nothing!” Lucia shouted and swung mini-DalDal into the tree we were leaning against. Wind howled as the tree trunk shattered, the top flying off into the distance. “It doesn’t matter! I can do two tons! Ten tons! A thousand tons!” She fell to her knees and dropped mini-DalDal beside her. She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I don’t care how hard I have to work. I won’t pretend I’m tired when I’m not. I’ll stop slacking off. Just don’t leave me, Durandal. I need you.”

  So she was pretending. I knew it. I sat up and leaned over, bringing her into my embrace. “Silly, Lucia. When did I ever say I was going to leave?” I hadn’t said anything about leaving at all.

  “Promise?” Lucia asked with a sniffle.

  “Promise what?”

  “Promise me you won’t leave, you bastard,” Lucia said and grabbed my face, stretching my cheeks.

  “I pwomise.”

  Lucia let go of my face and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Good.”

  I picked up a mushroom that fell near the fire and ate it. It tasted sweet.

  ***

  Why would Durandal say something like that? Now I can’t sleep. He promised he wouldn’t abandon me, so everything’s good now, right? Ah, I don’t want to think about it. It looks like Snow can’t sleep either. And Durandal and Bouncykins could never sleep in the first place, so I guess that’s fair. Not! “Hey, Snow.”

  “Huah!? L-Lucia?”

  Oops. I guess Snow was asleep. “Why do you dress like a girl?”

  “Because I’m beautiful.”

  …Did he just indirectly call me ugly because I dress in armor like a guy?

  “L-Lucia!? You’ll strain your back if you hold your sword like that!”

  “Just because you’re beautiful doesn’t mean you have to dress like a girl.”

  Snow cleared his throat and backed away, sliding his blanket along the grass. “Well, as you can see, I really look like a girl. So why not accentuate my looks? It throws people off guard and makes them easier to manipulate.”

  Manipulate? Oh, right. I almost forgot Snow was the leader of a gang. He really doesn’t act like one. Maybe that was his girly demeanor at work. “You shouldn’t manipulate people. It’s not nice.”
r />   Snow shrugged. “Get some sleep, Lucia. We have a long way to go tomorrow.” He rolled over onto his side and faced away from me.

  I can’t. No matter how much I want to sleep, I made a promise to Durandal. Let’s sit in the horse stance together, mini-DalDal. I just wish you were a little less heavy.

  “You really should get some rest, Lucia,” Durandal said from his seat by the fire. He was still munching on those poisonous mushrooms. I’m a bit jealous of his stomach. Why can’t I eat whatever I want?

  “I’m not tired.” That’s a lie, but I can’t let him down. I’ll just focus on circulating my qi into my arms. How heavy did Durandal say mini-DalDal was? Eight hundred pounds? You’re almost halfway there, Lucia. Once you reach a ton, Durandal will definitely be happier if he can teach actual techniques.

  “…Should I increase the weight then?”

  Why am I regretting my words already? And I’m going to regret this too. “Yes, but just by a little bit, please.” The next second, my arms nearly fell off my body as mini-DalDal dipped towards the ground. “That’s not a little!”

  “Don’t yell,” Durandal said with a smile. It was definitely a sadistic one. Pervert. Demon. “Snow’s trying to sleep.”

  If I can’t sleep well, then neither can Snow. …I’m not a petty person. What makes you say that? Hmm. What if, instead of circulating my qi to the parts of me that become sore, I decide to always fill every part of my body with qi constantly? Oh, it works? Will I run out? “Hey, Durandal. Where does qi come from?”

  “From your dantian.”

  “My what?”

  “…”

  Don’t look at me like that. How the heck am I supposed to know what I dantian is? “I’m serious.”

  “It’s a little ball inside of you that’s slightly underneath your belly button.”