He Called Himself Gott

Originally written on July 23, 2024


16:9 aspect ratio. Create an expansive, human-less panoramic landscape depicting a vast, ancient, and somewhat otherworldly wilderness. Rolling, mist-shrouded hills covered in dense, dark green forest stretch across the mid-ground and background. Hints of unusual, gnarled tree shapes are visible within the forest mass. In the foreground or winding through a valley, perhaps show a glimpse of rugged, untamed terrain – maybe rocky outcrops, thick undergrowth, or the edge of a dark, still river reflecting the moody sky. The lighting should be atmospheric and dramatic, like early morning with low-lying fog catching pale sunlight, or late afternoon with long, deep shadows, creating a sense of immense scale, untamed nature, and subtle mystery. No characters, creatures, settlements, or obvious paths should be visible. Epic fantasy art style, highly detailed, cinematic lighting, painterly yet realistic textures

A young man leapt out of the mess of a wreckage, watching the world before him. "I am afraid, he said, "but my fear is a strength. I have to keep going, as I was taught." He stood up and rested his soles against a short wall, trying to maintain his balance. He managed to keep his focus sharp, because his head was aching from blood loss. He did not realize it, but his body was walking. His gait was as bizarre as a man being adopted into a child's family. He kept walking, his posture remaining unhindered for a brief moment; however, he soon fell, his body maintaining parallel distance with the short wall, slamming against the concrete sidewalk, his face getting a graze. 

He eventually lay down and did not get up.

Hours later, he got up and looked around him. His mind could not comprehend anything, so he kept walking. He saw that he was being carried all of a sudden by two divine messengers of heaven. They spoke to him in hushed statements:"You musn't!", "You must stay still!", and "You must remain here!"

He did not understand this sudden situation, so he tried using his arms and hands to push the two figures away, only later discovering that his body passed through the figures. They could touch him, but when he attempted to push them, they passed through, as if they were ghosts. He did not think they were ghosts. He could not comprehend at all, but now that this happened, he looked at their faces. Expecting them to be distorted and horrific like monstrous ghosts, he braced himself. What he discovered was far worse. They had no faces.

He screamed, but by that point, he was being taken up a staircase. And he did not feel his legs walking up the staircase. He was being pulled up somehow, and his legs were moving on their own. He could not even feel it happening, but it was supernatural. He was horrified, and when he went into heaven, he broke into a frown at a later sight in front of him.

Before him, a man stood, different from the two figures, who were just now disappearing away into thin air. He looked at the young man, and he said, "How are you?"

The young man looked at the older man, and being confused at the two figures and the horrific situation he was in, he inspected his environment, discovering that it was this heaven-like place. He thought he was going to die or be launched into something very horrible, but in front of him stood a man that he did not understand. This situation confounded him.

The older man smiled, and suddenly, he shook the younger man's head and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. It was like he was teasing a younger brother. In contrast, the younger man was quick to let go, cringing away in fear.

"I am happy for you," said the older man, being a little playful with his hand-waving gestures. He backed away and stretched his arms wide. "Hello, man of Earth. I am Gott! I know, I know. It's German, but hey, we're a little bit German in heart, aren't we? You know? Germanic? Hehe, it's a linguist joke, but we all know you're at least a tiny bit aware—right?—of that. Anyway, let's be on our way, tending to the crops of our forebearers. But no worries, I am referring to you. I tend to say "we" even if I am a god, and you are... well, you're a man... or a human being to be exact!" He raised his finger at that last exclamation.

The younger man was frowning, distraught. "Huh!" he said what felt like five years after Gott said all of that.

"I am happy for you," said the older man, being a little playful with his hand-waving gestures. He backed away and stretched his arms wide. "Hello, man of Earth. I am Gott! I know, I know. It's German, but hey, we're a little bit German in heart, aren't we? You know? Germanic? Hehe, it's a linguist joke, but we all know you're at least a tiny bit aware—right?—of that. Anyway, let's be on our way, tending to the crops of our forebearers. But no worries, I am referring to you. I tend to say "we" even if I am a god, and you are... well, you're a man... or a human being to be exact!" He raised his finger at that last exclamation.

