I have no idea why I ended up here.

Just a while ago, I was sowing seeds on my farm, quite a few miles from the capital. It was the right season, you see; the Sun was energetic, animals and bees danced around happily, all that dreamy stuff. I had limited supplies to work with, as the country was under a crippling economic crisis, as the last harvest season turned out to be absolutely terrible. But, of course, only the farmers and the middle class suffered, while the damned nobles escaped unscathed, as always. I wonder how they still remain round and plump, while the common folk die of hunger.

Which is why my current predicament is all the more infuriating, as I am being escorted by two knights wearing richly embroidered green garbs, with their curved swords buckled tightly to their waists, swinging and clanging against their metal armor.

Goddamnit, I mutter, what do these mongrels of the monarch have to do with me?

One of those bastards eyes me warily. "What was that punk?", the bearded knight asked imposingly, cranking his hand back for a slap across my face. I swear to Holy Rethia, if this bastard's fingertips ever so brush my moustache, I am going take my sickle and-

"Now, now, Mark," the clean-shaved knight tries to diffuse the situation, "it is possible that Wilhelm here is a little confused about his situation, and anger, while being a sin, is not completely avoidable, now, is it?" He tries to look at me sympathetically.

Fuck off, dude, you creep me out.

"But what did I tell you about these country bumpkins? These rats should never be allowed to look at our capital, much less in. Do not encourage this scoundrel's behavior, Giuseppe", Mark tells him.

The fuck did he say?

I can feel my skin warm uncomfortably, and I guess this is anger—a sin. I can no longer allow them to trample on my pride, but my actions should not corroborate their ideas about countrymen. We may be unruly, but we are not rats.

Giuseppe notices my face twitching and tries to diffuse the situation again. I really should work on concealing my emotions.

"Uh, how about we talk about what Lord Myrtu told us, eh? She really should have some reason to bring you all the way from Lyspia."

Yeah, Lord this, Lord that. These hunting dogs of the Crown never leave an opportunity to lick her boots, as their sole reason is to ascend the military ranks. The whole system is repugnant. However, I still need to know what Ressa Myrtu suffered from this time for a countryman to alleviate. Would it be another trip to the middle of Lake Ladia to search for a long-lost family heirloom? Last time it was a fucking spoon, and I don't expect much this time.

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"Yes," I nod, "but I admit, I am a little bit surprised; you go by Giuseppe now? What a lanky ass name is that?" I chide him.

He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. Mark eyes him suspiciously and asks, "What is he saying?"

"I'd rather have this conversation sometime later, Mark." He glares at me, and I can't help but chuckle.

"Okay, but can I have the honor of getting some answers from you, buddy?" a grin escapes me unknowingly.

He averts my gaze.

"Well, Wilhelm, you would be required to leave the country for a little while for this job; it is probably a recon mission. Her Lordship would further elaborate on the details. It is duly advised that you maintain the decorum of the-"

Mark clicks his tongue and grins.

"I don't know about you, but I don't expect this scoundrel to get through the briefing. It runs in their blood-"

You are not completing that sentence.

I am a person that's easily annoyed, and I have what people call an anger management issue. I do not wish to obey people; that's partly why I quit my previous job. Nope, that's probably all of the reason. My dad once said that this particular sin of mine would be my downfall. I could care less.

I throw my hands first and worry later.

I punch Mark on the nose, fair and square. He wails. How satisfying it was, the feeling of his cartilage crunching against my knuckles. Is this bloodthirst?

I immediately jump on the bastard as Giuseppe processes what's happening before him. This is unnatural for these assholes, who use magic and enchanted weapons to fight. They are weak to pure, raw brawling. As they say, it is too "unrefined", but as I say, they are a bunch of pussies.

"Stop, Wilhelm, you do not want this!" Giuseppe yells as I pummel Mark to the ground. "I am afraid I will have to restrain you." I am just letting my 3 years of hibernated anger out fairly. What's his problem?

Huh? What is this chill near my neck?

Oops, I think I fucked up.

Someone's carrying me. I can feel my hands dangling toward the abyss. I'm going to fall down anytime.

I am slowly descending toward the abyss. I want to embrace it. Weird.

Visions dance around. It is warm. What's that sound? People chattering? It is still pitch dark. I feel a soft hand on my cheek.

Sofia?

Well, I'll be damned if this was all a dream and my wife did not actually leave me.

It was my fault at the end of the day. I am a heartless bastard. Did she actually return? Am I finally going to have a turnaround?

My vision becomes less blurry. My eyes search for Sofia. Where is she? Am I back home again?

Fuck me. It is Giuseppe.

"Wilhelm, I hope for your sake that you stop getting so mad at things," he sighs. "You really haven't changed, have you?"

He knows nothing—absolutely nothing about me.

"Giuseppe, I hope Mark couldn't be identified even by his mother, " I smirk. "But of course, your damned healers will take care of him, won't they?"

Giuseppe lets out another sigh. His eyes are sad. What for?

"Let's get this over with."

I suddenly come to sense my surroundings. It is the instinct kicking in, like that of a mountain animal. I see the usual suspects - the ministers. Those fat fucking leeches.

And I see her, the Lordship herself.

"Well, well," Ressa says, "welcome back, Wild Dog Wilhelm."

I hope this is the last time I have entered this court.