Heavy footsteps from the upper floor startled the Inn's dining customers.
A tall, gaunt man covered in small wounds appeared from the top of the stairs and hurriedly ran out, leaving a bloody trail in his wake.
The Customers murmured as their eyes followed the man.
'what happened upstairs?' they whispered amongst themselves.
'My friend said he heard someone whistling creepily.'
'Really? Me too! When I asked who was there, it answered 'no one'!'
'Aha! So that's why you came down here! You were spooked out of yer wits!'
'No! I was just really hungry!'
'Haha! Look at 'im bein' all defensive!'
'But what do ya think that was?'
'I dunno but it was probably a mischievous child playin' tricks on people.'
The customers continued to speculate but none of them could come up with a plausible answer.
Only Deon knew the truth… and he was NOT happy about it.
'He said he won't do anything bad! How could he hurt innocent people?!'
Then innkeeper approached Deon.
"Sir Knight, due to some unexpected circumstances a room is now available. Would you like to take it?" the woman asked. She was visibly flustered but she kept her business smile on as she offered Deon the newly vacated room.
"Is that so? Then I will gladly take it." Deon answered.
As the Innkeeper guided him to his room, they intersected with her husband who carried out a dustpan full of broken bottles and a rolled-up bedsheet sprinkled with blood.
'Uwaah… he really didn't pull any stops huh?' Deon's irritation peaked as he gazed at the bloody sheets.
"This is the room, Sir Knight. Please rest comfortably." The woman bowed and turned away, leaving Deon in a candlelit room.
Bam!
Deon slammed the door shut.
"Sir Mikael! you said you won't hurt people! How could you attack an innocent person just for a room?!" Deon went ballistic as he confronted Mikael.
Mikael, on the other hand, followed the wobbling criminal with his eyes. He gazed down the second-floor window with his arms crossed.
"I said I won't do anything bad. I never said I wouldn't hurt people so technically, I kept my promise." Mikael replied, still not looking at Deon.
"Oh, Don't be smart with me, sir! How are they any different?" Deon waved his arms in frustration.
Instead of answering, Mikael asked the system, "Since we share the system can we share screens?"
"Yes," Mikael answered. He was also in a bad mood and he had no energy left to argue with his partner. He figured that showing was better than telling.
Suddenly, a series of notifications appeared in front of Deon.
Soul 'Alisha' is grateful for your help in punishing her father. Thus, she started to spread your name in the underworld. As the Apostle of Justice, she believes that you can help more spirits rest in peace. Hence the system has opened a 'Request Board' where you will receive requests from the dead in exchange for their Karma points.
As your reputation spreads, you will get more requests.>
"Wha-What is this?" Deon looked up from the shining blue panel, "We're taking requests from the dead?"
"Yeah…" Mikael sighed,
"AAAAHHH! Why did she have to run her mouth?! If she was grateful then she should've just given me more good Karma! Doesn't she know that I'm an escapee?! If God Hades gets wind of my existence, they'll surely drag me back to hell!" Mikael's sudden outburst startled Deon.
However, he remained silent as he did not want to cross his partner who was obviously upset despite obtaining a cool title.
'So, the man who ran out was a bad man…huh…' he inferred.
Deon quietly sat on the bed. Before he knew it, his body that was heavy with exhaustion, slumped on the soft mattress and he fell soundly asleep.
The depressed Mikael watched his partner with slight disappointment. Subconsciously, he was expecting Deon to offer him words of comfort, if not encouragement.
Then he realized that he had become foolish ever since coming into this world. On Earth, where he was alone, he carried all his burdens without complaint. But now, he whined like a child in front of a 15-year-old boy who knew nothing of hardships.
'I have to get myself together.' Mikael slapped his cheeks with both palms, 'I just need to accumulate enough good Karma before I get caught…And to do that, I must work on turning Deon into the greatest hero!'
The morning came and, far from feeling refreshed, Deon groaned from his sore muscles.
"Ughhh…" the poor prince wriggled beneath his blanket. With his head poking out of the sheets, he drowsily blinked at the clock on the far wall.
It was 7 am—just one more hour before he's sent to a lawless zone like a pig for slaughter.
Deon forced himself out of the bed and donned his armor set and weapon.
At the first-floor counter, Deon produced a heavy bag of gold from his space ring.
"Kid, pay them a hundred gold for all the commotion last night," Mikael instructed from inside the Medium.
"I know. I was going to pay that much even if you didn't tell me, sir." Deon replied through direct messaging.
He gave the heap of gold coins to the Innkeeper who gasped in surprise, "Sir Knight! This is too much!"
"No. the steak I had last night was definitely worth this much. Also, If not for the room you offered, I would have slept outside so please accept it,"
Deon worded it nicely but in truth, he really was just feeling guilty of causing them trouble.
The innkeeper hesitantly accepted the payment.
Unbeknownst to them, three men eyed Deon's bag of gold from a nearby table. They were the mercenaries who surrounded Deon during yesterday's march!
Their eyes glinted in greed as they watched Deon exit the Inn like he was a gold-laying goose.
'We've hit the jackpot, my friends.' The largest man whispered, flashing a toothy grin to his comrades.
They tailed Deon.
At exactly 8 o'clock, the march resumed. Though with noticeably lesser participants.
Those who joined for the first time either had not made it on time or had dropped out of the game for various reasons.
Indeed, the 'March' had successfully weeded out the weak before they threw their lives away in the main game.
With only two hundred and fifty or so participants left in the competition, the organizers and royal knights led the parade through another day of the tiring march.
The evening sun colored the mountain red—a prelude to the coming bloodshed.
Finally, they had arrived at the base of the Wesnar Mountain range.
--Chapter end--