“Why?”

  My words were cold.

  I did not dislike the sheriff, and I believed his loyalty to the kingdom was genuine – as such, I had reason to assume his trusted deputy shared those values.

  However, there was a distinct difference between acting for the greater good, and simply doing good.

  Moreover, after what happened with the kind, respected elderly priest just days ago, I couldn't just blindly assume his actions were for the greater good, either.

  “Because they couldn't be saved.”

  “Be more specific.”

  This time, it was Jimmy who spoke, earning a disappointed glance from the deputy.

  “They were under some sort of trance. Some goblin shamans had been known to brew potions, so it could be the case. Either way, their minds weren't there. Even pain didn't bring them out of that state.”

  “And you expect us to take your word for it?”

  The deputy's annoyance visibly grew at Jim's question, but he took a deep breath, and turned to me.

  “You have exceptional perception. Tell me – did you hear any humans cry for help, or scream in pain?”

  After a brief silence, I shook my head. I would have heard any such sound even from a few hundred meters, let alone a few dozens.

  “So then, do you think I could really kill all those people, without a single one making a sound, all by myself?”

  To be honest, I wasn't sure.

  On one hand, he might have had a sound muffling ability or artifact – something like what the town watch headquarters - and Harold’s office - used.

  On the other hand, he could have put them in that dazed state to begin with, using some other alchemical concoction or powder which we didn't see.

  And, on the proverbial third hand, which some creatures in this world surely possessed, he might have lied about there being more than 5 captives from the start.

  Still, I had no evidence to claim any of the above possibilities as likelihoods.

  Furthermore, I couldn't perceive any sign of the deputy lying, although, given everything I've seen, perhaps he was a master of deception.

  “Then why the deception? Why not tell us the truth from the start?”

  Jimmy, too, couldn’t help but view Thomas in that light.

  “Because of exactly this!”

  Finally, the deputy couldn't help but raise his voice in frustration.

  “I would expect this foolishness from a greenhorn – even if,he should’ve been aware of how those things go sometimes… but you, a former soldier with years of monster subjugation experience!.. Truly, I never expected you to forget so soon. How terrible being a sacrifice in those blasphemous rituals can be!”

  The deputy was brimming with anger, as Jimmy averted his eyes.

  “Do you know? The best outcome for them would be a quick, clean death. At worst, their souls would be damned for eternity, offered as a trading chip to some devil, substance to a ravenous demon, or tithe to an evil god.”

  This time, it was my turn to avert my gaze under the weight of the deputy's words.

  Given everything that happened in the cave – the priest keeping Amelia's dead body, and my Trait, which countered soul-targeting abilities, activating near the end of the fight… I already had a near-certain suspicion about the evil god worshipper’s intentions.

  “What reason would I even have to kill them otherwise? Instead of flinging baseless accusations, ask yourself whether you would do the right thing in my shoes, or simply ignore the bitter truth, leaving the captives to a fate worse than death.”

  Of course, there was a scenario where he did have a motive.

  Perhaps, there were indeed over a dozen prisoners, but only some of them were in a condition to escape.

  Given his earlier insistence on preventing goblins from gaining sacrifices, he'd have to slay the ones who couldn't make it - some before the escape, some afterwards - as soon as it became clear they couldn't run far or fast enough.

  Not only would that force him to chase the escaping villagers after the assassination, outrunning the goblins, separating from us, and potentially having to chase multiple spread-out groups, but any survivors who did escape would report what happened to the rest.

  Such stories would only serve to undermine the people's trust in the kingdom, and there were multiple other risks, rising from the unknown variables.

  As such, he went for the simplest, most certain solution.

  …Of course, all of this was presumptions on top of presumptions.

  Individually, they might have been enough to fuel my distrust. But, as it was, they were stretched very thin – nowhere near concrete enough to make an enemy of my benefactor’s right hand man, who was still escorting me to be interrogated by high ranking officials in the big city.

  Exhaling in reluctance, I turned my eyes back to Thomas.

  “My apologies. Perhaps I was overly paranoid after what happened with the priest.”

  Hearing my words, Thomas's expression softened, albeit not completely.

  “I will not apologize for seeking the truth you chose to conceal. But I will accept your explanation.”

