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Reincarnated to conquer worlds as a Spartan king

John Slick dies and is reborn in a new world Don't expect anything of value

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9 Chs

Takeover

No regular updates just felt like writing so I did, been over a year so writing style probably changed.

"Ghhhaa!" A girl screams out as she struggles to fight. Her small body catapulted into the dirt, her screams more of frustration more than pain as she loses for the thousandth time.

"Again!" I say, my voice full of frustration. I hate seeing such potential go to waste simply due to fear, with any luck I'll beat it out of her. She gets up, her hands in knees stained with dirt but her body otherwise in mint condition. With a roar she charges at me again and I go to meet her half way.

We connect with a thud, our palms and fists colliding with each other with force. She was quick and strong, but let her emotions control her thoughts and her instincts guide her actions. She unleashes a wayward jab with all her strength, I dodge and punch her armpit the arm falling limp, a kick follows, to which I step back not wasting the opportunity to stomp the side of her knee a crunch sounding as I shatter it.

She collapses in pain, unable to continue fighting. But I don't stop. A real enemy wouldn't. You break your leg on the battlefield you die, you flinch, you die, you even blink and you die. So no, I don't stop.

I rain punches down onto her from above, my blows merciless as I don't hesitate to strike her head and face.

"Ahh!" She screams in pain as I wail on her. Blood spills from torn flesh and shattered bones, my hands covered in it. I continue until she finally gathers her courage to stop me, realizing I won't otherwise. She lunges at my legs with all she can with her battered body. Stabbing the back of my knee with her elbow I fall down from the force on my muscles. Before I can grab her legs she brings her body behind me and without hesitation starts to pummel my skull as hard as she can.

She hits me with all the pain and suffering I brought upon her. The death of her parents, the enslaving of her friends, the torment of her training was all due to me. And she hated me.

'Good, finally growing some claws.' It's been a week and this is the first time in all our spars that she's ever struck back with such ferocity. My head gets punched and hit as I play the role of a normal combatant, my face falling into the dirt. She hardly lets up even a I play dead, continuing to beat the back of my head with all she can muster, until finally she stops, panting and out of breath. There were no injury's on my head nor any blood on her hands but she was a kid, and kids are stupid.

"Oh no, I killed him!" I continue to play dead even as I see her look around for any guards clearly more worried about being caught than actually killing me. There were none during our spars as the last thing I needed was a distracted student. She starts to stand up which is when I feel the game is over. As soon as her weight is off my back I reach around and hook her leg, roll to the side causing the off guard Laura to fall under me. Her face full of shock which then turns to fear as she sees I'm not even hurt in the least.

"Not quite." Standing up I hold my hand out for her to pull herself up with, to which she grudgingly accepts. Far from the maimed and bloody girl I previously made her into, in the span of less than a minute all of her wounds have already healed leaving not even a blemish.

"I'm glad you finally fought back, though if you ever kill me I recommend having a plan for after, anyways, come with me." Without further elaboration I leave the courtyard, she follows like a good little dog.

..

Traveling through the street we head toward a building in particular, there were two Spartans flaking us ensuring any wandering peasant wouldn't interact with us. The streets were mostly empty, the populace still reeling from the deaths of their husbands and kids. It was a reasonable fear, a reasonable hatred. One that I have great prospects on changing. After this period of subjugation I, of course, plan on granting these savages a modicum of prosperity. After all, the time I'll be known to rule a backwater village is the day I die.

Walking past a few shops and stalls we head to a shabby looking blacksmiths shop. A tall man with scars, and burn marks covering his arms and hands. The sweat from his brow evaporating on the blade and the dings of his hammer were the only sounds in the shop. His eyes squinted in focus and his arms taunt from the force of each blow to the malleable metal as his entire being is working this piece of steel. The blade rapidly cools and is due for another heating as he moves to do so, gripping the hunk of metal with long tongs.

