Clear up today’s dead,

  Prepare the field for the morrow.

  Family never knew thy name,

  Bonds have been broken.

  Sleep lightly, o, rightful heir,

  For choice is drowned in sorrow.

  Run away, o, noble child,

  From your father, from your mother,

  From your sister, from your brother,

  From uncles, aunts, and cousins,

  From your Death and from your Madness.

  Run to the fields of Green,

  Run away from the Darkness,

  Where Velvet lies upon the trees,

  And powers harness.

  But if fight, we fight; if run, we run.

  Tomorrow we fight, today we die, and long we yet may live.

  For what is left of our souls,

  If all we do is breathe?

  [Directive ‘Escort your guests back to the Ashtara Kingdom’ Followed - Registered.]

  [Reign Index Increased: 0.28% → 0.30%]

  [Current Directive: Detect the Cause of the Fracture.]

  [Current Optional Directive: Take all the Beastfolk to Safety.]

  [New Directive: Stop the Plot to Assassinate Stevin.]

  That was what Ephe had told me the second we stopped in front of the estate of House Barta after a few more days of walking through nothingness.

  But it had become clear since last night that we were drawing closer. People recognized Stevin wherever we went, in fields, towns, and villages. They either bowed or stepped aside, avoiding all our gazes.

  “You seem as loved as a sickness,” Enna pointed out randomly right before we reached the estate grounds, as she saw one random villager spit on the ground at the sight of him.

  And despite only chuckling lightly, trying to maintain his composure, Stevin began slowly fumbling his act. He was obviously stressed, and he seemed to only partially open up to Arther and me.

  But even then, he only said the surface-level stuff that wouldn’t change the situation he was in when the gates of the estate opened, revealing people as they started pouring out from the mansion in the distance.

  “Look who is here,” said a middle-aged man, his dark brown eyes sharp beneath a receding black hairline.

  He looked like an inbred ogre, fitting for the type of man he was, even if Stevin didn’t confirm my suspicions. This was the bastard who had thrown Christof off the cliff into the canyon days ago. Stevin’s uncle.

  Walking past him were three others: an older man, a teary-eyed woman, and a young lady, all sharing the same concerned expression in their brown eyes. Likely, Stevin’s parents and older sister, whom he spoke so much about.

  Stevin bowed deeply to the whole lot of them, voice trembling up until he started speaking.

  “F-Forgive me for worrying you, my Lords and Ladies.”

  “That you did,” said the concerned man, stepping away from the family toward us. “Where have you been?”

  “Away from everything, Father. I needed to gather my thoughts,” Stevin replied, still bowing.

  Quiet laughter bubbled near the mansion’s entrance, smirks lighting up stupid faces, but the man before us, walking down the hill, watched his son with sadness. His gaze flicked briefly toward me and then to Enna before he spoke.

  “Lady Enna, who are these people?” he asked, recognizing one of the adventurers he had sent after Stevin.

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

  Enna straightened, cleared her throat, and gestured toward us. “My companions passed during our quest. But in the process, I met Airina and His Gr-...Elio. My Lord. They are adventurers. As for the rest, they are lost adventurers we rescued from the Great Velvet Forests.”

  “Adventurers with children?” he frowned, tilting his head toward Arthur, the little dog-boy. “Forgive me for finding that hard to believe.”

  “We have been lost for years, surviving off the land,” Arther, the lion man, said, stepping protectively in front of Arthur and Melsa.

  The man muttered something under his breath, then turned back to his son, now face-to-face with Stevin’s bowing posture. “Straighten yourself.”

  Stevin obeyed immediately, raising his head to meet his father’s gaze despite the trembling in his hands. He barely had time to react before the slap landed, hard enough to send him crashing to the ground.

  “Get up,” his father commanded.

  Stevin rose slowly, still refusing to look back at any of us, only to be knocked down again when the second slap came.

  By the time his father barked the order a third time, I moved without thinking.

  “Enough,” I said calmly. “No more.”

  The man blinked, startled by the challenge. “And who are you to tell me how I educate my own son?”

  “The man who brought him back alive to you,” I replied, eyes steady despite the panic boiling in my gut at what the hell I was doing. “Do not strike him again.”

  He didn’t speak. He didn’t stop me either when I knelt and offered Stevin my hand.

  “Thank you,” Stevin whispered as I pulled him to his feet. He cleared his throat, his cheek burning crimson as he faced his father again. “I know I did wrong, My Lord. Please, forgive me.”

  I was panicking and fuming at the same time. The introvert in me was screaming to shut the hell up, to let the brat who’d spread propaganda about me get a divine beating ripped straight from the Heavens. But the anger wouldn’t let go. How could it?

