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Deathworld Commando: Reborn

What happens when humanity's greatest weapon gets a second chance at life? Commander Kronos wasn't even considered to be a human but rather a weapon to be used for the greater good of his species. He was grown in a tube to be the perfect weapon so he lacked many emotions/experiences most people take for granted. Upon experiencing some emotions for the first time he was quickly eliminated by humanity and was reborn into a world of swords and sorcery, getting a second lease on life. Of course, he didn't see it that way at the start and thought he was being fooled. It took a near-death experience and a lot of growing up but he finally decided to keep his promise to his former comrades and give his new life an honest try. Embark on the story of the former Commander of Hades Squad as he settles into his new life as the Dark Elf Kaladin Shadowheart. --- Chapters avg 3-6k+ words. As of now, I post every Monday morning. --- Support me on Ko-Fi where you can get chapters in advance. https://ko-fi.com/rangerfrank --- Join the Discord- ttps://discord.com/invite/YGSUeuTTwH --- You can also find me on Reddit- https://www.reddit.com/user/RangerFrank Royal Road- https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/48211/deathworld-commando-reborn

RangerFrank · Fantasy
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226 Chs

Vol.4 Ch.71- A Surprise To Be Sure.

Work on butchering the Wyrm went well into the night. It turns out the scales and muscles around the neck area were tougher than the rest. It was amusing watching Dwarves cursing and yelling their heads off after their tools broke. Even though most of the other members had retired for the night, the Dwarves worked until the sun arose.

Sylvia and I took turns getting some rest in our room while the other continued watching the progress. Dominick's provided room was on the nicer side, and I imagine it was reserved for important people visiting the guild. I doubted Ruby adventurers typically had access to that room, but I was thankful nonetheless. By the time I woke up for the second time in the morning, the Dwarves had finished the job.

Sylvia stashed our half of the corpse away in her ring, including scales, bones, and a single horn. We decided to sell the meat, organs, and anything else to the guild since we didn't have any need for them. And once the Wyrm was butchered up, storing that much would have been a hassle anyway. So on top of our half of the corpse, we got paid for the other half. And we got paid a lot of money.

Seven large gold. Eighty-five regular gold pieces. A little over forty large silver. And a handful of silver coins. A medium-sized fortune. That was even more money than Sylvia had in her storage ring or more money than I've ever had in my entire life. So money isn't going to be a problem for a long time.

I worked out in the morning, then ate breakfast. Sylvia got her fill of my blood, and after that, it was time to leave. We had some shopping to do, then we were to head out to our ranch interview. Dominick was waiting for us outside the guild. Snow had ramped up, and now the ground outside was littered with white powder. Adventurers were shoveling it to the side despite there not being very much. Must keep up the image, I suppose.

"You are really leaving so soon?" he asked.

"Yeah, we don't want to stay in Nactus for the winter. Rather find some village to hunker down in for the time being," I said.

"That's a shame. If you are back in town, I wouldn't mind having another chat with you two. Or if you Elves get bored of your quiet lives and want to pick up some quests, feel free to get in contact. I'm sure I can find something for our freshly minted Ruby, and Topaz ranked adventurer. Just uh, don't wait two or three decades to come to see me. Humans don't live that long, just in case you forgot…."

I ran my hand across the smooth edges of the red adventurer tag hanging around my neck. Unlike my previous Opal tag, this tag was cut from a gem of some sort. I doubt it was a genuine ruby, but it looked close enough.

"Is that normally a problem?" I mused.

"Apparently so. You ask an Elf to come to see you soon and soon turns into a decade. Or so I've been told."

Makes sense. What's a decade to three hundred years?

"I'm sure we will meet again. Or you will hunt us down for that favor," I said confidently.

Sylvia strode in front of me and extended a hand. "Thanks for taking care of us, Mr. Chidell."

Dominick had a blank face as he gently grabbed Sylvia's hand and shook it slowly. Even I was surprised.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" she questioned. She turned to look at me, and it felt like she could see through my mask. "And why are you looking at me like that?"

Because you usually aren't so nice to people…

Well, that's what I wanted to say, but I learned my lesson. Some things are just better kept to yourself.

"It's nothing. Ms. Sylvia, stay safe out there, will you? And look out for our friend, Mr. Winterheart, for me."

Sylvia gave me a dirty side-eye. "Somebody has to," she quipped.

I sighed. Dominick chuckled. And we left him and the Nactus's guild behind.

