Ethan lay sprawled on the dirt, gasping for breath and feeling like his entire body had been folded into origami. Bruises bloomed across his arms, and his ribs throbbed with every shallow inhale. Arthur, standing over him with arms crossed and that same maddeningly calm expression, finally gave a nod of approval.
"That's it for now," Arthur said, turning away as the sky dimmed to a warm orange. "Sun's setting. Go take a bath. Have dinner. You earned it."
Ethan groaned as he tried to push himself up on one elbow, only to flop back down with a wince.
"I think I might need... a doctor." Ethan muttered
Arthur laughed a big, booming, dad-at-a-barbecue kind of laugh. He reached down and slapped Ethan's back, nearly sending him face-first into the ground again.
"You're a Kingmaker now, boy! Natural healing, some resistance to pain, and a lot more stamina than you think," Arthur said, grinning. "If you were still the same as when you arrived, you'd be dead ten times over by now."
Ethan's eyes widened, and he slowly turned his head to look up at Arthur. "Eeeeehhhhh...?"
Arthur kept walking, still chuckling to himself, leaving Ethan groaning in disbelief, half-wondering what kind of monster he'd just become and how many more punches it would take before he started bouncing back faster than he bruised.
Arthur suddenly stopped, then called out, his voice sharp but casual.
"Carter."
As if summoned from the shadows themselves, Carter appeared behind Ethan without a sound, his presence smooth and ghostlike, but with the unmistakable dignity of a man who always knew exactly where he should be.
"Assist the boy," Arthur said, waving a hand. "Give him a shoulder to lean on."
Carter gave a refined bow, one hand over his chest. "As you wish, Lord Arthur."
He stepped forward, crouching slightly to offer Ethan his arm.
Ethan blinked up at him, still in disbelief. "You again...? Were you hiding behind a tree this whole time...?"
Carter didn't answer, just smiled faintly, like a butler in on a joke he'd never explain.
With Carter's help, Ethan made it back to his room, every step a reminder of the intense beating he'd just endured. Carter guided him with effortless grace, then helped him onto his bed with a smooth, practiced motion.
"I shall take my leave," Carter said, bowing slightly.
"Please don't forget to head down for dinner after your bath. It's important to replenish what you've lost."
Ethan gave a tired nod. "Yeah... right. Food. Got it."
Carter offered one last polite smile and gently closed the door behind him.
Ethan took a moment to glance around. His room looked almost untouched and immaculately clean. A fresh set of clothes, neatly folded, waited on the edge of his bed. He checked the wardrobe and found it stocked with an extra change of clothes too someone had clearly been in while he was out getting pummeled.
He let out a slow exhale, immediately regretting it as his ribs protested. His entire body ached, and even just turning his neck made him wince. He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at his arms, bruised and scuffed.
Am I really going to heal faster now? Is that actually a thing? Or did Arthur just lie to keep me from collapsing in the dirt forever?
As the doubt curled in his thoughts, a familiar voice echoed from the depths of his mind.
"If you're done whining, maybe try shutting up for five seconds. It's irritating."
Ethan flinched, his heart skipping a beat. "Oh right. You."
He'd almost forgotten. There was something, someone inside him now. Not just a presence, but a fully sentient being, bound to him as part of this Kingmaker deal.
"You again," Ethan muttered, staring at the floor. "Could've said something earlier when I was getting used as a punching bag."
"Tch. Release me."
Ethan blinked. "...Huh?"
"Summon me. Into a weapon. I need to breathe."
Ethan frowned suspiciously. "Why? So you can cut me in half by accident? Yeah, no thanks."
"HUUUUHH??!! If I wanted to cut you, I would've sliced you up the moment I was assigned to you. Back when you were still on your little Earth, remember?"
Ethan's jaw dropped. "Wait, you know I'm from Earth?"
"Duh? Of course I know. I literally talked to you."
"Talked, to me? What do you mean 'talked'?"
"Ugh, whatever. Just summon me already. It's suffocating in here!"
Still skeptical, Ethan raised his hand awkwardly. He had no idea what he was doing, but instinct guided him. A faint shimmer flickered in the air, and with a soft shing, the familiar, rust-covered form of a dagger materialized in his grip.
"Finally," the voice said, sounding like it could breathe again. "Just leave me on the bedside table or something. I need air."
Ethan stared at the weapon. "You're rusty. Why do you need air?"
"Don't question it. Just do it."
With a tired sigh, Ethan carefully laid the dagger on the bedside table.
"I'm going to take a bath," he mumbled.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Ethan dragged himself toward the bathroom, still unsure if he was sharing his soul with an ancient spirit, a warrior of legend or just the world's most annoying dagger.