  He was just a kid, doing what he thought was right for his family, refusing to spill his own kin’s blood for some stupid noble struggle over the illusion of supremacy. He was more of a man than any of the bastards watching from the stairs. More human than the whole damned lot.

  So, of course, I stepped in. Of course, I stopped it. No father had the right to strike his son when the boy had done no wrong.

  The man blinked a few times, locked in his son’s eyes, until he noticed his wife and daughter approaching. Only then did he remember he had a tongue and an audience.

  An audience to which he turned, “So be it. You are our guests now. Do enjoy our hospitality while we contact the Adventurer’s Guild.”

  Of course, the Adventure Guild.

  …

  Fuck me blindfolded. I knew these bastards would be thoroughly annoying, somehow managing to stick wrenches into our plans. But so be it. Better to deal with humans than godlike beings and mythological creatures… I hope.

  We moved from the estate entrance, allowing Stevin, his mother, and his sister to greet each other properly while the rest of us entered the mansion after the scheming fools, only to be led down a hall toward a dining room.

  After an hour of waiting, each lost in their own thoughts, someone finally broke the silence.

  “So, Enna,” Airina said, surprisingly annoyed as we were sitting down at the table, “This is what you wanted from the moment I met you. Does it feel good to see the poor boy like this?”

  “Fair question,” I nodded, looking into Enna’s orange eyes.

  “Your Grace…” Enna muttered, lowering her gaze. “The brat had it coming, regardless of how I, or any of us, feel about it.”

  “A Priestess through and through,” Airina chuckled, disbelief in her voice. “But at least you get to keep your livelihood going. Good for you.”

  “Whatever you say,” Enna shook her head, unwilling to start anything here. “I will not listen to an elf on matters not concerning you.”

  “Calm down,” Arther tried to intervene, while Melsa, her son, and Silvien watched the argument slowly heat up again.

  I took that as my cue to turn inward, retreating into my silent thoughts, and hopefully, helpful Schizophrenia.

  ‘Ephe, can you tell me who’s the biggest danger to Stevin’s safety?’ I asked inside my head.

  [Everyone.]

  [And himself.]

  Brilliantly phrased. Surprisingly philosophical. But absolutely useless. Why didn’t I think of that? “Everyone and himself”… absolute garbage. Thanks for nothing, sassy voice.

  ‘I see… next time, remind me to ask a blind man what color I should paint my hair, okay?’

  [Certainly.]

  ‘I was sarcastic, you glorified mental issue.’

  […]

  ‘I am sorry. I am not quite the same today.’

  [Clearly.]

  [Mental State: Deteriorating.]

  [Annoying: 24%]

  ‘Touché.’

  It was tempting to set out a new goal, see what happens when I reach the hundredth percentile, but I didn’t get the chance as the door of the dining hall we were in opened, revealing Stevin, his parents, sister, and several other people, more than likely from the Adventurer’s guild.

  It would have been wise to, instead of arguing or brooding like dumbasses, rethink our plans properly. But since we had made a decent plan, we also prepared for such a situation, although it wasn’t favorable at all.

  Still, we got to our feet, hopeful that we would be able to hold a decent conversation with these people and that we would be able to somehow help Stevin.

  But before we could do any of that, the middle-aged woman I suspected was Stevin’s mother approached me despite the frown coming from her husband.

  “Sir Elio, correct?” she asked, a pleasant smile now that her son was back to her.

  “Yes, ma’am, uh, My Lady,” I nodded, forgetting what world I was in.

  “Thank you for your earlier action and caring for my son all this time. He had told us how good you have been to him,” she curtsied gently toward me before waving to a maid to approach, “Please, accept this token of my appreciation as a mother. May it bring you as much joy as you have brought me.”

  In the maid’s hand stood a small wooden box with fancy silver decorations around it.

  “You didn’t have to,” I muttered, still leaning to grab the box and open it.

  But right before I could, the woman placed her hand, closing it shut, her eyes telling me not to do it here and now.

  A signal that I received loud and clear, hiding my understanding with a small bow, “Thank you, My Lady.”

  “Good,” she smiled before turning back and joining Stevin, her husband, and the rest of the lot at the table before us.

  Placing the box down near my chair, I sat down with the rest of them, staring at Stevin, seeing his red cheek from before now purple, just like the eye above it.

  The bastard has not listened to my words. What a father…

  Yet, when I felt my blood boiling, I saw Stevin shake his head toward me, telling me not to act.

  So with a sigh, I let go of my anger and turned toward the man in front of me, on the opposite side of the long table.

  “Now that we are all here,” he said, his voice steady, “Let us properly make some introductions before anything else.”

  Patreon where you can read the entirety of Volume One and the beginning of Volume Two ahead of Schedule!