The younger man was frowning, distraught. "Huh!" he said what felt like five years after Gott said all of that.

Gott stared and smiled, staring silently.

The younger man took a breather and watched around him again, only to find himself overwhelmed by the lights.

Gott noticed this and turned down the lights, making it dim.

The younger man shouted huh again.

Gott furrowed his brows while smiling confusedly.

The younger man fell to the ground.

Gott raised his brows.

The young man got up and looked around, saying help.

Gott took a step forward before he stopped in hesitation, looking to the side in thought with his arms half-reaching out and, as yet, frozen. He pulled back his arms  and straightened himself to normal, watching the young man dizzily get up again after falling for what felt like the third time.

Gott did not want to help him in case the young man thought he was being pushy.

The young man made eye contact and immediately frowned, saying God. 

Gott turned his head to the side in confusion, his eyes darting around, turning his right ear toward the man. "Yes?" he asked.

"Who are you?"

Gott leaned back in surprise. He gave him a "What do you mean?" face.

The young man's frown deepened, looking about to cry.

Gott stared, sharing the man's dark frown, but for a different reason. He was still bewildered.

The young man burst into hyperventilation.

Gott straightened his body after leaning in forward and leaned slightly back, a little awkward. He felt at fault for the man's burst.

"Okay, I'm fine," said the man after what seemed like 10 minutes.

Gott could not consciously remove his frown, so he covered his mouth and forcibly raised his brows to clear the man's impression of his expression.

The man stared calmly, having the expression one might have after coming out of the shower.

Gott opened his mouth slightly, his eyes squinting.

The man was the one to raise his brow and lean slightly away this time. He was worried that he had offended Gott.

Gott gave what he thought was a customary greeting thumbs-up. "How... are you?" he said with a slight tinge of awkwardness. But he felt that it was better than getting that stare-down awkwardness.

Gott smiled and gave another thumbs-up for effect. "Heyo! How's it going, human-yo!" he said, genuinely interested in seeing how the man would respond.

The man frowned, disgusted.

Gott's mouth dropped, but he hid it very quickly. The man did the same.

They were both in a hurry to pretend that they did not just do that.

Gott then looked around and forgot what he was supposed to do.

He said, "Why are you here?"

"That was my question!" the man said.

Gott said, raising his hand before lowering it after making a change of mind, "Wait, are you... a human?"

The man stared for a few seconds, before mouthing yeah. He did say it, but he said in a murmur with his face angled to the side.

Gott stared at the floor to the right of the man, frowning in thought for a moment before his face lit up. "Hey, I was wondering if you're wanting to do human things!"

The man said yeah.

Gott looked at the man and waited for him to say more.

But the man looked dead with how calm and silent he was.

Gott rubbed his face to help gain a sense of control. "Okay, so what are you doing... right now?"

The man stared at the place where the staircase from earlier used to be before it disappeared into thin air like the two aforesaid angelic figures. "Ha," he said. "I have to go to the park today for a pick-up. They said I was getting billed for not arriving on time. You know I work a delivery job, and I was wondering—"

"Really! Cool!" Gott said.

The man let Gott interrupt him, but that was because he was actually confused why Gott was still talking. "Wait, you're not a figment of something..."

Gott said huh.

The man stared for a while. "You're real?"

Gott said uh-huh.

The man gently sat on the ground and looked like he was dead with his eyes open and still.

Gott rubbed his arms to soothe himself, looking away and pursing his lips uncomfortably, pressing the skin of his left arm.

The man looked dead, so Gott squinted for a bit, glancing at the man for a while until he recognized a slight movement that indicated that he was still alive and was merely feeling dead.

Gott nodded to himself and looked away.

After what felt like hours, the man got up and stared at Gott. "Hey, tell me. Why am I here? Why do you talk like that? Who are you?" It was not mean, but it was definitely confident. For some reason, he felt like talking to Gott even when he lay down on the ground out of sheer terror and pretended to be dead. This was the same thing he did when he was a child when his entire family was outside of the house, because he was afraid of ghosts that time.

Gott could not answer, because the man was holding Gott's throat. "Hey, why are you doing this?"

