Time travel was one of my learned abilities - although I could only go forward. By emptying my mind of thoughts, I could delay the recording of the passing seconds. A waking sleep. The more that I tried to explain it, the less fantastical it sounded. In truth, I had an odd sense gripping at my insides. The weight of my actions and the looming task for the day ahead.

“I didn’t say old,” Florence waved her hands to try and dispel any awkwardness.

Jakob stretched his arms and looked out to the forest ahead. “You did.”

“I meant, you’re quite mature for an adventurer.” Her pale face turned into a grimace.

I suppose I was. Even ignoring my true age, with the beard, I looked much older than the rest of my Party. “I wasn’t always an adventurer.”

“Nobody is born into it,” Jakob murmured, mostly to himself. He had seemed more relaxed since we had left the town, and I appreciated the sleepy morose attitude.

A shrug was all I was able to offer them, and gestured for us to continue to move along the path. The dirt road was worn enough to make for light travel, and then we’d have to take a different path half a mile in. Nowhere near the sightings of the Monster that had ravaged the caravans.

Basil had read off the Quest briefing the night before, and despite trying to come off as being disinterested, I had actually paid attention. I was the most fragile I had been in centuries, it wouldn’t do to let my ego drag me into some unwinnable fight. At least I had two unwitting meat shields if that became the case. Emergency blood bags.

I had made the decision not to drink blood. Practically the worst idea for a fledgling vampire - but once you had your first bite, you were tied to it. You craved and survived on it. Somehow removing my rank had also reset that too. My power would increase if I drank blood, and I would be able to regenerate wounds - so it was handy to have a couple of human rations to hand in case things went sour. We could always call the project a failure, and I return to my greyscale misery at the estate.

Long-term effects of never taking your first bite? A gradual weakness, sometimes bouts of insanity, and brain fog. Nothing alcohol or the right drugs couldn’t fix or make worse. The longer I could remain with the visage of being a normal, if not unrealistically muscled, human, the better for my eventual goals.

The forest cooled me as we walked beneath the canopy. Despite the promise of overwhelming gloom and rainfall, the weather had decided to give us the rare sendoff of some sunshine. It was uncomfortable. Normally painful or deadly to a weak enough vampire, my [Human Mask] made it bearable. Thus, I found myself with a little more pep in my step as the gloom of the woodland enveloped us.

“Quest said there would be homunculus minions,” Florence looked around the treeline with narrowed eyes, “ever fought something like that?” The question was leveled to both of us.

“We have not.” I shook my head. Not technically a lie, as I had been somewhat allied with the Alchemist previously and thus had not fought against the weird constructions.

“I think they’re like weird mutants, given the brief hint of life.” Jakob tilted his head to listen out.

Basil nodded. “That is about it, young Jakob.”

The current situation seemed rather odd now. I disjointed myself from the present and observed us objectively. Maybe it was not being a bloodthirsty monster that made me so cordial with those I would usually detest and rend from existence.

Woodsworth twitched his mustache. “How did you two become adventurers?”

They exchanged glances before briefly looking away. Eventually, Florence took the lead in the story.

“Trolls came to our village and killed most, including both our families. We managed to kill one together, but…”

“There was a D Rank Troll leading them; we had to run.” Jakob finished, as he continued to look at the ground as we walked.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I raised an eyebrow at Basil. D Rank was quite high for a Troll. Monsters often stayed in their starting Rank other than in certain circumstances. “So, you’re training to be Heroes so you can go and kill this Troll?”

“That’s not- we want to do good, of course,” Florence flustered, “it's not purely for selfish reasons or-“

“Essentially, yeah,” Jakob interrupted.

Made sense to me, and I nodded toward them both. A very human response to being slighted - but then again, I would possibly do the same in their shoes. Had I ever been defeated, of course. The answer was simple.

“Well then,” I smiled, “if we all manage to live to see D Rank, the Troll will be our first quarry.”

“Really?” Florence looked taken aback, and narrowed green eyes of skepticism were leveled at me. “Why would you do that?”

