Terry couldn’t believe it. He just could. Not. Believe. It. He’d finally, finally, gotten another rice hat, and some walking dead man had put a hole in it. For that brief moment, he felt like this new world of his was truly conspiring against him. He hadn’t had grand ambitions. He hadn’t gone looking for acclaim, dominion, or any of that other power fantasy bullshit. He’d had two modest goals. Escape the war, and get another hat. Those had felt like achievable goals. Replacing his hat had seemed like it was going to be the simpler of the two goals, yet there was the evidence of his eyes to refute it. He lowered the hat and felt something rising in him. Something pure. Something cold. Something diamond hard. The world wasn’t going to let him have even this one simple thing that brought him happiness, and he meant to take that out on someone.

He swept his glare across the marketplace like a predator seeking prey. Terry’s eyes locked on a man who still had a crossbow pressed to his shoulder. Their gazes met. The man’s eyes went huge, and he stumbled back. He tried to pull out another bolt, dropped it, and reached for another. Terry drew one of his jian and leveled it at Captain Crossbow.

“You!” he shouted.

The hat-killing hero flinched and dropped the bolt he was trying desperately to slot into place. Terry stormed toward the man. Part of him noted that the guy was wearing one of those getups the church soldier types wore, but he didn’t really care about that. Or, maybe he did. He was vaguely aware that his jian had taken on that truly disturbing red glow it had when he fought the priest what felt like seventy-five thousand years ago. He heard more twangs as other people started taking shots at him with crossbows. He cut some of the bolts out of the air with contemptuous slashes. He just let some of them bounce off his hardened body. He snatched a few out of the air and had an impromptu game of catch with other crossbow wielders. He won.

Through it all, though, he never let his eyes waver from Captain Crossbow. The man was so frightened that he wasn’t even trying to load his weapon for a second try. Terry was vaguely aware that the townspeople were running and screaming, although he wasn’t sure how much of that he could be blamed for. He hadn’t started this fight. He wasn’t the one firing lethal weapons into a crowd of innocents. His eyes narrowed when Captain Crossbow took a step back like he meant to run. Well, we can’t have that now, can we? Terry still wasn’t sure exactly how fast he was, but he was fast enough to outfight most of the monsters he’d fought. He shot forward. Before he knew it, Terry was eye-to-eye with the bastard who had ruined his new hat.

“Going someone, killer?” asked Terry in a very calm voice as he lifted the injured headwear. “Look what you did to my hat.”

Captain Crossbow blinked rapidly as confusion flittered across his face.

“Your hat?”

“Yes. My hat. My brand-new hat. You put a hole in it, and we’re going to talk about that. But it looks like I need to go deal with something first. So, you wait right here,” said Terry, fixing the man in place with a look. “You do not want to make me chase you.”

The part of Terry that was still vaguely rational had finally gotten the message through that this was some kind of assassination attempt. He wasn’t even really that surprised. He’d been expecting something like that ever since he killed that priest and those idiots in the woods. A challenge to the Church’s authority like that couldn’t go unanswered because that would be reasonable. And if there was one thing that everyone could rely on big, powerful, corrupt organizations to be, it was for them to be unreasonable. The smart thing for them to do would have been to leave him alone. If they’d left him alone, he’d have left them alone. But no. Why let the opportunity to fulfill a trope pass them by when they could just live up to it?

Plus, he was still getting peppered with crossbow bolts, and he was pretty sure he was getting shot with regular arrows as well. That was getting annoying. If that’s how things are going to be, he thought, fine. I’ll play my part. I still remember rule number two. These bastards were willing to ambush me, in public no less, and put all these people at risk while they did it. If they want to treat life that cheaply, I can do the same. He smiled at Captain Crossbow. It must not have been a very nice smile because the man shrank back from him.

“You stay here. I’ll be right back,” said Terry.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he lashed out with his jian. There was the sound of tortured metal, followed by a gurgling scream. He looked to his right. There was a sword that had been sheared in two and a man who had gotten more or less the same treatment. Both were on the ground. Terry really wanted to be indifferent to the sight, but he wasn’t that far gone yet. He didn’t exactly feel bad about it. These people were trying to kill him, but bisecting a guy was still messy and gross. He could see parts of the man that were definitely supposed to be on the inside. Even after all of those monsters he’d killed, it still wasn’t the same with people. I guess that whole sanctity of life thing is going to be harder to shake than I thought it would be. Stupid moral compass. Stop making things hard!

