Arthur stayed where he was, his feet planted firm in the damp earth, but his breath was uneven and his arms were trembling. The pounding in his skull hadn't stopped, but it was beginning to fade enough that he could focus. Sweat rolled down the side of his face. He blinked it away and looked up the hill just as Brant and Ulric came through the brush.
They were breathing hard but moving fast, both of them red in the face and not slowing down. Brant was slightly ahead. His eyes were locked straight on Arthur with a look that didn't leave room for misunderstanding; it was the kind of look that suggested 'you're fucking dead'. Ulric followed close behind, quieter than his brother, but the way he clenched his jaw told Arthur that he wasn't going to play the calm one.
Arthur took a step back without meaning to. His foot slid in the grass, but he caught himself and raised his hands a little, not in any kind of fighting stance, just a gesture to show he wasn't looking to throw punches right away.
"Look fellas," he said, a little louder than he expected. "Can we not do this?"
That made them stop. Not fully, but enough to plant their feet and stare at him. The pause gave him a few seconds to think, though not much more than that.
"I mean, really," he said, trying to slow his breathing. "I can't be that important. You caught up to me, you scared the shit out of me, we're all worked up, why not just call it even?"
Neither of them answered. Brant kept glaring. Ulric shifted his weight but didn't take his eyes off Arthur.
Arthur forced out a small laugh. "It's not like I planned any of that. I didn't even start it. Honestly... it wasn't even my idea."
Still no reply.
Arthur scratched the back of his neck and looked between them. "It was hers," he said after a second, keeping his tone even. "She's the one who—"
He didn't get to finish.
Brant's face twisted like something in him had snapped, and Ulric immediately stepped forward. "You're really gonna stand there and blame her?" Brant spat. "After sneaking into our home and fucking her behind our backs, you're going to say it was her idea?"
Arthur didn't answer. His mouth had gone dry. Foot meet mouth.
Ulric's voice came in quieter than his brother's, but there was much more anger behind it. "You think you can humiliate her and walk away?"
Arthur held his hands a little higher. "I'm not trying to humiliate anyone. I just—"
Brant cut him off. "No. Shut your mouth. You're not talking your way out of this."
"I wasn't—"
"We're going to knock your teeth out and bury you right here in the field."
Arthur flinched. "You're not serious."
Ulric took another step forward. "Oh we are very serious and if our father was here you'd be in for a much worse time so be thankful it's just us."
Arthur glanced between them and took half a breath before he blurted it out. "Listen, you have to believe me. Elsie was the one who wanted sex from me. I was just delivering milk and eggs." The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted it. It sounded stupid. Even he heard it and thought it sounded like something a liar would say. He saw the way their expressions twisted immediately, like a fresh wound had just opened.
Both of them growled at once, stepping forward now with full intention of smashing his face in. "As if we'd believe something like that," Brant spat. "A beautiful girl like Elsie giving the time of day to you?"
Arthur started to reply, but Ulric cut in instead, his voice rising with pure fury. "You tricked her somehow. You must've fed her something. Took her wits away. That's the only way someone like you ends up in bed with our sister."
Arthur blinked. That one actually stung. He didn't consider himself much of a looker, but the way they said it, it was like he was a beast that'd clawed its way out of the dirt. "Ouch..." he muttered to himself.
Then Brant twisted the knife. "Even Big Richard's a better match than you."
Arthur blinked again. "What? Big Richard? The village idiot?" Neither brother responded, but Arthur wasn't about to let that slide. "The same Big Richard who still wets himself and tried to eat a candle during the feast?"
He threw his hands up. "Alright, that's it. Fuck being diplomatic."
Arthur's voice rose as he stepped forward, some reckless part of him taking over. "Well guess what, your sister was begging for me!"
They froze.
"We didn't just do it once," Arthur continued. "We did it twice."
That earned a full second of silence. Brant's brow twitched. Ulric looked at his brother.
