After one week of walking, we make it to a small village with horse merchants present. I buy a mid-price horse thinking it would be the safest option. The only inns available in these parts are the cheap ones.

I stay away from the crowded abandoned inns and stay in a purchased room. Due to the poor availability, Olivia and I have to share a room. I insist she takes the bed, I will get poor sleep regardless.

The night sky lit up by moons and stars leek through the window. The walls have cracks that allow slivers of light through. The village is small enough to lack the nauseating stench of a big city. In fact, the cool night air smells pleasant.

I drink water from the pitcher I crafted out of earth magic. I have to warm it up, the discomfort ever present in my throat makes me choke up cold water.

Olivia walks over to the bed normally, she just changed into the only pair of nightwear she possesses. It is torn in many places and made of poor material, but it does the job. My clothes aren’t much better, not due to poverty, but lack of effort.

She sits on the bed, just for a moment I can see the soles of her feet. She is covered in blisters the size of my hand’s palm. I reach down and grab her feet, examining them I realize it must have been horrendously painful to walk. I can't imagine how long she must have been letting these build up.

“Why are you hiding this?” I ask panicked.

“...I don’t wish to cause more trouble for you,” she responds meekly.

I cast healing magic to the best of my abilities. I am far from competent with such spells, but this is something that I can handle. In a few moments, the blisters are gone. She appears surprised by this.

“You can use healing magic?” she inquires.

Ah, she must have imagined I would carry her around, or hire an expensive healer if I found out about her condition.

“I can, so please don’t ever hide something like this again. Even indirectly, I do not wish to hurt anyone… not anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

The atmosphere grew awkward after this. As socially competent as she is, she often loses her words when speaking with me. The way she is with me is how I am with all other people, I can’t do anything to handle these awkward moments.

…

As we move further towards Assyricum, the roads grow more congested. The piles of bodies on the side of the road grow denser, and crying children louder. These roads are hell, and the people who walk them are undeserving of punishment.

Olivia sits on the horse alone, the luggage is on its side, and I guide with its reins. Often times I catch thin and malnourished people staring at it hungrily, some even look that way at fellow men.

Days of this pass one after another, and I never get used to the sights.

Once we crossed the mark of four weeks on the road, appearing like the gates of heaven, the Assyricum border enters my sights. Lands where merchants can move freely and crops grow without being burnt before my very eyes.

Surely, the hungry and desperate people are flooding into these lands, and enjoying the peace, freedom, and nourishment they so desperately crave.

They are not. The shallow river that divides the two nations lies untouched by the thirsty, and the wall of people in front of the bridge does not move.

Soldiers take up defensive formations on the bridge and every hundred meters on the river. Every once in a while, they beckon a wealthy-looking person onto the bridge for inspection by a civilian, but those who are obviously poor get no attention.

A woman tries to run across the bridge and past the guards. She is struck down by an arrow in mere moments and dies instantly. Her body twitches and a pool of red forms beneath her. The sight sends shivers down the spine of all who witness this. The Assyricans have no intention to take prisoners.

Some collapse in despair, others turn back, and the rest… they build up every last bit of energy inside of them.

A calm emerges, a quiet tense calm. These people were trapped in a corner. Death from famine or soldiers if they turned back, and death if they stayed put. But even in their condition, some still had hope left. When the moments of calm ended, the ground shook, and thousands let out desperate cries while running towards the bridge and water. They knew many would die, but the only choice was to make the gamble.

The guards lack the ability to stop everyone, but that doesn’t mean they don’t fight back. Indiscriminately, they swing their weapons and cast spells. Bodies drop like hail, and puddles of red form a river.

The weak, slow, infirm, and young get trampled alike. Those who turn back for their loved ones get trampled. Those who trip get trampled.

I stand frozen, unsure of what I should do. While I hesitate, Olivia notices something in this scenery and grabs me, leading me forward.

I take my luggage and let go of the horse, the two of us run through a gap she found in the chaos. She is too slow, so I pick her up and carry her through the massacre.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

A guard sees me and fires an arrow towards me. Lacking focus, I allow it to hit me in the shoulder, but it lacks power, and I keep running.

Desperately, I keep my head forward. I know what I will see if I look back and I wish to stay oblivious to the carnage. However, instinct gets the better of me.

Bodies pile on bodies. Men, women, and children, there was no discrimination, all within Blade's reach were killed. Some made it through, but they were quickly pursued. Perhaps one-half of all those who rushed across the border were killed.

To think, an arbitrary line on a map is worth such bloodshed. To think, humans could justify doing this to one another. To think, this is what the law dictates, yet people call it just.

I can’t stay frozen anymore, soldiers are catching up to me.

I vomit in my mouth a bit.

I shouldn’t have looked back.

A few kilometers of sprinting later, I find a place to rest. The arrow is still in my shoulder. I have to pull it out. The pain is sharp, but nothing compared to what I have felt before.

