Somewhere nowhere in particular, at no time in particular…

「I wish you luck in your next life. Off you go.」

Athea waves her hand in the general direction of the formless shape in front of her.

Fwoom.

The formless shape in front of her disappears. She lets out a fatigued sigh, and stretches out.

「I suppose I can take a look at him again,,,」

She mumbles to herself, and with a wave of her hand, a runic screen appears in front of her. As soon as she gets the full picture of what she is looking at, she squints.

「…Why?」

She asks the screen, as it displays Straf shouting commands at military men with a grin on his face. A large battle is unfolding, as hundreds of men position themselves in organized formations attempting to outdo one another.

「I look away for what amounts to five seconds, and he’s already involved in a full scale war- Why- Is his arm broken?」

She sighs as she grumbles, only to double-take when she notices Straf’s arm in a cast. She slumps in her marble throne, placing her hand on her face. She looks at the runic screen unable to look away, but not willing to watch.

A momentary spark of anger flashes in her, but it disappear as quickly as it came.

《No… He’s allowed to do what he wants as far as human affairs go. But doesn’t he know how incredibly dangerous it is to just show up on a battlefield like that, with a broken arm? Does he think he’s invincible?…》

The more she thinks, the more sullen she becomes. A slight, but apparent frown appears on her face when she recalls Straf’s words.

《Surely he knows he’ll just show up right here if he dies, right? Is he doing this because he feels there’s no penalty for dying?…》

Her gaze drifts downwards. Her brows furrow a little.

《…Or he just doesn’t care.》

She looks at the screen again, intently staring at Straf as he’s barking orders out.

《He’s been nothing but a headache for nearly the whole time he’s here… But things have calmed down recently. Is it because he’s finally finding his place here?》

Athea once again looks down, and sighs.

《Have I been unreasonable to him? It’s a lot to take in, after all… Maybe with time he’ll finally accept he has his place there too-》

She abruptly straightens out of her slump, shaking her head.

「No. He’ll find a way to do something stupid and make me mad again. I just know it.」

She squashes the screen that’s showing Straf grinning at something down the hill into nothing.

「Well… Back to work…」

She stretches out again opens another runic, partially transparent screen with a list of names, and sighs…

…

A few minutes later, the hastily gathered taskmen trickle into a loose and slovenly formation. Straf’s eyes look over each man. Shifty-eyed, masked, the very picture-perfect antonym of military discipline and grooming.

「Okay! I see you’re all here! Honestly, I was expecting some losses.」

Straf calls out towards the uneven line of men, nodding in approval.

「...Does this mean we get paid now?」

One of the taskmen asks from behind the line.

「No. You don’t get paid. Only the military hand-picks do. Your payment is a pardon.」

With a slanted mouth, Straf explains to the man once more.

「But we did the same fuckin’ work as these guys did.」

A voice from the rear protests, muffled by a black mask.

「Yeah. And the difference is, they are not criminals. You are. This formation isn’t getting disbanded any time soon, so stick around and don’t commit crimes if you want to get paid.」

Straf shrugs his broken hand, then points it towards the voice.

「So we don’t have to back to our old units?」

A little tidier-looking man up front asks.

「You don’t if you don’t want to. I’ll put someone in lead of this unit soon enough, that being said…」

Straf looks up and aside while some of the taskmen turn to each other to mumble something and chuckle quietly.

「Good, I can’t stand that fuckhead from my unit…」

Another of the taskmen comments.

「…If not for you guys, it’s likely we would have lost this one. You’re the real deal. I wish I had some cool animal masks and cloaks for you, but the budget is a bit tight right now. I knew criminals and unruly soldiers make the best special forces.」

Straf ignores the comment and continues.

「If you would have lost without us, don’t we deserve to be paid!?」

The same criminal taskman from before shouts again.

「Hey, I told you, you’re getting pardoned. Do you want to swap your pardon for drakes instead? Good luck spending them.」

Straf says, turning away from the men and heading towards the highway.

「Anyway, don’t disband! Don’t run off! Don’t enter the private sector! And don’t commit more crimes, I can only get away with a pardon once!- Well, twice.」

Straf waves his broken hand at the men from behind his back, and walks off towards the horizon, his other arm in cast and hanging in a sling.

「…Wait, what does pardon even mean?」

One of the masked men turns to the other.

「It means whatever you did to land you in the dungeon doesn’t matter now.」

The other man shrugs his shoulders as he replies.

「Wait, you mean I can stab someone if they cheat at cards again?」

「No, dumbass, it only works once.」

「Oh…」

Enlightened, the masked man nods his head slowly…

…

Straf is walking along the side of the highway, when a horse-drawn wagon just a little faster than him pulls up alongside.

「Howdy! Need a ride!?」

A shriveled old man asks with his beady, tiny squinted eyes, holding the reins in his bony hands.

