Day 54, 11:15 AM

“Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.”

— Aristotle

Manuella enters Eaglegord, and the crowd cheers their throats ragged. Watching the peaceful scene, I can’t help feeling proud of myself. I resolved everything with a bare minimum of violence.

Establishing peace should have been easy after deposing the despised lord, but the crowd wasn’t satisfied. They wanted to lynch Gohen’s personal guard mercenaries. The mercs naturally refused to put down their arms and even drew them in response. In the end, I challenged their captain to a duel, him armed with a sword against me unarmed.

After I mopped the city square with him before a live audience, he and his men caved and agreed to my demands as long as I personally guaranteed their safety.

As an added bonus, the public disturbance I caused was big enough to meet Anarchist’s level up condition. My choices were Resilient and Precise, and I chose the latter, obviously.

To be honest, being resilient sounds great right now. But the skill wasn’t a useful passive, instead granting a minor increase in defensive stats; physique, willpower, and composure. Meanwhile, Precise granted the same plus two to agility, intellect, and charisma. The skills came with the usual, ‘Your choice affects your personality,’ clause, but I have no idea what that’s gonna be like.

Right now I’m blunt, heavy handed, direct, insightful, and precise. It sounds a bit odd, but I guess you can have a personality leaning towards all of those without seeming bipolar.

Those five traits seem to be it for a long while. My next level up condition seems impossible, sparing me of yet another adjective influencing my personality and actions.

[Anarchist Level 5

To level up, publicly help a person wrongfully penalized by the authorities, heedless of the consequences.]

The first part is easy. I can do that a dozen times a day as a rebel leader. But based on my experience with BSD, the ‘heedless of the consequences’ part will be a tough clause to fulfill. It’s almost certain I will have to perform the deed when I can’t redo my action, but that’s only one part of BSD’s technicality I’m aware of.

I could just try my best to always help people heedless of the consequences. It’ll hit eventually. But would I place strangers before Manny? And do I even want to level up anymore? Skills seem to take over whenever it suits them. When I sparred with the guard captain, my hands moved on their own to disarm and immobilize the man. I’m not complaining, but I would prefer a flashing sign or trajectory lines explaining how to perform the move, rather than having my limbs declare independence.

Let it go. Just enjoy the moment.

And there is a lot to enjoy. With the castle captured, we have breathing room. At least two months, according to Manny. During that time, I will train as much as I can. Maybe I can even figure out how skills work and learn from the autopilot?

I just told myself to enjoy the moment and I failed. Right now, Manny is important.

This is her moment, and she gracefully waves to the crowd while walking towards the citadel. Her smile and happiness are genuine. She probably can’t believe this is really happening. She looks up towards the wall and our eyes meet. A smile blooms, cheerful, innocent, and grateful. I smile back, hoping we’re in for two wonderful months. I don’t believe it for a second. We have taken over a city, there must be a ton of paperwork and details big and small to handle. But for now, we can be happy.

Hours pass, and finally, the evening arrives.

“God, kill me.” I stumble into the master bedroom, my eyes closing on their own, my brain pummeling against my skull, trying to squeeze its way out through my ears.

Manny is already in the bed, reading another ledger. She puts the damnable book down and looks at me, her weary eyes still radiant.

“You helped me out tremendously by going through the books and searching for the missing money. Thank you. You are a genius.”

I sigh. She’s buttering me up. To be fair, I have agreed to this, and she has every right to rope me into her accounting problems. My prodigious intellect means I spot irregularities with relative ease, but then I have to spend a lot of time digging to find where the problem stems from.

It’s exhausting work, manually cross-referencing ledgers cooked to throw off the king’s taxmen from the money’s track, but it was possible. The worst was deducing which of Gohen’s affiliate stores acted as his piggy bank, since he couldn’t keep the money in his direct possession.

“Are you happy?” I ask, and she nods without hesitation.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“This is the start of what I wanted. I am happy, excited, and tired.” She gives me a sly look. “But not that tired.”

Manny pushes herself up from the pillows until she sits straight. The fluffy woolen blanket tumbles off her, revealing a wonderful sight, one which makes my heart pump a bit faster, and infuses me with a smidgeon of energy.

“Emerald is your color. It makes you look like a fairy.” I gulp. The thin nightdress conceals nothing, yet Manny makes it look decent and regal. Once her hair grows back, the picture will be complete.

“Thank you. It has been our family’s color for generations.” She beams me another smile and moves her shoulder, letting her nightdress’s shoestring strap slide down. “We worked hard today, and now we should enjoy our evening.”

It’s ‘Work hard, play hard’, but I’m not about to argue semantics.

“It’s ‘Work hard, play hard’,” Blunt says, and I cringe as Manny stares at me with a light frown, mulling over my words.

***

I wake up before the sun rises. I kiss Manny awake, and she pushes me away.