Arthur saw their reaction and, against every instinct of survival, doubled down. "That's right," he said. "You heard her. Come and see me again, Arthur," he added in a high, mocking tone, imitating her voice. "Couple months, maybe I'll be your good brother." He could practically feel the tension in the air snap like a rope breaking under strain. And then, right there, Arthur's brain finally caught up to his mouth. It grabbed control back with both hands, screaming internally at the damage he'd just done. His whole body froze as he realised, he had just made this situation a hundred times worse.
_____________________________
[Emergency Quest Received]
TWIN TROUBLE
Description:
You fucked the tanner's daughter.
Now her brothers want to skin you alive.
They're coming and you're outnumbered.
This isn't about pride.
This is about survival.
Objective:
– Survive the encounter with Brant and Ulric Tanner
Bonus Objective:
– Defeat both brothers
Reward:
– +1 Dexterity
– Otherworld Token
– 100 XP
– +5 Shibukawa-ryū Jujutsu
Failure:
– Death
– Or worse: Maiming, humiliation, and lifelong mockery
_____________________________
"Shit..." Arthur muttured.
Brant didn't even say anything this time. He just launched forward. Ulric moved with him.
"Let's get him," one of them shouted.
Arthur barely had time to throw his hands up before Brant slammed into him. The impact wasn't clean. Arthur had stepped back and twisted just enough that instead of taking the full brunt to his chest, the force pushed him sideways and off balance; the Shibukawa-Ryu, influencing his movements to a certain degree. His shoulder hit the dirt hard and he rolled. The ground tore at his arms as he scrambled back to his feet, his legs already shaking. At least it didn't hurt as much as it could've, he considered using the [Novocaine] skill, but he wouldn't go that far unless he had no choice.
Ulric came in next, his boots thudding against the soft ground, one fist raised, the other cocked back. Arthur's instincts flared. He didn't have time to think. He shifted his weight, leaned back on his right leg, and let his left hand sweep across Ulric's wrist just as the punch came down. He twisted his hips with the motion, using what little knowledge he had gained from the novice skill. Ulric's momentum carried him forward just enough for Arthur to redirect it off-line, not enough to throw him but enough to make him stumble past.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Brant shouted, circling him. "Fight like a man!"
Ulric snarled, turning back, already charging again. "What is that stupid thing supposed to be?!"
Arthur didn't answer. He didn't even know how to explain it. The knowledge had poured into his head like water into a cracked jug, and most of it seemed instinctual, like he just knew how to do it. All he could do was rely on what his body wanted to do. Ulric came in with another swing, a wide hook that aimed for Arthur's jaw. Arthur ducked, stepped in, and grabbed the inside of Ulric's elbow with one hand while his other hand wrapped awkwardly around Ulric's wrist. He turned his hips and tried to twist the arm, aiming for a throw, but he didn't have the strength to pull it off clean. Ulric resisted and shoved him hard in the chest with his free hand. Arthur stumbled back again, landed on one knee, and coughed. Brant stepped forward now and kicked him in the ribs. Arthur cried out, rolled to the side, and just barely got up again before the second kick could land.
"You're pathetic," Brant spat. "Rolling around like a pig. Are you gonna squeal next?"
Arthur felt a pulse of anger but tried to push it down. Getting angry wasn't going to help him now. He sucked in a breath and reset his stance again. Thigh his legs were shaking and he was leaning too much on his back foot. Ulric rushed him again, trying to grab him. Arthur saw it coming and stepped sideways. He reached out and grabbed the back of Ulric's shirt near the shoulder and yanked forward while turning his hips again. This time the throw almost worked. Ulric tripped over Arthur's extended leg and stumbled forward, hitting the dirt face-first. He grunted as he hit the ground.
Arthur didn't wait. He moved back quickly, eyes bouncing between both brothers. Ulric was already pushing himself up, face streaked with mud.
"You son of a bitch," he growled.
