Chapter 25 — Temporary Party

Chapter 25 — Temporary Party

A bloody man was lying in front of me.

No… that can’t be. I… I killed someone.

I always knew that in this world, sooner or later, I’d have to fight not just monsters. This isn’t Earth. Although even there, safety was… relative.
But now… now it’s too soon. Maybe he’s still alive?

I crouched down and carefully rolled his body over. Hopefully, he wasn’t a corpse.
I pressed my fingers to his neck—there was a pulse. Weak, but still there.

Good. I can still save him.

I quickly created several Health Potions, one after another, and poured them directly onto the wound in his chest. The glow from the potions gently lit up his skin; the gash slowly began to close. After the seventh potion, the bleeding stopped, and the deep cut had completely healed.

Only the bloodstain and the torn clothing were left as proof anything had happened here at all.

I checked his pulse again—yeah, his heart was beating. He was alive.

I needed to leave. Fast. Before he woke up.

I didn’t think he’d be able to do anything to me directly, but… if he had friends in the city guard, or worse, relatives among the officials—then the trouble would be endless.

No, I don’t need that.

I stood up, glanced around, and quickly headed back toward the main street.

The most important thing was to put as much distance between me and this place as possible.

I couldn’t go back to that tavern or up to the room I’d rented.

Yeah, going back there would be a terrible idea.

I walked along the street for about ten minutes. There were fewer and fewer people around, and the taverns gradually thinned out as well. Fine, I’d just find another one.

In front of me stood a two-story building: tavern on the ground floor, and, most likely, rooms for guests above. If not, I’d just keep looking.

I went in.

It was much quieter here than in the previous tavern: only nine or ten people inside, and no one was making much noise.

I walked up to the counter.

“Excuse me, do you have rooms for the night?” I asked.

“Sure do. One silver coin per night,” the barkeep replied.

I took out a coin and handed it to him.

“Second floor, first room on the right,” he said, passing me a key.

I went upstairs, found the right door, and turned the key in the lock. The mechanism clicked.

I stepped inside, immediately locked the door from the inside, and sat down on the bed.

I needed to calm down.

My heart was still pounding like I’d just been sprinting.

Damn… this day had been way too long.

Yeah, I really needed to settle myself a bit.

Training in the Training Room sounded like a good idea.

I activated my Training Room skill and, a moment later, appeared inside.

The same simple stone room, nothing extra. Just as always.

“Okay… this should calm me down,” I said, taking a deep breath.

--

Morning. It was already morning.

So… what should I do today?

I could stay in the Training Room and keep working on quests, but… that was starting to get a little boring.

I decided I’d alternate—one day inside, one day out here, in the real world.

All right then. Today I’d go to a dungeon.

Rem had told me there were several dungeons near this city. I figured I’d start with the weakest one.

I went downstairs. They were serving breakfast—pretty decent, especially for the price. Only 40 copper coins.

No, I couldn’t really call it tasty, but it was still quite pleasant to eat.

After breakfast, I headed toward the Adventurer’s Guild.

On the way, as I moved through the crowded streets, my eyes involuntarily slid toward that tavern—and the alley beside it. Yesterday’s scene flashed in my mind all at once.

Damn.

Had I done the right thing?
Should I have just let that guy die?
Did I make things worse by saving him?

I was the one who hurt him—even if he started it. I’d only defended myself.

Maybe I should’ve just run away. Like I usually do whenever danger appears. The moment we stepped outside, I could’ve just bolted.

No. I can’t keep thinking like a coward.

Enough of being afraid.

Although… if I ever found myself in a truly hopeless situation, running away would be the logical choice. But choosing the coward’s path every single time—that’s not a solution either.

I needed to change how I thought.

If a problem appears—deal with it.

And still… if I can’t deal with it—yes, running away is also an option.

When I reached the Adventurer’s Guild, it was just as crowded as yesterday. I really missed the village guild, where there were almost never any lines.

Maybe it got less busy here during the day, but right now it was morning—the rush hour, when everyone came for quests.

I went inside and picked a line at random.

About twenty minutes later, my turn arrived.

“How can I help you?” the receptionist asked with a smile.

…Oh. It was the same girl who’d taken me upstairs yesterday to get my new adventurer badge.

Well, there was no way she remembered me.

“Excuse me, I’d like to go to a dungeon, but I don’t know where it is,” I said.

“All right,” she said. “Which dungeon did you want to go to?”

“The lowest-ranked one,” I answered.

“The lowest available right now is Rank 3,” she said. “Although… if you’d like, a new dungeon was recently discovered nearby. It’s currently estimated as Rank 2. You could try that one.”

Ah. That was probably the very same dungeon I’d already been to.

No thanks. I really didn’t feel like going back there.

“Could you give me a map or something like that? So I can find my way to the Rank 3 dungeon?” I asked.

“Yes, we have a map, if you’d like,” the girl said. “But it isn’t free.”

“How much is it?” I asked.

“Ten copper coins,” she replied.

“All right, I’ll buy one.”

She bent down, pulled out a rolled-up sheet of paper from under the counter, and handed it to me.

“That’ll be ten copper coins,” she said.

I quickly counted out the coins and gave them to her. In return I received the map.

It was simple, but clear enough. I was pretty sure I could figure it out.

I carefully rolled the map back up and headed for the Guild exit.

As I walked away from the building in the direction of the city gate, I suddenly heard someone call out from behind me:

“Hey, you!”

I stopped and turned around.

At first, I wasn’t sure if they were talking to me, but when the voice repeated and footsteps came closer, it became obvious they were.