I think I might miss Dominick.

He was a simple man so understanding his goals made it easy to trust him. Then again, it all came down to the fact that he was helping Voker Winterheart, not Kaladin. I imagine if he knew the truth, he might be conflicted about turning me in. But the bounty would be enough that an adventurer could retire for life. And that made it almost sure he would turn me over to the authorities.

But there was no point in thinking about that stuff right now. Although we owed Dominick a favor, Sylvia and I planned to leave this country the second the snow melted. And soon after that, I would be on a boat back to Syn'nari.

Now that I think about it… if my wanted poster has been out for a year, there is a good chance it's everywhere, maybe even on Amoth, the other continent. So if Mom and Dad are running around the world looking for me, this may help them find me.

Sylvia poked me in the side. "What are you thinking about?"

"Stuff. My family. Bounties. The usual," I said.

"I—uh, yeah…" she trailed off. Sylvia stretched her arms out and pointed at the area in front of us. "Anyway, we are here."

This area was considered the merchant sector of Nactus, and I can see why. Of course, shops were sprinkled around here and there, but there was a much higher concentration in this part of town. Not to mention a much higher concentration of people as well.

Despite the light snow covering the ground, it didn't deter the hordes of people in the slightest. Dwarves hammered away at outside anvils while Humans hawked goods outside their doors. Children ran around in thick winter coats, and mothers came out of stores carrying food for dinner.

There were no outdoor stalls around here as everything was inside for obvious reasons. Once the snow really started falling, people needed a place to avoid the elements, and shopkeepers were required to continue making money. Large military warehouses had been gutted, and their internals turned into a market of some sort.

"I'm going to the store that Mr. Chidell recommended. Are you going to come along?" Sylvia asked while looking up at me slightly.

"I would rather spend our time efficiently instead of watching you buy clothes." I could feel Sylvia glaring at me for some reason. "Uh, I meant no offense… I just meant that we could both do our shopping, and it would be faster if we separated…"

Sylvia huffed under her mask and spun on her heels; with her back to me, she said, "It's fine. I'll come back to this spot in two hours."

And with that, she left me and melded into the crowd. What did I even say…

I thought briefly about what I had said to frustrate her, but I couldn't piece anything together. So finally, I found myself mindlessly walking about and decided that instead of thinking about the impossible, I would just focus on something I could figure out.

I should have asked for a recommendation from Dominick.

There was just about everything in this market. The warehouses that were once separated had connecting tunnels built to form one huge indoor market. Huh, kind of like one of those malls? I know they existed back in my old life, but I've never stepped foot in one. Well, a Human one, that is.

I felt a pair of eyes digging into the back of my head and turned to look at the source. A lone Dwarf with short black hair standing behind a stall with his thick arms crossed over his barrel chest and long beard. I approached his booth, and I couldn't immediately figure out what he was trying to sell with a glance. It seemed that he had a little bit of everything.

"Caught your attention, did I?" he asked me with a booming voice.

"Your attempt to burn a hole in the back of my head with your eyes was a sure-fire way to garner my attention," I said evenly.

The Dwarf gave me an appraising look, but his eyes were stuck around my head. He was looking at my mask, but I could tell he had also noticed the chain from my guild tag hanging around my neck. He couldn't see what rank I was because I had the tag tucked into my shirt.

"Magic item, huh? Can you really see through it?" the Dwarf questioned.

"My mask? Who said it was a magic item?"

The Dwarf scoffed. "You were walking around just fine, which means you can see. Unless you are walking around with those pointed ears somehow."

I think if I was born blind I imagine I could have figured something out. However, Elven hearing is good enough that I might be able to walk around normally without sight. There might even be an Elf out there doing just that right now.

"Yes, it is. I imagine you didn't call me over to talk about my mask. What are you trying to sell me, Dwarf?" I said evenly.

The Dwarf frowned, then laughed out loud. His laugh was just as powerful as his voice and carried easily over the densely packed market.

"Dagger ears and a dagger tongue to match." The Dwarf disappeared under his stall and came back up and slapped down a small scabbard. "Take a look."

I picked up the dagger and started inspecting it. Judging the scabbard alone, it didn't seem all that impressive. However, it was light as a dagger should be, and I slipped it out of its sheath with a satisfying oiled sliding sound.

The handle was made of silver metal, most likely Dwarven Steel, and wrapped in some places with black leather straps. The blade was missing its tip, but there were no cracks or other noticeable damage done to it. Despite the apparent damage, there was something more interesting about this dagger.