The blacksmiths apprentice dutifully maintained the furnace, ensuring it was ready to reheat the now cool blade. He goes to reheat it but before he can he notices our arrival, stopping him in his tracks.

Hastily bowing he addresses me.

"milord, apologies for not noticing you earlier. I've heard I'm a terrible multitasker." Placing the blade on his anvil and motioning his apprentice to prepare a welcome he invites us into his home. The shop was simply a workshop with a tarp covering to protect from rain and the like, his home was attached to it and was much more proper. It was a plain medieval hut with wooden flooring, a glassless window with a single wood shutter along with a few rooms for storage or sleeping. The main room was similar to a dining hall with a bench in one corner and a furnace with a pot full of stew in another.

We take a seat at the table, my guards wait outside as instructed and the smith seat opposite me, very curious about why I would visit him with a strange girl in tow.

"What can I do for milord on this fine evening?" He says, accent apparent. As citizens in a feudal society where only nobility or wealthy merchants have the opportunity to learn or uplift their status, many people couldn't even read or write, let alone do complex math and engineering required for basic infrastructure and education; resulting in many gaining a broken or brutish accent. But this was an issue for another time.

"I need you to make a weapon, you are the only smith in the village so in exchange I'm willing to pay you handsomely." My words clear and precise leaving no room for refusal. With shaky breaths he speaks again.

"Thank you for the opportunity milord, I will happily accept; but, I usually only work with farm tools and other tings, I'm not sure how I can compare to the swords milords soldiers use so forgive me for askin but why doesn't milord ask the maker of those to make another.." With eyes on the table in fear of a lords unreasonable wrath he asks me why I don't just get her a sword the same way the soldiers got theirs. A good question honestly.

I could, of course, buy her a sword made of perfect steel, heated and shaped to perfection, balanced like a ballet dancer and sharp as a razor, of course I could.. but why would I. She does not deserve such a weapon let alone have the skill to wield it, plus, interacting with the local populace gives me a chance to foster good relations soon after my takeover. I learned swordcraft with a broom, so giving her anything with a sharp edge is generous from how I see it.

"She does not deserve such quality," I eye my protégé, the girl clicking her tongue in annoyance. She had pride, unearned pride. And if I had anything to do with it she would be humbled before her sword was ready.

"I have no intentions to disrespect your skill, but my soldiers weapons are perfect beyond anything you may hope to create." I've looked at them and even I would struggle make such perfect weapons. It was as if their atoms were prearranged in the shape of a blade, something that forging can hardly accomplish even with extensive time and effort.

He nods in acknowledgement fully knowing not to argue with me.

"Make her a gladius, one fit for a warrior, one designed for efficiency, If I see a single ornament or flourish I will melt it down to slag. You do know what a gladius is don't you?" Gladius's were famously roman/Greek so it would be normal if he has never made one before.

"fraid not milord, but I can guess it's what ya soldiers use?"

"Here, this will tell you how to make it, you have a year to give me something of quality, by then hopefully she'll be ready for weapons training." Opening my shop I buy an instruction manual on how to forge a roman sword, of course since he can't read it's all in pictures with little chibi characters and everything.

Handing it to him and sending him off he immediately calls his apprentice which I learn is actually his son, one that clearly fancies Laura based off his sticky eyes. I stand up and she follows me out and back onto the street, my soldier regaining their formation around us.

"So what is this all about? You know that if I get a sword I can kill you right?" She says behind me as we walk at a leisurely pace through the busy street, we continue as we enter into a small market place until I finally answer her.

"Consider this sword your graduation. If- and I mean if you can become strong enough in the next year then I will grant you a weapon, along with a single wish, after all, when your training a dog you have to give it a treat after a job well done." I pick up a piece of jewelery, a gold necklace with a ruby gemstone attached. It was dull in my opinion. Silver or pearls would've been a much better match with a ruby. Putting it down to the disappointment to the vendor we continue back to my shitty castle.