The man stopped gripping Gott in the neck and stopped himself. "I'm sorry. You're not a monster?"

Gott shook his head.

"Then where's your face?"

Gott, all this time, had recessed lines taking the place of his eyes and mouth. That was how he frowned and squinted. It only appeared to be that way.

The man was so terrified that he was taking physical action, but he halted himself before he did anything. This was a complex situation between the two of them, and whatever happened next was not going to be pleasant or smooth.

Gott slapped the young man in the face, raising his hand and striking the man in the throat, effectively removing the air magically.

The man fell to the ground, gasping for air.

Gott stared, unwilling to deal any more damage to the human being. Though he was not even sure what the man was, if he was a human being at all.

The man was unable to take the damage, because it made him start shaking.

Gott grabbed him immediately and healed him with his hand, preventing a possible convulsion leading to death.

The man was still, even when he was healed, his hand gradually unfolding because of an interplay between gravity and the joints. He was also not controlling them at all, his entire being left to be led my gravity. He removed control of himself.

Gott decided to leave, teleporting away.

The man stayed there for hours.

When Gott teleported away, he first took a deep breath where he was now, in a magical flying room in heaven. It had a window that offered a look into a fantasy world. "Okay, let me watch my favorite show!" He made some chips appear in a bucket in his right hand and softdrinks in a cup in his left hand. Then he relaxed against a chair and watched a skirmish between goblins and humans. After watching for a while, he went to the man again and saw that the man had not budged from his spot. He was peeking, so feeling bored, he turned away before he suddenly had an idea, walking and peeking again at the man.

The man, two minutes later, was sitting in front of a chair where Gott sat talking to him. "You should join them," Gott said, pointing through the window at the aforementioned skirmish in the fantasy world.

The man, unable to think straight, said yes.

Gott nodded and gave a thumbs-up, shaking his hand and shaking the man's head as a parting gesture.

Then Gott teleported the man to the skirmish.

The man shouted at the sight and realization at what he had just agreed to. In front of him, bodies lay. Men were fighting, and soldiers were being eaten up.

Goblins stared at him before darting in zigzags toward him.

The man turned away and ran, his face looking back at the goblins. "What the hell!" he screamed.

Meanwhile, Gott laid his back against the chair and wondered what he was going to do next today.

Returning focus to the young man, he was later found hiding by Gott under a tree where he could hide himself enough not to be detected even by the darting eyes of the goblins. The man was safe, for now.

Behind the man, he saw a dog barking loudly at him. He shook his head at first abruptly before raising his hands, checking around for goblins. Then he gradually got up, trying to avoid getting bitten by the nearing dog. He jumped as soon as the dog went under his legs, darting away. He ran into a group of knights, who all looked like they were wearing pajamas to their mouths with all their armor. They paused, scaring away the dog and turning their head sideways to look at the man, slowing down their sprint to a stop. They all stopped as one tight group, staring for five seconds.

One of them yelled, "You intruder!" His eyes peered out of his head a few inches above the reach of his mouth-reaching armor.

Another said: "No, you're misunderstanding. That man is a legendary human being! He is one of the greats!" He was kidding, as they continued their sprint into the battle.

The man's face was so distraught that it screamed huh even without words.

He ran, finding his virtual path of escape in the direction whence the knights came.

He saw a vast tropical landscape, unable to bear his excitement. For some reason, child-like desires of exploration and curiosity burst forth in him.

He stopped, hesitating with a palpable fear in his smile. He was right to be afraid. A troll the size of a tree was moving in front of him, its eyes looking down. It did not look aggressive, but to the young man, anything was aggressive at this point.

"I am wrong! I am wrong!" he started yelling as he ran away, finding that his sprint to the right in the direction whence the knights came to be wrong. He went leftward instead, taking the path around the troll. He hoped not to collide with goblin soldiers or anything like that.

He saw a man staring at him from the distance. It was immediately obvious, as if the man had been staring at him all this time.

The young man wondered what he was to do with that, before he ignored the man anyway, knowing that he either ran or stopped only to risk himself further to collision with the combatants of the skirmish. 

The man staring at him did not disappear, and he was walking toward the young man.

The young man bolted, hoping not to get caught.