「Need? No. Could use one? Sure. Walking is a fucking drag. There’s a reason why no one shows this part.」

Straf looks at the man with a bored gaze, before looking forward at the road again.

「Where are you headin’, young man?」

「The capital. I could run there, but that’d be equivalent to fast travel, and I kind of want to take things in.」

Straf shrugs his shoulders, pointing his hand down the road.

「Oh, you’re in luck, I’m headed the same direction! Hop on! I’ll drop you off three quarters of the way there!」

The old man nods his head to the empty spot beside him, and Straf lightly bends his knees. He jumps upwards with minimal effort, almost as if he was spring-loaded, and lands on the seat with a loud thud. The wagon and its cargo shake gently.

「That uh… Acrobatic of you…」

The old man’s squinted eyes widen momentarily when he witnesses Straf flawlessly land on the wagon.

「Yeah I jumped up mountains and stuff… What are you carrying there?」

Straf looks at crates in the back gently shifting and sliding around as the wheels fall into small holes in the road, or roll over a rock.

「That? It’s just salted goods, son… I used to grow things, but me wife died some time back, and my son moved to a city to be a guard… So I became a merchant from my savings. I buy salt at the sea, go village to village to buy cheap food, salt it, then sell excess salt back and sell salted goods at the cities.」

The old man looks at the crates as well, and shrugs as he looks forward at the road.

「Is that even worth the time you have left, old timer? Shouldn’t you be mooching off your kid, or playing fetch with the adventurers?」

Straf looks to the old man with bored eyes and a slanted mouth.

「Oh, it’s a living, sonny… And it’s an easy job. You just take things in on the road. The birds singing, the trees… You just need to be careful to not run into bandits.」

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

「You should have traded wheat. Maybe it would have gotten you a new wife.」

Straf leans back on the cart, and props his head up on his hand, instantly recoiling straight up.

「Ow fuck!-」

He grunts, looking at his limp wrist with an annoyed expression on his face.

「Huh?… Well anyhow… It’s an easy job, but it’s a pretty lonely one. I’m always glad to have a passenger to lend me an ear, ha ha….」

The old man chuckles weakly with a toothless grin.

「Yeah?… Alright then, give me the exposition, old man. Tell me about the local dungeons, monsters, whatever.」

Straf sighs and shrugs, then leans back on the cart again. This time only with his elbows.

「Dungeons? Monsters?… No, sonny, I won’t know anything about that… I can tell you all about growing potatoes and cucumbers though…」

The old man shakes his head, and looks back at the road.

「Great…」

Straf sighs, dropping his head backward and looking at the clouds.

「You know, I once had an argument with my wife about potatoes… I wanted to plant them now, and she said it’d be better to plant them later…」

「Yeah, that’s going to be a gripping story… Here come the landscape shots.」

Straf sighs again as the old man continues his story about the potatoes, or perhaps his argument with his late wife…

…

A few hours later, Straf is still listening to the old man talk, only answering a few yes or no questions for the peace of mind…

「…And that’s how we met. Convoluted, isn’t it? It’s like we were meant for each other… Too bad she wasn’t meant to be here for long.」

「Yeah. Tragic.」

Straf lets out an exasperated, fatigued sigh. The horses’ hooves continue noisily clopping on the stones below.

「…So you said you’re a military man, youngster?」

「No. I said I’m coming back from a battle.」

Straf sits back up straight, and sighs with a slanted mouth at the old man.

「Huh?… So you’re not a soldier coming home?」

The old man squints his beady eyes at Straf again in confusion.

「No, I’m the finance minister coming back to a circus disguised as a hotel.」

Straf shrugs his broken hand and lazily slumps back in the cart again.

「The what what?… So you didn’t fight?」

The old man tilts his head in deeper confusion.

「I did, kind of.」

「Ah. So you’re a humble warrior, aintcha, youngster? Ha ha… What did you do, then? I see you got injured in battle… You were in the thick of it, huh?」

The old man looks at Straf’s slinged arm and chuckles weakly again.

「No, not really. I stayed away from the fighting and burned down a lot of food.」

Straf shrugs, sighing again.

「Wh-? What? So you’re a criminal, or a deserter or something, sonny?…」

The old man blinks, tilting his head again.

「Oh, no, I’m a war hero.」

Straf nonchalantly announces, smirking a little.

「…Huh?」

The old man stares in disbelief at Straf, before turning his head forward. A large plume of smoke begins to rise from beyond then hill just ahead of them.

「Oh dear… There’s a village there. Hope they get that fire under control…」

Clang! Cling! Clank!

Indistinct noises of battle and shouting comes from the direction of the smoke, and concern sets on the old man’s wrinkled and droopy face.

「Oh dear… That’s not good…」

He comments, and Straf glances at him. The wagon makes it over the crest of the hill, allowing Straf to get a clear view of the village. The largest building in the center is entirely consumed by flames, and people are haphazardly running around.

