Chương 22: I Became a Hero?

POV: The Dark Lord, Milo Miles I was flying through the grasslands. A perk of being the Dark Lord is that I don't have to walk, or ride a horse, or waste days just getting to a town. Today's goal was simple: reach a town called Arkhay, smash a few things since I had decided to put the kidnappings on hold after what had happened, and teleport home. That's right. Teleport. At Terror Level 26, I had unlocked the teleport skill. Which sounded incredible until I read the fine print.

It only takes me back to my own kingdom. Like the recall button in a MOBA game. I can't teleport to anywhere, only away. Still, beggars and Dark Lords can't be choosers. And I had hit Terror Level 26 passively, which was the real problem. The growth was slowing down. When I asked Nyx how the math worked, she admitted she had no clue either, but she did explain why the village fear had dried up. Those villagers rarely leave for the bigger towns, and there were not many of them to begin with.

Scare the same handful of people long enough and the fear thins out, then voids entirely. To keep climbing, I needed towns and kingdoms: bigger crowds, faster gossip, a proper information network. The catch was distance. Everything was far. The nearest option, Astrea, sat maybe half a day out by horse without speed buffs, and Astrea was home to the Church that managed the Hero. Showing up there right now would be a creative form of suicide.

I still didn't understand why my kingdom had spawned so close to Astrea in the first place. It was almost as if someone had wanted me dead the moment I arrived. Which, given how things had been going, wasn't all that far-fetched. With the potential saboteur of Greg still roaming free, I felt like living in this world is not as easy as simply balancing the fear and hope scale; something larger was at play, but I would think more about this later. For now, exploration and fear-farming.

According to Nyx's map that she had summoned yesterday, I just had to fly due north in a straight line until a town appeared. Towns were supposed to be bigger than villages; higher walls, sturdier houses, that kind of thing. I didn't have a clear picture of one, but soon enough, I spotted it: a ring of pale stone walls cradling a cluster of tiled roofs, a watchtower poking up at the center, the whole thing wrapped in the lazy smoke of a hundred chimneys. Bigger than any village I had seen.

Though, I had only been to like, three? Anyway, definitely a town. I wasn't wearing my cult-leader robe. After last time, I had figured out that the robe was basically a sign reading HELLO, I AM THE DARK LORD, since people clocked me instantly. So I left it back at the hut, or house, I should start calling it; it had graduated to something almost livable. And look, I'm a guy dropped into a whole new world. Wanting to explore it a little is only natural.

Level 9999 and a fistful of skills meant I could wander around without the usual beginner-Isekai problem of dying to the first slime I met. As I walked toward the gates, I noticed a line of people waiting to get in; most of them on horseback or perched in carriages. At the front stood a big man flanked by two knights, one at each shoulder, questioning everyone who approached. I did not have a horse. But surely they let people in on foot? Worst case, I could say a monster ate mine. So I joined the line.

As the queue crept forward, another rider fell in behind me. Popular town, clearly. Then I reached the front.

"Welcome to Eremiah. Proof of origin, please," the big man said. I froze. Eremiah? Wasn't this supposed to be Arkhay? Had I stopped in the wrong place? Flown the wrong direction entirely? And what in the world was a proof of origin? Some kind of ID? Nyx, naturally, had warned me about exactly none of this. Although, to be fair, if I had come here to smash things, I would not have needed paperwork. So the explorer detour was technically my own fault.

While I scrambled for a lie, such as getting robbed on the road, attacked by a monster, or suffering from amnesia, a voice came from behind me.

"He's with me, Barlo." I turned. A white horse. I followed it upward, and there, in the saddle, sat a woman. Blue hair, cut to the shoulder. She wore a dark navy riding tunic tailored for travel, layered beneath a weathered wool mantle draped over her shoulders. She had leather gloves and a satchel of papers at her hip. Nothing gilded, nothing showy. But one look and I could tell: this was someone people listened to.

"Oh, Lunessa." The big man's stern face cracked into a grin.

"This your new assistant?"

"Yeah. The last one quit." She shrugged.

"Decided that venturing out with me was too dangerous for his liking." Barlo let out a booming laugh.

"That's what competence gets you." Behind us, the line had started to mutter; a few groans, a whisper or two, people wondering why the gatekeeper was taking so long over one man. Barlo caught it too. He cleared his throat, straightened, and waved me through with one thick arm.

"You're free to enter. Welcome to Eremiah." Lunessa eased her horse into a slow canter beside me, matching my pace as we passed under the gate.

"So," she said.

"Are you an adventurer?"

"Um. No, not yet. I'm just here to... explore." Even as the words left my mouth, I knew how feeble they sounded. She narrowed her eyes at me.

"Hmm. Suspicious." Then why vouch for me? Why let me in at all? My pulse picked up. Was this it? I hadn't seen a single thing yet, and already I was calculating how fast I would have to fly to get clear. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Well. Whatever." She faced forward again, the corner of her mouth tugging up.

"You don't look like a bad person." A breath I hadn't realized I was holding slid loose.

"Just do what you came to do, and leave before people start wondering about you," she added, not unkindly, and nudged her horse into a quicker stride. I found myself watching her until the crowd closed over her trail. Weirdly nice of her. Which is exactly why I decided not to wreck anything in Eremiah. If the Dark Lord trashed the place an hour after she had vouched for me at the gate, she would be the one they blamed. Besides, I was supposed to be heading to Arkhay anyway. So, sightseeing only.

In front of me stretched a tangle of buildings, brick and timber jammed together. Most looked like businesses; there were cookshops, inns, a couple of blacksmiths throwing sparks into the street by hammering the anvils. As I walked the bustling road, I noticed the crowd was pretty diverse. Dwarves worked the forges. Here and there, people with animal ears and tails threaded through the throng.

