Chapter 10: Chapter 10

As the minutes stretched on with nothing biting at their lines, Arslan cleared his throat, clearly itching to fill the silence. He gave Ludger a sideways glance, a grin tugging at his lips.

“So, Luds,” he began, his tone light, “how’s training with Selene going? Enjoying learning how to fight?”

Ludger shrugged, keeping his eyes on the ripples in the lake. “It’s fine.”

“Fine, huh?” Arslan chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s what I thought you’d say. But listen—what you’re learning from Selene isn’t just about throwing punches. Fighting… it’s not supposed to be about hurting people just because you can. It’s about why you fight.”

He leaned back, balancing the rod across his knees as his voice grew more earnest. “Take it from me, a blade or a fist used without purpose is just destruction. Sure, you might look tough, but what’s it worth if you’re only breaking things or people? What matters is what you choose to protect. Your mother, for instance. The weak. Those who can’t stand on their own. That’s where true strength comes from—deciding what’s worth shielding and never backing down from it.”

Ludger blinked, his face blank.

But Arslan was only getting started. His voice carried that tone adults loved to use when they thought they were dropping wisdom like gold coins. “I’ve seen too many men lose themselves in battle, forget what they were fighting for. That’s when mistakes happen. A sword swung without conviction cuts allies as easily as enemies. And you can’t just fight for yourself, because sooner or later, you’ll find that isn’t enough to keep you going. You need something bigger, something that keeps you moving even when you’re tired, bleeding, or scared.”

His hands gestured animatedly as though he were giving a speech to a tavern full of wide-eyed rookies. “Strength isn’t measured by how hard you hit—it’s by whether you can stand tall when it counts. You’ve got Selene teaching you how to make your fists strong, but remember, boy, the real battle isn’t with your enemies—it’s with yourself, with your reasons, with your resolve!”

Ludger suppressed a yawn, shifting his weight on the grass. Here we go. Lecture mode activated. Should I clap when he’s done?

The words rolled on and on, a rambling sermon about honor, protection, and the noble weight of strength. Arslan looked more alive with every sentence, his brown eyes shining as though the lake itself were applauding his wisdom.

Meanwhile, Ludger stared at the water and thought, If this lasts much longer, I might just throw myself into the lake. Protect the weak, protect Mom, don’t fight without purpose—I got it. Really. Can we move on before I fall asleep sitting up?

Eventually, Arslan’s rambling slowed down, and his tone shifted into something a little more serious. He leaned his fishing rod against his shoulder, his gaze fixed on the rippling lake.

“I’ll be heading out on a job soon,” he said. “It’s nothing too dangerous, but it’ll take me away from Koa for about a month. When I get back…” He paused, then looked down at Ludger with a grin that tried too hard to be casual. “When I get back, I’ll teach you how to use a sword. Properly. Not just swinging it around, but the real way.”

Ludger blinked, his face calm while his thoughts spun in dry amusement. A sword, huh? I’m already busy with pugilist training. Fists, stamina, building real basics. Picking up a sword on top of that… eh. Honestly, I don’t need another distraction. But if I flat-out refuse, won’t that crush him?

He glanced sidelong at his father, who was still smiling like this was some grand gift. Yeah… better not bully him too much. Mom already turned into a sadist ever since she saw me splash his face with Create Water. If Dad turns into a masochist, this family dynamic will get way too weird.

So instead, Ludger simply nodded. “Sounds good.”

Arslan’s grin widened, his chest puffing up like he’d just passed on an heirloom blade instead of a promise. “Good! I knew you’d say yes. A man should know how to use his fists, sure—but a sword, Ludger, a sword is a symbol. Once you hold one, you’ll understand!”

Ludger sighed inwardly, resting his chin on his small fist. Yeah, yeah. Symbol of strength, honor, legacy, whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to stop punching walls for EXP in the meantime.

Ludger shifted the fishing rod in his hands and glanced at his father. “You know, if you don’t come back from that job…” He let the words hang for a moment before smirking faintly. “Mother’s going to kill you. And if you actually die, she’ll probably drag you back to life just to kill you again.”

Arslan froze, then let out a booming laugh that startled a few birds from the reeds. He slapped his knee, grinning ear to ear. “Ha! Gods, you really are her son.”

But after the laughter faded, he nodded slowly, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “Yeah… you’re probably right. Knowing Elaine, that’s not even a joke. She’d find a way to do it.”

Ludger snorted and looked back at the water. Of course she would. She already looks at him like a cat waiting to smack a mouse. I wouldn’t bet against her.