Men armed and armored in non-uniform fashion are fighting the local population armored with nothing better than a leather jerkin here and there, and armed with a scythes hastily hammered into a polearm or a rusty shortsword in the hands of a better-off peasant.

「I… Er… We should turn back, that’s pretty bold of the bandits-」

The old man halts the wagon and looks over his shoulder the way he came.

「Finally.」

Straf utters out, and hops off the cart.

「Where are you going!? Let it go, youngster! You can’t right every wrong!」

The old man shouts at Straf’s back as he’s heading towards the village.

「Who said anything about righting wrongs?」

With his brows furrowed, Straf looks over his shoulder at the old man. He whips the horses with the reins, and turns the cart around, disappearing behind the hill. Straf casually walks into the unfolding battle.

The peasants initially look at him in panic, but seeing as he’s visibly injured, they return to fighting the attackers. Straf heads directly for the most important, richest-looking one.

「Too late for mercy, yokel! You shoulda have bent the knee!」

The armed men step in his way, blocking his path to their apparent leader.

「Hey, watch your fucking mouth, I’m not a cliche-blind villager.」

Straf replies angrily, causing the men in front of him to get a little unnerved. They quickly recover and look at each other.

「What the fuck do you mean you’re not a villager!? You’re not from around here!? What are you doing here, then!?」

One of the men shouts a question directed at Straf.

「I came here to ask you that back. Why are you burning this place down?」

Straf asks nonchalantly, looking directly at the man staring at him in silence from behind the guards.

「…Boss, what do we do with this guy? Do we kill ‘im?」

「Yeah, if he’s not from around here…」

The guards turn to the serious looking man behind them. A grin appears on his face, and he walks towards Straf past them.

「No… Leave him be. This is perfect, in fact. He’s going to spread the word what will happen if you don’t do as I say…」

The man looks over his shoulder at his guards, then turns his eyes towards Straf, sizing him up. He grins again, looking at his broken arm.

「We’re making an example out of this village. They refused to contribute a tribute, and now they’ll pay the price. The men will be slaughtered, and the women will serve us… I suppose their kids can do as slaves. I’d prefer not to kill the kids…」

He turns his head towards the battle, the villagers are pushed back into a narrower and narrower circle. The man looks back at Straf, confidently keeping his thumbs hooked into his sheath’s belt.

「Now, you’re going to be a good boy and spread the word. Tell everyone this is what happens if you disobey the Stem of Thorns.」

The grim man orders Straf with a gruff, threatening voice. He sputters, almost breaking out into laughter, but manages to recover his unimpressed face.

「Hey, what’s so fucking funny, asshole? If you don’t like the idea of being left alive, we can always get some kid to do it instead-」

The bandit leader asks angrily, but Straf interrupts him with a grin on his face.

「The Stem of Thorns huh… Where’d that come from?」

Straf asks, almost putting his broken hand in his pocket, but suddenly stopping himself just in time.

「Huh? Ah, you never heard of us? Well, get ready to be hearin’ about us a lot now… We’re a band of like-minded men. The more you squeeze us, the more it’ll hurt. Kind of like a rose stem. Pretty clever name, huh? I came up-」

The man explains the background behind his group’s name, only to be interrupted by Straf’s chuckling again. The bandit leader clicks his tongue in annoyance as Straf bends forward from laughter.

「What!? You think the name is fucking funny, huh!?-」

He shouts a question in anger at Straf, but Straf replies by waving his broken hand at him, shaking his head and still trying to get his laughter under control. Eventually, Straf calms down and lets out a large sigh.

「Ahhh… No, no… The name is alright. As far as randomly generated shit goes, it’s not bad. It’s just…」

Straf explains, chuckling a little again before letting out another sigh.

「…Man, how fucking thick do you think your plot armor is? With this kind of setup, you’re basically daring me to kill you.」

Straf shrugs with his hand, with a massively amused grin on his face.

「…What the fuck was that!?」 「Now you fuckin’ done it!」

The guards shout in outrage at Straf, and their leader’s expression grows sour.

「Oh look at me, I’m the bad guy! I kill peasants and take slaves! You’re obviously no match for me!」

Straf mocks the bandit leader by attempting to mirror his pose, and insinuating a quote from him, while the man grinds his teeth in silence.

「Come oooooon. If you’d be actually immortal, I’d open up the console and kill you on the spot to put you in your place. But guess what, buddy? You’re not-」

Straf continues mocking the man. He abruptly turns around and walks past his guards.

「I have no use for a rambling lunatic. Bring me his head. We’ll use a kid instead.」

He pauses for only a second to order his men, and leaves to the village perimeter. The guards nod their heads, and start anxiously walking towards Straf. While their leader was angered, his subordinates are seemingly on edge about Straf, for one reason or another.

Straf stretches his broken hand out to the side with a grin, then pauses. His expression returns to neutral, and he looks at his hand.

「…Right. I forgot.」

His arm drops, and he looks intently at the bandits walking towards him in a tight half-circle…