“Leave me alone you beast,” she mumbles. “What kind of monster denies his woman her much-deserved rest, then wakes her up while the bats are still flapping about.”

There’s no way she can hear bats flying if I can’t hear them. Could be an idiom like ‘dead of night’ or something?

“It’s almost morning. You can see the sky getting lighter.”

“Fine, it is morning. We have a mountain of paperwork to do today.” She flicks the blanket without hesitation, but I grab it and cover myself over my head.

“Don’t wanna. I hate paperwork.” I leave it at that. There’s no need to explain it evokes unpleasant memories of my past life.

She tugs the blanky, but gives up when she notices I’m holding tight and hugs me instead. “But you are so great at it.”

“I am, and I can do it if I must. But,” I pause, “we need a general, a warrior, and a hero all in one, not a handsome devil good with numbers.”

“But you have an incredibly brilliant mind! You could be a master strategist, why waste your potential just to lead the charge in the front line?”

I want to answer her, but I can’t.

“I’m not comfortable enough about telling you why.”

She pushes me away.

“Really? You Are Not Comfortable About Sharing.”

Oh-oh. I know that tone. She’s pissed.

“Do you have any idea how much I had to bare my soul to you these past few weeks? I never know what another me could have told you. Whether you were asking to know, or you already know the answer, and you are just cracking shells into important topics.”

Breaking the ice?

“Gah,” she growls, “I… I am so angry now.”

“No, stop, don’t.” I grab for her, but she slaps my hands away.

“Do not touch me. How dare you say that to me? You said we have to say everything—”

“Stop. I just don’t want you to think I’m insane.”

“But you are insane! Utterly mad,” she almost shouts, throwing her arms up. “Sane people do not memorize everything happening around them just in case they die and go back two weeks. Sane people do not invade the enemy castle, saying, ‘I hope I get it right on the first try.’”

She pants. “You are not sane, and I am just as insane for being with you and for believing in you.”

“Fine, come here,” I try to grab her again, but she slips away. “I’ll tell you, just be still for one bloody moment.”

I grab her and kiss her forehead.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing important. It reminds me of my life before hell.”

“The one in which you were married and had three children?”

“Yes. That one.” I told her a bit about my past, to make her agree to sharing her own dark secrets. Ten days ago, we made a pact, under the condition that I also tell her about my previous life and hell. Makes sense. My history here is, well, basically her.

“All right. I respect that. Why not just tell me?”

“Because I’m ashamed.”

“Because you abandoned your wife and children to murder scribes who slightly annoyed and inconvenienced you?”

“Yes. And they drove me mad, ruining my health. I was shitting blood for— Sorry. I don’t want you to think I would abandon you in similar circumstances.”

She pats my head.

“I know,” she says, her voice comforting. “If someone makes you mad, we can go kill them together. All right?”

I… Did not expect her to say that. When I first explained my circumstances, she wanted to strangle me. She called me a moron and an idiot man-child. I deserved it, naturally. Still do.

I nod and smile. “We’ll kill them all.”

I thought her sweet line about killing people together was an intro into foreplay, but I was dead wrong. Instead of caressing me and using that god’s-gift of a body she’s baring in front of me, she turns around and starts dressing.

“So, I have to write missives to my father’s former vassal towns and villages, notifying their lords of the Eagleeye family’s return to power and asking them to pledge their allegiance once more. Some will refuse, most will sit and observe, but the loyalists in hiding should join us.”

Her voice quivers, her fear palpable.

“Are you worried about your brother?”

She freezes. There’s silence. All I hear is my heart beating and her quick breath.

“Yes,” she says, finally. “I am worried about what he will say when he sees me. I am worried about what he will stay silent about.”

She pauses.

“And most of all, I am afraid he will not show up because…” She gulps. “Because he is dead.”

I hug her. We’ve already touched the subject of Emil, her younger brother. I know things she didn’t say. She’s worried he’s dead, but if he’s not, where was he? What was he doing, and why didn’t he help her?

What kind of man was he to leave her to her fate? A cruel one, determined, a coward? Would he have justification, or would he play dumb?

She never said anything about her fears, and I didn’t ask. There was nothing to gain from knowing, but there was a world of pain in discussing that sensitive topic.

She hugs me back and goes silent. There’s nothing sexual about two naked people hugging. I remember the feeling of hugging Mary like this. When she lost her baby, when her mother died. My whole being pulsates with that feeling I don’t know the name for. When the only thing you’re made of is the pure desire to comfort a beloved being. To let them know you are there to share their pain and shoulder their burden with them.

“Thank you,” she whispers into my ear.

“If there’s anything I can do, just ask,” I say just as softly, and she squirms in my arms.

“Well, since you are insisting. I need some help with the paperwork.”

I groan, and she giggles. It’s a sad laugh, one masking her pain, and I can’t really say no to her.

I marched straight into that one.