Chapter Text
Rohar had learned early that King’s Landing was a shithole, and not just in the literal sense with its horrid smell. It was even more true for Flea Bottom, where he lived.
One wrong step, and one would lose everything that mattered. Some lost their name, turning into a nameless figure referred as rat or waste of space. Some lost their pride, turning into obedient boot lickers hoping for scraps. Some lost their mercy, others lost their sleep.
Most common way was to lose one’s life. And, as the news of a siege approached, Rohar believed that he would be one of them. It was only to be expected when Gold Cloaks rounded him from the streets, pushed a sword into his hand, and brought to the walls looking at the Blackwater bay, and told to defend the kingdom from the traitors.
As for why they were defending the city against the brother of the previous king, he didn’t ask. Not after he had seen what happened to the ones that dared to ask.
Gold Cloaks had never been merciful toward the smallfolk unlucky enough to be born to Flea Bottom.
He just watched, a part of him already resigned to death for the first time in his life. Until this moment, he had struggled. He lied, he cheated, and most importantly, he watched carefully to understand people. As an orphan, it had been very important to know which merchant would kill a bread stealer, and which merchant would merely beat one down painfully.
A battle was different. Everyone at the other side wanted to kill him, and quite a few people on his side shared the sentiment. He knew he could survive if he was lucky … but luck had never been something that he had in abundance of. He merely survived with his wits, not his luck.
He only had one pity.
He still felt hungry. He only had a bowl of onion broth in his belly, thin enough to shame an onion, accompanied by a slice of bread thin enough that his hand was visible from the other side.
Those noble bastards didn’t even bother feeding them properly before forcing them to die for their pointless fights. Hunger was already clawing again, as if it had never been fed at all.
He shifted his weight, feeling the bruise on his hip complain. He’d gotten it when the one of the guards had decided lazy rats needed encouragement while moving. Rohar didn’t fight back. Fighting back against the guards was an even quicker way to die.
At least, in battle, there was a chance he would survive.
A small one, but still.
But, as he waited, a bell sound reached his … mind. He could only say that, because it didn’t reach his ear.
His first instinct was to look for the source, but he suppressed it. He didn’t want to die by angering the guards. They wouldn’t blink before dealing with him, just to intimidate the other poor conscripts.
Nothing.
Just the city doing what it always did.
Rohar’s heart kept hammering, refusing to believe the emptiness.
And then the emptiness filled with words.
They weren’t written on any wall. They weren’t scratched into wood. They weren’t painted in soot. They simply existed in front of his eyes—pale letters floating in his vision like a dream that wouldn’t fade when you blinked.
Rohar blinked.
The letters stayed.
He blinked harder, eyes watering.
Still there.
And, somehow, despite not knowing how to read or write, he understood them.
[Chaos Gacha System Initiated, Achieve great feats to receive reward!]
{Warning! Due to low magical density some features are unavailable or limited.}
Rohar’s mouth went dry. His tongue felt too big; wondering whether he was chosen by the gods, or cursed by some kind of demon or evil entity. Knowing his luck, it was the latter.
He didn’t know what Chaos Gacha was? Maybe it was something that was common with the nobles, or maybe it was something that would cost his life just by admitting. Rohar kept his mouth shut, and watched the fleet.
Mysterious writing appaearing in his gaze didn’t mean he would survive the upcoming disaster.
{Three Gold Random Tickets have been awarded as a starting bonus!}
{Warning! Due to low-magic environment, Gold tickets cannot be delivered. Discounted to Bronze.}
“Well, that tracks,” he muttered, his eyes still on the approaching fleet. He didn’t know what a gold or bronze tickets was, but one didn’t need education to know that gold was better than bronze. Getting teased with something better before getting the delivery of a horrid alternative was just what he needed.
Yet, he reflexively knew how to activate them. He did, and some kind of bronze-colored page appeared in his hand. One that he ripped immediately before anyone could notice, trusting that no one would pay attention to him .