Arslan gave him a crooked smile, shaking his head as though he’d just been reminded of his own mortality. “Guess I don’t really have a choice, do I? I’ll just have to make sure I come back in one piece.”

“Good plan,” Ludger said dryly, resting his chin on his fist. “Cheaper than resurrection.”

Arslan laughed again, but this time there was a hint of nerves beneath it.

The lake had settled into silence again, their lines bobbing gently in the water. Ludger’s eyes drifted to his father, studying his face. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought suddenly surfaced.

“How old are you, anyway?” Ludger asked.

Arslan blinked, caught off guard by the question. Then he grinned, tapping his chest proudly. “Twenty-two. Still young, right?”

Ludger’s fingers tightened slightly on the rod. Twenty-two… the same age I was when I died. The thought hit harder than he expected, like a cold splash of water in his gut. To think that the man in front of him—his father here—was no older than he had been in his old life.

He swallowed, masking the heaviness with a calm voice. “And Mother?”

“Elaine?” Arslan tilted his head thoughtfully. “Hmm… she should be around twenty now.”

Ludger blinked, caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief. Twenty? She’s two years younger than him?

It made a twisted sort of sense. Elaine had the energy and beauty of someone still at the dawn of adulthood, but to Ludger, who carried memories of a full life behind his child’s face, it was bizarre. A mother younger than the age he had died—it twisted the roles in his head until they almost didn’t fit.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He looked back at the lake, his lips pressing into a thin line. So I’ve got a father younger than I was, and a mother who isn’t even older than most of my past coworkers. No wonder everything feels upside down here.

Arslan, oblivious to the storm in Ludger’s thoughts, simply leaned back with a smile. “Don’t tell her I said her age out loud, though. I like living.”

Ludger snorted softly despite himself.

After a while, Ludger stood up, stretching his little arms as if the trip had already worn him out. He glanced at his father, who was still humming to himself and watching the lake with exaggerated focus.

If this were Earth, Ludger thought dryly, I’d be looking for the police right about now. Making a fifteen-year-old girl pregnant and then vanishing for years? Yeah, back home, that’s a straight ticket to jail.

He sighed through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly. Not even I can make jokes about that one with a straight face…

And yet, Elaine had forgiven him. Ludger knew why. Arslan was handsome, reckless in a way that somehow came off as charming, and Elaine believed her son deserved a father figure—even one who had failed so spectacularly before.

Unfortunately, from Ludger’s perspective, Arslan wasn’t starting at zero. No, he was starting at minus nine thousand respect points.

Fishing trips and half-baked fatherly wisdom weren’t nearly enough to balance that scale.

As the minutes ticked by and the water stayed stubbornly calm, Ludger’s mind drifted back to the system. He glanced at the rod in his hands, at the line disappearing into the lake, and frowned.

Why haven’t I gotten the Fisherman job yet?

He tilted his head, chewing on the thought. He had the rod, he had the bait, he had the patience—well, some patience—and wasn’t this exactly the kind of thing the system was supposed to pick up on?

After a while, the only explanation that made sense came to him. It’s because of him, he thought, cutting a sideways look at Arslan, who was still whistling off-key. He’s not a fisherman. He’s a swordsman. The system probably links the master to the job, same as it did with Cook and Mage. Which means no fisherman job for me.

He let out a quiet sigh, leaning back on the grass. Not that it matters. What would I even do with a Fisherman job? Jog all the way out here every day just to level it up? No thanks. I’d rather keep my skills where I can train them without walking for an hour first.

The line bobbed lazily on the lake’s surface. Ludger smirked faintly. Yeah. Sword skills, fist skills, magic—those make sense. Fishing? I’ll leave that to bored old men with nothing better to do.

The sun had shifted higher in the sky by the time Ludger’s patience began to fray. His line floated undisturbed on the water, not so much as a nibble tugging at it. Meanwhile, Arslan had already pulled in two fat fish and was grinning like a champion showing off trophies.

Ludger’s eyelids drooped as he propped his chin on his fist. Figures. He doesn’t even look like he’s trying and still gets results. Meanwhile, I’m sitting here holding a glorified stick, wondering if my bait even still exists.

Arslan glanced over, clearly noticing his son’s drooping mood, and chuckled. “Getting tired already, Luds? Don’t pout. This is part of the lesson.”

Ludger gave him a flat look. “Lesson?”

“Patience,” Arslan said grandly, pointing a finger at the sky as if revealing a universal truth. “Fishing teaches you patience. You can’t force a bite, you can’t rush the water. You just wait, and eventually, it rewards you. Same with life, same with fighting. If you get restless too soon, you miss the moment. Patience is what separates men from boys.”

