Morning came way too fast. Ryo groaned into his pillow, clinging to the last vestiges of sleep. He half-wondered if staying perfectly still might make the universe forget he existed—so he wouldn’t have to face the day. It was a brilliant plan… until Anna proved immune to his nonsense.
“Ryo.”
He pretended not to hear.
“Ryo, I swear on everything, if you don’t get up—”
“Five more minutes,” he mumbled.
Silence. And then—a cold bucket of water splashed over his head.
“AGH—!”
Ryo jolted upright, water dripping from his face. He fumbled for his blanket, but Anna had already yanked it away. Standing over him with a mischievous smirk and the bucket still in hand, she declared, “There. Now you’re awake.”
Ryo glared, shivering. “I hate you.”
“You’ll hate me more if you miss the caravan,” she snapped.
Ryo wiped his face. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
Anna shrugged. “Not my fault you refused to pack last night.”
Technically, that was on him. Ignoring the problem had seemed like a perfectly valid strategy—until it never did go away.
Reluctantly, Ryo got dressed while Anna ran through her checklist.
“Extra clothes?” “Check.”
“Travel rations?” “Check.”
“Basic medical supplies?” “Check.”
“Weapons?”
Ryo blinked. “…I feel like that one should’ve been first on the list.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “You’re the one who keeps ‘accidentally’ winning fights. You’re practically a walking disaster.”
Ryo sighed. “I still think we could just not go.”
“Too late.” Anna shoved his bag into his hands. “We’re going, and you’re going to act like a functional person for once.”
Ryo groaned. “Sounds like a lot of effort.”
“It is. Too bad.”
After a long, defeated pause, he slung the bag over his shoulder. “Fine. But I’m sleeping for half the trip.”
Anna smirked. “No promises.”
Outside the tavern, the whole village had gathered to see him off—far more than he’d expected.
“Why are there so many people?” Ryo muttered, already uncomfortable.
“Because you’re a local legend now,” Gregor said, strolling up beside him. “The undefeated tavern lord. The man who crushed a noble with a single touch. The mystery swordsman of Ashford—”
“Okay, please stop.”
“Too late, kid. You’re famous.”
Ryo screamed internally as villagers started placing bets:
“I give him a week before he wins the whole tournament!”
“Nah, three days tops!”
“Ten silver says he beats the royal champion by accident!”
Horrified, Ryo turned to Anna. “This is a nightmare.”
“You did this to yourself.”
Gregor chuckled. “You’ll be fine, kid. Just don’t die—that’d be bad for business.”
“Wow, thanks.”
He eyed the small travel flask Gregor handed him. “Something strong for the road. Might make the trip less miserable.”
Ryo inspected it suspiciously. “You didn’t poison this, right?”
Gregor laughed. “Nah. I just made it stronger than usual.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Ryo sighed. “I’ll take it.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “You better not drink it all at once.”
Ryo smirked. “No promises.”
The caravan wasn’t small. Merchant wagons, noble travelers under a large canopy, and—of course—adventurers, all lined up impatiently. Ryo stopped.
“This is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?”
Anna patted his shoulder. “Yes.”
A merchant in fine robes waved at them. “Ah! Master Ryo! You’ll be traveling with us, yes?”
Ryo forced a smile. “Unfortunately.”
“Excellent! We’re honored to have such a prestigious warrior accompany us!”
Ryo groaned internally. This was going to suck.
As the caravan prepared to leave, Ryo scanned the mix of travelers:
The Nobles – a small group of aristocrats, one blonde noblewoman eyeing him with interest.
The Merchants – older traders whispering about bandit attacks.
The Adventurers – a motley crew of mercenaries, knights, and bounty hunters, several of them staring him down, including one burly guy already cracking his knuckles.
Ryo turned to Anna. “They’re going to challenge me to duels, aren’t they?”
Anna smiled sweetly. “Absolutely.”
Ryo groaned. “I hate this trip.”
As the wagons lurched forward, the early morning sun cast long shadows over the dirt road. For a brief moment, with birds chirping and wildflower scents in the air, Ryo almost believed the journey might be peaceful. Then a burly adventurer riding alongside called out, “So, Master Ryo, are the rumors true?”
Ryo, half-dozing, barely lifted his head. “Probably not.”
The adventurer grinned. “Come on, they say you once took down a knight with your bare hands.”
“Exaggeration.”
“And that you won a duel by just standing still?”
“Dumb luck.”
“And that you deflected an arrow with a spoon—”
“Complete lie.”
Another rogue whistled. “If even half of that’s true, you must be crazy strong.”
Ryo sighed. “Or people are just really bad at telling stories.”
“Then prove it,” the burly swordsman challenged.
Ryo closed his eyes. “…No.”
Wrong answer. Instantly, dozens of eyes locked onto him.
“You’re seriously gonna turn down a fight?” the rogue asked.
“You can’t blame us for being curious,” a female mage chimed in. “Everyone’s talking about you, but no one’s seen you actually fight.”
“Exactly!” the swordsman smirked. “A legend who never proves himself? That’s suspicious.”
