I stayed in my room for exactly seven days. Vivia brought me some food every now and then. This felt like I was back to those shit days. Those horrible days… No one had come to see me during this time. I suppose, no one wanted to see my face.
On day eight, something clicked and I strode out.
"We're leaving," I said.
Vivia was waiting outside. How long had she been there? I wasn't sure. And I didn't want to find out either.
We packed our stuff, and I put on a robe on top of my shabby armor since it was kind of busted now. Once done, we left. We paid the inn master some extra for everything and although some staff appeared sad the rest were mostly just relieved.
No one looked at me with scorn. Not inside the inn, and certainly not outside either. People had too much shit to deal with. Even if they hated my guts, they couldn't do anything about me, they couldn't do anything at all.
