My Second Life Is A Heroic Power Fantasy 158 Battle Lines

Rose moaned gently, before s.h.i.+fting in her bedroll and squeezing him tighter.

This was nice. He could get used to this.

He watched her for a moment, uncertain of what to do, when she took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Seeing him looking at her, she seemed to realize where she was and sat up, fl.u.s.tered.

"Oh, good morning." She said, her face flus.h.i.+ng.

"Morning." Jack said, yawning and stretching. "Sleep well?"

She nodded, then smiled sheepishly.

"Yes, I did."

"Good. I'm glad." He said, sitting up and throwing off the top layer of his bedroll, before reaching for his boots and pulling them onto his feet.

What tents there were in the camp were already disa.s.sembled and loaded into packs, and most of the a.s.sembled group already wore armor and were making final preparations to leave.

"We're running behind." Jack said, sliding his other boot on and picking up his bedroll. "We need to hurry."

"Well, it's not like they're going to leave without us." Rose said.

It took several minutes to pack everything up, and get their armor and weapons sorted, taking turns helping each other don chestplates and pauldrons. He couldn't help but notice how bashful Rose seemed to be during the process, which amused him to no end.

Once everything was gathered and packed away, Jack fastened Harrowbloom to his side, and glanced down at the weapon's ornate, flower-covered hilt. It was going to be strange fighting without his axe. He'd gotten very used to it since he'd arrived, and to head into a dangerous situation without it to keep him company felt a little like sacrilege. But even in the scabbard on his side, he felt the faint hum of the sword's energy. There was something inside it begging to be let out. He looked forward to finding out just how good the blade really was.

Once everything was stowed away and he felt confident that he was as ready as he was going to get, he mentally walked through a checklist of everything he was going to need or have available, and made sure each was easily accessible.
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Harrowbloom? Check.

Healing Potions? Check.

s.h.i.+elding Cloak? Check.

Arrow Magnet? Check.

Magic Missile scrolls? Check.

He went back over the list again. Something was missing from it... but what?

After a moment, he remembered the black knight he had from before. Reaching into one of the pouches on his belt, he pulled out the small figurine and inspected it again. It would last either 24 hours or until it ran out of health, at which point it would be dispelled and need a week to recharge.

He considered putting it away again, but given the situation at hand, he would need all the help he could get, and he highly doubted the entire campaign would last more than 24 hours.

Oh well. The more the merrier. Here goes nothing.

Rose looked at him intently.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"You'll see. Watch."

He held the figurine out in front of him, and spoke the word of power.

"Kilcoin."

As soon as he spoke it, the figurine began to glow with a faint light, before lifting gently off of his hand and into the air. As soon as it reached eye-level, it drifted away from him, and with a blinding flash disappeared from view with a loud clap.

When Jack re-opened his eyes, he found himself standing in front of a knight, wrapped in menacing black armor, its hands resting on the pommel of a large, immaculate-looking sword stuck point first into the ground in front of it. The knight remained immobile for a moment, before its helmet snapped towards Jack with a creak.

"Is it you who have summoned me, my lord?" The knight spoke, his voice deep and booming. "Tell me how I may serve you, for the life of Sir Dawson the Daring is yours to command!"

"Whoa, how did you do that?" Rose asked, looking at the knight in wonder.

Jack shrugged.

"Magic item. It's what I got from Maddy when she looted the gnolls." He said.

He turned his attention to the knight.

"You said your name is Dawson the Daring?" He asked.

The knight nodded, slamming one of his armored fists into his chestplate with a loud clang.

"At your service, Lord!"

"What are you good at, Dawson?" Jack asked.

The knight paused for a moment, before tilting his head slightly in the same way a dog might when it was confused by something.

"...what do you mean, Lord?" He asked.

"How do you fight? Do you know any magic? Would you benefit from a s.h.i.+eld? That sort of thing." Jack said.

Dawson the Daring straightened.

"I see. Well, my lord, I am adept at the use of the greatsword I am in possession here. I know no magic, nor am I protected against it, though both my blade and armor are magical. I have no use for s.h.i.+elds, as they impair my ability to heroically slay the enemies of my liege. I can and will follow any directions given to the best of my understanding and ability, even if doing so would result in my manifestation being destroyed." It said.

Dawson the Daring then turned his attention to Rose, who seemed generally amused by the whole thing.

"I am also knowledgable of and adept at the various methods of wooing a courtly damsel, including the playing of a lute and the recitation of romantic verse."

He turned his attention back to Jack.

"Shall I provide a demonstration?"

Jack snorted and shook his head.

"No, Dawson, but thank you."