The man stopped, before he turned around, walking away.

The young man turned around after a few seconds, but he did not see him walk away. So he kept running, sprinting as hard as he could. He imagined bursts of colors flowing in the wind tending to the wounds of his soul and embracing his mind so that they could beget the heavenly realm. 

Five hours passed.

Long away from his previous place, the man halted after a while, seeing that it was getting too sweaty and humid for him to run. He scanned his surroundings, seeing two twigs walking up to him.

He needed to regain control, so he thought quickly, grabbing two stones on the ground and throwing at them, hitting each of them with each stone, perfecting his preemptive attack strategy. He launched a dash and made sure to avoid further interaction and potential counterattack. He did not know if he succeeded or if it was just, but he knew the danger lurked by and any fitting mode of interaction was necessary.

In his mind, he thought that if he could not interact with what might kill him, he would be dead.

Before returning to reality, he lay down and watched the day fall away, and his body becoming slave to the sleepy dues that it required.

He woke up in a flash of light, as swords dashed together in unison. They belonged to a group of knights. The sound of bark spreading and cracking added to the nuisance, preventing him from calming down. His heart was spiking in pace; in response, he leapt out of his sleep and hurled himself in a speedy chase with life. This manifested as an actual sprint down the forest floor. The vastness and richness of this world loomed at him.

Two hours passed.

He gasped to catch his breath as the night faded. It was horrible spreading out his legs so little for this. He did not think of this, or anything at all. He wanted to get rid of the pain, and he could not.

He had to take it, but his legs tumbled to the ground. He gasped again, as he felt a spike slam against his back on the ground. There was a spike on the ground, and his right shoulder was hit. He immediately scanned his environment and the canopy of the forest. He saw that he was safe in that regard and gradually lifted himself. Since the spike was stuck to the ground and was only piercing against him without being dragged along, he removed his body from the spike and the ground, getting up straight on his two feet. He had not expected to fall against the floor. His body was dragging along with itself in a fight between energy and the need to be proactive in its survival.

He took a breath and closed his eyes, perfecting silence, by which point, he crawled on the ground, his legs brushing against forest floor vegetation.

After finding his way to a pool of water, he saw a magical pillar of light shining from it. He did not think much of it, but when he touched the water, it glowed green. It was white earlier.

He said what.

The pillar of light moved forward and back, as if it was a stage light from the sky. It then returned to its original place, and it turned back to white.

The young man hesitated on whether the green light would kill him or not. He needed water, so he drank quickly, watching the pillar of light do nothing for the next 50 seconds.

After that, he crawled as fast as he could.

There was nowhere to go but forward.

He kept running into trees because he was not paying attention anymore. The pain of his arms and legs were breaking him and his capacity to think and register the trees coming in front of him.

He could not see but see this endless video of trees walking in front of him. It felt like he was not moving, but the trees were.

He then stopped, feeling the weight of dizziness slam against him.

He collapsed.

"Where am I?"

He frowned.

He smiled.

He frowned in terror.

He smiled with horror.

His face looked like a grin, but it was dominated by a warped expression of doom.

He grimaced before watching the sky from his peripheral view, his head unable to be moved up anymore, because it had reached its exhaustion.

He moved his fingers and the angles of his hands and arms to be more comfortable. He switched their positions every so often because it was getting painful to have his body weighing down of them, as he was lying down on his belly and arms.

He could not even grieve.

It was all too visceral, and his skin was both humid and sharp. It was not itchy. It was sensitively in pain, and while it was supposed to feel itchy, his natural pain killers made it impossible.

Time passed, and his hunger loomed like a moving army of clouds that would bring rain and thunderstorm.

He knew that he would most likely meet his end. But he smiled anyway, maybe as a coping mechanism, maybe as a deeper symbolic response. Even he was not sure as to why he did that.

A day passed.

Gott was staring still at the skirmish that was still going on. The man, however, was lying down, dead likely. But Gott was not completely sure, so he decided to heal him, removing his illness and his pain. The rain had been strong on the man, and he was dying. He was also too exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. The man had been there for too long on the forest floor, even if not a single direct sunlight was touching him where he lay.

