It was a wonder how anyone could survive being normal in this world. Just living a life of chores and family life. Not needing to be part of the greater picture, a soldier in the struggle for the balance of good and evil. There was a strength to it, although it was far beyond what I could accept. Some lives were meant to endure strife and grow or burn in the attempt.

The route to the monastery was simple enough - especially with a map procured. No sooner had we left the local area, but the drab skier had rescinded, leaving us with a rather pleasant and mild day. Mild was acceptable. Silence was our breakfast as we made the journey; there was not much on our minds other than everything that had happened.

“What do we do if we get there and everything’s been taken care of already?” Florence nervously fidgeted from the front.

“Rest day. Enjoy the countryside,” I huffed. A little short on the temper, but the group back at the Guild had left a tight corkscrew of stress in my brain, and I wouldn’t be contented until it had been resolved.

“Be nicer than killing undead.” Jakob agreed.

“Undead are beneath us, certainly,” I sighed and looked out to the roving empty fields of wildgrass. “But earning gold is not, lest you plan on eating the wagon in a few days.”

They both groaned an acknowledgment but didn’t want to press the matter. I understood it, they had killed two F Rank Villains, and their bread and butter should be more of the same. We were still at the early stages, however, where each Quest was a traumatic and potentially fatal encounter. If you rushed from one to the next, you would sooner trip and fall on your own blade than ascend the Ranks.

Of course, this would all fall on deaf ears at this stage, and despite their trust in me, I didn’t feel like a lecture would rouse their spirits any further. It was a sour day, despite the pleasant weather. The honeymoon period of having faced death and lived had now worn off, and now they sought it again. Best to temper that early; becoming cold and battle-starved got you into more terrible situations than out. I knew this from experience.

“You said you had family. Is that who we are going to see?” The Ranger’s question came across bluntly, striking me in the ears from across the wagon.

“No. An old acquaintance. Emphasis on both of those identifiers.”

“Noted.” Jakob stared up at the almost cloudless sky.

Introducing them to family would not go well for any party involved, least of all two low Ranking humans. As much as I desired to cut down all the mistakes made in my past life, there was still a bond between blood - even if it was weak. I let it stay inevitable but currently forgotten.

“Looks like we’ll be there shortly,” Florence pointed out with her gloved finger.

Ahead of us, by a mile or so, was a stonework building beside a copse of trees. It was circular in design, and sporadic darkened windows punctured the walls that were almost luminescent in the sunlight. Modest yet still awe-inspiring in a way. No immediate danger seemed present - although I had assumed that any undead presence wasn’t at the actual monastery.

“What sort of proof of zombie kills do we have to take?” Jakob had lowered his hood over his eyes again, enjoying the brief respite from the looming sun. I could appreciate that.

“Up to the monks, I suppose.” I tilted my head. “I would imagine… well, it’s difficult as zombies don’t always have all the parts.”

“Plus,” Florence added, “they’ll have even less after we have dealt with them.”

“Why not…” Jakob lifted his hood up to furrow his brow at me. “Why not kill the source of the undead rising?”

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I relaxed and smiled. “There we go, that’s what I was waiting for.”

Florence turned her head to furrow her brow at me as well.

“This isn’t just about killing monsters and earning gold. It’s about problem-solving. Seeing the bigger picture.” Certainly, a lot of adventurers may pick up the same thread, but some would be content to pointlessly hack away at living corpses. Some, even worse, would leave the source so that they could return for easy gold or favor.

“You could have said that at the start,” Florence shook her head and returned to watching the road.

“There’s a lot of things I could do,” I grinned at the Ranger, “but if you want to grow in Ranks, then you have to develop these skills too - I may not be around forever.”

They fell back into silence. Perhaps they had thought the vampire should easily outlive them. All things going well, I probably would. Things often didn’t go well unless you made certain they would. If my secret got out more publicly, then at the least there would be vampire hunters after me - even under the assumption the Guild would judge me not a threat due to my actions. That chance was slim.

“The source isn’t your acquaintance we are meeting, is it?” Jakob was beneath the shadow of his hood once more, and his hand tapped idly at the quiver beside his lap.

“No. I would at least give you a warning of that. She is no danger to us - although getting to her may prove a challenge.”

He nodded, that being seemingly enough explanation to satisfy his curiosity.

If anything, she may no longer exist. While some Villains seem to live well past normal life expectancy for their ancestry, often they all fall to old age eventually. I myself had lived for centuries and may be in the waning years of my life. It was hard to tell with vampires - the assumption that blood kept us youthful and strong only worked for a certain time, and often the onset of withering away happened quickly in the view of our long lifetimes.

Again, we allowed morose thought and anticipation to settle amongst the wagon. It was these quiet times when the weight of existence felt heaviest. Without fear or adrenaline or jubilation coursing through your system, only sober thought remained. Whether they regretted being there for me now that they were under the cold light of day, they hadn’t really shown any change of heart. Likewise, I was under no mood to disband from them.

Still green behind the ears by the standards I was used to - but they had the passion and trust that it took for a Party to work. I knew because I had set out to ruin many a Party that did not have such strong bonds.

“What powers do you have?” Jakob once again prodded me with questions.

“As a vampire, I assume you mean?” I waited for his brief nod before I continued. “I have some reflexes and strength from my past life. Slightly increases senses and minor health regeneration. Nothing major until I am a proper blood drinker.”

“How much blood and how often-“

“Jakob! Leave Victor alone with all the questions.” She turned and shot the Ranger a scowl. “Worry more about the day ahead.”

He was trying to work out a way to get me fully powered while also staying a Hero and not becoming a threat to them. I could tell because I had dallied around these thoughts myself. Was it possible? Under specific conditions which were currently both out of our reach and out of our control. For now, we would continue to act as though I was not a vampire and hope that the day when my nature became a problem was far ahead of us. When they could deal with me in that mania.

“If there is a solution, you’d be the first to know.” I nodded to him, and he returned the action briefly, understanding that we were on the same wavelength.

For all the fire and anger that Florence could be filled with, Jakob was almost the opposite with how calm and cold he could be. It was good to have that balance and no doubt it had kept them going for as long as they had been able to. You need assertive, but you also need apprehensive. They were a little part of me, in a way - as much as that may just be me stroking my ego.

Between the pointed questions and reflective musings, we eventually made it close to the monastery in all its glory. The small grouping of trees nearby was vibrant, possibly fruit-bearing, if my recollections were correct - and as we approached, I could make out from the side of the building where vegetables were in early growth.

Petal slowed as we approached the gate, the short offshoot of the main road allowing us to be out of the way of the total lack of other traffic we had encountered. A short man hobbled over to the dark wooden gate and put his hand over his eyes to observe us. He wore a plain brown robe tied around his midsection with a hemp rope. His hair was shaved short, and he looked to be in his late fifties.

“Greetings, how can we help you?” He called out with a scratchy voice.

“We are here to help with the zombie problem,” Florence nodded.

“Ah, divines bless us! We thought no help would come; please do enter.” He stepped to the side to unhook the gate latch, opening it wide so that the wagon could fit through.

I narrowed my eyes around the area.

For a holy place, there was a certain odd feeling to the energy within the main building.