Things always tasted that much sweeter when you craved them and had been lacking. The warm meal once we finally reached the inn was one of the best I had eaten in countless years - the cook, somewhat confused about how thankful we were for her recovery and appearance. Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat also felt this way. We had been on the precipice of destruction and yet came out victorious. It was a high that was only slightly dampened by the knowledge that the first time I drank blood was looming in my future, and the pent-up demand threatened to ruin all that I was building up in my new life in an orgy of blood and feral anger.

“Morning, Victor,” Florence smiled at me from one of the inn tables. Jakob sat beside her but just nodded a welcome, now fully back in his shell now that civilization was surrounding us once more.

“Good morning. Did you both sleep well?” I smiled and took a seat opposite the pair.

“Like rocks.” The Mage screwed up her face.

“Dead rocks,” the Ranger agreed.

Despite the bundles of tumultuous emotions we were, sleep had come easily with how completely spent we were. It was both physically and emotionally a terrible day, but a good meal and uninterrupted sleep had all but refreshed us.

Florence had changed into some of her own clothing, and the pinkish scarring from yesterday’s burns was still visible running down her neck. It looked mostly superficial - which was the important thing. No permanent muscle or nerve damage. Often Heroics led you down a path of slowly amassing injuries until you couldn’t function properly. Jakob looked miserable but otherwise unchanged from his usual appearance.

“Same here,” I nodded. “You two thought about our next step?”

“Of course,” the Mage tilted her head. “We did want to know your thoughts first, though.”

Whether they were deferring to me as a leader or had some trepidation about the path before us under the cold light of day… or cold gloom, as it so happened… didn’t really matter. That it was a group discussion was the important thing. No secrets, hopefully.

“Handing in our Quest seems most ideal,” I rubbed the side of my face. “We’ll pick our next target - but I don’t want to rush into another Villain battle so soon.”

“That was our thoughts, too,” Jakob nodded, looking out of the window. “Good to have an idea, but a little break from trauma would be appreciated.”

“Are you just thinking to rest then, Victor?” Florence tried to read my face.

It still shocked me how earnest they were with me. They have burdened me with their trust, and now it was up to me to not let them down. The old me would not have cared - even delighted in disappointing them in some dramatic fashion. But without being steeped in evil actions, I felt the least I could do would be to hold myself up to their standards.

“No, actually… I was thinking some adventuring work may be helpful.” I grimaced slightly - this kind of work was technically below us as Rankers - but I had ulterior motives.

“What kind of adventuring work?” The Mage now narrowed her eyes at me.

“Clearing away some undead. I heard some patrons talking about it last night. Local monastery is paying gold for proof of every kill.”

“Won’t that draw in a lot of competition?” Florence sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Apparently not,” I shrugged, “there’s not been a lot of pick-up if the voices could be believed.”

“There has been a shortage of adventurers locally,” Jakob agreed, tilting his head in thought.

They both seemed a little pensive about taking up the task - whether there was a hidden danger that we would come up against or if it was below their station, they didn’t seem too keen to crack some undead skulls for a bit of coin.

“It will be worth it, I assure you. We need the money.” I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows to invite any arguments against the idea.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Florence looked at Jakob and then deflated, exhaling deeply. “Fine.”

“We don’t have enough for the wagon again,” Jakob added.

Things must be dire if that was the case. The point of having more gold than I ever could need came relatively early in my life. That sort of thing was easy when you could just find a rich person and kill them, then everything was yours. Even easier when you can Mask as other rich people and start running the schemes where wealth just filtered into the coffers without having to muddy your hands.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure at this stage what that meant. I just had the compulsion to reassure them everything would be okay and that I could help.

With the meeting adjourned, we decided to head off to the Guild. The morning air had a bit of a chill to it, and the typically overcast sky with light rain seemed to be in full force again. There was still something I didn’t like about that - how unnatural it felt in my bones. Definitely a puzzle for a different day.