A guy around twenty-five—about my age—ran up to me. He was a little out of breath, but straightened up quickly and smiled.

“Hey! I heard you’re heading to the Rank 3 dungeon?” he said.

“Yeah…” I replied cautiously. “Why?”

“Well, me and my friends are headed there too. Wanna join us?”

“Uh…” I frowned. “Sorry, but why do you want me in your party?”

“I get that it sounds a bit suspicious,” he said, still smiling. “We usually have a four-man team: two swordsmen, one archer, and one mage.”

“One of our swordsmen can’t make it today,” he continued. “Yesterday he drank way too much, and now he’s… let’s just say he’s in no condition to fight. So we’re short one swordsman.”

He quickly looked me over from head to toe and added with a grin:

“Judging by your sword and the fact you already made it to E-rank, I’m guessing you’re pretty decent. You are a swordsman, right? I’m not wrong?”

“Yeah, swordsman,” I answered.

Although… could I really call myself a swordsman?

I had cleared a dungeon using a sword, sure. And I did have the Swordsman — Rank 1 skill.

So, I guess that meant yes—a swordsman.

“So, what do you say?” he asked, scratching his head. “We split the loot evenly: one-fourth each, same as the rest of the party.”

I thought about it.

Should I really join them?

On one hand, I knew absolutely nothing about this dungeon. On the other hand, going alone would be pretty risky.

Yeah… joining them was probably the better option. A party is safer.

“All right, fine. I’ll go with you,” I said.

“Great!” he broke into a wide smile.

“By the way, my name’s Damon,” he said.

“I’m Alisar,” I replied.

“My friends should be here in a bit,” he added.

Sure enough, two more guys showed up a couple of minutes later.

“All right, guys, meet our temporary party member. He’ll be filling in for Brann today,” Damon said. “His name is Alisar.”

“Alisar, this is our archer—he’s a pretty good shot. His name’s Roder.”

“And this is Soren, our other swordsman.”

“Well, and I’m the mage,” Damon added. “But you already know that.”

Damon was a mage, huh? I was curious what kind of magic he used.

Talking among ourselves, we left the city and headed toward the dungeon.

Looked like I’d bought that map for nothing.

Even if it had cost only ten copper coins… still.

Most of the time they were talking to each other. For me, it was interesting just listening—their conversations, their jokes, their casual banter. Sometimes they’d throw a question my way and I’d answer, but overall I barely joined in.

--

POV: Brann

Brann watched as three members of his group and one new guy left the city.

He followed them at a distance, careful not to draw attention to himself.
That was part of his plan.

Just yesterday, he’d lost a large amount of money gambling.

And later, closer to nightfall, he’d decided it was time to win it back—maybe even come out ahead.

In the evening, he’d noticed a young guy in the tavern and, catching sight of the coin pouch at his belt, figured there was a decent amount of silver in there.
Better that money end up in his hands than in this kid’s, he’d thought.

So he decided to scare him a bit—and take it all.

That had gone smoothly: he’d “accidentally” spilled his beer on him and immediately demanded compensation. The kid was willing to pay; judging by the weight and sound of the pouch, there’d been not only silver but even a few gold coins inside—what a stroke of luck, Brann had thought. He’d also taken a liking to the kid’s sword. A weapon that good could fetch a nice price.

Outside, he’d demanded both the money and the sword, and when the boy refused to give up the blade, Brann had lost his temper.
He decided to teach him a good, hard lesson.

Originally, he’d only planned to cut off one of his arms—maybe both. Or a leg. That sounded like a fair way to make the brat pay.

The kid was an adventurer, after all, and adventurers always risked their lives.
If he ended up crippled… well, at least he’d still be alive. In a way, that was lucky.

He could spend the rest of his days somewhere as a cripple, even a beggar.
And if he died… well, that wouldn’t be Brann’s problem.

At the moment he’d rushed the boy with a threat, Brann really had intended only to punish him—to lop off an arm for daring to talk back.

But the kid had been faster.

And his sword had been far better.

With a single strike, the boy had sliced straight through Brann’s blade—and ripped open his chest.

“Damn… I really thought I was going to die back then,” Brann muttered at the memory.

When he came to, the wound on his chest was gone.

But the pool of blood and the shredded clothing made it very clear it hadn’t been a dream.

And he couldn’t even blame it on being drunk. He’d had almost nothing to drink that day—just one mug of cheap beer, and the second one he’d spilled on that boy.

When he got back to the inn, his brother and the others just laughed at him.

Apparently, when he’d decided he was dying, he’d even managed to soil his pants—and now they wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.

He’d been furious, ready to storm back out and find that kid, even if it meant searching all night.

But his brother had suggested another plan—wait.

Wait until morning and spot him at the Adventurer’s Guild.

If he didn’t show up today, they’d wait tomorrow, or the next day.

His brother had flatly refused to do anything inside the city itself. They were new here, and rumor had it the city guard was much harder to bribe, and the law was stricter.

Trying anything illegal within city limits was too risky.
Better to wait a few hours and act when they had a sure shot.

In the morning, the brothers took up a position by the Guild entrance and watched.

As soon as the kid appeared—as if nothing had happened—Brann’s heart clenched with rage. Everything was ready: just a few hours of patience, and he’d have his revenge.

To him, it seemed like justice.

Tear the kid apart—first the arms, then the legs—for daring to humiliate him.

He pictured it in detail, imagined the whole scene.

And now, watching four adventurers heading off in the direction of the Rank 3 dungeon, Brann smirked.

Soon, his plan would become reality.