A Sinner's Advice

The rescue operation was a success, but a new battle was happening.

It was a fight between my broken arm and resisting the urge to cry. The adrenaline has worn off and I was left with the dull, gnawing pain pulsing from my right forearm to the rest of my body.

Even with one of the pilgrims we saved splinting and stabilising my arm, it didn’t feel like it helped. According to her, the mage adventurer back at camp knew healing magic and should be able to deal with my condition. The question was—how do I explain a Dragon-ranked adventurer needing to be healed after dealing with simple bandits?

While I’d love to look for the answer, the needles shooting up into my brain blocked my path. I had a hole in my chest before, but I’d much prefer passing out than having to face this torture.

As the swelling made my arm feel heavier, my head felt lighter. Still, the pain moved in and out of my head like the oscillating waves of the sea by the beach, jolting me to attention and preventing me from fainting.

I sat on the throne made of stone in the centre of the cave. Both my butt and my back were freezing—I guessed Rolf found it comfortable thanks to his fat ass providing the insulation.

Personally, I’d prefer to sit on the ground, but I was forced to sit here as the armrest provided support for my arm. Making things even more awkward were the pilgrims running around, gathering loot and restraining the bandits.

Anita stood by the entrance of the room, giving directions and keeping track of what was going on. She was both reliable and organised, making me wonder if she was once the head maid of Sereya’s household or something. This level of stewardship had to be the result of years of training and experience.

“Mummy, isn’t the man sitting on the throne Lord Evan? Shouldn’t we pray?”

“Silly boy, he’s not Lord Evan. He just used His name to scare the bad guys.”

Who in their right mind would look at me and go, “Yeah, I’m gonna pray to that guy with the broken arm.” Granted, that was just a small child, but still, people were getting more and more gullible these days.

In my pain and discomfort, I could feel the pilgrims stealing glances at me as they worked. Couldn’t they pay their saviour a little bit more respect and treat him like he wasn’t there?

Out of everyone in the room, there is one person who didn’t even try to hide their staring. That person was none other than Rolf, seated on the ground in front of me as he kept his arm as steady as possible.

Without anything else to do, his eyes were glued to me the same way he was ‘glueing’ his severed arm back together. I knew he was told to remain still, but moss would start to grow on him if he was that still.

He never said a single word. His face didn’t have a single expression.

I was starting to get worried if he was even still alive.

“Um—”

My voice was a lot more strained than usual, but I figured having a conversation would distract me from the pain.

“Are you dead?”

“I will be. Once they put me behind bars.”

Oh, so he wasn’t a statue. That said, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were people lining up to shank him in prison. As despicable as he was, I had to give it to him—he was surprisingly relaxed for someone who was well aware of what was going to happen.

“So, how does it feel sitting there? Pretty nice, huh?”

I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Yeah, we can trade seats if you want.”

“Nah, you need that armrest. Besides, if I sat there now, the heat from your ass will give me the piles.”

The what?

I didn’t know what he was getting at, but what I found most surreal was how ‘normal’ this conversation was going. A few minutes ago, he was trying to kill me. Yet, for a giant who’s also the leader of bandits, the way he behaved at the moment didn’t reflect that at all.

“As someone who used to sit there, lemme give you some advice,” he led the conversation with a laidback demeanour, “You’re really good at talking big, but you don’t know how to make important sacrifices.”

Was this thug seriously lecturing me?

“For example, if it was me, I would’ve sacrificed that girl to save all the others. You only got lucky because of Sereya, but if it was another day, you’d have to pick between one or the other.”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me all this, but I disagree. Unlike you, I’m not heartless.”

Rolf sighed, fueling my annoyance even further.

“And that’s why you’ll always stay a weakling. You can only weasel or talk your way out of things so much. There’ll come a time when you have to make an important decision, and you better be ready for the consequence.”

For someone who ended up the way he was, he should’ve listened to his own advice. Rolf should seriously get off his high horse.

While I’d usually just shut up and ignore hypocrites like him, he was doing a good job at getting on my nerves. This worked in my favour as my injury didn’t bother me as much as the crap he was spouting, so I’d humour him.

“Oh? And what makes a prison-bound human trafficker like yourself qualified to preach to all that?”

“Cause I used to be just like you—wanting to do good, wanting to make myself useful. Made some messed up choices and well, the rest is history.”

I resisted the urge to yell for likening him to me. It wouldn’t be good for my arm.

He carried on with his worthless rambling, “You know—if you were actually Evansmith Mattheld, and you asked me to join in your revolution, I’d be with you all the way. Not because I wanted to loot and pillage, but because I genuinely thought that it was a second chance for me to do the right thing.”

“The hell are you on abo—”

“People aren’t just black and white. Everyone, even Heroes can mess up the same way they can do good. Since you’re friends with Sereya, I’m sure you know Remus Whiteaxe, yes?”

I—

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right on that part. Humans were complex. That murdering scumbag that was Remus turned out to be one of the saviours of humanity later on. Was he like an idol to all the bandits and brigands? I hoped not. Just because you did something good, doesn’t mean that it erases the crimes you’ve done.

“So what are you telling me all this for? You’re trying to convince me that you want a second chance so you can turn over a new leaf, is that it?”

“That’s a bit too late for me. From one weakling to another, just don’t fall out of line. You’re lucky you have Sereya with you to set you straight, but she might not be there for you all the time.”

“I appreciate your concern, but you can keep it to yourself.”

Before he could say another line, Rolf’s expression changed from calm to surprise. His pupils dilated as if he had seen something incredible. Little did I know that I’d be sharing the exact same expression a few seconds later.

He lifted his right arm. It was as good as new! What kind of sorcery was this?!

As if it had never been chopped off at all, he really was able to reattach his arm. I couldn’t believe it until he started to rotate his wrist and inspect the movement of his fingers.

Even though he had a fully operational limb again, he had no intention of continuing the fight.

Rolf sat there with a hearty smile, “So that’s why they call her Merciful Blade, eh? She’s a real treasure—take good care of her, you hear? Don’t get locked up behind a cell like me, with my right arm to keep me company. Hahahahaha!”

He got up and looked around. The pilgrims were shocked and visibly tense.

“Well, time to join my boys. Hope I don’t see you around, fake hero.”

Anita pointed him to where the bandits were being held. He willingly walked in that direction, surrendering himself to his fate as a captive.

“You better not let me see you again!”

That was my way of sending him off.

I leaned back on the uncomfortable throne in deep thought. My arm still hurt, but it wasn’t enough to put me off my thinking.

I wasn’t certain if this encounter was a favourable one for me. The criminal’s advice carried both weight and wisdom—the price I had to pay being a broken bone.

Was it worth it? Only time will tell.