The young man got up, and he looked around, his gaze empty and calm. It was not devoid of discomfort, as he felt that the forest was a land of dead bodies, because of what he had just undergone.

The way the sun moved was gentle, and it made him think of better things, like not dying.

He began to move though moments, unlike when he was dizzily snapping in and out of reality earlier, as he walked. For some reason, all of his pain and suffering was gone, and he questioned that. But his mood was too intense to question it beyond a mere moment of wonder.

He wondered why. As to what he was asking why about, he felt that just the word "why" was succinct in expressing everything he needed to say.

He smiled for some reason. It was on his face, and he had to admit that. He saw a village. Oh, that was why.

A village approached him; rather than he did.

He saw that he was being welcomed just by the sight of it, and he could not be let down anymore, for all things good as long as they were not death and torture.

The villagers were first seen walking in their daily chores and activities, but to the man, it did not matter at this point. He just wanted to see them and approach them, even if it might end badly. He was taking a risk, like everyone did in anything substantial in life, when it came to personal growth that is.

In the end, he was here for a reason he felt. If he was not here for a reason, he was here for some other reason than the reasons he had in mind.

He had to make a logical decision, and this was his version of it—he walked to the village and approached the villagers.

They said hi and hey.

The younger man could understand them. Good.

He rubbed his face, feeling like he needed to do it given how he can still remember being so tired and feeling so exhausted and death, which he associated with baggy eyes and a numb face. So rubbing his face was an automatic response from him.

Staring at the villagers, his smile deepened all the while.

He had no way of understanding anything beyond this moment of peace. He could not explore the details, because he was still processing what the hell happened to him at the wreckage of a car accident before all of this happened. The details did not exist, and he was still in a state of indefinition.

He needed time, and the villagers gave him time to process things.

He had been subjected to traumatic life events, and his psychological processes required that he processed them.

It would take time, but he was willing.

The young man stared at a tall man, who looked like he hated him to his guts. Even if he could not process details, he could process that visceral intense look on the tall man's face. The tall man also looked like he was holding back his fist, given the twitching of his right eye.

The young man, whose name was Richard, was happy to know that his entire life could end in this moment, but he was not afraid right now. He was more so awkward. "I apologize for intruding. I was escaping from the skirmish—"

"Skirmish?"

"Skirmish, yes."

"Why's that?"

"I couldn't..."

"You couldn't fight hard enough, no? Coward?"

"No, no, I am not..."

"Part of it? Yeah, like all of you cowards do. I had to stay here to tend to this, and look at here, just a pile of garbage standing in front of me. You think you can get away with this—"

An older woman popped up: "Mensel, enough, enough, don't bother the young man."

The tall man, who was apparently "Mensel," said: "Eh, ma? See what he's doing, getting away with it! He should not be doing this!"

Richard said: "I should not be doing this?

The tall man grimaced. "You..."

The older man covered her mouth, gesturing for the tall man to close his mouth.

The tall man bowed respectfully and went on his way, gazing at Richard with a clear animosity.

Richard smiled sheepishly, not wanting to be intrusive or provocative.

The older woman looked angry, but she sighed and laughed. "He's too old now. He used to be a small boy. But look at him, lah. He's gone lah. I thought he would stay a little boy, but ever since his father died, it all went downhill from there, haha."

Richard raised his brows. "I'm sorry..."

The older woman smirked and nodded, remembering the past. "I know you're not here for the skirmish, nor do I believe that you are from the combatants of the knights."

"Knights? How did you know?"

"You're not wearing armor, silly."

"Huh? How... Actually, why... What... Do..."

"You have questions. What is it? Let me hear it."

"I... I'm not from here. I was teleported here... somehow."

"'Here'... 'Somehow'..."

"Yes."

"That is interesting. You must be a mage then. Only mages can be transported, as far as I'm concerned. I've never seen a single non-mage do anything special like teleporation."

"That sounds digestible."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, don't mind me."

"Okay..."

"Oh, sorry. I was trying to say that you sound good. I mean, you sound like I know you, or something like that. Like we know each other... Basically, that you're easy to get along with... Or... you know... I could listen to you good... because you could talk... effectively..." Richard was waving his hands, trying to get out the exact words. His mind was not in a convenient place, since he was still processing what had happened to him. So it came out awkwardly at first, but he was not too bothered by it, just a little awkward.

