Chapter 62

There was a knocking at the door. Sharp and insistent. Would’ve been annoying if I hadn’t been up for hours already. I’d hired a room in the local taverna, using my found gold pieces, which I’d examined the previous night.

[Shekels – Gold, quite unlike anything in future epochs. It glints and gleams. Money makes the world go round.]

The morning had been spent in the little yard behind the taverna, practicing with my newly forged copper blade. I was more than a little pleased to see that my efforts the previous night hadn’t just been extremely satisfying, they’d yielded real results. The copper sword was already +1, giving it an additional ten damage on top of its already decent fifty.

That meant theoretically it could do sixty damage from a single blow, enough to kill any vandal in two hits. Of course, things were never so ideal, with lots of things to consider. Damage resistance, sword thrusts that were not quite on point. But sixty damage? I’d take that to the bank and then some.

I knew from experience that with combat, there were more than hard stats that determined the outcome. Urin, the now vandal chief, had once dismantled me spear to spear despite my outlevelling him. It was only by using the sword that I could level up my sword proficiency.

So that’s exactly what I did. My target, an olive tree, which I slashed and thrust upon. There was something that stoked a fire in me to wield a sword. Don’t get me wrong, spear warfare had done me right in the Disputed Lands, and there was still the Spear of Midnight to wield, once I figured out what spirit was, and why I didn’t have any.

But here? In the Bronze Epoch, the charioteer class wielding a sword. I felt like Achilles himself.

The knocking continued, pulling me from my reverie, and I sighed. I couldn’t imagine who it would be. I hadn’t told Cyrus where I was going, and I had never even bothered to turn up at the taverna last night. I didn’t know who that woman was, but I wasn’t about to be judged by some NPC I didn’t even know.

She hadn’t even offered a quest. No quest, no loot.

No point.

I opened up the door to see a young man in a tunic, a little brown satchel around his shoulder. ‘Ah, it’s you!’ he said, digging into his satchel. ‘I’ve got something here. Supposed to be for your eyes only.’

I blinked. ‘And you are?’

‘Made quite the impact clearing out those bandits,’ he said, ignoring me completely. ‘Ah, here it is.’ He’d retrieved a little leather bound parchment wrapped into a scroll. I took it and he stretched.

‘Well, good day to you.’ He drew a little closer. ‘And let me say, I really hope it’s you.’ Smiling brightly, the courier sauntered off and knocked on the next door down from me.

‘Ah, it’s you!’ I heard him say, as I closed the door behind me. ‘I’ve got something here. Supposed to be for your eyes only.’

I unspooled the little sleeve of parchment. The words were written in an elaborate cursive, so much so I could barely read it, though that didn’t matter as my quest log immediately updated. I clicked on that, opening up my HUD and noting my character portrait with a hand to his jaw, appraising. He looked unsure, dishevelled even. His hair, well, my hair, was wild and tangled, my beard overgrown. Pretty normal for the Stone Epoch, but here in the civilised world of bronze, I looked more than a little wild.

Need to do something about that, I thought as my character portrait nodded with somewhat pleading eyes, as I clicked on the newly updated quest.

[The Labyrinth – The island of Crete welcomes you. A monster lurks here, and the Minoan King calls for a champion. He who lurks and stalks the land. Become the champion, free the island from its tyrant, and inherit the First of the Relics. Be swift. The Drenched rise, and all stand in the shadow of the ocean god, Tiamat.]

[Become the champion of Crete] [Free the island from the monster] [Claim the First Relic]

Your reputation precedes you, great hero! The Great One, the King of Kings Minos invites you to hold audience with him at his court. Join, noble hero, and defeat the monster of the labyrinth.

That was interesting. I remembered that the bandit cave quest had granted me factional reputation. In the Stone Epoch, factional reputation meant people and vandals would like me more, be more willing to form alliances. It looked like here it directly tied to what quests were available.

I sat back a moment. I could hear birds chirping outside, and that fine sea salt breeze gently blowing in. The quests were linked. I had wondered how to begin the Labyrinth quest, but it looked like I had my answer. Time to see who this king of kings was, but first there was something more pressing I needed.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

A shave, and perhaps a haircut.

I felt like a new man, in more ways than one. The tangled dreadlocks that had begun to form in the Stone Epoch had been savagely washed and cut. Now my dark hair had been cut to shoulder length and blown back. My beard too had been shaved off entirely, and for the first time since London I was clean-shaven.

White tunic, copper armour, I had looked at myself in a mirror. I felt slightly taller, muscular, even my jaw seemed more defined. A sword at my hip, new sandals on my feet, I was the everyday Bronze Epoch man.

Have to admit, didn’t hate it. I tipped the barber an extra shekel, to which he offered a shower of thanks as I headed for the quest marker.

It took me up the hill, towards the palace. It was situated higher than the rest of the city of Minos, built from coloured stone, but far grander than that of the city itself. There were guards posted at the door, copper-armed soldiers, but they seemed to recognise me on sight.

‘Ah, hero of Minos!’ one of them had said. ‘Good job clearing out those bandits.’

‘Dark time, and darker threats,’ muttered the other, to no one in particular. I nodded at them both, unsure of what to say, as I entered, making my way through a central courtyard where I saw a few young boys and girls training with wooden practice swords with an instructor. They were all paying attention, aside from one of them, a little smaller, perhaps younger than the others. A young girl, seven or eight at my guess, with tangled brown hair and curious blue eyes who was staring at me.

The letter and quest had made it seem that I was the Hero of Minos, but as I entered the court, I quickly realised I was just one of the heroes of Minos. Or maybe just the latest. There were at least a dozen other men and women. Adventurers answering the call. They seemed to be formed into parties, and I felt a pang of longing for Miggy and Larry.