“We are a Party now unless you were planning on ditching us?” I raised my eyebrows in feigned surprise, holding my open palms up. “Perhaps the reason your previous Parties failed was because you killed them. You’re making your livings in getting rid of prospective Heroes with nothing but optimism and twinkling eyes between their ears?”

“N-no, that’s not it- how… how dare?” Florence struggled for words.

It was what I would do, in their position and looking for a leg up to the Villainry ladder. Murder didn’t make you a Villain, despite society’s dim view of it, but a concerted plan of taking advantage of the weak - sowing terror around the area until it seeps into the very fabric of the environment… that gets heads turning.

“Perhaps they are even the Monsters that are shredding travelers in the forest,” Basil added. “Or they could be working for the Alchemist - bringing us as new subjects.”

“You’re right,” Jakob said calmly, brushing his hair from his eyes as Florence tried to cool her meltdown. “We could be all those things. But we have been honest with you.”

His eyes gave away his true feelings. Truth and sadness. I could almost feel it, as though it textured the air. Their troubles in gaining their Rank were a failure in their eyes. Vengence for their families waylaid again and again.

“If I didn’t trust you, we wouldn’t be here.” I lowered my hands and smiled. “But you have to be aware that not all around you are so straightforward, especially as we Rank up.”

The irony bit into my side. On the surface, I was sure to seem earnest, but I was a fraud. A Monster waiting beneath the bed. Vampire. Even thinking the name made the stubbled hair prickle on the back of my neck. They wouldn’t be my friends if they truly knew me. Whether this made any waves on the calm pond of my emotions, I’d ruminate on that later.

Florence and Jakob seemed to accept my admission and warning with a contemplative nod - possibly just glad I was no longer insinuating they were capable of horrors. If only they knew being a Hero was sometimes just being the one with the better public relations after the fact. Well, Heroes didn’t often massacre innocents, so not the best comparison.

“What about you two,” Florence looked back from the front of the group, “what’s your story?”

Ah. We had come up with a story, right? “Lost my wife to a vampire,” I blurted out. “Vengence, too, I suppose.”

“I just think evil needs to be eradicated, and my vow of silence wasn’t cutting it.” Basil clutched at the religious symbol around his neck. I forget which deity it was for; perhaps one no longer worshipped.

“Both… valid reasons. Not that I’m to judge what is acceptable or not.” The Mage gave a shrug and looked back to the woods ahead.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t pester more into my backstory and offer up their services to fight the supposed vampire. A Troll was one thing; a vampire required a certain amount of skills and knowledge. Which I possessed, naturally, but to emerge into my estate to fight my faint shadow seemed like a poor use of time.

If there was one thing the trail was quickly teaching me, it was that I wasn’t a huge fan of walking. Flight, a black stagecoach, even some poor minion hauling around my coffin - anything had been preferable to wasting my own energy on locomotion. My folly was thinking this was going to be an easy challenge - already on my second day, and my own legs were to become my ruin.

“Where’d you get the sword from? It’s magical, right?” Jakob turned his head to me out of the blue and gazed at the hilt poking up from behind me.

“Correct, good eye. It is, but it just has a basic glamour enchantment, nothing useful.” I gave him a sheepish grin and shrug.

“Still useful, though, against those resistant to mundane weaponry.” The Ranger turned back to walking ahead of us with the woman.

Either he got strength from the forest, or yesterday was just a bad day. Under the fragmented light of the sun failing to burst through the thick canopy, he came across as confident and knowledgable - yet still with the impassive matter-of-fact voice. He was intriguing, and I was more thankful to have agreed to their presence on our Quest.

Florence was also a mixed bag. Seemingly unable to bluster her way with us, she had become a bit more all over the place. Where the boy had a cold desire to see the slain Troll beneath his boot, the Mage-to-be wielded her fury like a mask. Indecision was a worse option than making the wrong options. You could temper someone like that over time. If you let rage control you, then you’d soon make a fatal mistake - but forged into a sharp edge, then anger could become a strength multiplier.

Whether she had that capacity remained to be seen. Death rates for prospective Rankers and F Ranks were… high. If we maintained a full Party, that would increase our odds - for them, anyway. I was sure my death was not looming around the corner.

With narrative fiat having an ear to my inner monologue, a twig snapped loudly to our left.