The older woman nodded, her gaze shifting away to the side, as if realizing something. "You're not a knight then."

"Huh, you're the one who was saying that."

"Nah, I was just guessing, hehe." The older woman's smile suddenly looked creepy to Richard, given that she had lied to him.

Richard rubbed his mouth, compressing his lips before opening his mouth and saying, "What can I do here? I was wondering that we can talk about this sooner... or later. I would like to try living here, is... that okay?"

The older woman nodded. "Just take a few farm tasks, and you can be well on your way to become a part of our little troupe, haha." She was genuinely laughing, but she sounded sarcastic initially.

Richard quickly responded with a polite, easygoing smile.

Richard followed the woman and arrived at a small spot for him to work as an assistant. After an hour and 30 minutes, however, he was like the item-getter boy, since that was all he did, unlike the person who looked like the true assistant of the person for whom he was working and to whom the older woman introduced him.

Richard waited and obeyed patiently, unwilling to remove his benefits, even they were relatively small. They were still the essentials of shelter, food, and support. In any case, he was happy to be here, having learned that small things were enough, at least for now. But he was worried he would start being expected to throw everything away and be led to fighting in the skirmish to which he was forcibly teleported at the start by Gott.

In any case, he did not know how to think in this new context, so he did not, letting time pass in the meantime.

Working did not make it any easier to process things, because the villagers were unusually hard-working, as he was sure that villagers lived slower lives.

But he concluded that the village was weird or this new world was different than Earth.

10 days passed.

He saw a dog limping to him.

He helped it and bandaged it with the materials he was given. To his side, one could see a group of boys crossing their arms in unison. He was made to teach the boys about helping dogs, whatever their needs were. This would allow them to be more responsible once they had children or weapons that they needed to manage.

It was customary in this village, and he was honestly just weirded out why 1 week was enough for him to start taking on what looked like big roles. But he assumed that it was because it was a village and not a large society that employment was not this lengthy, regulated, and systematic process. It was highly informal here in this village, and everything was much smoother and straightforward, and as human as a group of friends delegating roles to each other as part of an informal task force. It might sound funny, but to him, this was everything he needed to build something fresh out of the start. If taking care of teaching children helped him learn how to survive, then that would make it easier for him to adjust to the complexities and nuances of this world. He was going to be much more proactive as he learned and gained transferable skills. It was going to take some time, but he was patient.

After the day ended, he was made to sleep in one of the villagers' rooms. He was transferred every week or so, and he was told it was because he had to adjust to make room for the villages and their changing sleep schedules.

One instance of sleep passed.

Sounds clapped like military jet seats that burst out in an emergency. He woke up with a thunderous beginning, hearing roars of men jumping around. It was a group of knights rolling up in their wagons, and they were here to visit as a friendly gesture, bringing fruits and vegetables also.

Richard was shocked to see the familiar knights he saw earlier, and he waved. But they did not see him, because he was inside and looking through a relatively remote window.

He got out and saw the knights making punching gestures and doing friendly gestures like dancing and giving each other high-fives. 

The villagers were unloading the wagon, and some were helping the knights remove their armor.

"The skirmish is over?" he found himself asking as soon as he approached them. He did not do it casually, but he was growing so curious that he could not take his silence with how casual and friendly the knights were with the villagers.

The knights looked at him and said, "No. We're just here on a break."

"B-break?"

"Yeah, it's a tournament, in fact."

"T-tournament?"

"Yeah, what did you think? I knew you were a foreigner, from the way you dressed and looked. You looked like a man from another land."

"O...-kay..."

"What next? What you planning? Kill some gobs with us?"

"I thought it was a tournament!"

"It was. But we kill some gobs, and we do it in competition with each other."

"How?"

They explained it and the breaks.

It sounded like a marathon for Richard, but he did not what a marathon was either. But the fact that it lasted long and involved breaks sounded like a multi-day marathon.

"Okay, where we going next?" said one knight to the rest.

One answered, "We can go to Jeffgo."

