Like lost souls, dozens of villagers marched with heavy gaits to the horns bellowing at the village center.

Donavan dragged behind the excited bunny girl, weaving impatiently through the crowd. He took note of the population. Jules stood out like a sore thumb due to her bubble-gum hair, but she was far from the only non-human around.

Elves, Dwarves, orcs, and other beast-people all had a place amongst the villages' denizens. The only thing they seemed to have in common was the sturdy linens and furs of mountain-dwelling folk and the unmistakable bearing of physical laborers.

A harrowing silence bore over the entire progression. Which made sense to Donavan. These people's homes had just been attacked. He'd only caught the tail end of it, but it certainly hadn't been a victimless event.

"C'mon, C'mon!" Jules urged, tugging him along, "If we get a good spot we'll be able to pick him out of the crowd!"

Donavan frowned behind the over-excited girl. She seemed utterly oblivious to the misery and loss surrounding her. While the faces of the crowd wore expressions of distress and despair. She was acting like they were on the way to see her favorite celebrity perform.

Donavan planted his feet, abruptly causing Jules to yank herself against his immovable form.

"Why'd you stop?" She said, glancing back at him. Impatience brushed across her features. "We're gonna be stuck at the back."

"Look around you, Jules," Donavan said softly. "What do you see."

Jules glanced around, first a look of confusion that melted into giddy excitement.

"Is it him? Did you see him somewhere!?" Frantically, she started swiveling her head from side to side.

Her gaze rolled over the crowd and their misery with no more concern than the mountain breeze had for the meadow grass.

This... This was the problem.

Donovan had mostly been focused on the main character, and what he needed to do to guide him. But Jules was also a major character. A love interest, supposedly, if you could call blind obsession love. An obsession that was blinding this woman to the world around her.

She would need correction too. but how?

The weight of Donavan's task began to reveal itself in its entirety. It was one thing to talk about changing a fictional character's motivations, story arcs, and progression. They were just words on paper, as mutable as a sentence.

It was another thing entirely to look what seemed to be a fully living, breathing person in the eye, and ask yourself; How do I mold a person's identity? How do I remake a soul?

How do I remake a world?

In that moment Donavan began to feel very small.

What did it matter how hard he could punch or how high he could jump. Erwin had acted like he'd given him all the tools he needed by virtue of overwhelming power.

Power wasn't what he needed, it was understanding.

And Donavan understood nothing.

Erwin didn't need an editor, he needed a team of psychiatrists, or maybe some kind of prophet. How in the hell was he supposed to manipulate and guide the fates of this entire world and its cast of characters when he couldn't even begin to conceive of a way to change this one obnoxiously pink-haired bunny girl.

This whole thing was a fool's task. Ridiculous from its very premise.

Donavan needed out.

Which means he needed to die.

Erwin said the main character had to strike him down in some big climactic battle. Sure, maybe this body was unkillable by normal means, but it sounded like Erwin had no way to directly interfere with events once they'd started moving. This meant that if Donavan could get the Main character to kill him early, then there would be no need for all this other nonsense.

But he didn't have enough information. Were there other conditions that needed to be met? It seemed right now the MC was going around killing goblins with a shovel. With how powerful his body was, Donavan doubted a plucky farm boy with a shovel would be enough to do him in.

No, from what he remembered, it was the very obvious magical sword that took the MC from wide-eyed wannabe to unstoppable demi-god.

A mythic sword with the power to strike down the great evil who is unstoppable otherwise?

Yep, that was one of the classics as far as tropes went. It had to be what Erwin meant when he said no one else but the main character was going to be able to take him out.

He'd find the MC, get him his magic sword, and then throw himself upon it. Forget all the other nonsense. He wasn't going to be another doll in Erwin's game of make-be-lieve.

Perhaps if it had been Robert Greymire's Star-Crown series he'd gotten sent to, he'd let himself get lost in it. He'd get to know the characters and their struggles. That was art. That was magic. This place was like being locked in a room with someone gushing about their fan-fiction.

