Chapter 8

When the bright light of the teleportation spell faded away, I expected to find my feet on solid ground. It never came. Instead, when I opened my eyes, I found myself three feet above a cart full of cabbages. Midfall, I made a quick mental note of beating up the Order's teleportation specialists the next time I saw them. They literally had one job! I landed with an unceremonious thud, and cabbages flew in every direction.

“My cabbages!” I heard the owner of the cart wail. I looked up at him, clutching his head as if I'd just destroyed his life's work.

Not wanting to make too much of a scene, I got up quickly and brushed the cabbage leaves off my clothes.

“Sorry about that,” I said, rummaging through my pockets for the pouch I had received from Lyra. “Blame the teleportation spell. I’m just as much the victim here.”

I finally managed to take out a gold coin and put it in the distraught man’s pocket. I didn't yet understand the currency in this world, but I hoped it would suffice.

The man didn’t say anything and simply looked at me like I had just murdered his children. I couldn’t imagine cabbages being that valuable, even in this world.

“Any chance you could tell me where I am?” I asked the merchant.

He kept glaring at me, his eyes full of menace.

With a sigh, I took out another coin and held it up.

The scowl on his face softened slightly, though it didn’t fade entirely as the man answered gruffly, “Spuria.”

At least they had managed to get the town right. Not that it mattered much because as long as I wasn’t in that damn forest anymore, I was happy.

I handed him the coin and started to walk away. Before I got out of earshot, I heard him mutter, “Damn mages and their teleportation spells.”

I looked around, taking in the chaotic sights and sounds of what I assumed was the town square.

The buildings were made out of a blend of sturdy stone and weathered wood, their rooftops sloping unevenly as if they had been built by a dozen different hands, each with their own idea of how a home should be. Strung across the square from one building to another were brightly colored golden banners fluttering in the breeze, with a white dragon adorned on all of them. The square itself was jam-packed with people and market stalls, the air buzzing with the sound of merchants enthusiastically calling out their goods or haggling with customers. It all blended together into a chaotic symphony of commerce.

I kept walking, veering away from the children who chased each other through the maze of stalls, their laughter echoing through the bustling square. I walked past an old man sitting at the square's edge, strumming a lute and singing some ballad. I could barely hear him over the clanging of a hammer from the blacksmith’s workshop just behind him. The blacksmith was hammering down a plate of armor with two armored men standing beside him. They looked like soldiers and had the same white dragon from the banners emblazoned on their own armor.

A rare sense of calm washed over me as I wandered through the square, taking it all in. Back home, I hated going to loud public places. But after spending a few days with shadowy beasts, cultists, and all-around freaks, the chaos of the town square felt almost comforting. For once, I wasn’t running for my life or being dragged into someone else’s drama. Here, among the hustle and bustle of ordinary people, I could almost pretend I was just another traveler passing through on an uneventful journey.

Then the horn blared.

The jovial atmosphere of the town square shattered almost immediately. Merchants abandoned their stalls, parents scooped up their children, and chaos erupted as everyone started fleeing in different directions. A squad of armored soldiers rushed past me with grim and determined expressions, clutching spears in their hands.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I muttered. “But this time, I'm definitely not letting myself get pulled into another mess.”

As I stood there, trying to decide which fleeing townsfolk to follow in order to make a quick getaway, I felt a sharp tug on the pouch of gold at my waist. I turned just in time to see a scrawny guy dart away with my money.

“Oh, come on!” I shouted, taking off after him.

I chased the thief through the panicked crowd. He led me through narrow alleys and winding streets, climbing up walls and pushing people away. I stayed on his tail, making sure not to lose sight of him.

The chase brought me into view of the town walls. They were about twenty-five feet high, built of solid stone, and covered in moss. Soldiers scrambled onto the battlements, quickly forming a solid line at the top.

The thief ducked into a stone building next to the wall, and I rushed in after him. Before my eyes could fully adjust to the darkness of the interior, I tackled him to the ground.

We wrestled for the pouch for a while, clawing, kicking, punching, and choking each other. He had a surprising amount of strength for a scrawny guy.

“Hand it over!” I growled.

“Let go of me, you lunatic!” he snapped, squirming like a fish out of water.

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Before I could secure my stolen gold, a shadow loomed over us. We both paused our bout and looked up at the massive man clad in golden armor standing over us, his face a mask of authority. The man’s towering figure and golden armor reminded me of a medieval gym trainer. In one smooth motion, he grabbed both of us by the collars and hauled us to our feet as if we weighed nothing.

“You two must be the new recruits,” he said gruffly. “Just in time. The goblins are almost here.”

“Wait, what?” I managed, but the man wasn’t listening.

Before I knew it, he thrust a shield and a spear into my arms, then did the same for the thief.

“Sorry, no time for you to put on armor. Just try to survive for now.”

Before either of us could protest, he shoved us out the door towards the town walls.

In what felt like seconds, I found myself atop the battlements alongside the other soldiers. My eyes scanned the field beyond the town walls, and it didn't take me long to find out why the townspeople had been panicking.

Every inch of the field, stretching for a hundred meters beyond the wall, was covered entirely by a horde of screeching little monsters. They looked just like the goblins in a video game: short, green, waving about crude and rusty weapons of all types. From their appearance, it was clear they were driven by low intelligence and had a sort of evil glee apparent on their faces.

At the center of the horde was a massive goblin, fatter than the others and larger even than the soldier who had handed me my spear. He sat in the middle of a palanquin carried by about two dozen of the smaller goblins who staggered under his weight and were barking orders in a guttural language. He was clearly the leader.