We entered the Headquarters and were greeted by the smell of burning candles and the warmth of a fireplace burning near the back of the room. Four figures sat in a group at one of the tables closest, and the impassive face of Clint practically lit up in recognition of us as we walked forward.

“Honestly, didn’t expect to see you again,” he grinned. “Did you have a change of heart?”

“Possibly,” I mused before coughing. “No, well - our Cleric did. But we have completed the Quest.”

“You did?” He leaned back on the chair and eyed us up.

We did look a little worse for wear, despite the good night’s rest. Tired eyes took a little longer to find their shine again. The scars and bruises we bore signified we at least got into a fight with something.

Jakob rummaged around in his pouch for a wrapped cloth. “Ah, um. There wasn’t much left to get as evidence as we burnt her to death.” With a grimace, he retrieved a charred piece of vine, not much bigger than a carrot but deep green and ridged.

“Oh. Hmm. Let me just take this through.” Gingerly he shuffled it onto a piece of paper and carried it through to the backroom after a couple of brief knocks.

Florence gave me a shrug. Pensive again, in the worry that the proof wouldn’t be enough and we would have suffered all that for nothing. Well, not nothing - we had become stronger in the knowledge we were able to accept one another. I caught that the Party across the room had been giving us glances, but I didn’t care for it. Heroes could sometimes be as jealous as any Villain - it was often a road traveled by those too vain or full of themselves to truly make a positive difference in the world.

After a few minutes of awkward waiting, the clerk eventually came back out empty-handed.

“Ah, so that seems to be acceptable evidence of Quest completion. I was surprised, myself - but not to say I doubted your abilities.” He grinned and waved his hands as if to brush and aspersions away.

“It’s fine,” I nodded politely. “It was not an easy task.”

“I can imagine.” He sat back in his chair and began to sort through some paperwork. “Why’d the Cleric leave - if that’s not prying too much?”

“We had a differing of opinion.” I gave him a glare to indicate this was as far as I was willing to avail him of. Naturally, the opinion was that I should be dead, and he should take all my power. We would remain at odds over this - at least until I could cleave his head from his neck.

“There’s no gold reward, right?” Florence pouted in an attempt to pull some strings with the young man.

“Unfortunately not - but if there is anything else we can do?” He winced, unsure as to what more we could want if we weren’t even receiving payment for our troubles.

I understood the Guild's stance on this. Being paid would put us one step closer to mercenaries or contract killers. On a base level, this was indeed what we were - with the reward being a brighter future for the children of the land and the promise of more power to repeat the cycle until our demise. Monetary incentives would entice the type of adventurers you wouldn’t want to be making life-and-death decisions based on morality.

“Could you perhaps ply some transport our way?” I leaned forward on the counter, causing him to recoil back into his seat. “We had a dependable horse and wagon yesterday, and although financial compensation would grease the wheels - having some actual wheels would allow our dependability to travel a lot further afield.”

“I can… go ask?” He paled slightly and stood, partly not wanting to get another dress down from his boss, most likely.

I allowed him to do so with a nod and turned to see the group of four watching me again. A man in a suit of blue-grey armor, a dwarf in leathers and green, a woman with black hair and purple robes, and a half-elf man with short brown hair in a black cloak.

“Good hunting?” I asked politely, in hopes that starting a conversation would sooner end their glares.

“Aye,” the dwarf nodded. “Getting tough out there as of late.”

“So I’ve heard. All the best with your next endeavor. May you continue to overcome the odds.” I nodded as a way to end the conversation. I had completed the necessary pleasantries and now just hoped that they would go back to their own business. After a few moments of silence, it seemed that was the case.

Clint returned with a grimaced smile across his face. “That will be arranged.” He deflated back into his chair and dragged three pages from a folder, placing them on the counter. “Care to choose your next Quest?”

Florence peered over from beside me and read out the names as Jakob idly stared at the noticeboard beside us.

Ratticus, Vermin Lord

Keye Greyson, Bandit King

Slither, Foul Wyrm

My right eye twitched, one of the names hitting a note of familiarity.