"Boy, have you gone mad? What did you promise nine months ago? Didn't you promise to run if you encountered danger? Not only did you not run, you went after the bandits. We were worried they might ambush you, and now we have to worry about you attacking bandits?"
We were now at Rodrik's quarters. When I returned to Winterfell, the guards informed Rodrik, and he learned what had happened. I had never seen him so angry; I felt as though my ears would start bleeding in another few minutes. He had been scolding me for an hour and wasn't tired at all.
His words reminded me of something from my previous life, when I was still a high school student. I had stolen the family car for a joyride and been caught by the police. When they brought me home, my father had scolded me just as angrily. I supposed Rodrik felt responsible for me because I had been training under his guidance all this time. He was doing this because he feared something might happen to me.
"Boy, are you listening to me?"
"Yes, I'm listening. While hunting in the forest, I saw bandits attacking a merchant's caravan and slaughtering those poor people. I was so angry that I lost my head for a moment and wanted to tear them all to pieces. At first, I took a step back. After thinking it over, I realized that if I could kill their archers immediately, I was strong enough to wipe them all out, and I was very confident of that. Killing them with a rain of arrows wasn't difficult. After all, they weren't trained soldiers. Once six or seven of them died, they scattered like cowards."
"I don't regret what I did. If I encounter something like this again, I'll do the same thing. I only regret one thing: not getting there fifteen or twenty minutes earlier and not being able to save those people."
At least, that's what I want you to think. Of course, I wasn't a monster. If saving others wouldn't have fatal consequences for me, I would do my best to save them, but I had no savior complex. I would never risk my life for complete strangers who had nothing to do with me.
As I said this, the anger on his face eased somewhat, and he was clearly struggling not to smile.
"If it wasn't dangerous at all, how did you hurt your hand? The healer said your fingers were broken and would take at least a month to heal."
"My broken fingers had nothing to do with the bandits. I hurt them through my own carelessness. I tripped while running through the forest and hit my hand against something hard."
(Rodrik's POV)
Every time I heard about this boy's exploits, I felt admiration. This time, he had dealt with eleven bandits using nothing but a bow.
"When did you get so good with a bow?"
The little fellow put his hands on his hips and spoke smugly.
"I've practiced archery for years, just as much as swordsmanship. Of course, you've never seen a genius like me, so it's only natural to be surprised. Ah, being a genius is so hard. I'm talented at everything I do. What can I do? It's my curse."
I didn't know when it had started, but the corner of my mouth was twitching, and a voice inside me was telling me to give this brat a resounding slap.
"You shameless brat, stop trying to act cute. When did you get so good at archery? I know you've been practicing, but I didn't know you were such a skilled archer."
"I'm telling you the truth. I'm a genius at everything I do."
I took a deep breath, slowly stood up, and walked over to him. Standing before him, I began to smile, then slapped the back of his head.
"Stop fooling around. I'm asking you a serious question."
He frowned as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Ow, I'm not fooling around. I'm giving you a serious answer. I'll prove it once my hand heals. To show you how good I am at archery, let me put it this way. You know I hunt ten rabbits in the forest every day, right?"
"So what? It's not just you. All the hunters kill ten rabbits a day, and they hunt bigger game too, like boars and deer."
"Yes, but they don't hunt the way I do. When I hunt rabbits and rats, I always scare them first so I have a small, fast target. If I didn't do that, what would be the point of hunting rabbits? I don't need the few coppers those rabbits earn anyway. You know I make sixty gold dragons a month from my deal with Lord Stark."
"I also recently learned why Lord Stark buys so many smoke bombs. He gives them to scouts and patrol soldiers. When they're ambushed or get into trouble, they can use them for a chance to escape or find a better position to fight from."
"Yes, that's no secret. Thanks to you, many soldiers have escaped situations that would otherwise have killed them."
What madman scared rabbits before hunting them with a bow? How many archers in Westeros could regularly hit an animal whose movements were so unpredictable and fast?
"Wait, I just realized something. Did you say you hunt rats too? Why would you hunt them?" I was definitely going to regret asking that question.
"Because rats are harder to hit. They're already timid, and when I scare them, they desperately run from one place to another. I don't find hunting rabbits challenging anymore. Rats are more fun, and sometimes I even miss. I usually hit ten out of ten rabbits, but with rats, I only average seven out of ten."
"What sort of monster are you? You're definitely not human. How can anyone be so good at everything?"
"What can I do? It's a gift from heaven. The god who brought me into this world made me this way."
(The protagonist's POV)
After Rodrik scolded me, I headed back to my room. Just then, Im poked his head out of my shirt and spoke in something like a whisper.
-Master, I'm hungry... Master, I'm hungry-
-You're hungry, huh?-
When I asked this, he began nodding.
-I want to hunt-
-Well, let's take a detour, then. Let me drop you off in the Godswood. You can find some prey there.-
Im and Berus had started talking four months ago, but they couldn't form complete sentences like Bo and Erebus. For now, they could only use simple expressions. I didn't know why. I wondered whether the ravens could speak like humans because they were more intelligent animals, or whether it had something to do with the twins having been my familiars for over a year.
When I bonded with the twins, I couldn't speak to animals yet. I only obtained that skill upon reaching level two, and it wasn't really speaking, either. Most animals weren't intelligent enough even to communicate among themselves, but I could use the skill to convey emotions and intentions to animals or receive theirs.