[Intermediate Acting]
{Uncommon Skill: You are a skilled actor, being able to properly portray yourself in the way you want to be seen and concealing your real emotions. But people familiar with you or people who have good intuition like detectives can probably see through your acting.}
An incredible reward, but he didn’t feel any change.
{Warning! Due to low-magic environment, skill infusion couldn’t be achieved. They will apply as learning bonus while practicing the skill.}
“About right,” he muttered as he shuffled slightly. Not only acting was not something he needed, but also it wasn’t useful in a fight. He shuffled slightly, making he was hidden behind a taller recruit, and summoned another.
[Fertility Calibration]
{Uncommon Trait: You can freely adjust your own fertility, being able to freely go from absolutely inert to being so fertile you can impregnate even someone completely infertile at will. Or depending on your parts, make yourself sterile or rival the Goat of a Thousand Young.}
His eyes widened as he received the second supposed reward, as if the Chaos Gacha was mocking him about his earlier comment, showing him what a truly useless gift was.
Chaos Gacha was angry.
“Please, for everything holy and unholy, have mercy on me great one. I won’t disrespect you again,” he begged, which went unnoticed. He wasn’t the only recruit desperately praying.
He pulled one more.
[Lesser Hydrokinesis]
{Uncommon Ability: Allows you to create and control water around yourself telekinetically, it is not particularly powerful but it is still very versatile and precise.}
{Warning! Due to low-magic environment, system can’t provide any power for the abilities. Use them responsibly to avoid overdraining.}
“Thank you, great one,” Rohar whispered, feeling a hint of satisfaction even as he felt the ability to settle, giving him a great awareness of water that surrounded him. His prayers and show of respect worked!
For an instant, it was as if the world gained a new layer. He was aware of water that surrounded him, almost like a new limb.
That was when a giant explosion of fire covered the bay, a green light burning. It was easy to recognize by anyone that lived in King’s Landing, and heard the stories of Mad King.
Wildfire.
“Be ready for the war, maggots,” one of the soldiers shouted, and Rohar prepared himself even as the wall still shook after the explosion, the sickly green turning the night into a nightmare.
Yet, at a distance, he could see the attacking ships ignore the inferno and sail closer. Nobles were mad. All of them. “Steady, maggots!” a soldier shouted, voice cracking with fear. “Hold the line!”
Rohar’s hands tightened around his sword.
His belly was empty. His bruise throbbed. His life was worth less than the blade in his grip. One that he didn’t even know how to use other than stabbing with the pointy end.
He prepared.
When the fighting began, it didn’t feel like a battle the bards sang about. There was no bravery, no respectful duels. Just mayhem.
It was the deafening noise first. A wall of sound. Drums from the ships. Horns from the shore. The endless screaming of men trying to make themselves brave by being loud. Then came the thump of impacts; stones, arrows, bodies hitting wood, wood hitting stone, men hitting men.
Smoke crawled upward, thick and oily, stinging Rohar’s eyes until tears leaked out. The air tasted of ash and pitch. Every breath felt like swallowing grit.
The Gold Cloaks shoved the conscripts forward when ladders slammed against the wall.
“Down! Down!” someone yelled, and they were herded toward a stairwell and a narrow walkway where the fighting was already clotted.
Rohar’s first clear view of the enemy was a man hauling himself up a ladder, expensive armor, the look of someone who’d fought before. Behind him, other men surged, desperate and frantic, climbing over each other to get at the wall. Several closest conscript started pushing the ladders away, while the others were cut down by the first ones that arrived.
Rohar’s mouth went dry again.
This was why the conscripts were there. To die. They weren’t soldiers. They were bodies placed where the enemy would hit first. It didn’t come as a surprise, but seeing it was different.
A Gold Cloak captain shoved Rohar so hard he stumbled.
“Forward, flea-rat!”
Rohar caught himself. He didn’t turn to glare. Glares got you beaten under the best of conditions. Here, it would mean a stab. He pushed forward because behind him was a wall of spears and boots and authority.
Ahead of him was steel.
Several men were already at the wall when he arrived. The first man over the top swung an axe. It came down into a conscript’s shoulder with a wet crunch. The conscript screamed and fell, and the men behind him surged forward over his body like the dead were just uneven ground.