The bath was warm, thankfully. As Ethan lowered himself into the water, the aches in his muscles turned from sharp to dull throbs. He leaned back with a groan, letting the steam relax what remained of his energy.
His eyes drifted to his right shoulder and there they were. Faint, but still visible: dark marks that wrapped like ghostly manacles. The imprint of chains.
He stared at them for a moment, water rippling around his chest.
What were those? Part of the summoning? Something else?
A shiver ran through him, though the water was warm.
After soaking for a while, Ethan eventually pulled himself out and dried off, grateful for the clean set of clothes waiting on his bed. He slipped into them slowly, each movement cautious.
Just as he was adjusting his collar, the familiar voice cut in again.
"Hey. Pick me up."
Ethan turned to the bedside table. The dagger sat there, looking as rusty and unimpressive as ever.
"Why?"
"I want to eat too."
Ethan blinked. "You… eat?"
"Obviously. Now move it, I'm starving."
Ethan sighed, grabbing the dagger with one hand. "This better not mean you're going to eat my food."
"Relax. Just carry me. I'll explain later."
With his mysterious, apparently-hungry dagger in hand, Ethan stepped out of his room limping slightly, but cleaner, dressed, and a little more confused than ever.
Still a bit sore but cleaned up and dressed, Ethan headed down the hall toward the dining room, the dagger in hand. His steps were still uneven, his bruises complaining with every shift of weight, but he made it.
As soon as he entered the dining hall, the warm scent of roasted meat and seasoned vegetables hit him. At the long wooden table, already seated and eating, were Ceris, her grandmother, and Arthur, who sat at the center.
Arthur looked up, fork still in hand. "You're late. Hurry up and sit. Eat."
Ethan froze for a second, suddenly aware of how awkward this felt.
There was Ceris.
Their first impression hadn't exactly been friendly. She'd nearly run him through when they met, and Ethan could still feel the echo of her suspicion.
As he walked toward an open seat, he could feel Ceris's eyes following him sharply. She didn't say anything, but the slight frown on her face said more than enough. Like she was still trying to figure out whether he was trouble or just useless.
Ethan gulped and clutched the dagger a little tighter, not sure if his Ego weapon's appetite would be the most dangerous thing at this table.
He took his seat quietly, trying not to look too awkward, but the moment he sat down, the dagger in his hand suddenly shifted. A faint clink echoed as a thin, spectral chain slithered out from the hilt, coiling swiftly around his arm.
"Ow !" Ethan flinched as a sharp sting hit his forearm, subtle but startling.
What the hell are you doing?! he thought.
"Connecting to your system," the weapon replied casually. "We're sharing taste and nutrients. I'm eating too."
Ethan stared down at the dagger, now lazily wrapped around his forearm like a sleeping serpent.
You couldn't just say that before?
"I did. You just didn't listen."
He reached for a slice of roasted meat, placed it on his plate, and was about to grab some vegetables when
"NO! Not that one! That's disgusting!"
Ethan blinked. ...What?
"I want the juicy meat! Get the one with the fat still sizzling. That weird green thing looks like sadness on a stalk."
Ethan paused, hand hovering over the steamed vegetables.
You're seriously a picky eater?
"Obviously. I'm not eating whatever bland leaf that is. I need rich taste. Something bloody. Juicy. Seared."
Ethan sighed, carefully avoiding the veggies and grabbing another chunk of meat instead.
"Better. See? You're learning."
This is going to be the longest dinner of my life, Ethan thought, chewing quietly while Ceris continued to glare.
And so, surrounded by nobles and warriors, Ethan sat with bruises on his body, a rusted dagger wrapped around his arm and a nagging voice in his head criticizing his plate like a spoiled gourmet.
Arthur set down his fork with a casual clink and turned his gaze to Ceris.
"So, Ceris, how are your lessons going? Politics, negotiation... that sort of thing."
Ceris froze mid-bite, her eyes briefly widening before she forced a smile.
"It's... fine. Yeah, I'm doing great. In fact."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Really? Is that so?"
Ceris nodded quickly, her smile twitching.
Arthur hummed, clearly unconvinced. "Maybe I'll ask Lillia about it later."
Ceris nearly choked on her food. "No! I mean there's no need to do that! Really! Everything's going just fine!"
Arthur leaned back with a smirk and took another sip of his drink. "Mhm. We'll see."
Ethan kept chewing, pretending not to notice the tension across the table.
His dagger muttered in his mind again.
"Tell her to pass the meat platter. The one with the roast. Not the weird leg bone thing."
Time passed. Ethan was utterly exhausted mentally and physically. After dinner, he dragged himself back to his room and flopped onto the bed.
He set the dagger on the bedside table, noting how still it was now, almost like it had already fallen asleep before he had. With a final sigh, Ethan closed his eyes and let sleep take him, too tired to think anymore.