I tried finding some elves since they were the classic race for a fantasy world, but I could not spot even one, for some reason. Well, at least most of the things here were textbook isekai adventurer setup. The standard next step: the protagonist wanders into a tavern or a guildhall, some small disaster breaks out, and he saves the day. Sadly, I'm no Hero. CRASH. The sound of shattering ceramic, somewhere just ahead. A stall with pottery, plates, pitchers, the kind of stuff I never learned the proper word for.

Most of it was in pieces on the ground. In front of it stood a group of big men: armor, broadswords, shields. Adventurers, probably. Thugs, more accurately. One of them, the biggest, was shouting at the shopkeepers, who were just an old man and an old woman, both most likely well into their sixties.

"What do you mean I have to pay up?"

"Sir, you've broken most of our wares," the old man said.

"Naturally we expect compensation." The big man stepped in close and grabbed him by the collar.

"Oh yeah? How about I compensate you with a fist to the face?" The others howled with laughter.

"Careful, boss," one of them sneered.

"Old bones like his, one good hit and you'll be scraping him off the cobbles. Hate to waste a punch on a corpse." More laughter. The old woman's hands fluttered toward them, then dropped. She wanted to pull them off her husband, I could see it, but she knew she didn't have the strength. It was painful to watch. The old me would have kept walking. But when I landed in this world, I had decided to use the second chance properly. Sure, I was the Dark Lord. That didn't mean I couldn't do something decent.... Right?

I wasn't actually sure. If word got out that the Dark Lord was out here saving little old shopkeepers, Greg might come down on me. Cosmic balance and all that. But one small act of kindness couldn't tip the scales that far, probably. Besides, I had left my Dark Lord robe. The big man hurled the shopkeeper backward, sending the old man sprawling.

"Dear!" The old woman rushed to him. He turned to survey what was left of the stall.

"Maybe I oughta teach you not to waste our time. Starting with the rest of this junk." I had no idea whether this town ran patrols. But even if it did, the guards weren't going to make it in time.

"Hey," I said. All three of them turned. I'll admit that they were intimidating. If not for my level, I would have felt it in my knees.

"Who're you, boy?" one said.

"Lookin' to play hero?"

"We are the Boar Rush party," another cut in, thumbing his chest.

"Every one of us is B-rank. Never seen your face around here. You really wanna take us on?"

"Uh, no," I said.

"I just want you to pay the man and leave. You're B-ranks. Shouldn't that mean you're loaded?" They laughed again.

"Yeah, but paying means admitting fault." The biggest one, the boss, started toward me.

"And we ain't at fault." He leaned in until his face was inches from mine.

"I hate newbies who act tough." God, his breath was foul.

"Went easy on the old man. But you?" His fist came up.

"You're young. You need the lesson more." The punch came in under a second. Fast, I'd give him that, b ut I am level 9999. His knuckles cracked against my jaw and stopped dead. Not a twitch. I felt his fist tremble against my face, the muscles in his arm straining, trying to wrench my head sideways by sheer force. Nothing moved.

"What the—" I exhaled, and used Sleep Gas; p urple mist bloomed between us. Mid-curse, his eyes rolled back. He folded straight to the ground and started snoring into the dirt.

"H-huh? Boss?" I stepped over his snoring body and looked at the other two.

"Pay up," I said.

"Or I would not just put you to sleep." That did it. They scrambled; silver coins slapped onto the table in a clattering heap, then both of them shoved past me, hooked their boss under the arms, and hauled him off down the street. His heels dragged twin lines through the dirt, his head lolling, still snoring like a contented drunk while his men wheezed under his weight and vanished around the corner. Wow. That felt good. Maybe I should've been the Hero instead. Then I heard it. Clapping. Then cheering.

The commotion had pulled in a crowd, and I had been so locked onto the three brutes that I did not notice the audience. I had no idea what to do, so I gave the people an awkward little wave. What were you even supposed to do in this situation? After the cheers died down and everyone drifted back to their business, the old couple approached me.

"Thank you, young man," the old woman said.

"It's fine, ma'am. You should probably get your husband to a—" They did not have hospitals here, did they? What did fantasy worlds even call the place where you get patched up?

"Oh, don't you worry. We've a healer right at the inn." She nodded toward the building behind the stall. A weathered board hung over the door, painted with the words Clasped Hands Inn.

"Oh. Great. Well, in that case—" I started to bow out, ready to get back to exploring.

"You should stay the night," the old man said.

"If you're not busy." What?

"Sorry, sir, I really can't just—""It's no trouble. Meals included." He clapped both hands onto my shoulders and began steering me toward the door with surprising force.

"What's your name, son?" he asked, still pushing.

"Uh, Milo," I said, half-stumbling along. Minutes later, I was sitting on a bed in a room on the second floor. It really was hard to say no to old people. Anywhere, apparently. They were relentless. Then I felt the familiar click of a mental link opening. Oh no.

"Where are you right now?" Nyx's voice rang through my skull.

"What, worried about me?"

"Go die, pig-brain. What's taking so long? I thought the plan was wreck part of Arkhay, then come back."

"Hey, no rush. I wanted to do a little exploring."

"Now is not the time for sightseeing! The Hero's party could show up at any moment. You can't just dump everything on me!"

"I'm out here doing the terrorizing myself, you demon."

"I heard that."

"... Oh shit."

"You'd better get back here soon, or I'm coming to drag your sorry ass back." The link snapped shut, and I sat there in the quiet. I did not want to go back.