In a world infested with monsters, demons, and evilness; what is a hero?
THE PATH OF A HERO is laid with death.
A hero is a mass murderer.
A hero is only one step above of being a slaughterer. He is by no means righteous. He takes life with the convenient excuse of protecting the land, the country, and the people.
A hero is a thief.
A hero would steal in the guise of his great cause. To be able to eliminate the enemies of the gods, he would plunder an innocent hamlet saying it is for his endeavor to gain what "greater good". It was not in his concern for it is a settlement of his people—as so he claimed the deed itself is "for the sake of the people."
A hero is a swindler.
A hero is a con. And a very good one at that. He would rally the people in the name of the gods and have them sacrifice their lives for him with a twisted sense of justice. He would march to the territory of other lands; may it be the Demonic territory or the Land of Beasts. For the sake of glory, he would expense the "lesser lives" of many.
In the end, what is a hero?
A hero is a politician. A powerful nemesis of people in the guise of a saint. He would save the land and the people in exchange for his undying name. A hero is immortal. Monuments of golds would be built for his honor.
He would become the symbol of the country and of peoples' hope, and the gods he
served will be revered and will be worshipped by millions of followers for eternity.
Their sanctuary would brim with jewels whilst their temples don with expensive fibers. The clothes of priests who buoyed the hero would never be less than extravagant. And the kings who vouched for his slaughter will live the life of luxury.
A hero is a puppet of the Church. A weapon of the King. And the tool of the gods.
A hero is a mess.
He does not need kindness. He was never kind. What a hero needs were strength, wit and influence. To be a hero means doing nothing heroic.
A hero is a knave.
***
"Money, gentlemen, is the most important thing in the world."
I was walking down in the middle of a dim room, speaking coherently while moving theatrically with my puzzling gestures. Don't ask. I also don't know why I was doing this. But this looks cool, so leave it.
I was grinning ear to ear, eyes narrowed—my smile went crescent as the moon.
In my finger, a ring of copper coins banded together were spinning round and round, making a beautiful singing sounds, sweetly reverberating in my ears. Why copper coins, you ask? Because that's all these bastards can afford!
"Did you get it?"
I asked with a twirl, then my eyes wandered about the spacious room.
"Oh, sorry. You don't get it, do you now. You're all dead. Kek."
Laughing heartily in the middle of multiple corpses surely would make me look like a villain. But, so what? I don't mind. These people were all villains like me, after all. We were like peas in a pot… Uhm, peas in a flood? Peas in... uh, yeah, something like that.
These idiots... How dare they call themselves the 'BBB' or otherwise known as the Big Band Bandits. They only had fifty people! Fifty, for heaven's sake! They don't even have money with them, and their treasury were mostly empty. All they had were these copper coins! Well, these are mine now. But! I want to spin coins of gold in my fingers too! Gold coins!
"Tsk. If not for the bounty that this moronic group had on their heads, I would never bother. They all died way too fast. Third-rates bandits, I tell you."
Splatters painted the room red with blood. Not a single drop in mine of course. When I entered this place and asked, "hey, who is your leader and where are your treasures," they laughed at me and launched attack without even answering, and that's it. They're all dead.
Broken doors, desks, chairs and traces of blades—cleaved floor, carve walls, dents and more—the destruction was mostly a deed of their own, but I did well in contributing. Now, I lost all my audience for my great speech, but well, I've got some copper coins for a talent fee. Not enough, I say. I can only afford this much chicken skewers with this…
There were writings on the walls, symbols that I cannot read, well, it was like this "BBB"—how do people read this I wonder? An ancient writing maybe? Well, ancient or not, I cannot read nor write, so what does it even matter?
These people, this Big—whatever—bandits were sore in the butts for the surrounding villages, so the guild put some bounty on them. Not really a big bounty, but enough for me to secure meals for weeks. Half a bag of silver coins is the reward. That many will help me live without worry for a while.