  The deputy shook his head with a sigh, but waved his hand dismissively at Jim's claim.

  “And now you know the truth. For all the good it will do you...”

  He looked into the man's eyes.

  “I suggest you don't specify the details of their deaths – the information regarding goblin shamans brewing potions is classified, albeit barely, and the details of this mission shall be classified as well.”

  It would appear the militia leader wanted to reply, yet Thomas continued faster than he could utter a word.

  “The civilians living in that village will not be as accepting as you – and if rumors start to spread, this will cause serious problems for both the village folk, and for the rumor's presumed source.”

  In response to the thinly veiled threat, the large Warrior narrowed his eyes, but after a few moments, he sighed in acceptance.

  “Fine. Fine… they will hear no word about it from me.”

  “Then our business here is concluded. We shall depart for Westville. You should return to your family as well.”

  Without saying another word, ‘Big’ Jimmy turned his gray horse, and began his journey back to the village.

  “Let’s go.”

  As he uttered those words, a trace of insult still within them, the deputy turned Gust in the opposite direction. Cupcake soon followed.

  ***

  Over three hours passed, with us silently riding forward, passing the midway point between the villages with not a goblin in aight..

  We've eaten a few fresh bread loafs with water while leading the horses out of the cave earlier – not the most luxurious meal, but it was enough to stave off hunger for now.

  We've also spread some of the horse feed, of which we stocked two sacks in the village, on the cave's floor before we left, and let the horses drink at a small water stream on our way back, so they were well fed and hydrated, at least for now.

  Finally, Thomas stopped his horse, signalling a short rest.

  I got off Cupcake, tying her to a nearby tree, and took out a piece of meat from yesterday’s reception, as well as some more bread.

  Needless to say, the atmosphere was awkward – in no small part due to my own actions.

  Over the last few hours, I've had time to think.

  On one hand, just like the militia leader, I did not regret demanding to hear the truth, or at least a good enough justification.

  In a world with otherworldly creatures and deities, some capable of orchestrating the most insidious schemes, and conducting the most convincing deceptions, glossing over something of that magnitude was simply stupid.

  However, therein lay the crux of my hypocritical, or perhaps childish assessment of the situation.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  This was a world where souls existed, as evident even by my own Trait, and one where many otherworldly entities resided over multiple realms of the afterlife.

  Beyond that, this was also a world where humans and monsters walked beneath the same skies, and sometimes, crawled under the same rock and soil – and humans, even with their allied races and species, were not the undisputed masters of this world like they were on Earth.

  By Earth’s standards, the deputy's actions might have been the pragmatic choice, but their morality was highly, perhaps even extremely questionable.

  However, in a world where there existed fates much worse than death, would letting the villagers get taken away by the monsters, perhaps to be sacrificed in an unknown ritual to a malevolent entity, really be the moral choice? Or perhaps, refusing to kill them would be a choice born not out of compassion, but out of selfishness, weakness and cowardice?

  I found myself ashamed for presuming the deputy’s malice, given that he seemed like a decent person until now, and was the right-hand man of someone who's shown me a great deal of goodwill.

  Still, as someone who came from a different world, I couldn't just quietly accept this situation, pushing it aside into the farthest corners of my mind.

  While it was true that we only had two realistic options…

  ‘If only I was stronger.’

  …that was entirely due to our own shortcomings.

  ‘I must become stronger.’

  My first priority was my own survival, but that didn't mean I was alright with simply accepting every atrocity that took place right in front of me, simply averting my eyes and walking away.

  If, instead of me and Jim, the one who arrived with Thomas was the sheriff – the man who moved so smoothly in that massive plate armor, who effortlessly destroyed that massive block of stone without breaking a sweat…

  If it was him, would they really have to run? Or would the massive man, as big as the enemy leader, simply dispatch of the greater goblins like they were children, and mow through the dozens of goblins like one would through insects?

  In truth, I suspected that even if I, myself, was at the same level as Thomas, who clearly specialized in single target burst damage, stealth and sustained mobility, wiping out the goblins might have become a realistic plan.

  Of course, that was just another “what if” which would never come to pass.

  ‘I need to become stronger!’