They had always been able to speak, if we believed the siblings, but I hadn't been able to understand them. My hypothesis was that a combination of both possibilities was responsible. The animals' natural intelligence definitely had an effect, but it was also a fact that they were beginning to grow as intelligent as humans over time.
After leaving Im in the Godswood, I started walking toward my room. I could see the soldiers and common folk around me watching me and whispering. News of what had happened must have spread to everyone. Everyone who had heard the story had a different look in their eyes. Some looked frightened, some disgusted, while some soldiers greeted me approvingly.
When I reached my room, I found Arya and Bran playing with Berus.
"Come on, Berus, come on, boy." She was trying to play fetch, but Berus wasn't participating. As I came a little closer, a childlike voice began echoing in my mind.
-No... no fetch... give, give stick-
It seemed Berus wanted to play tug-of-war. Arya managed to pull the stick from his mouth and threw it. "Come on, boy, come on, bring the stick back." Berus turned his head away as though offended, refusing to look at Arya.
-No fetch-
Just then, he saw me, and his eyes widened. He quickly ran toward me, jumping excitedly and darting back and forth around me.
-Master, master, master... play, play, play, play-
Suddenly, Berus's voice echoed through every corner of my mind.
"Berus, no... sit, listen to me, good! Good boy." He calmed down a little, and I began scratching the top of his head. He liked that, but he still kept muttering.
-Play... master, play-
His voice was no longer excited but more pleading, and he also made a sound like crying.
Ah, he was using a puppy's greatest weapon. With tears in his big eyes, he made pleading sounds as he flopped down at my feet.
Arya walked over, pouting.
"Aermir, why are you making Berus unhappy? Good boy... don't cry."
She began stroking Berus's head.
-All right, all right, I'll play with you. Go get a stick-
The moment I finished speaking, Berus stopped pleading and raced like lightning to fetch the stick Arya had just thrown.
-Master, master... stick, stick... take, take-
I took the stick from his mouth and threw it again. Berus immediately chased it and soon brought it back.
"Ah, why won't Berus play fetch with me, but he'll play with you?"
"I don't know. Maybe he likes me more."
Tugging Berus's cheeks, Arya said with feigned anger, "Berus, I'm the one who always brings you meat. Why don't you like me more?"
-Meat... meat... meat... meat... meat...-
The moment he heard the word "meat," he began sniffing frantically, sniffing everyone's hands in turn. Then he continued looking around for meat.
-Berus, there's no meat. Calm down.-
-No meat, no meat-
His voice sounded very sad.
"Arya, maybe he doesn't want to play this game with you because you've been playing nothing but fetch with him all morning?"
She seemed to suddenly realize what she had done and sighed.
"Look, there's a short knotted rope over there. That's Berus's toy. If you play tug-of-war with him using that, he might want to play with you."
While Arya went to get the rope, I played with Berus using the stick he kept bringing back. This time, I pretended to throw it but hid it behind my back. Berus seemed to start running at first, but when he couldn't see the stick, he looked ahead and then back at me. He looked very confused.
-Stick? No stick, master, no stick... master, stick?-
He began looking at me questioningly, but when he saw me hiding my hand behind my back, I thought he noticed. Then he gave a low growl and ran around me to check.
Seeing the stick behind me, he said angrily:
-Master hides stick, master throw-
After playing with Berus and the children for half an hour, I left Berus with Arya and entered my room. I was very tired today. Chasing those thugs had exhausted me physically and mentally. That was why I decided to go to bed early today. I wasn't in the mood to practice swordsmanship or magic.
Im sent me a message asking me to pick him up, but I didn't want to run all the way to the Godswood. So the Vocadyni (Summon Beast) spell teleported him here. When I used the spell while lying in bed, Im appeared directly above me and dropped onto my stomach.
Judging by the bulge in his belly, Im had eaten his fill, and because he usually slept beneath my pillow, he began slowly crawling from the top of my stomach to the underside of my pillow.
I slowly fell asleep as well. I didn't know how much time had passed, but I began having disturbing nightmares and suddenly sprang out of bed. The sun hadn't risen yet. I felt no regret or guilt at all about killing those bandits, but my subconscious must have disagreed with what I had done, because I kept seeing the terrified faces of the bandits I had killed.
I was completely wide awake, and it didn't seem that would change anytime soon, so I decided to practice magic. Because my hand was injured, I wasn't planning to leave the castle for a while. For now, I intended to train in the training space.
Over time, this area had expanded from four by four meters to twenty by twenty meters. First, I wanted to meditate to calm myself, so I sat down where I was and closed my eyes. Just as I began to feel peaceful, an unbearable pain struck my chest.
"Aaaaaah!"
I opened my eyes with a scream of agony and could hardly believe what I saw. A spear was embedded in the middle of my chest. I began to feel as though I were underwater and about to drown, but it wasn't water choking me. It was blood. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out except gasps and blood.
God, what unbearable pain. The pain left me unable to move or even think. Just then, a second wave of pain surged through me, this time from my right shoulder. This must be a nightmare. I must still be dreaming. I tried to open my mouth and scream, but nothing came out except a low moan.
A sword was embedded in my shoulder. My throat was full of blood, and because I couldn't breathe, I felt a burning unlike anything I had ever experienced. The pain from the weapons began to fill me, and only one thing echoed in my mind. Was this what death felt like?