"Got-im!"

On the side, Richard was trying to talk with one of the knights putting on his armor after enchanging it with newer armor from someone lesser in rank.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Oh, it's like yes!" said the knight, smiling through his eyes even with the armor blocking the lower half of his face and above the eyes as well, with a rectangular gap for the eyes.

Richard watched the knight join the rest and them leave.

The villagers and Richard returned to their business.

"What were they?" he asked his fellow assistant, the "true" one, in between lulls during work.

"The...?"

"The knights..."

"Yeah...?"

"Yeah."

"What about it?"

"They... who are they?" Richard's face carried a little small "Are you sure you don't know?" 

"The people who take care of any disturbances in the land. We work with them, but we're told that we should be heading to the city sometimes soon. We're actually one of the last villages in this area, given the increasing expansion of the city. There are new people everyday here however, and you're one of them. We actually got a new villager yesterday."

"I thought that was old, I mean, an older villager from... who just came back, you know?"

"Yeah, no. They're a newbie like you."

"Oh... okay."

"Yes, so if you want to talk about the knights, you can ask them yourself. We are actually the worst people you should ask about them, since we have no clue when it comes to their changing roles in this region."

"Really? That sounds cool. Is that like a... new cool thing?" He was trying to find the word for "easter egg" and came up with "new cool thing".

"Yeah, kinda, no not really. It's up to you. They're not exactly new, but if you've been here for a while... or since you're going to be here for a while, actually, you should check the city in case you haven't. You sound like you haven't, based on your responses to me."

"Huh, yeah. I haven't. So I should go there now?"

"Not as of now. You could go again, I mean, you could visit it for the first time tomorrow. We have regular daily passersby who know the exact path, and they would be proud to show you the way."

"Okay, thanks."

Several days passed, and Richard had not gone yet to the city.

Something had happened on the second day after his conversation with the true assistant.

On the second day, while Richard was fixing the weapons in order, one of them exploded with a purple flash of magic. It made contact with Richard's skin, burning it.

"Argh!" Richard screamed, his voice ricocheting to the rest of the villagers. 

"Help!"

The villagers were on the move immediately, but something was off.

Richard's voice sounded distorted like it was being eaten up.

Richard noticed the purple explosion beginning to infect his skin gradually, and his voice was growing affected, making him sound demonic.

He had to stop screaming lest he scared the villagers.

The villagers came in sight and splashed healing potion on him, cleansing him of the magical infection.

Richard fell to the ground, and he knew that he almost died. "W-w-what happened?"

"You... that was..."

"I'm sorry," said Mensel, the tall man. "That was me. That was my bad. I am sorry..."

All the villagers were surprised, shifting their heads and eyes toward him. Richard was the only one looking at the ground, not wanting to be confrontational in gesture, even if he was truly terrified when the explosion happened and started infecting him.

Mensel said, "Let me explain. I stole this from one of the wagons. I know, I know. I should not have—"

The older woman slapped him and grabbed him by the shoulders. "You disgusting prick!"

Mensel frowned, bearing the burden of her frustration.

The older woman sighed. "Okay, time to pack up."

Mensel, who was just looking down, suddenly looked up at her in shock. "Wait, now, ma, ma, no!"

The older woman shook her head, cringing in disappointment. "Cannot. Sorry."

Mensel looked distraught, glancing at Richard, toward whom he truly felt sorry. There was one thing he did not want to be, and that was being a burden.

Richard saw me and frowned, but he did not want Mensel to think he disapproved of his presence here to the point of wanting him gone forever. So he cleared his expression, but Mensel took that as a sign of disgust being hidden suddenly. He slightly slouched and began walking away, his expression clear, but very subtly distressed.

Richard knew that he had to do something, so he jumped at the opportunity and said, "Why don't we go to the city together?"

The older man opened her mouth to speak, raising her hand, but Richard's fellow assistant tapped her shoulder and shook his head.

Richard and Mensel began walking, starting their journey to the city. It was simple enough, and the villagers did not take anything against Mensel and Richard. But they believe it was only necessary for Mensel to find a new path, even if he did think that he was protecting the village, or supposed to do so.