  Once again, I promised myself there would come a day where I no longer needed to choose between doing what must be done, and doing what I felt was right.

  “I used to be like that too, you know.”

  Suddenly, I heard Thomas's voice from the side. I realized I've been leaning against the tree for several minutes, with a chewed piece of jerky in one hand, and a half-eaten breadloaf in the other.

  “Back in the day, on my first few missions, I would sometimes be ordered to stay back, and let the veterans handle the.. tough parts. I didn't want to avert my eyes, and got angry at the looks my complaints evoked – I still remember those looks, ranging from annoyance to pity.”

  His eyes showed a glint of genuine bitterness.

  “One day, the assigned team leader finally decided to stop cuddling me. Or rather, he had no choice but to do so. It was a mission involving a tiny remote village, where a certain adventurer party, which was doing a quest nearby, mysteriously disappeared.”

  I slowly consumed my meal, listening to the man’s story.

  “The reason we even took that mission was because one of those adventurers was monitored by us, suspected of being a blood cultist. The artifact we planted to track his location has gone dark, leading us to believe his cult had something to do with that disappearance.”

  “...”

  “However, as we followed the party's path, from the nearby hills to the village, nothing seemed out of the ordinary – as we entered the village, disguised as regular travelers ourselves, we couldn't find anything unusual at first.”

  The deputy’s tone darkened, as a shadow descended upon his eyes.

  “Of course, if it ended like that, this wouldn't be a story worth telling. At night, as we were staying in the local inn, we noticed something strange with the food. On such missions, it's a matter of protocol to take enough provisions to not rely on local supplies for sustenance, but one of us wanted to get a taste of the local mushroom stew. We actually passed through Pine Harbor on the way there, staying in Arthur's inn, so perhaps he wanted to compare them, or even just get another reminder of that wonderful taste.”

  The deputy's expression turned nostalgic, although I had a doubt it was because of that stew.

  However, his face soon turned grim, once more.

  “What we discovered was more terrible than we could have predicted – the mushrooms in the stew were abnormal, filling the liquid with tiny, still-living spores, invisible to a commoner’s senses. I later learned those mushrooms were being served to the villagers for months, slowly contaminating them.”

  The grim expression was replaced with disgust.

  “It also turned out those adventurers managed to notice it too, but their discovery was noticed by the perpetrator, in turn.”

  Even after all this time, the memories evoked a spark of wrath in his eyes.

  “It was a Spore Druid - member of a vile, forbidden druid circle. That low-level adventurer party didn't stand a chance. As for us…”

  The short man sighed, recalling the bitter memory.

  “There were four of us. Back then, the chief was already stronger than I am today. Harold, the other teammate, was about as strong as the Warrior who was with us earlier. And our team leader was stronger than all three of us combined – perhaps not as strong as the chief today, but certainly close.

  Still, if we were to fight the druid head on without preparation, there was a real possibility of defeat, and at least some deaths would be guaranteed. The druid could use the whole village, the dozens of men, women and children who called it their home, as both substance for his spells, and a way to increase his survivability to an absurd degree.”

  His eyes became unfocused, looking into the distant past.

  “And so, the squad leader devised a plan. That night, we came to the dining hall, not so different from Brightroot here. The druid was disguised as the friendly, respected village elder, while nearly every person in the village had come for dinner – with the main dish being the same mushroom stew.

  Just as that meal was served, our leader launched a surprise attack on the druid, cleaving his body in two. Of course, we knew this wasn't the end of the fight – just the first move, meant to buy us a few precious seconds. Seconds we used to strike down as many of the villagers as we could.”

  The short man looked to the side, the corner of his mouth twitching.

  “They say one of the layers of the Abyss is a horrid, dank place, full of fungi, poisonous spores and lakes of bile. The scene in front of us would fit such a dreadful place.”

  His voice shook, ever so slightly.

  “Poisonous spores and fungal growths were bursting out of the corpses. Worse, they were bursting out of the living villagers, popping out of a mother's mouth and her children's eyes, as their soul piercing screams filled the building – and as our firebombs filled it with flames, incinerating the pitiful commoners to ash.”

  The deputy exhaled once more.