Brant roared and charged.
Arthur didn't have time to think. He stepped into Brant's swing again, raised his arms, and caught the punch with both hands. The impact jolted through his forearms, but he twisted with it, redirecting the force like he'd done with Ulric. Brant's arm flew past Arthur's chest, and Arthur stepped behind him, trying again for a shoulder lock. Unfortunately his grip slipped and Brant elbowed him hard in the ribs.
Arthur gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and his vision started to blur. He dropped to a knee, coughing again. He could taste blood in his mouth now. He pushed himself back up as Brant turned around, fury written all over his face.
"I'll break your fucking spine," Brant said, grabbing a rock from the ground.
Arthur's heart slammed in his chest. This wasn't a scuffle anymore. They weren't going to stop. He was either going to get out or he was going to be buried here. His breath hitched as his hands dropped to his knees. The ache behind his eyes had sharpened again, his ribs throbbed, and his stomach burned where Ulric's punch had landed. This wasn't working. He couldn't win just trying to use a novice fighting style that didn't even seem to include actual fighting. They were stronger. They were faster. But they weren't smarter. They were dumb brutes. 'Okay, use my head this time...' he thought.
He spun away from Brant's next charge, his foot digging into the mud as he turned and let the bigger boy stumble past him. Arthur grabbed the back of Brant's shirt just before he could regain his footing and yanked him sideways with all the strength he could muster. They were close to the treeline now. Arthur didn't hesitate. He slammed Brant's head forward and drove it straight into the trunk of a tree. There was a loud thud followed by an ugly crack. Brant dropped like a sack of flour, limbs folding under him as he slumped against the roots.
Ulric let out a sharp screech the moment he saw what happened and charged with both fists up, his mouth twisted with rage. Arthur didn't try to meet him directly. He stepped sideways, hands grabbing at Ulric's wrists and pulling, twisting, using the momentum again, not to throw this time, but to send him careening in the same direction as his brother. Ulric's shoulder smashed into the same tree and he let out a pained cry, staggering back with wide, glassy eyes.
Arthur didn't wait. He stepped in and threw a punch, all the weight of his aching body behind it. His fist connected with Ulric's jaw. The pain shot through his hand instantly and he winced, biting back a curse, but the impact was enough. Ulric reeled back, arms flailing, and Arthur followed through. He stepped in, lifted his foot, and kicked him hard in the back of the head while he was falling.
Ulric hit the dirt face-first and didn't get back up.
_____________________________
[Quest Complete]
TWIN TROUBLE
Rewards Gained:
– +1 Dexterity
– +1 Otherworld Token
– +100 XP
– +5 Shibukawa-ryū Jujutsu
_____________________________
Arthur stood there for a moment, hunched over and staring at both of them lying face down in the dirt. His chest was rising and falling so fast it felt like his lungs were scraping his ribs. He cursed under his breath, then dropped to his knees beside Brant and pressed two fingers under his nose. Still breathing. He quickly moved over to Ulric and did the same. Also breathing. 'Thank the gods.' He sat back and let out a shaky breath, only to jolt upright when Brant let out a low groan and started to shift. That was it. Time to go.
He scrambled to his feet, grabbed the leather bundle from where it had been flung in the dirt, and ran. His feet pounded out of Harrowfield and into the brush, away from the village and toward the path that curved back toward the farm. His legs were already sore but he didn't stop. He ran until he couldn't anymore, until his knees started to wobble and his arms felt heavy and his vision was getting a little blurry from all the sweat running down his face. He found a rock and dropped beside it, his chest still heaving.
He sat there and tried to take stock. He had just gotten caught balls-deep in the tanner's daughter. Then he got into a fight with both her brothers. Then he actually won. Somehow. They were still breathing, but he'd put both of them on the ground. And he was still alive. But he was also very, very screwed. His father was going to absolutely lose it. He'd either beat the living shit out of him, or worse, hand him over to the Tanners to smooth things over. Gods. But at least he still had the leather. He could still walk through the door and say he completed the job.