The next morning, Ethan awoke with a start. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling, blinking at the unfamiliar designs of the wooden beams above. He sighed. Somehow, he had accepted it he really was in another world.
A knock came at the door.
"Master Ethan," Carter's voice called. "You are being summoned to the training area by Sir Arthur."
Ethan groaned, immediately flashing back to yesterday's brutal 'training'. He hesitated, but then sat up, rubbing his face. "Tell him I'll be there... just give me a minute."
He splashed water on his face and fixed his messy hair. As he reached for his dagger, it growled from the table.
"Tch... do you always wake people up this early?"
Ethan blinked. "You're not even a person."
"Then stop treating me like one and let me sleep."
Ethan smirked and pocketed the grumbling blade. Carter led him once more through the halls.
When they reached the training hall, Ethan saw Arthur already waiting. Ceris and Lillia were in the middle of a fast-paced duel, their blades clashing with precision and force. Ethan felt a wave of insecurity wash over him.
(Am I going to have to spar with her...? Please no.)
Arthur turned to him. "You're late. Next time, be here earlier."
Ethan nodded sheepishly.
Arthur crossed his arms. "Today's agenda: physical training. The core of all strength. Ten push-ups. One hundred sit-ups. One hundred squats. And a ten-kilometer run."
Ethan blinked. "Wait... I've heard that somewhere before."
"This is your foundation," Arthur said, voice shifting into instructor mode as Ethan dropped into his first push-up. "Like I said Kingmakers have enhanced endurance, healing, and strength. But don't think it's automatic. It's not magic. You still have to earn it. That power needs a vessel to shape it."
Ethan struggled through the push-ups, already shaking by the seventh one.
Arthur continued, walking around him. "You want to be strong? You want to help your Candidate? You want to survive in this world? Then build the body that can hold power."
Ethan wheezed. "I get it...! You're... like a fantasy boot camp coach."
Arthur clapped his hands. "No pain, no gain! Let's move!"
The sun rose higher as Ethan's sweat began to soak his shirt, every muscle in his body screaming.
And training had just begun.
Meanwhile, Ceris had finished her spar with Lillia and wiped the sweat from her face. Spotting Ethan, she approached with an interested expression, clearly intending to test him.
Before she could say a word, Lillia grabbed her ear and started dragging her off. "Time for food and then more lessons."
"Ow hey! Lillia! I wasn't gonna kill him, I just wanted to– OW!"
Ethan barely survived the training session, collapsing to the ground and gasping for breath.
"Alright," Arthur clapped his hands. "Time to eat."
They made their way to the dining hall, but Ceris had already finished her meal and was nowhere to be seen.
"Oooh, what's on the menu? No vegetables this time," Dagger said eagerly, twitching in Ethan's grip.
As they sat down and began to eat, Dagger made exaggerated moaning sounds of joy when meat hit Ethan's tongue.
Arthur glanced at Ethan between bites. "After this, come back to the training area. Interact more with your ego weapon. Learn what he can offer. Get to an understanding. That's part of being a Kingmaker."
Ethan nodded slowly, unsure of what kind of understanding he could form with something so... mouthy.
Dagger let out a loud belch in his mind. "This is the life."
Ethan sighed. "This is gonna be a long day..."
Arthur wiped his mouth with a cloth and stood, his posture calm and commanding. "I'll be in my office. If anything happens, call for Carter."
With that, Arthur turned and exited the dining hall, leaving Ethan and Dagger to their meal.
Ethan sat in silence for a moment, watching his plate as Dagger hummed happily in his head.
"Mmm. That meat... now that's what I'm talkin' about," the dagger muttered with deep satisfaction. "No regrets. Ten outta ten."
Ethan stabbed at a piece of bread with his fork. "I'm starting to regret bringing you along."
"Don't lie to yourself," Dagger replied smugly. "You'd be lost without me."
Ethan didn't respond. He stared at the plate, then at his own hands still shaking faintly from exhaustion.
A civilian from Earth. A sarcastic blade. A world of kings and killers.
He exhaled through his nose and stood, dragging his chair back with a groan. "Let's go figure out what you can actually do, Loudmouth."
"Name's Dagger, thank you very much."
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we're definitely gonna need to work on that too."
He left the hall with the ego weapon in hand, shoulders sore, stomach full, and a day of strange bonding ahead.
Somehow, this was his life now.
And strangely... it was starting to feel real.
Ethan headed back to the training grounds. When he arrived, Carter was already there, standing elegantly beneath a shaded post.
"Sir Ethan," Carter said smoothly, "I have been instructed to observe and intervene only should anything unusual or dangerous occur."
Ethan looked at him, then glanced down at the dagger in his hand.
"Yeah... that sounds about right."