Clad in the full armor of the Banished Knight, Lucian pushed open the door and stepped into the chill morning air. His destination lay at the rear of Castle Morne — the nearest Site of Grace. The other two blessings were across the lift, and far less convenient.
What Lucian did not know was that shortly after his departure, Irina, supported by a maid, made her way toward his guest chamber.
She had bathed and changed, trading her travel-stained garb for a robe of soft spring green. The delicate gold-thread embroidery along its hem caught the light, lending her an air of noble elegance — a far cry from the bedraggled young woman he had rescued. Though Irina had always treated others with courtesy, she had never worn the aloof mask of a highborn lady. Now, however, she looked every bit the daughter of a noble house, her beauty unobscured.
The maid halted before Lucian's door. Irina reached out with her right hand, found the wood of the doorframe, and rapped lightly.
She wished to thank him properly for his aid. Without him, she would surely have been just another lifeless body by the roadside, never to return to Castle Morne or be reunited with her father. Whatever Lucian might ask as a reward, she had already resolved to agree — and if the matter lay beyond her own authority, she would petition her father on his behalf.
Knock. Knock.
No answer.
Knock. Knock.
Still nothing.
"Sir Lucian? Are you within?" she asked softly. Perhaps he slept — after all, the battle had been fierce. Yet she could hear no breathing within.
Irina bit her lower lip, torn between lingering and leaving. After a moment's hesitation, she turned away, disappointment clouding her features, and departed with the maid.
By then, Lucian was already kneeling at the Site of Grace behind the castle.
He removed his helm — a habit of his. It felt discourteous to speak to Melina through steel. As he sat, the familiar shimmer of golden light heralded her arrival.
Her eyes swept over him, lingering on the Banished Knight's armor. "A fine and sturdy set," she remarked. "With this, your battles will be far safer."
Lucian nodded in agreement. The armor was indeed superb — heavy plate that somehow allowed for surprising agility. No wonder the Champion of Castle Sol could wield the Ice-infused whirlwind dash and Lightning-infused stomp with such fluidity.
Melina extended her hand. "Take my hand. I shall bring you to the Roundtable Hold."
"Not yet," Lucian replied. "First, I wish to convert my runes into strength."
He placed his gauntleted hand into hers. At once, Melina's brow furrowed in surprise — she could feel the vast reservoir of runes within him.
This puzzled her deeply. The Leonine Misbegotten of the castle could not have yielded so much. Nor had the lesser misbegottens carried such bounty. Where had he obtained them? She had been by his side for every battle, save for the brief time when he had bathed in private.
Was it then? she wondered. No… Everyone has their secrets.
He had trusted her from the beginning, treating her not as a mere partner in a bargain, but as a companion — even as a second maiden. If he could trust her so, then she could return that trust. There was no need to pry into a comrade's mysteries.
"Melina? What's wrong?" Lucian's voice broke through her thoughts.
She shook her head. "Forgive me — I was distracted. Tell me, which aspects of yourself do you wish to strengthen?"
Lucian was about to recite his planned allocation when he noticed something strange on his status screen — his Endurance and Strength had each risen by one point on their own. Previously they had stood at eleven and fifteen; now they read twelve and sixteen.
Melina smiled faintly, as though reading his thoughts. "Congratulations. Your endurance and strength grew during battle."
Lucian thought back to the fights. He had been pushing his body to its limits. Such growth, after recovering, was only natural. Even ordinary soldiers gained strength through exertion — so why not a Tarnished?
"Will these self-earned increases cost more runes when I level up?" he asked. If so, it could disrupt his carefully planned progression.
"No,"Melina said. "Attributes gained through your own effort do not increase rune costs."
That was a relief.
Lucian began his allocation:
Vigor up by six points, to twenty-five — a solid foundation for survival.
Endurance up by four points, plus the one earned in battle, for sixteen total.
Strength up by four, plus one from battle, reaching twenty-one.
Dexterity up by four, to eighteen.
Eighteen total points spent, leaving him with a surplus of over three thousand runes. In game terms, he had leapt from level fifteen to thirty-two in one stroke — and with the two bonus points from battle, his actual attributes matched those of a level thirty-four warrior. His power had doubled.
This was no random spread of points. Every choice had purpose. Vigor was a given — no warrior worth the name left it below forty in the long run. Endurance was needed to bear the Banished Knight's heavy armor. Strength and Dexterity opened the door to a vast arsenal — from colossal blades to weapons like the Bloodhound's Fang, which required both in equal measure. The broader the weapons he could wield, the more adaptable his tactics.
Intelligence, Faith, and Arcane? For now, unnecessary — though if Intelligence truly meant intellect, he might have been tempted to max it first. Sadly, here it was only a measure of magical aptitude.
Lucian flexed his fingers, feeling the strength flow through them. Then he looked to Melina and smiled with quiet confidence.
"All right, Melina. Take me to the Roundtable Hold. I want to see how I measure against the heroes there."
Her answering smile was warm. "I believe that among them, you will shine brightest of all."
------------------
[T/N: Lucian's Stats]
Vigor 25
Mind 10
Endurance 16
Strength 21
Dexterity 18
Intelligence 9
Faith 9
Arcane 7
[If I messed up any of the stats, please let me know—I'm a bit clumsy and might've mixed something up.]