Rohar’s mind tried to flee into numbness. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen death. He did, many times. From sickness, from bar fights gone wrong, even violent back alley gang fights…
War was different.
He backed half a step, trying to find space, trying to find air. Someone slammed into his side. His sword arm jolted. He nearly lost the grip.
More enemies climbed, and suddenly the narrow walkway was a churn of bodies.
Rohar slashed without elegance, without training, just desperate arcs aimed at anything that looked like it wanted to kill him, trying to look brave and mad. That way, it wouldn’t be suspicious whenever he pulled back. Awareness was important.
Just as he pulled, he saw another conscript, one with less awareness and more belief to his own bravery got decapitated by a knight with a surprising ease.
Rohar tried to stay away. He wasn’t the only one realizing the trick to staying alive. A man next to him, a butcher by the look of his hands, followed the same tactic. But, an arrow hit him in the throat, a spray of red proving it wasn’t as smart as Rohar had first thought.
His stomach lurched. He wanted to turn back and retreat, but it proved to be impossible. Another push forward, and Rohar lost himself in the chaos, wildly swinging, hoping for a lucky hit.
[Feat Achieved! Kill your first man
+1x Silver Skill Gacha ticket]
{Warning! Due to low-magic environment, silver ticket cannot be delivered. Discounted to Bronze.}
He still activated the moment he had found a moment of calm…
[Novice Chemistry]
{Common Skill: You have the skills and knowledge of a Chemistry Major. You have a decent repertoire of knowledge regarding chemistry and compounds. You know how to make most regular chemicals and know not to drink bleach.}
{Warning! Due to low-magic environment, skill infusion couldn’t be achieved. They will apply as learning bonus while practicing the skill.}
He cursed, not at the System, but at his own stupidity. He deserved by just activating it rather than properly praying first to show his respects.
However, his internal fury staggered when a shout cut through the chaos. A deeper voice, confident. A knight had pushed his way onto the wall; taller than most, broader, moving with the practiced certainty of someone who’d survived battles before.
His armor wasn’t as shiny as the occasional knight that wandered around the city, but maybe it was just the effect of the battle. Or maybe, he was one of the poorer knights. Not that it mattered, as he was far beyond any Flea Bottom conscript.
Every swing of his blade killed a man, Gold Cloaks around them retreating in fear as well. His eyes scanned, quick and cold. The only good thing, Rohar noticed, that he didn’t even pay attention to him.
Why would he? Would a butcher care about a solitary chicken…
The hedge knight stepped forward, slashing through flailing conscripts with the casual cruelty of a man.
Rohar’s mind raced.
Run? No room. Behind him was the guards, ready to cut him down if he escaped. As for fighting …
His breath came shallow. His fingers tightened, and for an instant he felt the absurdity of it, that how the world had pushed a starving Flea Bottom boy into the path of a trained killer and called it duty to his king.
Anger flared, sharp and hot, and it didn’t make him brave, but it made him clear.
He still had one trick.
He waited for an opportunity. A mistake. One that happened when the knight stabbed another conscript in the ribs, only for his sword to get stuck momentarily.
Rohar lunged, a suicidal charge, at least that was what the knight believed if the way he dipped his head was any indicator. After all, his blade was already half-pulled.
He never expected a line of water to reach to his leg, and give a hard tug, making him stumble, the detail going unnoticed by others at the darkness flickering with green light. Rohar, expecting his fall, just stabbed his sword through the gap in his helmet.
Even a knight died to a stab through his helmet.
[Feat Achieved! Kill a knight
+1x Silver Skill Gacha ticket]
{Warning! Due to low-magic environment, silver ticket cannot be delivered. Discounted to Bronze.}
“For King!” Rohar shouted in elation. Fake elation. Even though he killed a knight, he wasn’t stupid enough to expect a reward. No, it didn’t matter if the knight was an enemy. It was still not for small folk to kill them. Their job was to die to them.