"Runes? That's what's engraved on the handle and etched into the blade?" I asked.

It's been years since I've seen any kind of rune work. On the handle in between the black leather are largely incomprehensible inscriptions making up the sequence the runes were trying to accomplish. It continued up the handle and finished off on the flat of the dagger. The damaged tip was broken off just before the last rune, which meant that the runes should still function.

The Dwarf grinned, and I could practically feel his excitement. "Not your first time, huh? Indeed, my Elven friend, that dagger was crafted in my homeland, and it has a nasty surprise that I'm sure would be useful on your adventures."

"A nasty surprise? For my enemies or me?" I asked.

"The Dwarf chuckled loudly again. "Funny one, I see. And it's a surprise for your enemies, of course! You can launch a small fireball out of the dagger!"

Interesting…

"Don't need it."

The excitement on the Dwarf's face melted off, and he gawked at me with a blank expression. I could tell he wasn't pleased with my sudden and abrupt denial of his product, so I removed the ruby tag from my shirt. His eyes went wide, and I could feel the regret rolling off of him as he began verbally back peddling.

"I didn't know. I am so—"

"It's fine. I enjoyed our little skit. I'm not in search of weapons or magic items." I looked down at my shabby hand-me-down shirt and my barely passable pants. "I'm in need of clothing."

The Dwarf's panicked face turned thoughtful once more as he swept away the drapes covering the back of his stall. I could see a shared space for the vendors and their inventories. I noticed a silver full plate armor suit, and a sudden thought crossed my mind.

"Before that, can I try that on?"

The Dwarf happily allowed me to try on the suit of armor, which turned out to be a set commissioned by a knight. Of course, the knight wasn't pleased when the armor came out a few sizes too small, so it ended up perfectly fitting an Elf like me.

It took two people to put the thing on, so of course, the Dwarf helped me while explaining the process in great detail. However, all the things you had to do just to put the stuff on made my head spin, and I immediately felt bad for anyone who decided to wear this stuff.

Do Ilme and others really like this stuff? This is just a massive pain..

I was moving around in the armor now, and it wasn't all that difficult with my mana-enhanced body. Of course, I doubt any Human on Earth was capable of moving like this while wearing something similar. But even without mana, I was surprised by just how flexible the armor was.

However…

It still sucked. At least for me, it did. The armor was heavy, and although I could counteract that with mana, it still took more mana than usual to achieve things I could already do without the stuff weighing me down.

I'd never seen an Elf wear heavy armor before either, and the second I slid the helmet on my head and it covered my ears, I instantly regretted even giving the idea any thought. My ears had grown even more sensitive after my growth spurt, and covering them made my skin crawl and bothered me to no end.

Part of me was hoping it would feel like my old armor, but I realized that was nothing more than a pipe dream. Recreating my armor from my previous life was, strictly speaking, impossible. So it seems heavy armor like this is not in my future.

With a defeated shake of my head, the Dwarf merchant helped me out of the armor. While taking off the last sabaton and nearly tripping, I noticed a pile of clothes lying on the ground behind the chair I was using. On top of the pile was a simple brown sack, and it felt… oddly familiar.

I undid the tie on the sack and peered inside to see it stuffed with all different types of clothing.

"Leave it to an Elf to sniff out their own handiwork. Or did you hear it calling to you with those ears?" the Dwarf chuckled.

"You could say that. Where are these from?"

"All of those are from Tel'an'duth. Bought a random shipment of clothes from a merchant last year," he answered.

"I see…" I ran my hands over the clothes, and they all did seem Elven in style. Elegant cuts of fabrics lightly embroidered with silvers and white adornments. Most were made for Elven builds, so they were all slim-fitting, which wasn't necessarily a good thing for me. If I planned on growing bigger, I wouldn't want my clothes not to fit me in a month. Wasting money was a habit I did not want to form.

While inspecting a shirt, the back of my hand rubbed against a bundle of clothes making my heart sink in my chest. I began frantically trying to find the article of clothing responsible for my actions. It only took me a few moments until I brought out a beautiful handmade cream-colored cloak. It was a few shades darker than my current skin tone, but its appearance didn't matter.

I immediately unfolded the cloak and went straight for the neckline. My fingers ran across the stitching, and at that moment, I was glad I was wearing a mask as a single hot tear rolled down my face. I brought the hem to my face and read it just in case my hands were playing tricks on me.

