I wanted to eat the snake. I really did. It's probably for the best that I couldn't as the meat might be poisonous or something. The scales are too tough, anyways. I settle for burying it instead, and offering a small prayer to the worthy foe who had fought honorably. Well, not so much at the end, that part wasn't so honorable... and then there's the fact that it dragged its severely wounded head into the battle against its will... and the fact that it attacked me, unprovoked, on two separate occasions...

No, no, that's not really important. There was a fight, it lost, and it didn't completely dishonor itself in the process. Let's just leave it at that.

In a strange way, I do have to offer it some thanks, however. The outside world holds no more fear for me now. Okay, sure, maybe that snake did cause that fear in the first place, but it also helped me to grow stronger, in more ways than one. Maybe it did hurt some people, too, but hey, we all have to eat, right? Either way, it's gone now, and there's little reason to hold a grudge against the creature.

I stride triumphantly back to the small village, briefly forgetting, neither for the first time nor, I'm sure, the last, that paladin's are supposed to be humble. It isn't until I reach the very outskirts of the community that I realize that I don't have any proof of my deed, nor the ability to even properly communicate it. Thankfully, somehow, that proved to not be an issue. I guess it makes sense that if quest givers can create a waypoint to the goal, that they're also aware of when such goals are accomplished.

"Thank you, brave warrior." the armored man says, "Thanks to you, the souls of the departed can rest easily, and the village can, once more, be at peace. Take this..." he says, removing the long blade from a sheath across his back. A steel sword of clearly high quality, even from my own limited understanding of such things. It's a lot shinier than my current one, anyways, and therefore superior. In all honestly, I'm mildly disappointed that he didn't offer the armor instead, but then again, it probably wouldn't have fit anyways. "This is a valuable heirloom passed down throughout my family for generations. My fighting days are over, and my best days behind me, and it only seems right for it to be passed on to a true hero."

If I could talk, I would be very tempted to argue that I can't possibly take anything so precious, but then I realize that as soon as he removed it from his sheath and held it aloft, another seemingly identical sword had reappeared upon his back. Huh, maybe he has a really big family, and therefore a lot of heirlooms? I can't really afford to turn down a weapon which may aid me in my quest, either. There are far, far greater dangers out there than the trinity serpent, and I'll require all the help that I can get in order to overcome them.

I bark excitedly, withdraw my beginners sword and place it in my inventory pouch, and take the longer, shinier blade and slide it into the sheath. I hadn't even considered that it might not fit, but thankfully it's not an issue.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Weapon equipped! Champion's Longsword!

The armored man blinks as he looks down to me, seemingly noticing that he is speaking to a canine for the first time. This isn't so unexpected. Quest givers tend to be especially focused on their tasks and, as I mentioned before, talk at whoever is around to listen rather than to them. With the quest complete, their attention is freed up to notice other things.

"Wait... were you the one who defeated the dreaded TrinitySerpent?" he asks, incredulously. I bark excitedly in response. I still have no proof, but he seems to know that I'm telling the truth. No surprise. I have a very honest face, after all. He can only shake his head and chuckle in response, as he gives me my real reward: a well earned head pat and a "Good boy!"

Okay, technically, I would have preferred that he notice that I'm a girl, but considering that just a few moments before he hadn't even seemed to recognize that I was a dog, it's hard to be too critical of such things. As a proper, modest canine, I also make a point to keep my tail lowered whenever possible, so maybe it's less obvious to humans.

I sit down and look back across the small village. It's only a few family homesteads, making a simple living, but it's still home, and the best part? There's not a single exclamation point in sight. Sure, those strange glowing symbols floating in mid air might have been sort of pretty, and they did add a little visual flair to the otherwise plain buildings and citizens, but I can't say that I miss them too much. I really feel like I've made a difference, and in truth? That's more satisfying that the most delicious meat or the most comfortable nap.

Along with joy, however, there was also no small amount of sadness. This place was my home for as long as I can remember, and I feel no small sense to attachment to the many skilled petters who live here. The urge to remain isn't a trivial one, to act as a sort of guardian of this place, and to continue to help those in need as such needs arise. To keep my home warm and lived in until my owner inevitably returns.

But I know that I can't. As amazing as the humans here might be, they aren't my owner, and could never hope to replace him. I would also like to believe that he, wherever he is, needs me much more than the local townspeople do, and I can't fail him. Instead I cast one last somewhat sad glance back to my old house, the shattered door still dangling from a single hinge, and briefly considering a quick nap before I continue my journey.

I can't rest yet, though. I still have a mission to accomplish, one which has barely even begun. I spent a little too much time here, and I might have to be a little more picky with helping people in the future. Well, I'll worry about that when it happens. There is indeed some sadness in leaving this place, but it's not all bad. This little town is just one place among who knows how many, each one of which has the potential to offer just as much joy as this place had. Maybe even more!

For now, I begin to follow the still a faint yet incredibly familiar scent leading out of the village and towards my ultimate goal: My missing owner. I can't say how far away he is, exactly, but there is one thing I can say for sure: Now that I've begun walking, he's a few fewer steps away than he was just moments before. That might not sound like a whole lot, but it's a universe of difference compared to standing still.

Next time on 'An Adventurer's Best Friend':

"Really? I'm fighting rats and wolves? Are you sure that I'm out of the tutorial area? Oh well, at least it gives me someone to talk to!"

The O.P.S.M. Arc: The title will make sense eventually, trust me.