Shouts in the early morning with a mix of sunshine playing on his face, made Max wake up. He slept like a log, and for a moment he didn't know where he was.
"Oh yeah…" he remembered. "I'm in another world, so it wasn't a dream." He took his stuff and went out.
The innkeeper noticed him as he was going down the stairs.
"Please, take a seat, breakfast is ready."
"Breakfast?" Max asked.
"Yes, you paid for a room and breakfast." the innkeeper responded.
"Thanks, I must've forgotten."
Max took a seat near the door. At the table, the innkeeper put before him some bread and porridge. The bread was freshly baked and served with cheese. The bread had a thick rust and was chewy. Max wasn't a fan.
Porridge, on the other hand, came in a warm bowl made from oats, cooked in milk. Max could taste the honey that was used to sweeten it with bits and pieces of nuts and dried fruits.
Next on the list came the basic breakfast meal, eggs and meat. Eggs were boiled, and small portions of sausages were just enough to tickle Max's imagination. They were seasoned with some unknown herbs and spices. Max loved it.
After finishing that as well, he washed it all down with ale.
"Damn that was tasty, I would rather just go sleep again after eating this much."
But he couldn't, he had a long road ahead. So he thanked the innkeeper and went out.
During the day, the town felt more alive. People were rushing somewhere, everyone had some destination to reach, only Max's was so freaking far away he didn't know if he could walk that far. Maybe on the way, he could buy a dragon or a horse. But now he didn't have time to look for it, he had to go.
He got close to the exit, there he saw two soldiers standing at attention, their tall, muscular frames looking fearsome. They were equipped with chainmail with the colors of their King, and his crest. Each soldier held a well-polished spear, the tips shining in the light. Their expressions were unreadable, eyes sharp and alert for any sign of trouble.
A group of peasants entered the town, with their humble attire and worn faces. The soldiers approached them.
In a coordinated motion, they crossed their spears in front of them, creating an X-shaped barrier. The wooden shafts of the spears clack together with a thud, a sound that echoed to Max.
"That was so cool." Max thought.
The peasants halted abruptly, eyes widened with fear and frustration. They clutch their modest belongings: "What is wrong?"
"Halt!" one of the soldiers with a scar running down his cheek spoke in a gravelly voice. "Inspection! Take out your wares."
The crossed spears remained firm, as Max ignored them and went on his way.
"So I just keep following the King's road." he still looked at the map, then folded it in a small square shape and put it in his pocket. He walked for a while north, but when he looked back he could still see the huge castle and its towers, it felt like he couldn't escape its shadow.
The road was lined with cobblestones, worn smooth by the passage of countless travelers over the years, or centuries. The rhythmic clatter of Max's boots on the stone made a comforting rhythm. On the sides of the road were ancient oak trees whose branches arch gracefully overhead, making a nice shade to walk under.
To his right and left, fields of wheat sway gently in the breeze. The scent of fresh air filled his nostrils, mixing with the aroma of wood and the food at the inn that couldn't leave him alone.
Occasionally, Max passed small groups of travelers and merchants, their carts filled with goods and wares. They nodded in greeting, their faces friendly but marked with caution. The castle remained visible for miles. "I'll never be sick of this view," he thought.
Max walked all day along the King's Road, the towering castle fading into the distance behind him. The journey was starting to become boring, with the same scenery for miles, fields, woods, and the occasional village. As the sun began to set, casting a golden yellow color over the landscape, Max spots a small farmhouse nestled in the thick forest.
Tired, Max approached the farmhouse and was greeted by the sight of an old barn standing nearby. He knocks on the farmhouse door, and a moment later, an older man with a kind face opens it, his child, holding him by his pants, next to him.
"Evening traveler," the farmer said, eyeing Max curiously.
"Good evening," Max replied, trying his best to sound polite and not say something idiotic that would offend the farmer. "I've been walking all day and was hoping I could stay the night in your barn. I can pay."
The farmer scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, it's been a quiet day, and the barn's got plenty of space. Five bronze coins should cover it, and Regnic here," he pointed at his son, "Will bring you even a nice, fresh glass of milk."
Max nodded, reaching into his pouch and counting out the coins. "Here you go," he said, handing them to the farmer.
The farmer accepted the coins with a smile. "Much appreciated. You can settle down in the barn. There is also some fresh hay you can use for bedding, and if you need water, there's a well out back. My name's Merow, by the way."
"Thank you, Merow. My name is Max," he replied.
The large wooden doors of the barn opened with a creak. Inside, the barn was spacious and smelled of hay and earth. The soft glow of lantern light cast long shadows.
"You'll be safe here for the night, Max," Merow said. "If you need anything, just holler."
"Thank you again," Max said sincerely.
Merrow nodded and headed back to the farmhouse, leaving Max to settle in. Max arranged a pile of hay into a makeshift bed and lay down, feeling the pain in his legs from all the walking. The barn is quiet except for the occasional rustle of animals and the distant chirping of crickets. He took some food from his inventory and had a small meal before he drifted away.
Morning came with the first light of dawn, streaming through the cracks in the barn's wooden walls. Max strewed from his bed of hay, still having problems completely waking up. The chirping of birds and the low moo of cows nearby signaled the start of a new day.
"When I think about how much walking I have today, I would rather become a farmer and stay here."
The barn door creaked open, and Regnic, Merow's son, entered, carrying a glass of milk. His wide eyes were filled with curiosity as he approached Max.