In a normal fight, two big children could easily take down a single goblin. A soldier could probably have taken on two at a time. But from the number of soldiers I had seen up on the wall and the size of the approaching horde, I could tell it was going to be a massacre.

Unless the soldiers had some sort of secret weapon, which I had doubts about.

I took one look at the soldier to my right, and saw him crying and praying for forgiveness. He told some Goddess that he was coming to her side and asked her to embrace him.

“Guess that means no secret weapon,” I whispered to myself.

“This is a mistake,” the thief muttered beside me, clutching his spear like it was a lifeline.

“You think?” I shot back. I had managed to grab my pouch when the soldier interrupted us and had it pocketed away from his scrawny, pickpocketing hands.

Still, I half contemplated stabbing the thief with my spear. After all, it was this guy’s fault I was in this mess in the first place. I decided against it. When the goblins started to climb the walls, I knew I would need all the meat shields I could get.

I spotted the officer from earlier. It was very easy, considering he towered over nearly everyone else there. He locked eyes with me and shouted, “You! Recruit! Show us what you’ve got!”

I sighed and lifted my spear. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

With zero enthusiasm, I hurled the spear toward the nearest goblins. I wasn’t aiming for anything in particular—just hoping to look busy enough to avoid further scrutiny. But as luck would have it, the spear sailed straight into the chest of the goblin chief. He let out a strangled cry before tumbling from his horse.

The battlefield froze. For a moment, even the goblins seemed too stunned to react. Then, as one, they broke ranks and fled in terror, their shrill cries echoing across the fields.

The soldiers erupted into cheers, and before I knew it, they’d hoisted me onto their shoulders.

“Hero of Spuria!” they chanted, parading me along the wall.

“Put me down!” I protested, but they were too busy celebrating.

The crowd had quickly turned into a full-blown riot, and no one was hearing my demands. Even the large officer was waving his spear about happily, too.

One of the soldiers carrying me jokingly said, "Hey, when you get your reward, make sure to buy us a few drinks, recruit!"

There was a big laugh at this, and it gave me an idea.

I reached for my pouch once more, took out a couple of coins, and held them tightly. Then, I pulled out the rest and threw those into the air with a flourish.

The soldiers immediately dropped me, scrambling for the gold. I landed hard on the stone wall but didn’t waste the opportunity. While they fought over the coins, forgetting all about their so-called hero, I slipped away, leaving the chaos behind.

It took me an entire evening of dodging the soldiers and scurrying to find a quiet place. But I finally found myself at the edge of the town in a very shady neighborhood. Tucked between two crumbling buildings, I found exactly what I had been looking for; an inn. I needed a drink or two after the past few days' events.

The inn was dimly lit and run down. The wooden beams overhead creaked as the wind howled outside, and compared to the rest of the city, which was still celebrating jubilantly, this place was eerily quiet. But I didn’t care. All I needed was some alcohol in my system.

I put down one of my remaining gold coins on the bar and looked at the innkeeper.

“Get me all the cheap alcohol this can buy.”

Apparently, it was a lot because the innkeeper put five whole bottles on the table. I shook my head at the glass he offered and began to drink straight out of the bottle without pausing to breathe.

I drank for nearly two hours. But nothing happened. I was beginning to fear the innkeeper had scammed me, but then I saw a man next to me collapse, murmuring in a drunken haze after drinking from the same type of bottle.

Then, out of nowhere, a realization hit me. The woman from the hut, the one I had seen when I’d first woken up, had said I was immortal. I had even survived eating berries that were supposed to be poisonous. Did that mean my body was registering alcohol as a poison and just ‘curing’ me of it?

“This is the worst power a man can have,” I sighed and made to walk away, suddenly deprived of my one hope for letting loose.

Then I saw him.

The cultist I’d kicked earlier in the day sat in the corner, nursing his own drink. It wasn’t easy to forget his bushy red beard. He seemed even more pathetic than when he was writhing in pain on the ground.

“Oh, it’s you,” he groaned when he noticed me. “Here to kick me while I’m down again?”

I felt a tinge of regret and contemplated my reply. Finally, I sighed and joined him at the table. “Look, I was having a bad day. Let me buy you a drink.”

I put my remaining bottle in front of him.

He eyed me suspiciously but eventually nodded. Even though it had no effect on me, I shared a few drinks with him, and before long, he began to tell me his life story.

“I’m terrible at being evil,” he confessed, his words slurring slightly. “I only joined the Cult for the dental benefits. But now… I hate it. I hate all of it.”

"Yeah, you don't have the whole 'dark overlord minion' vibe," I said. "Have you ever thought about doing something else?"

He stared into his drink. “I always did like baking…”

“There you go,” I said, clapping him on the back. “Follow your dreams. Life’s too short to waste on stuff you hate.”

His eyes lit up as if I’d handed him the meaning of life on a silver platter. “You think I can do it?”

Inwardly, I thought he looked like the type of guy who could mess up his breathing and choke on his own spit, but I wasn't going to burst his bubble.

Outwardly, I grinned and said, “Absolutely, open a bakery. Selling pies has got to pay better than creeping around in some forest and making vague threats, right?”

We laughed, the strange camaraderie between a reluctant hero and a failed villain growing with each round of drinks. For the first time since I landed in this insane world, I truly enjoyed myself. Maybe it was because I found someone more pitiful than myself.