Chapter Text
The first swing of my axe split through the zombie like thunder through a storm, the blow leaving nothing but smoke and the faint shimmer of dropped loot. More mobs surged from every direction, their groans echoing through the mist as my twin axes carved through them in perfect rhythm. Each strike landed with the weight of a thousand gold blocks, crushing mob and armor alike. In moments, the ground was littered with shimmering experience orbs and scattered remains; a fleeting reminder of the battle that had been.
But the horde wasn’t slowing. If anything, it was growing. The air was thick with noise: snarls, metal, and the steady thud of my breathing under the strain. I raised an axe for another swing when an arrow whistled past, burying itself straight into the eye socket of a skeleton that had been lining up a shot on me.
I turned, spotting the man who’d hired me: Ganis Tollbrave. A city dweller through and through, dressed too fine for the wilderness. He wasn’t here out of courage. He was here because he had cargo to protect and the emeralds to pay someone like me to do it. Whatever he was carrying didn’t matter to me. The only thing that mattered was finishing the job and getting home to my family, even if I had to fight a thousand mobs to do it.
I kept swinging, each motion automatic now; clean, practiced, and deadly. Arrows flew past me in a steady rhythm as Ganis covered my flank. Slowly, the tide turned. The last mob burst into smoke, leaving the clearing quiet once more.
I exhaled, sliding both axes into my belt. Ganis was breathing hard, sweat beading on his brow as he lowered his bow. He had skill, I’d give him that, but not the kind born from experience. He wasn’t a fighter. Not really.
“Looks like it’s over,” he said between breaths. “Time we continue the journey. Shouldn’t be much longer now.”
I watched him stow his bow back into his inventory before replying, my voice low and even. “Whatever you say. Just remember what you owe me.”
He nodded and climbed back onto his carriage. I mounted my horse, my eyes scanning the treeline as we moved. The road ahead was quiet, but I’d learned the hard way that quiet doesn’t always last. Still, the day seemed to favor us. The sun filtered through the leaves, and soon the forest began to thin.
Ahead stood a small stone house: five blocks high, solid and well-built. A good fortress for a man living on his own. Most folks these days preferred the safety of numbers, but Ganis clearly valued solitude. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him.
I’ve never been fond of working with others myself. Most people are either loud, foolish, or greedy, sometimes all three. I’ve had plenty tell me I should join a guild or clan, but I’ve always turned them down. Working alone means keeping all the loot for myself, and I’m fine with that.
The carriage rolled into a fenced clearing, the blocky wheels grinding to a stop as my horse slowed beside it. Ganis climbed down, heading toward the back where his cargo was stacked. I joined him, towering over him as I always did.
At two and a half blocks tall and broad as a doorframe, I wasn’t exactly easy to ignore. It always looked strange when someone half my size tried giving me orders, but I didn’t mind much. My size and reputation had their perks, especially when it came to landing jobs that paid well enough to keep food on the table for my family.
Ganis adjusted his sleeves and nodded toward the carriage.
“Alright,” he said, “I need you to move these chests inside, down by the basement entrance. You got that?”
I glanced toward the doorway, then back at him.
“Yeah, I got it,” I said, my tone half-hearted but agreeable enough.
One by one, I hauled the chests inside: heavy things filled with who knows what. Ganis stayed outside, eyes scanning the forest line as I worked. The job took time, but eventually, the last chest thudded into place beside the basement door. I let out a long sigh, rolling my shoulders as Ganis stepped inside. His expression brightened as he moved to the stack, running his hands over the lids and checking each one carefully.
The job was done. And as far as I was concerned, so was my part in it. Frustrated by how long Ganis was taking to sift through the chests, I let out a low grunt and spoke in my usual bored drawl.
“So, where’re the emeralds?”
My voice snapped him out of his inspection. “Oh—right! I have them.” He opened his inventory and pulled out several stacks of emeralds, tossing them to the floor in a glittering heap. “This should be it. All one thousand emeralds.”
I crouched down and counted quickly, the familiar green shine reflecting off my armor. Sure enough, exactly one thousand. I half-expected him to shortchange me, but to my surprise, he hadn’t. With a faint smirk, I gathered the emeralds into my pouch and turned back to him.
“Well,” I said, my tone flat but polite enough, “I think it’s time I make my leave. Thanks for the job. Oh, and… have a nice day.”
I gave a small nod and started toward the door.
“Wait!” Ganis called out. “Don’t you want to stay for a moment? You’ve got to be tired after all that traveling.”
He rummaged through one of the nearby chests and pulled out a few bottles filled with dark, bubbling liquid. “Here, take this — on the house. Let’s sit for a bit. We both worked hard today.”
I hesitated, then shrugged. A short break wouldn’t hurt, and my horse could use a rest too. He wasn’t wrong about that, though, between the two of us, only one had done any real fighting today. Ganis’s bow work kept him safe from a distance, while I was knee-deep in the monsters and smoke. Still, I wasn’t going to turn down a drink.
