“Damnit!” Is he getting closer, or is he just patrolling? I quickly crouch in the tall grass, trying to catch my breath while keeping an eye on him.

His shiny helmet reflects the rising sun. If I were just one nutria away, I could've pushed myself harder.

Now what? Moving across the field feels too risky. If I end up fighting one or more nutrias, that knight will tear me apart. Stealth, maybe? I could try to blend in along the route.

I start tearing long stems of grass, stuffing them into my pockets, collar, sleeves—anywhere I can. Halfway through, I realize this will be a flop. It's already restricting my movement, and I'm not even moving yet. If he catches me sneaking, I won't be able to run.

He wasn't great at spotting us before, though the strong wind masked our steps. Maybe I can move cautiously now. Sneakers aren't called sneakers for nothing, right?

I quickly stow my two bloody sticks in my inventory to avoid slowing down and step out of the grass, staring directly at the crossroads and the shiny armor. The gravelly dry roads won't suppress my steps, but I'll try my best.

I was never good at sports, and to be honest, even a short run would drain my stamina pretty fast. Not far from my starting point, and I'm already sweating and breathing heavily while crouching and sneaking.

Sunshine and that armor—he must be pretty uncomfortable. I wonder where he sleeps or resides. A few dozen steps closer, and I stop to tighten my shoelaces before the run. Approaching him silently, I stare above his head until I see his health bar.

31?! It was 30 yesterday! Are my eyes playing tricks on me? I definitely remember that zero. Did he level up on his own? When? By killing Pocco or some of the nutrias? I’m confused and frightened. How many days until he evolves and can sniff us out from miles away? I suddenly feel even less freedom and more pressure to improve myself.

He starts to look around as if he's sniffing something. His right hand reaches behind his head and rests on the hilt of his claymore, stored on his back on a double hook.

"It's my time! Now or never!"

I get up quickly and start running as fast as I can, not even looking back. Not knowing what to expect, I brace for a sudden blow from behind at any moment.

Breathing heavily after a short run, I suddenly hear laughter. It sounds metallic, like it's coming from inside a can. Stopping for a brief moment, I turn around. He stands there in a relaxed position, laughing from his helmet. "Is the bastard laughing at me?!"

I feel a mix of relief and pettiness.

----------------------------------------

Arriving at the shack, I decide to be more than rude. The bastard sent us to inevitable death with his fake quest.

Bursting through the door, I start yelling at him. "We failed your stupid little favor, and I died a horrendous death! You knew this all along!"

He stares at his desk quietly, with a disappointed and guilty expression. I stop yelling, tilting my head as I analyze his behavior.

"You knew about it, or not? Where are we even? What is this place?" He remains silent. "Talk! You owe me at least that!" He stays silent.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Suddenly, I remember the coin satchel with twelve coins. As I think of my inventory, the window opens automatically before my eyes.

"Oh." The surprise escapes me. The merchant finally raises his gaze. I completely ignore him, baffled that it works without speaking out loud.

Staring at the counter, I’m terrified. Does this mean the system reads my thoughts? How much does it know about me? The one place I thought I was safe—in my own head—might not be.

"Did you lose your words?" His old, creaky voice echoes in the small cabin.

As I consider restricting my thinking to avoid mind reading, I realize that if my mind is being read, I just revealed my plan. The anger builds up; I want to punch the old bastard in the face so badly, despite his condition.

"I don’t know who first lost their words!" I bark at him, avoiding direct eye contact. Forget the satchel; he'll never see it.

I turn around and storm out, slamming the old door behind me.

----------------------------------------

Sprinting up the rocky road for a few minutes, I finally reach the small castle ruin. The pathway feels safe, surrounded by dense, inaccessible bushes. There’s no sense of threat, and the path is straightforward, with no chance of getting lost.

I quickly run up the stairs, skipping steps with large strides. "Miiike, Astrid!" I call for them. But no one answers. I sigh.

After some deliberation, I decide to crawl through the stone wall again. "Well, here we go." The anxiety strikes back. I can already smell death while crawling through the opening.

In the bright sunlight, I can finally see my nemesis: the mossy statue, which is apparently not a statue but some kind of giant, indestructible, hostile being with tremendous strength. It seems to serve one purpose: protect the chest underneath it. No matter how much I regret my actions, I declare that whatever my purpose in life is now, I will one day destroy this thing and loot that chest!

----------------------------------------

It sits there quietly in its pile of bones, hands resting on its knees. No one could distinguish it from a statue, carved from gray stone, but I know what's going on.

No breathing, no movement. I study its face from the side, taking in the surroundings in the bright light, starting from the top and slowly looking around to memorize the details. The gate is untouched; they never made it through the normal way. Nothing special about the ruin walls either. The whole place seems more cramped than it felt at night. All the magic of the place is gone, as no stars are shining upon it.

It seems like an ordinary abandoned ruin, or more likely a cemetery. Even the statue itself oddly fits in the courtyard, despite being too big for it.

I’m afraid to look underneath the bridge, to find the corpses of Mike and Astrid. Do I want to see the dead bodies of people I spent the last hours with? I briefly check the wooden bridge and the walls surrounding it. Not a single trace of them.

Looking down at the pile of bones and rusty equipment, I’m relieved there are no corpses. Continuing my sneaky walk to approach the statue more from the front, my sight lands on the statue itself and its hand that crushed me.

"Wha... what is this?" I freeze for a moment.

Looking at the giant's resting hand, I notice a bloody turquoise piece of cloth hanging between its fingers. "What the..."

"Ah, fuck!" I frown, petrified. There lies my mutilated corpse, limbs twisted in unnatural ways. Head slightly decapitated and stomach wide open with intestines hanging out. I instantly feel nauseous and almost faint.

----------------------------------------

Wriggling back through the opening, I exit the castle hall and sit on the stairs.

Staring into the abyss, I relive my moment of death. I can't fight my brain; the flood of images and torturous thoughts overwhelms me, and I have no power over it.

----------------------------------------

I don't know how long I stared—maybe hours, maybe minutes. But afterward, I feel numb.

The ambivalent feelings no longer overwhelm me.

Taking a deep breath, I feel like I just woke up from a long night's sleep. Looking around, I have a feeling that a lot of time has passed. It’s way past noon.

I get up, feeling heavy as if I haven't moved for hours. Strangely, I feel rejuvenated, stronger, and more determined.

"Why do I even feel this way? Am I a completely different person? Is this the brain's defense mechanism creating a different personality?" Wondering and analyzing, I notice that the abyss I was staring at the whole time is indeed not a shadow over the rocky wall but a large crack in it. Large enough for me to fit through.

"Items," I say out loud and take out my broken batons. Looking at them, worried, I remember a finer piece of weaponry that awaits me a few steps away.

I quickly enter the upside-down hall.