Then it hit him.
The cart.
He sat up straight, eyes wide. The fucking cart. He had left it. Sitting there right in the yard outside the Tanners' house. With the name his father had painted into the side in bold black letters. He slapped his own forehead so hard it made a sound. "You dumb fucking fool," he muttered. He couldn't go back now. There was no way those brothers weren't home by now. No way they wouldn't be waiting. And even if they weren't, their father definitely was. And if that man wasn't smashing the cart to pieces in a blind rage, then he was probably already locking it away just to spite him.
Arthur stared at the trees in front of him, then screamed. A long frustrated scream that echoed into the woods and came back to him like it was mocking him. He sat there for another minute, hands clenching into fists, then dragged himself up and leaned against a nearby tree. He kept breathing heavy and tried to calm down. He could try to sneak back at night, maybe, but even that seemed like a stretch. It was already a miracle he hadn't been killed. No way he was risking his neck again. Unless his father went back for it. That was a possibility. But if he did that, it'd mean Arthur was going to catch every bit of his fury. No excuses. No mercy. That cart had been in the family for years. It wasn't fancy, but it was theirs. And Arthur had left it behind like an idiot.
"Shit... shit shit shit," he said again. His hands went up to his hair and pulled, then he turned back to the tree and slammed his head into the trunk once, hard. "Get a grip," he hissed. "You're not weak anymore."
He pushed away from the tree and spat into the grass. No, he wasn't. He had the System now. He had leveled up. He had skills. He had beaten two stronger boys back-to-back. He had made it out alive and he still had what he came for. That had to count for something. He just had to keep going. Push harder. Get stronger. Figure it out.
He already had the tools to fix this.
Now he just needed a plan.
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STATUS MENU
────────────────────
Name: Arthur of Harrowfield
Class: Farmer
Heritage: Valyrian / Stormlands
Age: 16
Level: 2
Unallocated Stat Points: 0
Title(s): [None]
────────────────────
COMBAT ATTRIBUTES
────────────────────
Strength: 4
Dexterity: 4
Constitution: 6 (+4%)
Intelligence: 1
Perception: 2
Luck: 2
────────────────────
PERKS
────────────────────
[Comely]
You've got the kind of face that gets you smiled at flirted with and forgiven for things you probably should not be
[Sword Prodigy]
You wield a blade like it belongs in your hand faster learning speed tighter reflexes and better execution with swords
[Sharp Ears]
Your hearing is unnaturally acute you can detect faint sounds whispers movement even from across the room
[Blood of Valyria]
Your veins run silver and fire whether you earned it by birth or by bed the Old Blood knows its own
Grants heightened affinity with magic dragons and other Valyrian relics
Also makes you just a little bit more unhinged than you'd like to admit
────────────────────
NEGATIVE PERKS
────────────────────
[Weak Gut]
Low resistance to spoiled food rot disease and stress susceptible to nausea and vomiting
[Clumsy Fingers]
Fine motor skills are lacking you struggle with anything requiring delicate precision like lockpicking crafting or stitching
────────────────────
SKILLS
────────────────────
[Observe]
[Carpentry] (4/100) (Novice)
[Conditioning] (4/100) [+4% Constitution]
[Novacaine] (2/100)
[Cooking] (0/100) (Novice)
[Tracker] (0/100) (Legendary)
[Axe Mastery] (3/100) (Novice)
[Shibukawa-ryū Jujutsu] (5/100) (Novice)
[Carnal Knowledge] (2/100) (Novice)
────────────────────
(AN: So Arthur got caught and is now a little fucked. But he's got a plan, and he has the system helping him. Let's see if he can work his way out of this or end up being fucked over by nightmare mode. How will Mira react now that her brother has done the deed with another. Probably not well. Anyway hope you enjoyed the chapter.)
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