  “That wasn't even the end of it, either – it turned out the druid left a few villagers outside, as insurance, which allowed him to reassemble his body. It was a brutal fight… The price of killing that druid, for good, was Harold's life.”

  I could hear the faint shift in his voice.

  “As for me, I barely slept for weeks after that mission. If the chief wasn't by my side back then… I might have left the army back then.”

  The deputy finally finished his story, looking into the distance.

  “Why… tell me this now?”

  Thomas turned to me, his eyes glancing at the half-eaten meal in my hands, which would now remain such until the next stop, at least.

  “Because you need to learn, and it's much better hearing about this first before witnessing something like that yourself.”

  The deputy looked me in the eyes, like a teacher looking at a child. Well, in this body, and also in terms of experience in this world, I really was a child compared to him.

  “If you intend to continue down this road - be it adventuring, or any road that leads to power - you will eventually come across terrible things. It may not be likely at first, and most such encounters won't be as horrid as what I just described, but it will happen, regardless – and there's no guarantee you won't, one day, face something even worse.”

  “What are you saying? That I should quit adventuring?”

  “I’m saying that if you don’t have what it takes to make those hard choices yourself in the future, you might as well stop here. Those who hesitate often don't just throw their own lives away, but also those of their companions – and often, those they wish to save, as well.”

  “...I get it. I was in the wrong.”

  “It’s not about being right or wrong – it's about seeing the world for what it is, and making your choices accordingly. For your sake, I hope you won't forget it.”

  I couldn't help but avert my gaze… but then, I looked back at the deputy.

  “No.”

  “No?..”

  The man was taken aback by my firm denial.

  “It’s not about bending to the world's whims. Those people – if I was stronger, wouldn't there be a third choice? Wouldn’t we be able to wipe out those damn goblins, and keep everyone- or at least, most of them alive?”

  Thomas narrowed his eyes, looking at me with pity, and a small bit of disappointment mixed in.

  “I knew people like you. There would always be a few throughout the years.”

  He looked me in the eyes.

  “Most of them are dead now. And even the chief, for all his talent and will, learned to recognize his own limits.”

  “...I know my own limits.”

  I couldn't help but let the bitter feeling shine through my voice.

  “I was too weak to rescue those people. Too arrogant and greedy to stop Tim from marching to his death…”

  My voice became quieter.

  “Too stupid, hesitant and inexperienced to see the danger right under my nose. To trust my gut feeling, to investigate that priest… to keep Amelia from dying.”

  I could barely finish my words, lowering my eyes, fighting the icy hand gripping my chest with all I had. But I gritted my teeth, raising my gaze back up, locking eyes with the man standing in front of me.

  “But it won’t always be like this. I will become stronger. Stronger than you, stronger than your chief. When that day comes, I'll never let anything in this world, be it goblins, evil cultists, or even their damn god - they'll never take a thing from me again.”

  I realized my teeth hurt, and so did my hand, clutched so hard I became worried my bones might break.

  Perhaps it was Amelia's memory that riled me up to this extent – or maybe it was Thomas's defeatism, packaged as some kind of wise teaching.

  I knew those were quite the arrogant, greedy statements from someone who hasn't even reached his Path, let alone found a cure for his life-threatening affliction.

  But, I also looked to the future – to the day after I found such a cure.

  I wasn't sure I'd be able to return to Earth. Perhaps my body over there was already dead or in a coma for many years, or perhaps the price for that passage would be too great to pay. So, I could be forced to remain here.

  And if that were to happen… I would do my damned best to make sure it would be a life worth living. No matter how many monsters, lunatics, devils, demons even gods would try taking that life, or taking those in it that I cared about.

  After looking into my eyes, the deputy closed his own, shaking his head and exhaling in acceptance.

  “Fine.”

  He opened his eyes once again.

  “If that is your dream, I won't try to dissuade you.”

  His eyes looked tired – enough to make him look several years older in an instant.

  “However, very few ever achieved that dream. And those who did – someone once told me that by the end of their journey, what they had left to protect was dwarfed by what they've lost along the way.”

  A short silence descended on us.

  “...but I guess you'll have to learn this for yourself. Well, not like it’s my job to change your mind, anyway.”

  Thomas turned around.

  “Get ready. We'll be at the village soon.”