Donavan began to move his feet when he realized Jules had given up trying to tug him along. She was staring blankly off into the distance. Her excitement was gone, her expression unreadable.

"Jules?" Donavan tried.

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Her ear twitched, but she didn't turn to face him.

Donavan followed her gaze. Across the square, a small boy, maybe only six years old, with the ears of a scruffy alley dog sat crying. Donavan couldn't hear him from here, but Jules's long pink ears were pointed in his direction.

"Do you know him?" Donavan asked.

Jules didn't answer immediately.

"That's the Bakers kid." She said quietly. "I've been helping out his family for some money on the side. I went with his parents to get grain from the mill earlier. That's when the goblins attacked, and when I was saved."

Donavan's gaze darkened.

"And his parents?"

"Too Late..." She said, solemnly. "They... they bought me time until he showed up."

"Does he know?"

Jules shook her head from side to side.

"You should tell him."

The bunny girl rounded on him.

"No, no I can't! What would I say?"

"Whatever needs to be said."

"Maybe once we find my savior, he can tell him, he was there, he'd be better at it than me. I-"

"Jules." Donavan's said cutting her off. "That kid is going to be looking for his parents all day. The village is in disarray, Who knows how long it will take to tally the dead, or when someone will get to him."

Donavan gazed into the girl's big bright blue eyes. He could see her searching for an excuse to not go. Tears began to well up at the corners.

"But... but I... I was hiding, his parents held them off so I could hide. They practically died because of me. Because I was scared. I can't tell him that." The tears began to stream in earnest. "I can't tell him that his parents died because I was too scared to help."

Donavan considered the young woman for a moment. Perhaps he'd judged her too quickly. Everyone deals with trauma in their own ways. Perhaps her obsession with the hero was just a coping response to tragedy.

Tragedy was something Donavan knew all too well. As well as the things people do to try and forget it.

"Are you going to stay scared?" Donavan said breaking the silence.

Jules looked up at him, brows knit and eyes blurry with tears.

"You can't change what happened." He continued. "But if you don't do something now, you will stay scared. Is that what you want?"

Jules shook her head, sending droplets streaking from her face.

"Then go do something brave."

Jules stared at him a moment longer and turned and made her way across the square.

Donavan didn't have super bunny ears to hear what was said, but he watched intently. She went over and kneeled down to be at eye level with the boy and took both of his hands into hers. She spoke. The boy Listened. The boy wailed, then collapsed against Jule's chest sobbing deeply. Jules sobbed with him.

The boy had a hard path ahead of him, Donavan knew. To be left all alone in the world at such a young age. But he could make it. One could do alright for themselves without a family.

After all, Donavan had.

A horn blared drawing the attention of all the people in the square. A group of figures climbed the stairs up a raised wooden platform. He recognized Caspiera amongst their number. But standing most prominently was a short and stout dark-skinned Dwarven woman wearing ornate armor and a rich purple sash emblazoned with a crest depicting a pickaxe and a shovel behind a treasure chest.

"Your attention please!" The woman bellowed. Her voice was strong and staunch enough to carry across the square. "I know many of you have questions as to the Oaktri trading company's response to today's attack, But first know that our valiant captain Caspiera and her guard were able to successfully ward off the goblins and prevent further damage to the town and company property"

The woman paused as if she were expecting people to cheer. They didn't.

"I am also happy to announce that the damages were minimal enough to not affect our production schedule too heavily, and we will be able to resume operation shortly."

This announcement was met with a response, but not a positive one. Amongst the crowd yells and jeers began as people hurled insults and questions at the stage. The dwarven woman seemed utterly unbothered. though out of the corner of his eye, Donavan thought he saw Caspiera shoot a hostile glance at the Dwarven woman.

"Why did goblins attack in the first place!" one person called out. "Goblins never attack armed settlements!"

The dwarven woman nodded her head amicably.

"At present, we are unsure of the motive behind the attack. Trust that we are all confused as to why this happened."

