For several days, we had been traveling along a road that cut through endless fields where both living people and puppets toiled. Strangely enough, there were far more puppets than humans, leading me to conclude that this commodity was mass-produced and relatively cheap. The Craftsmen’s Guild had clearly put its production into full swing.
Interesting. I pulled out the ring that Grace had given me, then cut my finger with a knife and activated the storage. It was quite different from mine—it was divided into a dozen sections, each labeled: “provisions,” “literature,” “weapons,” and so on. Was this some kind of improvement, or was the class of this storage simply higher than mine?
In front of the sections, floating in the air, was an envelope labeled simply: “Aney.” I took the letter out of the storage and opened it.
My young friend, if you are reading this letter, then I am already gone. Sorry it turned out this way, but it was the only way to keep my daughter safe from the old bastards in the Adventurers’ Guild of the Kingdom of Lygote. So I did what I had to, and under no circumstances should you blame yourself for my death. I am very glad to have met you at the end of my journey. Whatever it was, I regret nothing. Well, maybe just a little—that you didn’t gut that bastard prince, but I know he’ll get what’s coming to him. Thank you for everything, and I hope my gift will be of use to you.
One last small request. If your path ever takes you to the Kingdom of Lygote, please find Captain Brent of the Adventurers’ Guild and let him know that his daughter is in the principality.
Thank you again for everything, Grace.
Ah, Grace, Grace… I carefully folded the letter and placed it back into storage. Most of the sections were empty. Only “weapons,” “literature,” and “old junk” remained filled.
I was most interested in the literature, so I pulled out two dozen thick folios, their covers made of thick brown leather from some beast. The folios were handwritten, with numerous engravings of monsters. I selected nine books, each dedicated to a different class of monsters, and stored the rest away.
Getting comfortable, I took the folio on first-class monsters and delved into it.
What magnificent work! Everything was detailed—habitats, seasonal behavioral traits, full anatomical structure, strengths and weaknesses. Dozens of monsters described down to the smallest detail.
Flipping through the pages, I searched for the author of this vast work, but, unfortunately, found no mention of a name. Nothing in the other eight volumes either. Strange. Such meticulous research… Determining the books’ age was impossible as well—they could have been a few years old or several centuries, assuming they were stored in vaults where time’s effects were nullified.
Having found nothing, I returned to studying the first volume. Time passed slowly as I absorbed book after book. When I was nearing the end of the fourth volume, an outpost appeared on the horizon. I jumped off the wagon and walked alongside it to stretch my legs.
— Take us straight to the inn, — I told the driver as I climbed back inside.
— As you wish, sir.
After a brief checkpoint inspection at the gates, we stopped a few minutes later. I jumped to the ground, approached the driver, and pressed a gold coin into his hand.
— Thank you for the journey.
— B-but sir, everything has already been paid for, I can’t…
— Keep it, you’ve earned it, — I interrupted him.
— Many thanks, sir! Safe travels to you!
The driver flicked the reins, and the lizards pulled the wagon away while I entered the inn. Inside, it was crowded and noisy.
— A room for one. Five days.
The man behind the counter finally paid attention to me.
— With meals or without? With meals, five bronze. Without, three bronze and five copper.
I handed him a silver coin.
— With meals. Use the change to ensure the room is clean and comfortable.
His face lit up with satisfaction.
— Of course, sir! Right away! Please, take a seat at the table, enjoy a meal, and in the meantime, we will prepare the finest room for you!
He led me to an empty table and called out to a waitress with a menu.
— Help the gentleman with his meal! — he shouted before hurrying off somewhere.
The dish names in the menu meant nothing to me, so I simply ordered something meaty, a green salad, and a jug of light alcohol. Promising it would be ready soon, the waitress ran to the kitchen.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Pulling out a folio here would be inconvenient, so I decided to check the “weapons” section in storage.
A dozen fine bows, several thousand arrows with various tips, a few daggers and knives… Not the most diverse collection. Though the quality was high. I moved on to the “old junk” section.
It truly was filled with junk—belts, old pots, armor fragments, broken weapons, and a small storage pouch. It seemed Grace had been too lazy to sort it out and had simply thrown in everything she found too valuable to discard.
I pulled out the storage pouch and peeked inside. A few silver coins, a massive monster fang, a sphere resembling an eye, and a book with a stylus tucked between its pages. Taking out the book, I placed the pouch back into “old junk.”
It was a journal. Grace’s journal.
I hesitated. Had she really forgotten such a personal item in an old bag, or had she deliberately left it there for me to find? Both options were equally plausible.
The waitress brought the food, so I set the journal aside for later.
— Quite a crowd today, — I said, handing her a bronze coin.
The waitress glanced around and sat at the edge of the chair opposite me.
— Oh, sir, so many merchants are stuck here, all waiting for the Adventurers’ Guild to clear the forest so they can pass to Lygote. But you know, people say those adventurers have been dead for a long time, and the outpost chief is just hiding the truth!
An idea formed in my mind.
— You mean the forty adventurers of the first and second classes who entered the forest two weeks ago? — I asked just to be sure.
— Yes, sir, those exactly! How do you know?