SSH 08-05-CDE

There was no doubt in my mind—the tingling feeling on my skin. The fabric wasn't regular fabric or some random monster hide. It was manaweave. And the stitching from the creator confirmed everything.

This cloak was made by my mother, Seana Shadowheart. And she finished making this cloak two years ago in the fall, in the eighth month in the fifth year of the Chaos Dragon Emperor Calendar.

Mom's alive.

Relief washed over me like a warm blanket. My heart fluttered, and my mind felt floaty. Knowing for sure that my mother was still alive was some of the best news I've had in years. There was always a gnawing in the back of my head that maybe my parents had perished.

"You like it that much, or are you some weirdo that hugs clothes?" the Dwarf asked from behind me.

"How much for this cloak?"

The Dwarf sauntered over and pinched the fabric. "Two large silver, and it's yours."

Overpriced, but that's fine.

"I'll take it."

The Dwarf shrugged his shoulders and flourished a pair of fuzzy pants that, quite frankly, looked ridiculous. "This right here are pants made from the fur of a Northern Brax Gray Rat. The fur gives it a slight resistance to earth magic and mediumish resistance to slashing." The Dwarf grinned. "Interested? It would look good with that cloak."

We live in a world where Dragons fly in the skies, and giant sea creatures stalk the oceans. Why would anyone want to wear clothing made from the corpse of a giant dead rodent? You have almost an infinite amount of options…

"I'll pass… but do you have any clothing for Humans?"

I ended up walking out of the Dwarf's stall relatively happy with myself. He made me overspend for the cloak, which was fine since I haggled everything else down after that. I made my way towards a cobbler to get something new for my cold feet, but I took a moment to admire my new outfit. I didn't think myself to be very fashion-conscious, but I for one thought I did a good job.

I picked out a primarily black robe made out of some monster fur I already forgot. The robe was trimmed with a silver-white fabric, and the cuffs were dark violet, almost black. It gave me far less protection than my Gloatih hide clothing that Deguzman gave me, but that was to be expected. I didn't want to splurge on clothing when there was a good chance it wouldn't fit me in a few months.

The robe actually had pants that were made to match. Unfortunately, they were a slim-fitting style, but I thought it prudent to buy them since they matched. They were the same color as my robe's trim, after all. I was relieved to see that these pants were made for mages, and despite looking almost like dress slacks, they were still breathable and flexible. They were also made out of monster parts and offered more protection than just a simple pair of pants.

I should have gotten some fabric to repair this stuff… it was only a matter of time…

Mother's cloak rested on my shoulders and connected across my chest with a simple band. I was tempted to buy a winter coat, but the manaweave Mom used regulated my temperature perfectly, just like my old tunic did. Only my head and feet were feeling the cold bite of the winter air.

Oof.

I was walking along the street to get to the cobbler when a small child burst out from a store and ran headfirst into my stomach. The poor child twirled around and fell face-first into a pile of snow that was piled up just outside the store and dropped the basket he was holding.

He was wearing a thick winter coat, and he didn't immediately move. A small amount of panic struck me as I thought I had maybe hurt the kid. I grabbed him by the scruff of his hood and hefted him back up to his feet with ease.

The child brushed the snow off and turned to face me with swirling dark gray eyes and dark skin. His black hair flowed out from his hood and went down to the middle of his chest and a pair of small droopy ears sprouted from the side of his head, peeking out from the hood. His facial features were soft and rounded like a Human, but he wasn't a Human. If it wasn't for my internal Elven instincts telling me he was a male; I might have thought he was a little girl. It was my first time seeing another Dark Elf before, well, besides Dad.

I guess we are getting closer to Luminar, where the Shadow Clan is. Maybe I'll start seeing more Dark Elves? His hair is so long. Longer than mine was at his age.

"Sorry, mister…" the boy said meekly while picking up his basket and holding it close to his chest.

"It's okay. Are you hurt anywhere?"

The boy nervously shook his head, and I realized I had been crowding him. I wasn't used to being this big and tall again and had to remind myself I didn't look like a little kid anymore.

"What's in your basket?" I asked, trying to sound as gentle as possible.

In the wooden wicker basket was an assortment of different colored paper wrapped around something. "Chocolate, mister." The boy's eyes lit up, and he flashed me a smile. "Would you like to buy some?" he asked me cheerfully.

"Let's see… how much for one?"

"Twenty-four silver, mister."