Luckily, no one cared about them, meaning no one really knew who he was. No one cared about his identity in the first place, and the chaos of the battle illuminated by wildfire meant that no one would know he was the killer. He just needed to mix back with the other recruits, and keep his mouth shut afterwards.
Once he found a moment to breathe, he pulled the next ticket. But this time, he prayed for forgiveness, promising respect. Something to survive the battle, or failing that, something to help him make a living.
[Novice Massage]
{Common Skill: You are as skilled as an apprentice masseuse, you know how to give someone a massage that feels good and can relieve pressure but not much beyond that.}
{Warning! Due to low-magic environment, skill infusion couldn’t be achieved. They will apply as learning bonus while practicing the skill.}
He was not forgiven by the System yet, or he would have gotten a better reward. Massage skills was not a way to make a living for a man … not unless he wanted to abandon the last bit of self-respect he had.
Rohar’s gaze flicked over the battlefield, doing his best to stay with the crowd, fighting wildly. He didn’t know if he succeeded killing another. If he did, there was no reward for killing more conscripts.
Thrice more, he used his water trick to survive, once to kill, and twice to just get away while his opponent stumbled.
The battle raged on…
&&&
If he wasn’t covered by the blood and guts of the others, Rohar might have appreciated the irony of being sent away the moment the battle was over, the sword confiscated.
They didn’t even bother feeding them.
Naturally, there were several guards that had asked around, questioning who was the lucky soldier who managed to take down a knight, but Rohar kept his head down, not stupid enough to believe guards doing something nice for him.
Another conscript proved to be stupider, or at least more desperate, and claimed that he was the one that killed the knight, hoping to take credit. Guards took him away, and he never returned.
But, soon, gossip and rumors about how their brave guard captain singlehandedly killed an armored knight spread around.
Interesting, but also not something he had luxury of paying attention. Not when he had other, bigger issues, one that was even more important than exploring the mysterious System that allowed him to survive.
Like where to get his next dinner. With the siege gone, the city once again started receiving shipments, but Rohar was unsurprised to see that the sudden bounty didn’t immediately reach to Flea Bottom.
Which meant that, once again, he was doing backbreaking work to earn a few coins, enough to afford the inflated food prices.
The only positive aspect, when System promised him the ability to learn quickly, it was even faster than he expected. Even when working as a porter at the docks, he was able to train his Acting skill by trying various expressions and body language, making connections he never expected it to be possible.
Nothing really useful, as while being an actor in a troupe earned more money than merely working as a porter, troupes were insular groups that grew up together. They might take a talented child, but never an adult.
Still, he did his best to sharpen it, at least it was a distraction from the pain of the work and hunger. Massage skill came similarly useful as he rubbed his own legs and lower back to reduce the strain of the day. Too bad he couldn’t learn chemistry. That kind of knowledge was not something he could access.
The fact that he could read and write didn’t help. Especially since ability was there, but his writing was horrid, meaning the easiest way to make money, being a scribe, was out as well.
As for tickets, he didn’t dare to explore how to get them … not when the only clue was killing. He didn’t even ponder as he carefully placed the sack he had been carrying. Currently, he was working as a porter for a high-class brothel, and even if he sold himself, he couldn’t afford what they would ask if he damaged the sack filled with fabric.
He wanted to make sure that —
Before he could finish his thoughts, he felt a kick to his ass. “Get out of the way, you worthless bastard,” a voice he didn’t recognize declared and continued walking. Rohar wanted to jump to his feet and give him a kick, but two things kept him from doing so.
One was the identity of the attacker. Rohar didn’t recognize him, but expensive bright clothes and multiple bodyguards meant that he was not something that could be touched by smallfolk.
But, the other reason was more important.
[Feat Achieved! Chaos is a ladder. Meet Littlefinger
+1x Silver Trait Gacha ticket]
{Warning! Due to low-magic environment, Silver tickets cannot be delivered. Discounted to Bronze.}
The name, he recognized. Peter Baelish, Master of Coin, and one of the richest merchants, famous for his high class brothels. But, there was only one thing he could say.
It was nice to meet him!