Richard did not care about any of that, being a stranger, the closest path to friendship, much, much more than someone who knows you too well. Mensel had bad memories, and he knew that Richard did not care about any of that.

But he was still afraid. Richard shared his fear but for a different reason.

They were two lonely men in a vast world, and the only path was a road through the forest.

The city had no patience and respect for those unable to reach its gates.

The forest was similarly dismissive toward those who could not handle its complexities and mysteries.

Richard had to trust Mensel, and Mensel had to trust that Richard was willing to help him.

Several hours passed, more than enough time for a goblin to break a man open.

Later, while walking, Richard fell to the earth, feeling the wet stain of the mud again. He had forgotten it, but he was reminded again. The pace of the village had made it easier for him to live in the motions, so now that things were shifting, he was not able to make it go away. The visceral difficulty of walking on a road and noticing well the sensitivity of his body and mind to the world that was imposed upon him.

Mensel watched him get up. "How are you?" Richard said.

Mensel smiled weakly. "I have not... I don't know." he said.

Richard said hmm and tried wiping some of the mud on his hands and knees. But they stuck to his skin.

Mensel, being taller, did not want to think about Richard as a small person unworthy of his respect, and Richard made it easy, given how easygoing he was to be around. It was the fact that he was not doing anything else special that made him easygoing to him. Back in his village, he always felt like there was a dynamic to manage. Richard looked like he did not care at all, and it was not just because Richard was a foreigner, because the village receives foreigners from to time. But Richard was just different, never trying to do anything or needing to do anything in particular that felt imposing.

Their path was composed of 78 parts, and Mensel knew well that what they were going to face required more than just the two of them. So he stopped and told Richard to wait.

After a while, a group of wagoners came, carrying adventurers. These people fought monsters for a living, but more than that, they travelled a lot. They were more receptive to conversation than knights were when it came to help getting around.

One of the adventurers jumped from the wagon dramatically, his entrance distinct enough that Richard said wow.

Mensel told Richard that adventurers did not like being stared at by someone they were not talking to. Richard averted his gaze immediately.

The adventurer who had just jumped frowned when he saw Richard avert his gaze. When Mensel approached, the adventurer kept his gaze at Richard, but he did clear his expression for Mensel. "I know you. You're the son of Majish, right."

"Yeah..."

"How is he?"

"He is not... He passed away recently actually."

"Really... when?"

"4 years ago."

"That is pretty recent. He's been alive for what? 200 years?"

"226."

"That is very long, isn't it? Why did you allow him to live that long 100-year-old Mensel." The adventurer watched Richard's expression.

Richard turned pale, keeping his gaze locked to the side rather at them, not willing to open up dialogue about why the adventurer was gazing at him just yet.

Mensel said, "How is Mickey?"

The adventurer frowned. "He's fine."

"A little much, don't you think? Why is Mickey still in prison, I wonder?"

"Stop," said two other adventurers.

"Oh, my bad," said Mensel. "I was just asking."

Simultaneously, the three adventurers jumped back into one of the wagons on which the adventurers were riding.

Mensel asked about heading to the city and about the 78 parts.

Different from the three adventurers earlier, an adventurer tapped two other adventurers and walked up to Mensel. "Oh, you can come with us then. We're rounding back, but we need to fix some things first with one of our rabbit farms. The good thing is that it is not far from here. So if you're willing to come, just tell me. We'll be around the area."

Mensel nodded before he turned to Richard, waiting for his thoughts on it.

Richard locked eyes with Mensel for 8 seconds before he realized that Mensel was waiting for him to say something. "Oh, I don't know... I haven't heard about this. I don't know. I delegate this to you. Tell them that we can go."

Mensel raised his head and looked up in thought before redirecting his gaze at Richard. "We can try doing cross-mapping, since I also want to check first with the lumberjacks. We can meet them here again later. So they're going that way and we're going this way." He pointed at two opposite directions when he said that.

Richard raised his brows.

Mensel said, "Do you not understand what I'm saying?"

"I don't. I'm new here. I don't even know where I am."

"Oh, I see, I see. Just confirming."

Meanwhile, the adventurers finally left.

"How many are they?" Richard asked.

"18. I counted."