Sigurd stepped off the moat gate and onto the dirt road splayed out before him. The castle was situated atop a large hill in the middle of the capital. It offered all who lived there a tactical advantage, but more than that an elevated view of the city.

The sprawling citadel spread out far in all directions, its vastness threatening to dizzy the soldier. The path ahead of him winded a bit before reaching the main road.

He stopped at the corner to the first turn, out of the way of incoming carriages, stuffed the key in his pocket, and dropped the bag of coins on the gravel.

The realization hit him like a truck: “I think I just got bribed into taking a new job! And he's such a kind, old king… or so he seemed!”

Sigurd looked up at the blue sky, contemplating what his new title meant. Uncertainty gripped his heart, and he shut his eyes.

He felt a swell of conflicting emotions roiling within him. The land and manor that now belonged to him were symbols of power and prestige, but they also carried the burden of governance and duty.

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‘...but he's not wrong, I suppose. I have a new lease on life, and it would be foolish to throw it away, toiling away in endless conflicts.’

Sigurd covered his face with both hands, shielding his eyes from the sun.

‘Can I really just give it all up, though? That stupid goddess put me on this planet for my fighting prowess, she said so herself!’

Joyce had only ever known a life of conflict, having been born a military brat. A change in vocation was akin to dying and being birthed again. And that parallel made her laugh.

‘Still… a baron, huh?' Joyce let out an empowering yell internally. ‘What am I doing? This isn't like me at all. I'm a soldier, trained to adapt to any situation. I'll become the best leader I can be, same as always!’

The trappings of nobility were like a heavy cloak, constraining and unfamiliar, yet she knew that she would have to wear it with dignity and grace.

Sigurd slapped himself lightly a few times in the face and stared out at the horizon with renewed vigor.

“I have a house and I'm basically rich. This is better than some stinking medal, I'm a damn noble now!” He held his head, striking a pompous pose. “I'm a baron... I'm Baron Sigurd Svobodna now!”

He repeated the full title a few times aloud as if to reassure himself and reinforce the change.

“To hell with it all!" He yelled, grabbing his sack of coins as he began to march down the gravel road, “If I'm to start a new life, I'll bid my old one farewell, with a bang!”

The new baron headed into the heart of the capital to enjoy his last day of freedom, impassioned by the riches slung over his shoulder.