— The rumors are true. Those adventurers have been dead for a while now. In fact, I’d say the outpost chief is directly responsible for their deaths.
— Mother of mine! — The waitress clapped her hands loudly. — Sir, is this really true?
— Absolutely. In the capital, the guild master of the adventurers was even executed over it. And soon, they’ll come for the outpost chief as well, I’m sure of it.
The waitress jumped to her feet, a spark of excitement in her eyes.
— And it’s no secret, — I added, giving her confidence in her upcoming task.
There it was—the full power of a long-winded woman’s gossip. By evening, at the latest by morning, the outpost chief would come running to me himself…
There it was—the full power of a long-winded woman’s gossip in all its glory. By this evening, or at the latest by tomorrow morning, the outpost chief would come running to me himself.
Munching on the delicious stewed ribs, I watched as my little magpie spread the news to nearly every table in the hall, causing the buzz of conversation to rise. The most hotheaded patrons were even proposing to march to the barracks and demand an explanation from the chief.
— Don’t disappoint me! — I said to myself and headed upstairs to my room.
It was indeed cozy. They had even placed a potted flower on the table. I pulled out the fifth volume of the monster encyclopedia and began studying. Occasionally, I would test myself—recalling a monster from the previous volumes and reciting aloud everything I remembered about it.
The day passed this way. Then the evening. Then the night.
In the morning, I felt a dozen first- and second-class masters approaching the inn. Finally, the bird had stuck its head into the snare of its own accord.
That fat bastard wasn’t the main culprit, but everything had started with his lies. And I wasn’t about to let that slide.
As an argument broke out on the first floor, I opened the door and walked toward the stairs. On the way, a frightened maid met me.
— Sir, sir, the chief… he’s…
— Calm down, everything’s fine.
— … Where is that bastard?! Bring him here immediately! I am a relative of the prince himself! Who dares to come for me?! — The outpost chief stood with his back to me, roaring at the people in the hall.
— I dare! — I said loudly, drowning out his shout.
— Whooooooo?! — he bellowed, spinning around.
But the moment he saw me, his bravado vanished.
— You! Why are you still alive?! You were supposed to be executed! How are you here?!
The chief, completely bewildered, glanced around in desperation, as if searching for support. But, finding nothing better to do, he shrieked at his soldiers:
— Kill him! Execute him immediately! Right here, on the spot!
The soldiers, equally confused, began drawing their swords. I crushed them with my aura, forcing them to their knees and down onto all fours.
— A… A Battle Master! — The murmur spread through the hall.
— Well then, you fat bastard, because of you, more than forty adventurers died. Because of your false report to the prince, my dear friend is dead. Tell me, you scum, why do you think I’m here?
He understood. I saw it in his eyes.
— You can’t kill me! I’m a relative of the prince! — The chief’s screech grated on the ears. — I am untouchable in this principality!
— Is that so? — I laughed, stepping closer to him.
Watch closely, Grace, wherever you are now. This may not be the prince, but in my eyes, this fat bastard’s guilt is no less.
I grabbed the chief by the throat with my right hand and lifted him off the ground. My fingers weren’t long enough to grip his thick neck fully, so I had to compensate with aura.
— Why the hell does every arrogant bastard think I won’t dare to kill him?
I tightened my grip slightly, making blood stream from the chief’s eyes, nose, and ears.
— How about now, bastard? Still think I won’t kill you?
He wheezed and thrashed, trying desperately to pry my fingers from his throat.
— You’re looking a bit uncertain there, chief! Not enjoying dying in agony? — I taunted.
Watching as the realization of his imminent death dawned on him, I clenched my fingers into a fist. His head tore free from his shoulders and soared upward, nearly reaching the ceiling.
— Bring me a sheet of paper! — I ordered the stunned crowd once the chief’s corpse had stopped spilling blood from its crushed throat.
His soldiers stood frozen, not daring to move, though I had long since lifted my aura’s pressure from them. Someone handed me paper.
Dipping my finger into the still-warm blood, I wrote in large letters:
“To the Prince!
I have punished the traitor who deceived you.
Aney.”
Then, I placed the severed head on the fat corpse’s belly, set the note on top of it, and pinned everything together with an arrow from Grace’s storage.
— A gold coin to whoever delivers this filth to the prince’s court without disturbing the arrangement!
I placed a gold coin on the body. Then, pulling out a silver one, I handed it to the maid.
— Clean this up later. Apologies for the slight mess.
Washing my hands in a deep basin the maid brought, I turned to the crowd.
— Ladies and gentlemen, I know why you’re here. I have come to the outpost to clear the Misty Forest of monsters. I need a month to do it. After that, you may travel the road safely. If that wait is too long for you, you can take the longer detour and leave immediately. That is all. Thank you for your attention.
I turned and headed upstairs to the sound of approving murmurs and scattered applause.
The next four days, I devoted myself to studying the monster encyclopedia in even greater detail. Then, I set off for the forest.
No one saw me off this time.
With surprise, I felt a rush of joy upon seeing the trees flickering with multicolored sparks in the mist.
— Let the slaughter begin! — I said, stepping into the forest.