Kitshaar
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Vol. 2 Ch. 8: Oath
🕑 Added 2025-06-11 13:13:42 +0000 UTCAuthor's note:
Recurring characters:
Peter: The protagonist of the story.
Mariah: Mother of Peter.
Edited and proofread by SnazzyCub.
Recap:
Peter waited until he received a nod from Mariah before continuing, “We’re going to the Rosefall, not away.” he pointed at the carriages, “Look, these carriages are facing toward your home. Just don’t try to run away like earlier. The route isn’t safe.”
....
Mariah followed his gaze, then tipped her head back to scan the sky. Her eyes narrowed, taking in the sun’s position in the sky. She lowered her gaze to the ground, referencing its shadow to track the sun’s arc with practised precision. She frowned, her face twisted in displeasure—he was right.
“It's not easy for me to fully trust right now,” she said, spitting to the side. Her gaze burned into him unflinching, without breaking eye contact.
Internally, she was a mess. Fear stole control of her mind, her body stiffening. Her heartbeat echoed loud and clear in her eardrums. Despite that, she made sure to keep her face neutral. No trembling, no flinching, and not a single tear. She didn’t want to show any weakness to her captor despite the dread etched deep into her bones.
“I am no fool,” she said, balling her hand into fists. She looked him from head to toe, her lips turned into a scowl, “A child your age can’t be intelligent enough to talk like this. Nor could they be as powerful as you. I’ve seen your true form.”
“I—” Peter hesitated, multiple thoughts swirling in his head. ‘Should I tell her about me? Caution aside, will she even believe me?’ he thought, his mental turmoil visible on his face.
‘Why is she questioning my intelligence? No one did it in the village,’ he mused, taking a deep breath. ‘Is it because she has seen me using my title?’ he wondered, sparing a glance at Deathknell before returning his gaze to her.
“What can I do to earn your trust?” he asked, looking hopeful.
Mariah's smile stretched to the ends, her heart filled with pride. She had been waiting. “Swear an oath,” she whispered, leaning forward. “If you’re really who you claim to be, you shouldn’t have any qualms about giving me an oath,” she said, staring at him unblinking.
“Trust needs to be earned,” Mariah proclaimed aloud before pointing her chin at her limbs. “You haven’t done much to warrant my trust, the opposite in fact.”
“You—” she sneered, lips curling as if the very sight of him left a bitter taste on her tongue, “—are a living example of what I prefer to avoid.” Her voice dripped with venom, each word laced with barely restrained revulsion. “I watched you use foul sorcery with my own eyes. Of course, you'd choose to hide behind the face of a child—Cowardice suits you.”
Each of her words hit Peter like a physical blow, shaking him to the core. His face twisted in sorrow. “It’s not sorcery,” he muttered, after a sigh. “It’s spirit magic…,” he added after a moment of silence.
“I’m willing to take the oath,” he said, a small, steady smile on his face. He held her gaze, his eyes calm and unwavering. He took a deep breath, stood up and freed up with gentle hands. “You can decide how it is to be worded.”
Mariah shifted her arms, rubbing them as she mulled over his words. Her gaze drifted around the campsite, scrutinising every detail with a calmer head. She failed to find another human besides them.
“The oath—” she said, voice firm, “—should guarantee my safety until I set foot again in Rosefall. Swear that you hold no hidden intentions against me. No lies, no tricks—just that.”
Peter smiled at her, looking completely unconcerned as he uttered, “I hereby vow, with the System as our witness, to ensure your safety to the best of my ability until the moment you stand once more in Rosefall. Furthermore, I swear in System’s name that I hold no foul intentions against you.”
Mariah’s eyes widened, her eyebrows raised in surprise, ‘An oath to the system?!’ She expected him to take an oath to Orvandel, the god of law and contracts.
‘That was tradition—sacred, dangerous, and binding. An oath to Orvandel required obedience.’ She tipped her head upwards. The moons were present somewhere in the sky, despite not yet visible. ‘Breaking such an oath might be possible, yes, but who in their right mind would invite divine wrath? Orvandel’s fury was known to everyone. No city, guild, or temple would shelter someone awaiting his judgment.’
‘One can maybe hide from Orvandal, but the System? It was omnipresent, omnipotent and omniscient…,’ Mariah thought, waiting for the oath to bind them both. A breeze blew in sideways, extinguishing the fire. Mariah closed her eyes reflexively, shielding them from the dust.
Once the wind had settled, runes started to appear on the ground. Mariah slowly rotated her head, gaze fixed on the ground, fascination etched on her face. A magical circle was being drawn right where they stood. Once the circle was complete, it pulsed with mana, glowing in a mix of blue and gold light.
The ambient mana around the campsite surged into the circle, becoming visible to the naked eye as it floated around them like fog. Mariah raised her hands to scrutinise them as she felt the fog invade her pores and enter her mana pathways. Peter was experiencing the same.
The ambient mana permeated their pathways, reversing the mana flow from their souls. They both grimaced. Once the mana crossed a threshold, their souls burst forth beyond their mortal shells and into the world.
Peter’s soul felt vast compared to hers. The weight of his spiritual presence slammed down on Mariah’s shoulders, forcing the wind out of her. She gasped for air as her knees buckled, just as the runic circle glowed brighter, and the ambient mana between their souls formed a binding chain, tying them together.
