Zenos opened his eyes. A pale, crescent moon glowed in the night sky. He’d been tucked into his bedroll and laid out under the stars. A damp towel was folded on his head and a fire was crackling close by. He smelled meat.
What was that dream? he wondered. It felt like a fantasy, but at the same time….
Zenos rubbed his fingers thoughtfully in his palm and an idea occurred to him.
Why am I on the ground?
He sat up on the bedroll and a sharp pain split his chest. “Agh!” he cried and clutched the injury. He saw his shirt had been removed and bandages had been wrapped around his left shoulder. Zenos saw his HP read [80 (79)]. The gray number had fallen below his total health.
The automaton!
“Good evening,” Mad said.
Zenos searched for him and winced; again, the shoulder ached. It aggravated him with every turn of his head.
“You took a bad hit,” Mad continued. “Well, everyone takes one from time to time. Just don’t move too quickly and you’ll spring back.” He had sat down on a stump across the fire. There was an iron grill over the pit and he appeared to stir a gurgling pot with a ladle.
A bad hit? Of course it was bad, I was slapped for 700 damage.
“You didn’t tell me those automatons were that strong,” Zenos said.
Mad flashed a smile. “I’m sorry.” He chuckled and focused again on his patient stirring. “They are not full-fledged monsters, but I forgot they can still be dangerous for a novice. We’ll have to work you up to the task.”
Zenos straightened his back and tried to peek into the pot. “What’s that?” he wondered aloud.
Mad lifted the ladle and revealed the slick lumps of his savory stew. “Dried beef, carrots, potatoes, and some wild cabbage and onion from the hillside,” he said as steam wafted from the food. “Mixed with enchanted waters and spices.”
Zenos salivated.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Mad grinned and dashed a pouch of spices into the pot. “I’m Madilhero Endelhar, the Seasoning Adventurer.”
Later, Zenos shoveled down hot stew, spooning a mouthful as fast as he could swallow. [Adventurer’s Respite. Quality: 75. Effect: 800 Strength for 12 hours] a notification read.
It’s good!
Mad had turned stringy beef into delightful umami that melted in the mouth. The skinned potatoes, chopped in large chunks, had thickened the hearty broth. Together with the soft carrots and cabbage, the vegetables mixed in the mouth in a medley of seasonal flavors. By the time Zenos had finished his third serving, the warmth of the meal radiated from his core. He felt comfortable in the cold night.
“Well?” Mad asked, sipped from a bowl of his own.
Zenos lowered an empty bowl to his lap. “You’re really the man that made those sandwiches?” He smirked.
Mad smiled. “With training, you’ll be a top-flight adventurer,” he said. “But put in real effort and a ten-year apprenticeship, and I might make you an adequate chef.”
“How old are you anyway?” Zenos asked.
Mad hummed thoughtfully, tapped his spoon on his lip. “I’d say… 35 or thereabout?”
“You’re not sure?”
He shook his head. “Well, time passes,” he said. “Sometimes it’s hard to keep track of whichever day it is when you’re camping. You’re in your twenties, aren’t you?”
“Yes…” Zenos muttered and made a sly glance to the right. He opened the holographic biography screen.
It must have looked strange to Mad, as Zenos wiggled his fingers and made careful looks at nothing at all. It wasn’t the weirdest thing about Zenos, however, and the adventurer contentedly continued eating.
“23,” Zenos said. “I’m 23.”
“You’re practically a boy,” Mad said.
Zenos laughed. “I’ll have you know, I’m at least… uh…” He had to count with his fingers. “370?”
Mad’s eyes rounded.
“You don’t believe me?” Zenos asked.
Mad shook his head, his surprise passed with the moment. “The greatest wizards can live hundreds of years,” he said. “Age-extending magic is rare, but I have heard of it. You act young for a man that’s pushing 400.”
“Is that so?” Zenos smiled to himself and looked at the bowl in his lap. “I think you act mature for a man that’s only 35.”
“Was it natural to grow so old in your world?” Mad asked.
“The dwarfs had a lifespan as long as 500 years,” Zenos said. “And the oldest elves reached the low thousands. Men, however, rarely lived past a hundred or so.”
“So, you were very old,” Mad said.
“Yes.”
“But you did die eventually.”
“I did.”
“Was it on a comfortable death bed?” he asked.
“I was lucky for a long time,” Zenos said. He shook his head. “That luck ran out.”
Mad chewed slowly. He looked thoughtfully at the stars above. “That’s how life is,” he said with a mouthful.
“And what did my long life mean,” Zenos said. “If I can’t beat an automaton in this one? I can’t even judge a man fairly.”
“Did you think my cooking was bad?” Mad asked with a smile.
Zenos blushed and turned his eyes. “I mean, that sandwich…” he muttered.
Mad chuckled. “Apology accepted.”
The moon waned among the stars and the fire was doused. A heavy lid was placed on the stew. Zenos turned into his tent for the night and laid on his back in his bedroll, one hand on his chest and the other behind his head. The gray non-lethal damage had counted down until it disappeared, and with it went his pain.
Although it was late, Zenos stared at the blue screen of his player manual. He examined Anton’s biography more closely and memorized it, so that basic questions wouldn’t catch him unaware.
Who is this King Kalen Darigon and the ritualist that blinded Anton? he wondered as a scowl etched in his face. What Mad said, about the demon emperor and the Knights of the Devil King… there could only be one explanation: Ghost is in this world. Ghost is here, in Adohas!
Zenos switched screens to his player manual. He studied and informed himself on its detailed systems. I don’t know what he’s planning, but I want no part in it. One day, this voice in my head—that which reminds me of the one that took a billion lives—will disappear. With time, all I will hear is Zenos. I will be the demon emperor no longer.
Would that be okay, everyone?
Would you let me move on?
