A magic sword. He had an actual magic sword. It got better:

* 1) Absorb Enchantment

* Darkfang can absorb weapon enchantments cast into standard-made enchantment stones.

* 2) Mana Battery

* The mana battery housed inside the pommel has been activated. You can now use the imbuing rod to channel your mana into it. This will allow you to use the stored mana to activate the Magical Edge and other abilities of the sword. The capacity of the battery will increase as the sword grows in power.

* 3) Detonation

* Expend the stored mana inside the pommel, or the life force contained in the gems, or both, in a detonation. The shockwave will start just outside your body, so you will not be affected.

The imbuing rod worked similar to a honing steel: you held it by the handle and ran the metal rod along the length of the edge. As advertised, however, this did not sharpen the (blunt) edge, and instead took mana from his own reservoirs and stored it in the pommel. Jiru spent the next fifteen minutes doing exactly that, and he could feel the pull of magic that was extracted from him. It was uncomfortable, and the effort felt similar to jogging, making him breathe harder.

This was a much slower, less efficient process than the one used by most proper mages (who could imbue mana to enchanted objects at will) but since Jiru had neither the training nor the mana channels necessary for that, the only option was to do it the hard way. It was expected that he would have to spend a lot of time imbuing mana into the weapon, which was the reason the imbuing device was shaped like a sharpener - he would look no more unusual using it than someone who was obsessed with keeping his sword sharp.

When he felt he was done, he got dressed and stepped out to find someone waiting.

"The Captain is waiting for you," The guard named Gunnar said.

"Let's go, then."

There was a surprise at the Captain's office.

The lookie-loos had been shooed off and the cart with the body was gone. They had been replaced by an assorted group of eight armed men and women who were standing around outside the office, waiting.

And they fell in step behind him as the guard led him through the gate.

Jiru paused.

His little entourage paused in sync behind him.

"This way," Gunnar's voice had a distinctly firm tone to it.

Jiru shot him a look, and then gave another look at the impromptu retinue behind him. None of them had their hands on their weapons, but Jiru had been in their shoes in similar situations enough times, and he recognized the unmistakable underlying tension of people who had been told to expect trouble.

"This way," Gunnar repeated.

Jiru did not move.

The pause stretched on, pregnant with the possibilities of all the ways this could go wrong. A couple of the guards began to sweat.

What do I do here? Draw?

If he attacked, it would be a crime - if he wasn't in trouble now, he definitely would be then. He was also very much aware that winning a fight against nine opponents in a close-quarters fight (using weapons that he was not familiar with, magic sword or no) was the kind of nonsense that only happened in the movies. Death was a much more likely result of such a scenario, and there wouldn't any respawns waiting. On the one hand, he now knew the afterlife existed - and he liked his odds of ending up on the happy side of it - but on the other hand, he'd be failing his mission.

Could be nothing. Maybe they're just being careful.

Either way, there would be no turning back if he did something stupid now.

Let it play out. I'll see how it goes.

He turned and smiled at Gunnar.

"Sure," He said in fake sweetness. "Right behind you."

They walked on.

"Come in."

Brienna Ferren was a tall, sharp-eyed thin woman whose close-cropped hair was just starting to grey a bit. She sat behind her desk writing something, looking up as he entered her office.

"The boar bounty, ma'am," Gunnar declared.

"Sit." She gestured at the chair in front of her desk, and Jiru sat while the guard stood to the side. He heard the clinking of armor and realized that the eight who'd been following him had posted up outside the door.

"What's your name, stranger?"

"Jiru Vanchi Rama."

"Where are you from, Jiru Vanchi Rama?"

"Long way from here."

"No, I mean, where are you coming from now? What was your last stop before our town?"

"Oakenpeak." He mentally congratulated himself for having had the foresight to check out Everwatch and its immediate surroundings on his map.

"You didn't arrive with a caravan," She said. "You travelled alone through the wild trail?"

"Don't like caravans. It's faster to ride alone."

"Ride? You were on foot."

"I was. Lost my horse two… no, three days back. She stumbled on a root and fell, I had to put her down. Walked the rest of the way."

When did I become such a good liar?

"The boar. How did you kill it?"

He pointed at the handle of the sword sticking out above his right shoulder.

"Hmmm." She grunted.

A quiet silence reigned for a few beats. Captain Ferren, hands folded serenely together on top of the desk, gave him a drilling stare. The seconds ticked by.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"I know this tactic," Jiru said icily. "Let the silence grow uncomfortable enough that the other person says something to break it. Thing is though, that's an interrogation technique, and I can't think of a reason why you'd be interrogating me now. Care to explain?"

More silence. This time Jiru glared right back, and the silence stretched on and on. And on.

"The timing of your appearance is rather suspect." She admitted eventually.

"What does that mean?"

She smiled. It was a nasty smile, and there was something unreadable there.

Something was really wrong here.

"Look, is there a bounty or is there not a bounty? Because I have places to be, and - "

"Where?" She snapped suddenly. "What brings you to our corner of the world?"

He felt his stomach knot up. He had to be very, very careful here. The truth was out of the question - he'd been warned not to tell anyone except for a select number of people - and she wasn't one of them. Even if he was stupid enough to be truthful, it would be dismissed as unbelievable, or get her more suspicious of him, and if she repeated it to anyone, likely his pursuers would be warned, pushing the goal even further away from his grasp.

"Same thing as everyone else. Wanted to see the Edge of Civilization." He gave the answer that he had prepared as a cover story in case he needed one. "Maybe cross over, try my luck hunting monsters."

"Hmmm." Another grunt.

"Why all the questions?"

"Nothing. Like I said, the timing of your arrival - with a dead monster in tow - is a bit suspicious, that is all."