The smell of iron is really bad in this place. Blood really had a nasty stench. I am used to it but still, what smells bad smells bad. That's it.
I fished a scroll out of my pocket, opened it and toss it at the center of the room. It floated in the middle of the corpses and gleamed a golden light before closing back again to its original rolled shape. Now the mission is done. The scroll will serve as proof that the bandits were all dead. I need this, I was told. A proof is needed, the guild said, so that no deception will take place, or running away from the mission—both are served with severe punishment.
As if I would abandon a job that makes me earn money. A single coin is worth dying for. That's money for you! All hail money! All hail gold!
Oh, and by the way, the name's Gier, I was rude for not introducing myself. Well, it's time to head back. The guild is quite a pain in the ass if a report is late to come in.
As I exit the cavern used as the bandits' hideout, it was already twilight. The sun was already peeking from its haven.
"Hmm. It seems like a good weather is what we will be having today."
With that casual monologue, I left the bandit's den.
***
"What the…" was the first thing that came out of his mouth.
The guild's receptionist stared at the scroll that I handed over. He was wearing a brown vest over his white long sleeve. A curved mustache over his mouth. His short hair was neatly brushed up. If not for the place, he would look like the perfect gentleman. He was the receptionist who always receive my completion in this guild. Though, I said this is a guild, most likely people would call this establishment as a "Mercenary's Turf" and of course, us who served as the agent for this kind of place are mostly mercenaries. "Killers" without any cause but money. And at times, we serve as "Assassins" for people we don't even know. We are one of those who does all the dirty job in this kingdom; the "Raven's Guild."
The wide-eyed receptionist came back to his senses and grinned excitedly at me.
"As expected of Gier, the Child of Death. You did it in just one night. Splendid as ever."
I let out a sigh. This had become a routine and a bit of exasperating exchange for me. But, don't get me wrong. I don't hate this kind of conversation.
True, I took that mission yesterday afternoon. But he was wrong at one point. I shook my head to him and smiled, tsk, tsk.
"A single night? Keh," I raised a finger, "I did it in a single hour."
His excitement grew and his mouth gaped, and then he laughed with all he had. The other member of the guild gave us a puzzled look wondering what the ruckus he was making was all about, but since this was none of their business, they eventually turned away. Ah, that nickname "Child of Death" was just an exaggeration. A pointless decoration.
Well, even if I say so myself, an hour was also an exaggeration. Actually, I went to their hideout before twilight, twenty minutes is what it takes to get there, then I did what is needed for twenty minutes, killing all the bandits, and then returned in another twenty—thus, an hour. Honestly, killing all those crooks were easier than getting there. Running first thing in the morning really sucks. It was a good exercise, though.
"Well, that was kind of expected. Here take this."
He took a brown leather bag and put it on the reception desk. The clinking of what's inside readily rejuvenated me. I was revitalized. The sound of the coins is really soothing. I took the bag and inspected what was inside. Silver coins! And a full bag of it! I'm so happy that I was drooling.
But, something's not right here.
"Hey, why a whole bag?"
I asked, puzzled. The reward was supposed to be a half bag. I don't mind though. As long as it was not less, I will accept the reward. It's better to have more than scramble for less. Get it?
"The reward has change." he said as a matter-of-factly, "the chiefs of the surrounding villages that were pestered by those goons were fussing over this. They added some more when they heard that it was the 'Child of Death' taking on their request."
I made a frown. A doubting expression if I say so myself. Why would they do that?
"Why is that?" I quired.
"Geez. Because they know that it will be already resolved. They gave the additional rewards so late at night. It was a hassle, I tell you."
He smiled wryly.
"Well, that sucks. Anyway thanks. I need to go now. Have shopping to do. Haven't eaten for two days now."
I tucked the bag of coins and readied myself to leave. But when I was about to do so, he called up to me again.
"Ah, hey. The Guild master told me to inform you that he needs to see you today."