Mariah heard a sudden scream, making her flinch, her heart lurching. She spun toward the sound—Peter. He had collapsed to his knees, breath ragged, sweat pouring down his face as if he’d just been dragged through a furnace. His hands trembled, clutching at the earth. His jaw clenched. Tears flowed from his eyes.
Mariah felt an ache in her chest as he writhed in pain. She turned her face away, unable to watch. She wiped her eyes and stared at the wetness on her palm. ‘Why am I crying?’ She frowned in confusion as she felt the urge to step forward and assist the boy who was clearly in agony.
The process was over soon enough, and the circle disappeared. Mariah approached Peter with hesitant steps. He was shivering. She sat down and started to rub his back. “Don’t you have a pain resistance skill?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I do,” Peter said, his lips twisted in a grimace. “It was just suppressed like the rest when the oath binding took place,” he added, sighing in relief as his skills started to reactivate once the circle disappeared. He was back to his feet in moments, his face without even a phantom of the pain from earlier.
Mariah gave him some space. She rubbed her elbows, looking around to avoid meeting his gaze. “Where do we go from here?” She asked, gazing at the horses.
“We’ll stay here tonight,” Peter remarked, “Finding a stream to refill our water supplies will be our top priority tomorrow before we continue heading to Rosefall,” he said, walking toward the extinguished campfire.
“Seems fair,” Mariah curtly nodded, finally meeting his gaze. “Anything that I can help with?”
“Well…,” Peter looked around before returning his sight to her, “If you can handle smaller tasks, I can focus more on the bigger ones.”
“Such as?” Mariah enquired, stepping forward to stand alongside him.
“You can clean the utensils, maybe add some more wood to the campfire? You can also handle the cooking," Peter remarked as he attempted to rekindle the campfire. “You can leave the rest to me,” he continued.
Mariah nodded, “And how long will it take us to get there?”
“It’ll be nearly a month by my calculation,” he replied with a shrug. “We can’t travel after dark, and we need to resupply occasionally, which may force us to take a detour or two,” he smiled, rising after rekindling the fire.
“I see,” Mariah mumbled, her lips pressed thinly. She stared at the campfire, her eyes flickering with anxiety, her jaw shifting like she was debating whether to continue this conversation. She sighed, expelling disappointment. Her eyes regained some clarity. When she looked back at Peter, her eyes held the weight of someone who had begrudgingly accepted reality.
“Why swear by the System and not Orvandel?” Mariah asked, her gaze narrowing slightly as it lingered on him. Her tone had no accusation—just a desire to know his reasons. He was still a mystery to her.
‘If we are going to travel together,’ she thought, waiting for his answer, ‘I should be able to trust him. He definitely earned some by taking the oath, but he is still suspicious.’
Peter didn’t answer for a bit. A shadow passed through his gaze, gone as quickly as it came. He didn’t look away, but something in his posture shifted, tense and cautious. The truth lingered on his tongue, but his lips remained shut. Without the power to protect herself, knowing his secrets could get her killed. He closed his eyes and sighed.
“I was able to access the system from an early age,” he said, rubbing his hands. His gaze watched her, scrutinising her reaction. Mariah raised an eyebrow, her face twisted in confusion and doubt.
“Really? How?” she asked, her tone filled with disbelief.
“I can’t tell you, but it allowed me to increase my spirit stat to a very high number,” he said, shaking his head.
“How high?” Mariah asked, tilting her head. Her eyes burned with curiosity, even as she had struggled to believe his story.
Peter sighed, turning to the campfire. He added a few twigs to the fire, hesitation playing into his face. “I’m level 41, and currently it’s 321,” he muttered, staring into the flames.
Mariah leaned back, her eyes bulged in disbelief. Her mouth flopped like a fish for a few seconds as her mind replayed the events of the oath-taking. The latest revelations put those events into a new light for her.
‘Just level 41?!’ She shook her head, finding herself unable to believe it. She learned that his soul eclipsed hers when the circle dragged it onto the world. The pressure. The weight. ‘Avaris’ be damned! How high must his mana pool be!?’
She scoffed, arms folding tight across her chest. “I hope you realise what you’re saying. It’s—It’s just absurd. If raising stats was that easy…”
“It is,” Peter cut in, his voice low but firm. His eyes locked onto hers, unwavering. “I had a skill. I kept using it to empty my mana pool every day until I was five winters old. As a result, it kept growing.”
Mariah let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, shattering the tension around them. She pressed a hand to her forehead, shaking her head. “You really believe that? Many have tried that trick before you—and yes!” She gestured sharply, eyes glinting. “There might be some increase if it is done right,” she said, voice tight with uncertainty. “But the kind of increase you’re talking about?” Her head shook slowly, brows furrowed, “No way. Not a chance.”
Peter’s fingers drifted to his chin, thumb tracing the edge of his jaw as his eyes narrowed. His gaze was distant as he gave her words some thought. The fire crackled softly, filling the silence as he weighed her words. ‘Could it have something to do with my reincarnation?’ The question tugged at him, igniting a quiet but relentless curiosity inside him. A quick flick of his eyes to the status screen made him grimace. He only had enough mana for emergencies. Nothing more. ‘I should study stats—as soon as possible. Maybe in the morning.’
...End Of Chapter...