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Then, someone shot him in the face with an arrow. Terry discovered that getting shot in the face, even non-lethally, had a way of clarifying his priorities. After brushing away the splintered arrow pieces from his cheeks and eyes, he found the archer staring at him from a nearby rooftop. Well, I guess now is as good a time as any to find out how far and high I can jump. He took three quick steps, crouched a little, and launched himself like one of those water-pressure-driven rockets. He got good height, but his aim was a bit off. He landed on the building next to the archer. Well, shit. I guess I need to work on that. Fortunately, he wasn’t that far away. He bounded from one building to the next and cut down the archer. He cast his eye over the square and noted the locations of the church’s thugs. He looked down at the quiver of arrows on the ground. He didn’t know anything about using a bow, but he was pretty good at throwing things.

He went to grab an arrow with his free hand only to realize he was still holding the rice hat. Except, now it had a hole in it and was half-covered with blood. Screw it, he thought. He plopped the hat on his head and sheathed the sword. He tore the quiver free from the archer’s corpse and began plucking arrows free. He hurled them at the Church assholes. The first few went straight through the guys and slammed into the ground or nearby walls like small mortar rounds. Rock exploded, and shards went everywhere. He eased up a bit after that. He wasn’t trying to kill bystanders. When the Church goons started taking cover, he dropped the quiver and jumped off the roof. He was about to go track down the rest of the attack team when someone new came charging into the market.

The man was an Aryan poster boy, with piercing blue eyes, platinum blonde hair, and possibly the squarest jaw in the history of square jaws. He was also wearing an ornate breastplate and vambraces with a lot of complicated engravings on them. He saw Terry and came to a stop. He drew a longsword and sneered contempt in Terry’s direction.

“I am the holy knight Alment Kingsten. Defender of the Holy Church. My unstained honor lets me stand between all evil and—”

There were probably more words after that, but Terry stopped listening because it was very clear the new guy was a douche. While he was ignoring the new guy, he made sure to make eye contact with Captain Crossbow. It looked like the man was trying to sneak a little closer to the edge of the market, so Terry shook his head. Something the new guy was saying finally filtered through.

“How dare you ignore me? I am a holy—”

“Yeah, I didn’t care the first time you were listing your credentials. You must realize how unbelievably insecure that makes you sound. So, don’t feel compelled to repeat them. There’s no need to make me waste my time ignoring you twice.”

“You dare!”

Terry perked up. Someone had finally said it. Oh my god, it is so satisfying to piss off an enemy so much that they say that. Yeah, I’m going to have to see if I get the bad guys to say that more often. Still, Terry had to go back to ignoring the guy because the knight was blustering again. Rather than simply endure the tedium, Terry looked around. He spotted a softball-sized piece of stone that had almost certainly been dislodged by his arrow-mortars. That gave him an idea. He walked over and picked up the rock. He hefted it a few times. It felt really light in his hands. Way lighter than a rock that size had any right to feel. He hefted it a couple more times before he smiled at the knight who gave Terry a narrow-eyed glare.

“Do you think to threaten me with a mere stone? I am—”

“Batter up,” said Terry.

He wound up and sent the rock at the knight like a small meteor. Terry was a little surprised when the guy didn’t even try to dodge. In fact, the knight looked positively smug. Oh, I bet that stupid breastplate is enchanted or something. Based on the flash of light, it seemed that Terry was right. It wasn’t enough. There was an almighty clang, and the knight was flung bodily through a nearby wall. I might have overdone that a little. Oh well. Done is done. Terry walked back over to Captain Crossbow, grabbed the man by the ear, and dragged him down to where the woman who was selling the hats was hiding.

“Say you’re sorry,” commanded Terry.

“I’m sorry I ruined your hat,” sobbed the man while staring at Terry.

“Don’t apologize to me, you jackass. Apologize to her for ruining all of her hard work.”

Terry gestured at the woman, who was gaping at them both. The Church guy stumbled all over himself to apologize for ruining her work, disrupting her day, and about ten other things that Terry hadn’t told him to apologize for.

“Good,” said Terry. “Now, you’re going to buy me a new hat to replace the one you wrecked.”

“Of course!”

The guy fumbled at his waist and brought out a pouch. Terry snatched it from the other man and shook it.

“That sounds right. Now, leave before I decide to send you to be with your friends in the afterlife.”

Captain Crossbow ran away. Terry took off the hat he’d bought less than five minutes before, gave it a mournful look, and then tossed it away. He smiled at the woman and held out the pouch.

“I’d like to buy another hat please.”