Ludger blinked slowly, unimpressed. Wow. Fishing metaphors. What’s next, life lessons from laundry?

Arslan, oblivious to the sarcasm brewing behind his son’s eyes, leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Trust me, boy, the wait is what makes the catch taste better. You’ll see.”

Ludger stifled a yawn, muttering under his breath. “Or maybe it just makes me hungrier.”

By the time the sun reached its peak, they had built a small bonfire near the shore. The fresh-caught fish sizzled over the flames, the smell drifting across the lake with the breeze. Arslan handled most of the cooking, humming off-key as usual, while Ludger sat cross-legged on the grass, chewing thoughtfully once the food was ready.

It wasn’t the best meal he’d ever had, but there was something about the crackle of the fire, the smell of smoke, and the quiet lake that made it taste better than it should have.

By midafternoon, Arslan dusted off his hands and stretched with a satisfied sigh. “All right. Let’s call it a day.”

They packed up their things and untied the horse, beginning the slow ride back toward Koa. For once, the road felt quieter, the energy of the morning settling into something calmer.

As the city walls came into view in the distance, Arslan tilted his head toward his son. “So, Luds,” he asked, his tone casual, “did you enjoy the trip?”

Ludger kept his gaze forward, the wind tugging at his hair. “…It was all right.”

Arslan chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, I’m a bit surprised.”

“Surprised?” Ludger glanced back at him.

“Yeah.” Arslan’s grin softened into something more curious. “You’re way too mature for your age. Most kids would’ve spent the whole trip whining or trying to throw rocks in the lake. But you? You sit there listening, asking questions, thinking. It’s like you’re… older somehow.”

Ludger froze, his small hands tightening on the saddle. For a heartbeat, his mind went blank.

…Crap.

He forced his face into neutrality, eyes back on the road. “…Guess I just took after Mother.”

Arslan laughed at that, buying the excuse without a second thought. But Ludger’s heart was still beating just a little too fast.

Arslan’s laugh rang out behind him, light and untroubled, but Ludger’s pulse still beat a little too fast in his ears. He kept his face carefully neutral, eyes fixed on the dirt road stretching toward Koa.

That was close. Way too close.

It wasn’t the first time someone had hinted that he acted older than his years. A few regulars at the tavern had joked about it before, calling him a “tiny old man” or “grandpa in a kid’s body.” Even Elaine sometimes gave him curious looks when he spoke too sharply or thought too carefully.

He had brushed it all off, telling himself that nobody would take the idea seriously. People might notice, but they wouldn’t really believe it. Still… he couldn’t afford to get careless.

The system, my memories, the way I think—it’s obvious enough already. If I keep slipping, if I let too much show, someone sharp enough will put the pieces together.

He took a deep breath, his small hands tightening on the saddle. No. I have to be cautious. More cautious than before. This world isn’t Earth, and I don’t know what people would do if they learned what I really am. Admire me? Fear me? Use me? Or just decide it’s safer to get rid of me entirely?

Arslan’s voice broke the silence, rambling about some old fishing trip with Harold, but Ludger barely heard it. His eyes flicked once toward the horizon, the distant mountains cutting against the sky.

If I want to expand my world… I need to do it carefully. Quietly. Step by step. No matter how obvious I might look, I can’t afford to let anyone confirm it.

By the time the sun had begun dipping toward the west, the horse clopped its way back through the gates of Koa. The guards gave Arslan a familiar nod, and the bustling city swallowed them again, its noise and smells stark after the quiet of the fields and lake.

Elaine was waiting near the front of their home, her arms crossed, her green eyes narrowing as soon as she saw them. Ludger could tell she had been standing there for a while.

“You’re late,” she said flatly.

Arslan hopped down from the horse and flashed his best grin. “We brought dinner, didn’t we?” He lifted the bundle of fish like it was a prize worth a medal.

Elaine’s gaze didn’t soften. “If you wanted dinner, I could’ve cooked it in half the time. What you two brought back is just extra work for me.”

Arslan laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Ah, but it’s bonding time, you see—”

“Mm-hm.” She cut him off, then crouched down, her expression softening when she looked at Ludger. “And how was it? Did you enjoy your little trip?”

Ludger hesitated for a moment, then nodded once. “It was… all right.”

Elaine’s lips curved faintly into a smile, just enough for him to see it before she turned her sharp gaze back on Arslan. “Next time, try not to keep him out all day. Some of us have things to do.”

Arslan gave a sheepish laugh, clearly defeated, while Ludger slipped past them into the house. Back to normal, he thought. One parent scolding, the other pretending it’s fine. At least this much doesn’t change, no matter the world.