Ryo groaned. “How is it ‘suspicious’ that I don’t want to get stabbed?”
“Because the only people who refuse duels are the ones who know they’ll lose,” the rogue said smugly.
Ryo massaged his temples. “Or maybe I just don’t care about all the hassle.”
“Coward,” the rogue muttered.
Ryo glared. “Fine.”
The adventurers leaned in. “Fine? You’ll fight?”
Ryo sat up a bit, stretched, and said, “I’ll make you a deal: if any of you land a single hit on me during this trip, I’ll spar properly.”
A moment passed. Then they grinned. “Challenge accepted.”
Anna facepalmed. “You just made it worse.”
Later, as the caravan rolled along, merchants whispered about bandits and assassins. One trader muttered, “They say there’s been an increase in assassins on the roads. Black Lotus, maybe?”
Ryo stiffened. Anna frowned, “What is it?”
“Nothing. Just reminding myself to sleep lightly,” he mumbled.
Anna narrowed her eyes. “You think there’s trouble?”
“There’s always trouble,” Ryo replied.
Soon, the caravan leader bellowed, “Alright, move out!” and the wagons surged forward. Ryo stared down the road. His slow, comfortable life was officially over.
The first few miles were deceptively calm—until the adventurers started chatting about his legendary feats. “They say you once deflected an arrow with a spoon!” one called out. Ryo sighed. “Maybe legends are just exaggerated nonsense.”
But just as quickly, the mood shifted. A knife whizzed past his ear. “Or not,” he muttered, as a shadow moved in the darkness and the first assassin struck.
Ryo’s instincts kicked in. He reached for his canteen, took a slow sip, and waited. Anna, still grumbling about the day, didn’t notice until a blade flashed from the trees. The assassin was fast and precise, but Ryo dodged with lazy, effortless shifts—a slight lean here, a casual tilt there. The assassin’s strikes missed by inches until, with a final desperate move, Anna grabbed her iron frying pan and hurled it. CRACK! The pan smacked the assassin’s skull, and the figure crumpled to the ground.
“…Anna,” Ryo said after a beat.
“What?”
“Did you just defeat an assassin with a frying pan?”
“Yes,” she replied matter-of-factly.
Ryo stared at the dented pan, then at the motionless body. “Huh.”
Before long, five more assassins rushed in. They moved with careful, practiced precision, and soon the camp erupted into chaos. Adventurers leapt to intercept, merchants scrambled, and Ryo sighed deeply. “I really wanted to sit down.”
Then, amidst the tumult, a lone cloaked figure—marked by a Black Lotus dagger—appeared. Ryo chased the shadow until he caught up, and in a split second, the assassin’s dagger came down. Ryo’s hand shot out, twisting the assassin’s wrist and flipping them onto their back with a solid THUD. The fight was over.
Ryo muttered, “…That was easier than I thought.”
Anna smirked, “Because you’re actually strong, idiot.”
“Please don’t say that too loudly,” Ryo replied, half-embarrassed.
After the ambush, the camp was quiet. Three assassins lay dead, two unconscious, and one had escaped. Aldric, a knight from House Valtieri, examined a dagger engraved with a Black Lotus—a mark that spelled trouble.
“They’ve never attacked outside the capital before,” Aldric murmured.
Ryo groaned, “Well, that’s probably bad.”
Aldric glared at him. “You sensed them before anyone else. That’s not luck—that’s skill.”
Ryo shrugged. “Maybe I’m just naturally talented.”
Aldric’s frown deepened. “Don’t joke about this, Ryo. If you’re hiding something, I’ll report you to the capital’s security the moment we arrive.”
Ryo exhaled, “I just have terrible luck.”
Aldric stepped closer. “Then explain it. Who are you really?”
Ryo sighed. “Ryo Valford. Disgraced noble. Tavern owner.”
Aldric’s eyes narrowed. “And yet you fight like a master swordsman.”
“Not master—unintentionally competent,” Ryo muttered.
Anna snorted, “That’s one way to put it.”
Aldric wasn’t amused. “If you’ve never had training, then your skill is suspicious. Assassins are after you, Ryo.”
Ryo winced. “Maybe I just attract trouble.”
Aldric’s tone hardened. “Explain yourself, or I’ll consider you an enemy.”
Ryo managed a wry smile. “Noted.”
Aldric scowled and walked off, leaving Anna to sigh, “That was tense.”
Ryo rubbed his face. “I need a drink.”
Back at the camp, as night fell and the caravan prepared for the next leg of the journey, everyone was on edge—merchants packing hastily, adventurers rechecking their weapons, and nobles watching the treeline. Ryo, still clutching the Guild summons and nursing his pride, muttered, “I really should have stayed in bed.”
And yet, despite the chaos and constant challenges, Ryo couldn’t shake the twisted humor of his fate. His legend had grown—from a reluctant tavern owner forced into a life of duels and danger, to a man who casually dodged assassins while earning the ire of nobles and the awe of adventurers. Even as he trudged onward with Anna at his side, he knew that in this unpredictable world, his slow, miserable life had become something far bigger—and infinitely more complicated—than he’d ever imagined.