"Why didn't the guards stop this sooner!" Another voice called out.

"Perhaps I shall let Caspiera answer that." The Dwarven woman said, taking a step back, and gesturing for caspiera to take center stage. Caspiera blinked in surprise, but the Dwarven woman waved her forward.

Caspiera stepped forward and cleared her throat. her stance awkward, she'd obviously been put on the spot.

"The Garrison was not prepared for an attack on this scale, nor did we have any reason to be. We were caught flat-footed. I-"

"Where is my husband!." A woman called out.

"And my son!"

"And my-"

...

soon the square was filled with people yelling out names of missing loved ones. Caspiera tried to speak over them, but her voice was lost in the overpowering crowd. it was only when the Dwarven woman stepped forward and raised her hand did the crowd quiet.

Caspiera's gaze was cast down at her feet, Her jaw clenched. It was only when the crowd was completely silenced did she speak again.

"The goblins took prisoners." She said finally. "We don't know why or where they took them."

Caspiera lifted her chin scanning the crowd. for a moment her gaze lingered on Donavan, but then continued.

"But I swear to you all I will do everything in my power to bring them back!"

The crowd was silent. Caspiera stood taller, her back straightened, and conviction filled her eyes.

"I swear to you that I will make up for my mistake, even if I have to give my life for it."

For a moment the crowd murmured amongst themselves. Donavan heard people around him go from despair-filled whispers to hopeful affirmations. It seemed despite the day's events, Caspiera had a good relationship with the people of Priapine Village, and they believed her.

"And how do you plan to do that?" a voice echoed out across the square. It was the Dwarven woman stepping forward to take a place next to Caspiera.

"What do you mean Desna?" Caspiera turned to face the woman. "I'll take a squad of soldiers and we will follow the goblin's path."

"And leave the village and the company's workers defenseless? I think not. We can't risk further delays, we have quotas to meet."

Caspiera blanched. "But they took our people, if there's a chance we can get them back we have to try."

The crowd started to rumble again, and people called out yelling at Desna, but she merely raised her hand.

"Do you all really want to send our guards traipsing out across the Uthgarde mountains leaving us with no defenses?"

The crowd's protests fell to mutters.

"As I already said," Desna continued. "The damages were fortunately not critical. We have the means to recover, but that will not be the case if we leave ourselves open to further attack by sending off half our security. It is tragic what has transpired, but we should not let it stop us from doing what we came here to do. If any of you have a suggestion on how to get our valued workers back without further damaging our operation, I am happy to listen to it."

Desna folded her arms behind her back and peered out across the square as if patiently waiting for suggestions.

"Very well then. If that is all then we will resume operations tomorrow-."

"Seekers!" A familiar sweet voice called out above the crowd. Donavan turned to see it was Jules. She now stood tall despite red eyes from crying. By her side, she still held the hand of the little boy. "We can hire seekers to do it!"

Seekers, he'd heard that term before. Caspiera had mentioned it. She had said the frontier was a seeker's wet dream.

Desna smiled at the crowd but it didn't reach her eyes. "Oh darling, do you know how much a seeker party costs? It would put us drastically over budget. besides, who knows how long it would take for them to accept the job and make it up here. it could be weeks, and the trail would be cold, especially if we're hit with a storm."

Jules's ears drooped. Desna turned to address the crowd at large.

"Truly I am sorry everyone, but we just don't have the resources to spare. We are an agricultural operation. We just don't have the means to go to war with a bunch of goblins. So unless you want to go out there yourselves I'm afraid we will just have to cut our losses."

Donavan felt the crowd's hopes die. Desna stood atop the stage a little longer, seemingly waiting to see if she'd have to shoot down any other suggestions. When no one offered any, she turned to gesture everyone off the platform.

"I'll go!" a new voice called out. Everyone turned to the source of the voice.

across the square, standing apart from the rest of the villagers. Was a tall young man, with long wavy brown hair falling around his boyishly handsome face. Gripped in his right hand, a bloody shovel.