"Good morning, mister," Regnic said, offering the glass. "Pa said you might like some fresh milk now."
Max sat up, rubbing his sleep from his eyes trying to get it away, and accepted the milk with a grateful nod. "Thank you Regnic. This is just what I needed."
Regnic sat down on a nearby bale of hay, watching Max with keen interest. "Pa says you're a traveler. Where are you headed?"
Max took a sip of the milk, savoring its creamy freshness.
"I'm on my way to Kingsport. It's a long journey, so I've got a lot of walking ahead of me."
Rehnic's eyes widened even more. "Wow! That's really far. If you're going there you must be a mage! Right?"
Max chuckled softly. "Yeah, how did you know?"
"Everyone knows that Kingsport is the town of mages, with their academy and many other cool stuff. So can you do magic?" The boy's face lighted up with excitement.
Max nodded, finishing the milk and setting the glass aside. "I can, (FIREBALL!!) though I'm still learning."
"Can you show me something?!"
"Maybe some other time," Max said. He didn't want to kill the kid like he killed his classmates.
Regnic got a little disappointed. "Ohh… Well, I have to take care of Betsy, our cow. Good luck on your travels."
"I have to go as well, thank you Regnic."
But Max didn't immediately return to the King's Road. Instead, he found a secluded spot in the nearby forest. The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. It was quiet and peaceful, the perfect place to practice his spells. Or spell, singular.
"I had a chance to become a God to that kid until the end of his life, and I couldn't do shit!! How embarrassing. I have to practice a little so when the next kid asks, I'll blow him away with my fireball. But not literally."
He stood in a small clearing, took a deep breath, and began to channel his mana, focusing on a giant tree ahead. The air around him crackled with magical energy as he yelled: "FIREBALL!!" and he missed. The fireball flashed by the giant tree and went somewhere in the distance.
"Shit, I have to focus better."
He kept on trying and he kept on missing, every fireball went by the tree.
"Fireball!"
"FireeeBALL!!"
"Balloffire!"
"Fireballlll!!!!!!"
He felt tired, then he noticed his mana almost running out.
"Okay, one last try, I can do it!"
He focused like never before, he took his wand, "Confidence, that's what I need." He smirked and with a wave of his wand said: "Fireball!"
Spot on, the tree exploded by the raw power of his spell.
"Fuck yes!!" he started jumping. "Good shit, good shit."
He took a piss on the floor, where the tree once was. "Just in case so it doesn't light on fire, I don't want to burn this place down, not when the farm so close is."
When he made sure the fire was no problem he got back to the King's Road and continued his way North.
"What a noble thing of me," he thought, "making sure that the fire doesn't spread, I already feel like a better man. Maybe if I do some good stuff, the curse will disappear." he got deep into his thoughts. "Why the fuck does it smell like beef so much, it's making me hungry!"
He didn't notice a small amount of XP being added to his XP bar. Nor did he notice a giant fire on the farm, where Merow yelled at Regnic to hurry up with the buckets of water to try and save their house.
"Hurry! Fuck the cow, fuck the barn, save the house!" he yelled, sweat dripping down his forehead. "What did I do wrong that Gods send me fireballs to destroy everything I own?! WHY!?"
THAT MORNING
Merow had been up since dawn, tending to the crops with the meticulous care that a lifetime of farming instilled in a man. The wheat fields, golden and swaying gently in the morning breeze, were his pride and joy. Regnic, his son, was in the barn, feeding their cow, Betsy after the stranger left. It was a routine morning, the kind Merow found peace in after the war.
At one point, Merow paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. He glanced over at the barn, smiling as he saw Rehnic talking to the cow, his young face lit up. Life was hard, but it was these small moments that made it worthwhile.
Suddenly, a sound like a distant thunderclap echoed through the air, startling both Merow and Regnic, and Betsy. They turned towards the forest, where the noise had originated, confused about what it could be.
But before he could move, a burning ball of fire came from the forest. Merrow's heart skipped a beat when he realized the barn was on fire. Flames licked the barn, spreading rapidly towards their house.
"Regnic, get water!" he shouted. "We need to protect the crops and the house."
Regnic nodded, his eyes wide in fear, and ran to fetch buckets of water from the well. Merow grabbed a shovel and started to dig a trench around the crops, hoping to create a barrier to slow the fire's advance. Sweat poured down his face as he worked as fast as he could, the head from the approaching flames growing more intense by the second.
Then, another fireball came out of the woods, and a loud "Moo!" echoed through the air.
"Betsy! NO!" Regnic cried out. The cow was lying on the floor, on fire, dead.
"Leave her, Regnic! Hurry! Fuck the cow, fuck the barn, save the house!"
Regnic hesitated for a moment, his heart breaking because of the death of Betsy. Together they ran toward the house, that was already on fire.
Regnic, still clutching his bucket, stood beside his father, tears streaming down his face. "Pa, I'm scared. What are we going to do now?"
Merow put a hand on his son's shoulder, his own heart breaking. "We'll get through this, son. Somehow, we'll rebuild."
Merrow and Regnic stood by the remains of their home, their faces lit by the dying flames. The fire had taken everything from them, but Merrow still had the bronze coins from last night. "Good thing that nice guy was here, we have some money we could use."
In the distance, Max continued on his journey, unaware of the destruction he had left behind.