The boy was still smiling, but I could tell he was straining himself after he mentioned the price. Twenty-four silver was a lot of money for a piece of chocolate the size of your thumb. In Sandervile, a meal at an inn costs you about two or three silver, and the drink isn't much more. Even here in Whieland, a meal will cost around double that.

I picked up a single piece of the candy, dropped the silver into the basket, and unwrapped it. The chocolate was darker than the candy Adria had given me from a store in Luminar. Chocolate… was a weird thing to think about.

In my previous life, I got curious when I noticed that every marine, regardless of rank, got a bar of dark chocolate in their rations. Humanity even dedicated entire planets to the production of chocolate, and for some aliens, it was outright toxic for them to consume. At first, I imagined chocolate to be nothing more than junk food that I had on a single occasion, and back then, I wasn't much of a fan. But I got curious one day while doing inventory and went down a rabbit hole that lasted far longer than I care to admit.

I learned that chocolate actually had some health benefits. It promoted blood flow and made for a healthier heart. Not to mention the chemicals in chocolate that made Humans happy, most people liked a good bar of chocolate, myself included. But the thing about chocolate was that it was difficult to make.

First, you had to find the cacao beans, then ferment them. The fermentation process was tricky, and there were plenty of factors that could ruin the chocolate before it even became chocolate. Then you had to dry the fermented beans, assuming you even got to this stage in the first place. A single error in the drying process would see your entire batch ruined.

And after all that, you have to run everything through a conching process that lasts for over twenty-four hours. Finally, through all these poorly remembered and abridged processes that I've mostly forgotten, you got chocolate.

Making chocolate was an exact science, and the Humanity of my old life had machines and science to accomplish mass production. But this world did not, and I doubted magic could make up the difference.

Could it be that someone introduced chocolate to this world from mine? Not only to the nobles of this world but to the general populace? I wonder…

The Dark Elf boy looked up at me expectantly as the chocolate began melting on my fingers. I realized I had been staring at this piece of chocolate for far too long, so I shoved it away into my storage ring.

"Now then you have… thirty-seven… no thirty-nine pieces of chocolate? That's 936 silver, so nine large silver and some spare change. How about this?" I dropped a single gold coin into the basket, and the boy let out a gasp. "I'll buy everything you have."

The shop door flung open at that moment, and a woman wearing a dirty apron stood in the doorway. She glared at me for a second, then as her gaze drifted up past my mask and onto my ears, her face morphed into concern and maybe even a bit of fear. She had long black hair tied in a single braid going down her back, and she was looking suspiciously at me with light orange eyes. This was my first time seeing another adult Dark Elf and a female at that.

She was more built than a Wood or High Elf, which probably means being big isn't exclusive to Dad but something all Dark Elves had in common. I thought maybe we were related somehow, but she didn't resemble Dad whatsoever. At least to me she didn't.

"Is there something wrong, sir?"

Her voice was cold and even and just like her attitude. She seemed to be outright hostile to me, and for a second I didn't understand why. Then I gave her another look, and despite her beauty, she had a few white scars running across her dark skin.

The Shadow Clan was a nomadic band of Dark Elves that didn't settle down in The Barrens. Instead, they made their way in the world as sellswords and adventurers, the most famous being Shadow Dancers, the clan's elites. Occasionally, you might find one that settled down, but they were the exception, not the rule.

Not that she was a Shadow Dancer. If anything she must have just been a soldier. But that knife she is trying to conceal is worrisome.

The Shadow Clan fought in the most recent war that plagued this continent on the side of the Old Brax Empire, which fell to an internal coup and was rebranded as the Kingdom of Luminar. And the Old Empire was fighting against the Empire of Tel'an'duth, a High Elf nation. So this woman most likely spent decades, maybe even centuries fighting High Elves. And right now, I'm Voker Winterheart, and I look very much like your typical High Elf standing menacingly over her little boy.

"Nothing at all. I was just making a purchase," I responded flatly.

I looked behind the woman and into her shop. It appeared to be a bakery and sweets kind of shop. A thought crossed my mind, and I suddenly realized that I had made a big mistake recently.

I felt guilty for even forgetting…

The mother was speaking quietly to her son, and when he showed her the gold coin, her eyes lit up.

"Ma'am, do you think I could browse your shop for a while? There are some things I would like to buy from you."

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Family Artwork- https://imgur.com/a/9rjEOMR

Vol.4 Cover- https://imgur.com/gallery/nfZMIzW

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