I took one of the bottles, twisted the cork off, and drank. It had a strong, fermented tang that bit the tongue. Ganis, on the other hand, downed his in one go and was already halfway through his second by the time I’d finished my first sip. For someone so lazy, he was quick when it came to these fermented drinks.
The silence that followed was pleasant, calm, peaceful. I liked moments like this, far away from the chaos of city taverns and their endless noise. That’s the thing about the countryside, you can actually think out here.
My family lived in the city, but I never cared for it. Too crowded, too loud, too expensive. My wife always said it was safer within the walls, and maybe she was right. But for me? The open country was real living: small villages, quiet nights, no endless chatter. Before the war, you could build a life out here without walls or fear. Those were better days.
I was lost in thought when Ganis broke the silence, his voice slurred from drink.
“So, Ragor, buddy! You heading back soon?”
I glanced at him. He was swaying in his seat, his eyes struggling to focus.
“Yeah, probably,” I said flatly. “Why do you care?”
He smirked, his head tilting as if his neck could barely hold it up. “Just wondering. I’ve got looots more work if you’re interested. You could even be my personal bodyguard! How’s that sound?”
I grimaced. People loved making that offer once they learned what I did for a living. They saw ‘mercenary’ and thought ‘bodyguard for hire.’ They never understood. I don’t take small-time jobs. I don’t babysit nobles or merchants. I fight for causes that I believe matter… or at least pay like they do.
“Nah,” I said simply. “I’m good.”
He frowned, slumping back in his chair. “You sure? There’s a lot of emeralds in it…”
Running impatiently at this point, I hollered, “I already gave you my answer. It’s not changing.”
Defeated, he sighed and cracked open another bottle. I watched him drown half of it in one pull. It wasn’t good for him, those drinks' effects lasting longer with every swig, but that was his problem, not mine.
He raised his bottle high, grinning. “Alright then! Let’s just drink and relax. To new friends!”
I stared at him for a second, then lifted my own bottle and tapped it against his. “Cheers,” I muttered.
He drained his drink completely, tilting it back until the last drop was gone. I only took a small sip and set mine aside. The last thing I needed was to steer a horse while the world spun.
Ganis leaned back, swaying slightly, his voice now a mix of excitement and intoxication. “Sooo, Ragor! Have you heard about the guest coming to Citytown?”
I raised a brow. Here in Citytown? Hardly anyone important ever comes this far east. “No,” I said. “Who’s coming?”
His eyes lit up as he nearly toppled from his chair. “I heard from a little bird that some of the legendary heroes are coming to the city! The mobs have been attacking Stormgarden Keep, and the knights called for help. The heroes are marching east, and they’re hiring mercenaries and adventurers to join the battle! Can you imagine? Fighting alongside them!”
For a moment, I thought he was joking. But something in his drunken grin told me he wasn’t. The heroes — coming here? That was… unexpected.
And I hated the thought of it. People like Ganis idolized those so-called “heroes,” but I knew better. They weren’t saviors; they were arrogant, self-absorbed fools who thought the world revolved around them. The only reason they held power was because the capital said they did. I’d met them before. I’d fought them before.
I looked back into my memories to just a year or two ago, back to when I traveled to the capital. When the war first started, the Aetherian capital asked the strongest warriors to come down to be tested to become a legendary hero who would carry one of the twelve legendary weapons (It's a lot of legendary things). Normally, I wouldn’t have gone in thinking that it would be a waste of time, but when I looked at my little girl and her amazement at the announcement, it seemed like I couldn’t say no. Something in me told myself to try out, to become the hero my daughter knows I am.
With a surge of confidence, I made my way to the capital on horseback and made my way through the trials, destroying everyone I faced. Then came he. The arrogant noble who told me I was nothing but a brute, no class, no magic, no future. I beat him soundly in combat, but in the end, he was chosen. And I wasn’t.
The reason? “Low magical potential.” That same worthless noble became one of the chosen “heroes,” while I went home empty-handed, unable to even look my daughter in the eye. From that day on, I knew the truth. The so-called legendary heroes weren’t chosen for strength or courage. They were chosen randomly and through their political standings, nothing more. And while that is true, everyone still thinks that they are the strongest.
But now? Now I had a chance to prove them wrong. If the heroes really were heading east to Stormgarden, then I’d be there too, and this time, I’d show them what a real warrior looks like.
I stood, leaving Ganis to his drunken rambling. He barely noticed me go. My mind was already elsewhere, on the battle ahead, on the chance to rewrite what was stolen from me.
Outside, I saddled my horse and fed him a swiftness potion. The forest rose around us once again as my horse and I rode into the deepening dusk. Behind me, Ganis waved lazily, bottle in hand, his voice slurring a farewell.
Ahead, the road stretched toward Citytown, and toward the so-called heroes. Ready to prove myself, I whispered under my breath,
‘I, Ragor Goldenfeather, will show you bastards who the stronger warrior truly is.’”