Olivia makes me take my shirt off so she can dress the wound. While she takes care of the injury, I feel her eyes wander all over my torso. She examines each of my scars with care, at this point, my body is covered in more scars than clear skin.

I dislike her seeing this, so I put my shirt on immediately after she finished. She doesn’t comment on it, but I can tell what she is thinking.

In the army, scars are looked at with envy. In the civilian world, they are looked at with pity.

We sleep beneath the tree we rested at.

…

After waking up, we decide to follow the roads once more.

There are some refugees in front of us, but most are still far behind. One can only run so far with blistered feet and an empty stomach.

After a few miles of walking, we find ourselves moving along wheatfields. These lands are fertile and food is abundant. The air is the perfect temperature. A bit hot with a cool breeze. Hell sat on the other side of the border, heaven on this side.

I, who had not let his guard down in years felt more anxious in these lands than the previous. Air that smelt like blood was my norm, and this air smelt like bread and flowers.

I look beside me and can tell Olivia feels the same.

Is this a trap?

No, it is not, but instinct and logic do not always correspond. I fear that around the next corner, behind a wall, hiding in a bush, or just behind me, there is someone trying to kill me.

I walk on edge like this for another mile until we come across our first village. There is a guard posted outside. He has the look of an upper-level soldier. One carrying knowledge, unlike the grunts behind him.

He examines us closely. His decision is instantaneous, with a signal the men behind him move into place. If it is discovered that we illegally immigrated into this country we will be arrested. After that, either deportation or slavery.

I had a plan for this, even if I disconnected myself from this world quite a bit, I still have enough knowledge to get through this situation.

I attempt to speak but… words don’t come out. If I fuck up here, then not only I but also Olivia will die…

Can I really do this? Talk my way through a situation? The same person who couldn’t talk to a girl in his old life, or talk through my problems?

Unsurprisingly, the one who stepped up in this situation was Olivia. Unlike me, she could hold her own in a conversation. Even under tremendous pressure.

“Excuse me sir, but we would like to enter the city.”

“Dressed in rags and coming from the south. It is clear that you are one of those damned Amidonians. You are under arrest for illegal immigration.”

“I may be of the Republic, but my master here is not. He is a tier-2 adventurer from the Aenes Kingdom and can prove it.”

He stopped moving after hearing this and eyed me.

“Tell me, why is the servant speaking for the master? This is fishy.”

“My master suffered a grave jaw injury battling a Grand Ape. His speech is impared and only I can understand it properly. I apologize if I have offended you.”

“Hm. Produce the documentation immediately.”

“Yes sir.”

She reached into my bag and grabbed the metal adventurer's card with my information on it. This was made recently and given to me by… I don’t want to say his name… but it has up-to-date information and is completely legit.

The sharp-looking guard examined me with distrustful eyes before returning the card and sending one of the grunts with him to fetch something.

I received a slip of paper with the words ‘right to entry’ on it. Since Olivia has declared herself to be some type of subordinate to me, she is allowed to enter the city as well.

Due to the threat of monsters, all adventurers tier-3 and above have the right to move through borders freely. This is ancient law and all nations aside from the elven kingdom respect it.

“You.” he looked at me harshly once more “Behave yourself within these walls, and if you call yourself a tier-2 adventurer, then dress like it. No man of your stature should be wearing rags. It is a disgrace.”

I nodded at him and entered the city. I don’t imagine this man feels too happy about letting a warrior into his kingdom that invaded another, but laws must be respected.

I guess I’ll need to find a tailor. Before that, I think it’s time to find an inn. It is dinner time and Olivia must be tired from all the walking.

The nearest inn was almost full of wealthy merchants and Amidonian aristocrats. We managed to get two separate rooms despite this. I never realized how full my coin purse was until I had Olivia start managing the money. I could probably live a lavish lifestyle for the rest of my life without working.

Our food arrives shortly after we take a seat in the downstairs tavern. The meal consists of meat, bread, cheese, and milk. I ate what I could, but it was definitely too much food. While I was training, I would force this down in the hope of getting enough protein to grow my muscles, but now I have no such desire.

Once I have finished the food, I decide to head to my room. Olivia joins me since she has some time before she goes to bed.

“What should we do from here?” I ask her.

“That is for you to decide.”

“Isn’t there anything you want?”

“I’m trying to figure that out,” she responds. It seems we are alike in our purposelessness. “Though there is one thing…”

“What is it?” I ask.

Her tone becomes serious. She looks down with sorrow in her eyes and tells me, “Once I have found a place to call home, I would like to make a grave for my father.”

“...I understand.”

It will likely be a while before she finds a place to call home. But if I can help her with that, then I will.

I am pathetic, weak, and awful in every way. I once hated the universe with a passion, now I hate myself. I don’t think I will ever change that, but helping out her and the other people around me might be a step forward.

At least I hope it is.