Classless Awakening; My Dragon Is Legendary-Chapter 37: Golden Goose returns

Derrick stepped into the study and pulled the heavy door shut behind him.

The room was warm thanks to the fire burning in the chimney.

Sir Thompson was seated behind a large desk covered in scrolls and old artifacts.

His eyes had lit up the second Derrick walked in through that door.

"Sit down, Derrick," he said, his voice calm and familiar.

He moved to the chair and lowered himself into it carefully, still holding the stiff posture of the old man’s disguise.

He looked across the desk at the face of the man who had shaped him into the warrior he was today.

"Take off that ugly disguise," Sir Thompson said, laughing. He had clearly never seen anything more ridiculous in his life.

Derrick laughed too, though his came out dry and hollow. He pulled back the hood and removed the coat, setting them aside.

Sir Thompson smiled. "Now. Tell me everything."

Derrick opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn’t know where to start from, a lot of things had happened to him in the short span of a few months.

From failing the awakening, to gaining the dragon spirit, Klea leaving him, almost getting assassinated, unleashing beasts upon Dravania, it was all too much.

Sir Thompson didn’t say anything. He just stood up slowly, walked around the desk, and placed a large hand on Derrick’s shoulder.

"Calm down Derrick, tell me everything that happened."

That was all it took, Derrick’s mind calmed down, and he said the first words that came to his mind.

"I’m scared, I’ve trained hard in the past few months, harder than you’ve ever pushed me, but still, I don’t think I can beat Ivan."

He heaved a heavy sigh, it felt good to finally get that off his chest.

"I failed the awakening test, I don’t have any magic, I don’t have anything else, besides my swordsmanship and physical prowess, how can I beat Ivan with that."

"Derrick, if your swordsmanship and physical prowess is all you have, then you have all you need." Sir Thompson’s words touched Derrick the right way.

Sir Thompson always knew the words to say in every situation, one of the reasons he was Dravania’s best diplomatic knight.

"I can’t shake the feeling that I’m going to fail." Derrick knew how much Sir Thompson believed in him, and he was grateful for that, but he couldn’t deny the obvious.

Sir Thompson didn’t say anything, he stopped to actually look at the fear in Derrick’s eyes.

If Derrick went into battle like this, even an untrained fighter could kill him.

"Failure is a subjective term, it all depends on how you look at it." Sir Thompson said before folding his hands.

"Fear is not a bad thing Derrick, it’s a simple biological instinct." Sir Thompson said with all honesty.

"Fear is what keeps the lion alive, when a hunter pursues him, the lion runs not cause it is weak, but because it knows proving its strength at the risk of its own life is unwise." Sir Thompson explained.

Each word that left his mouth, went straight into Derrick’s soul, gradually relieving the fear in his eyes.

"But fear has two sides. The same thing that keeps the deer alive can keep the warrior frozen on the ground, unable to draw his blade.

"That is where courage comes in. Courage is not the absence of fear. It is the decision to move forward despite it. Because some things are worth the risk."

His voice dropped lower, and his eyes locked onto Derrick’s.

"Fear protects the body. Courage saves the soul."

Derrick nodded slowly. He had heard Sir Thompson teach before, he knew he was the only one who could help him.

In just a few minutes, the man had done what weeks of training under Royal Knight had not managed to do.

Sir Thompson went back to his seat, giving Derrick a moment to digest what he just said, before asking the next question.

"Now." Sir Thompson took a slight pause.

"Tell me about Klea and Lancel. I heard things have been difficult."

Derrick took a slow breath. The first truly calm one since he had entered the room.

"I’m not angry anymore, I’m just... Sad."

Sir Thompson looked closely at Derrick, the pain in his words was evident, it was the kind of pain no teacher would ever wish on their student.

"Love is a hard thing," Sir Thompson said. "And in a season like this one, it should not be at the front of your mind."

"I know." Derrick stared at the fire, trying to distract himself.

"I just keep asking why the gods had to do it this way."

The position Lancel and Klea had in his heart had been violently ripped out, leaving nothing but a black hole.

Each waking day, Derrick could feel the emptiness in his soul.

Sir Thompson shook his head, Derrick’s emotional state was pitiable.

"You should thank the gods, they cut irrelevant people out of your life early." Sir Thompson said with a smile.

Derrick laughed, a small but genuine chuckle.

’He always knows how to frame the worst things,’ he thought.

They talked for a while longer. About the manor, about Dravania, about small memories from Derrick’s years of training on the mountain.

It was easy conversation, the kind that healed something without trying to.

Eventually Derrick stood, and reached for his cane.

"I should go, I have a duel to prepare for."

He reached for the trench coat but Sir Thompson stopped him with a look.

"I’m not letting you leave in that." He shook his head.

He opened a side door. Outside stood an attendant beside a plain black carriage with dark windows and no crests.

"This should take you to your manor discreetly."

Derrick left the coat on the floor without argument. He felt lighter than he had in months.

Sir Thompson walked him across the courtyard to the carriage. As Derrick reached for the door, Sir Thompson put a hand on his arm and leaned close.

"Word of your training has reached me," he said quietly. "You are no failure, Derrick. You are the best of us all."

Derrick held those words as the carriage door closed and the wheels began to move.