"Why?" I tilted my head.
I don't remember doing anything that would warrant an audience with him.
"I don't know either. But he looked serious, so for now will you please go there? I will be chewed out if you don't."
He said with a laugh.
"You don't look worried at all, though?"
As if being detached to what he just said, he shrugged his shoulders.
Oh, well... He's a man with guts.
I left him and headed towards the stairs leading to the Guild master's office. The day just got started so only few people were here. Well, not that there were many of us in the "Ravens" in the first place. Most people would love it there at the Adventurers guild rather than here. All who's here were killers. Murderers and assassins. Mercenaries.
This building is a humble establishment made with bricks and wooden frames. The floor was paved, but other than that, it was mostly wooden made. The windows were made of glass and the reception desks had glass panes, but that was it. Nothing too deluxe. Tables were set on the lounge area. At night or later hours, there would be people drinking using those. That's also the reason why the guild smells like alcohol even though it's this early in the morning. Also, those people on the desks are drunkards who cannot even make it home after drinking too much. Knowing how boisterous it was in here at night, it's strange to see it so quiet now.
I reached the end of the stairs and knock at the door that was in front of me.
"Come in."
A voice boomed from inside. I opened the door to let myself in. But before I could even settle inside, a blade rushed—the tip an inch further from the lid of my left eye. I slightly tilted my head to dodge. The blade made a swishing sound as it passed against me.
"Impressive as always."
"Bastard, when will you stop this kind of idiocy?"
He put his blade away, so in my case, I also pulled back the sword that was touching his neck, a drip of blood was colored there. He received a slit for a wound.
"Excellent reflexes and splendid counter attack. You really are something, kid. I didn't even notice when you pulled your blade. How about it? Wanna marry my Liana?"
Liana's gonna skin you alive if she heard that.
"Whatever, old man." I heaved an exhausted sigh, "So, what was it that you needed from me?"
I pushed on the subject. He walked towards his working table while healing his wounded throat, then pointed at the sofa and urge me to sit so I took the liberty to do so. A soft sensation engulfed my whole body the sooner I took my seat. What the heck is this sofa made from?! It's so soft and comfy!
"So?"
I shifted my gaze back to him, pretending that I did not think anything about the sofa here. The Guild Master of Ravens, Grizaldo Armah. He was a rough looking guy build with many battles, or so I heard. His huge build with his scary look was enough to gouge that he was strong. A leather jacket traced with fur embraced his body, partnered by boots and leather pants.
The inside of the room was rather simple. A sofa in the middle and a working table near the window. The floor was made with wood, along the simple walls about it. At the side of the table, a horse-beheading sword was placed. Ready to be taken at all times.
"Actually, a troublesome matter," he answered, tone grave, "I cannot entrust this with just anyone."
"I don't like troublesome matters," I said curtly.
I stood. I already lost interest. I already got my bag of silver coins so, if it's not that worth it and to top it up, if it was troublesome, then yep, I'll pass. Say what you want old fox, I will never bother listening.
"I know. But the reward are gold coins, see."
"Talk." Uh…
As if being pulled by an unknown force, my butt settled down again in the soft surface of the sofa. How strange.
"Take a look at this."
He was grinning in triumph. How annoying. He walked towards me from his table and handed an envelope with an intricate design. There was also a red seal there. I think the insignia is something I had seen before, but never mind that all. I've already forgotten.
"Are you mocking me?"
I asked, a little bit irked.
"Huh? Why?"
The guild master asked in confusion.
I replied coldly, "you know that I can't read, right?"
"Ah…"
He took the envelope and opened it then read the contents for me. He should have done so from the get go.
Even so, the content of the envelope really is troublesome.
*
"You have a look that tells me you don't know the insignia in the letter… Fool. That's the insignia of our country…"
"I haven't eaten for days… so, uh… I just forgot for a sec…"
"…"