"The boar attacked me on the way here. I had no idea there was a bounty on it."

"So I heard from my guards. Tell me, what is the name of Lahmee's best friend?"

"What?"

"Lahmee's best friend. Do you know who that is?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Lahmee's best friend."

"Stop saying that like it's supposed to mean something. Is it a riddle? I don't get it."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure? About what?"

"Are you sure you don't know who Lahmee's best friend is?"

The confusion tried desperately to work itself out in his head - and failed. Jiru looked at Gunnar out of the corner of his eye and saw that the man was openly scowling now, with his hand on the grip of his weapon.

Something clicked somewhere in the back of his head, and a scary, horrifying possibility entered his mind.

Peter Parker?

His heart went off like a jackhammer trying to beat its way out of his chest. It couldn't be…

That unreadable smile was back on the captain's face. Except now he knew what it meant.

"See, funny thing," She said, "One of our wealthy residents approached me earlier today. Said that a stranger would come into town either today or tomorrow, and that he would be an invader from another land, here to assassinate our Mayor. He said there was an easy way to test it, too. Said all I had to do was ask this stranger a question about Lahmee and Aorca."

Peter Parker. They just asked me what Spider-man's alter ego is. And I didn't know.

"Every child in the country knows about Lahmee and Aorca. Where are you really from, Stranger?"

"I'm not an assassin."

"Not what I asked."

"I'm from here," He insisted, "I just had a bit of an unusual childhood."

"All right, believable enough. So let me try this: how many bandits did Sven the Trickster defeat with his cunning?"

Jiru briefly considered throwing out a guess but his pause had been too long. She kept going.

"Who was the Evil King of Churhal? Or, if you want to stick with our real world, what year did Spardira break off from Garmek? When did the War of the Bad Apples end?"

Pause.

"Anything?" She asked. "No? One chance, stranger. You get one chance. Who are you really? And where are you actually from?"

There was a hiss behind him as Gunnar's blade left its sheathe. The door opened and two of the eight walked in, mace and shortsword out.

Well, that didn't take long. How much do I want to bet that this mystery guy who warned her is with the portal douchebags?

Of all the ways he had thought he might end up defeated, this certainly hadn't been one of them.

Moron. I'm a moron. Went off into another world without a clue like it was some grand adventure.

"Take off that sword harness, and don't resist. You're under arrest."

"For what?"

"Excuse me?"

"What am I being arrested for? Killing a monster that had a bounty on it? Not knowing some cultural trivia?"

She smiled again. "Suspicion of fraud," She said. "You showed your identity papers to my guards, remember? Well, we're going to check your identity. If everything is on the level, you'll be released. On the other hand…" She stopped there and let the threat hang.

"Take off the sword harness." She repeated.

The silence this time was as suffocating as it was threatening. A turning point.

His fate had suddenly become Schrodinger's cat made real: he could fight and escape, or surrender and take his chances… both futures existed simultaneously, both hanging on a razor's edge, both equally real. What would happen after he was taken into custody? Could he trust whatever system they had? How much influence did the 'wealthy resident' have over the police? Was it even possible for him to escape? He had no horse. Maybe he could steal one... he could ride pretty well, thanks to having played polo at the Military Academy…

Something moved in his peripheral vision, and the possibilities collapsed into reality as the decision was taken out of his hands.

He moved in response.

One hand came up to catch the incoming mace at the upper half of its shaft, even as he stood and shoved the chair with his foot, ramming it into the second guard with the shortsword. Gunnar stepped forward and Jiru twisted the mace he had caught, forcing the guardsman between him and Gunnar's sword. Then he brought up his foot, ramming it with every bit of strength he could muster into the mace-wielder's knee. The man screamed and went down.

Jiru did not draw his sword, the space was too confined for that. Instead he moved in past Gunnar's weapon's range and grappled the guard's sword arm with one hand and with the other he grabbed the poor man's helm, yanking it off and bring it back down in the same move. Gunnar had just enough time to widen his eyes in realization before it cracked down on his forehead once, twice, and the third time with such force that the helm almost went flying out of hand. Poor Gunnar staggered back, shaking his head and blinking to stave off unconsciousness. More movement out of his peripheral vision made Jiru turn, and he maneuvered the now-disoriented Gunnar's arm, using the guard's sword to catch an incoming attack from Outside Guard#2's shortsword. He then lashed out with his left leg, push-kicking the woman back several steps before he threw the helm at her face. She screamed and went down as Jiru turned, throwing a perfect left roundhouse that his combat instructor would've been proud of.

The fist crashed into Gunnar's face, smashing his head into the wall. The man slid down to the ground, the back of his skull painting a streak of red on the wall.

Two more guards came in from outside.

He sensed movement behind him and turned just in time to see Ferren pointing something at him.

There was a flash, and a bang.

The world went silent, and began to spin.

Hands grabbed at him. He fought back, but the vertigo was overwhelming. Fists and blunt weapons rained on him, breaking his nose, cutting open the skin on his face in several places from sheer blunt force trauma. The spinning was nauseating, like he was at the center of a high-speed centrifuge.

Jiru felt bile rise to his throat, and promptly vomited all over his attackers.

The beer and chicken he'd just consumed together came out in a marvelous bit of mess. The sheer shock and disgust of it gave everyone pause. He would have used the opening to escape, but his legs weren't responding. He reached out to the wall to steady himself, failed, and fell to the ground.

Someone said something. Someone was yelling. Someone kicked him in the ribs. Someone said something else. Someone grabbed his hands and pushed them behind him, and he felt something metal on his wrists, likely chains or irons.

More voices.

The world kept spinning.

Darkness.