[Quest Complete]
[Reward: 100 Exp x 2]
[Killing Lv8 : 800 Exp x 2]
[Lv gap bonus: = 7 X 100 = 700 Exp x 2]
[Lv up!!]
[Current Lv: 4]
[Skill Points: 8]
Lexel crossed his arms, staring at the blue text floating in his vision. He smirked. So this is how it works. Kill strong enemies, get stronger fast. I like this 'Game.'
He looked around, awaiting the villagers' reaction to his invitation. Any other challengers? Any other 'heroes' want to save the damsel from her husband?
As he expected, nothing happened. The crowd was stunned into silence. Viscoff was dead. A [Level 8] adventurer, folded like laundry by a [Level 1]. No one wanted to be next.
Anthierin, on the other hand, was full of adrenaline.
She quickly grabbed him by the wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. "Get in!" she hissed.
She dragged him inside her house and slammed the door shut, locking it with a heavy thud. She leaned her back against the wood, her chest heaving as she took a deep, shaky breath.
"What's the rush?" Lexel asked, casually inspecting his bloody gauntlets.
"Who are you?!" Anthierin demanded, pushing off the door to face him. Her green eyes were wide, searching his face for answers.
"I've told you my name," Lexel shrugged. "Lexel Torga."
"Nobody ever—EVER—saw a [Level 1] beat... no, kill a [Level 8]!" Anthierin shouted, waving her hands. "With no magic items! No enchanted weapons! Just... hands! Do you know who Viscoff was?"
"A dead guy?" Lexel offered helpfully.
"Not just any dead guy! He is—was—perhaps the most powerful rising star in Bevil!" Anthierin stressed. "He had skills! He had a guild backing him! And you just... snapped his neck like a twig."
"Listen," Lexel sighed, stepping closer. "I don't know what you're getting at, but if this is a roundabout way of saying 'thank you' for saving your life and your dignity... then, you're welcome."
He gave a slight, mock-gentlemanly bow.
Anthierin stared at him. The absurdity of it all washed over her. She sighed, her shoulders slumping.
"Look," she said, stepping forward. "If you were a nobody yesterday, tomorrow everyone will know about you. For better or worse. Viscoff's guild won't take this lying down."
She wrinkled her nose. "And also... you stink. You smell like blood and burnt ozone. Get a bath."
She grabbed his shoulder and shoved him toward a small door in the back. "Wash up. Don't come out until you're clean."
Lexel stumbled into the room. Click. The lock turned from the outside.
"Hey!" Lexel banged on the door once. "Locked? Really?"
He turned around.
It was a bathroom. A simple, wooden tub sat in the center, steaming with hot water. It wasn't as big as the glorious onsens at Empyrean, but the steam smelled of lavender and soap. The walls were rough timber, and some spots near the floor had begun to mold, giving it a natural, rustic aesthetic that Lexel found oddly charming.
He undid his shirt ever so skillfully, wincing as the fabric pulled away from the slash wound on his chest.
He looked in the mirror.
His chest had a new valley. A red, angry line where Viscoff's [Dash Slash] had cut him. It was deep.
The pain is stinging, Lexel thought, touching the edge of the wound. Especially with every heave of my chest. Without my Cultivation to knit the flesh... I'm actually fragile.
He shrugged and stepped into the bath. The hot water stung, then soothed. He sank down until the water reached his chin, letting out a long sigh.
Meanwhile, outside.
Anthierin stood over Viscoff's corpse. The street was empty now; the villagers had scattered, fearful of being associated with the killing.
She retrieved her sword from the dirt. The blade she had forged. The blade Viscoff had insulted. It was stained with his blood now.
Her face was grim. She could see exactly where Lexel put his final strike.
He crushed his neck.
She shuddered. A Level 1 shouldn't have that much physical power. No matter how much Strength stat one exerted. But he did. His gauntlet... his fingers... they penetrated Viscoff's neck muscles like they were dough.
Anthierin extended her hand over the corpse.
"[Firebolt]."
A small, concentrated ball of magic hovered over her palm. She flicked her wrist. The corpse ignited instantly, consumed by magical fire that burned hot and fast, turning flesh to ash in seconds to prevent the smell from attracting monsters—or investigation.
She looked at the burning corpse with an empty gaze. The fire flickered in her green eyes. Then she looked up. A few villagers were watching from their windows, their faces pale with fear.
Great, she thought bitterly. Now they despise me even more. The Blacksmith Witch and her Murderer Husband.
She sighed and walked back inside, slamming the door shut. She rested her forehead against the cool wood. All the weight in the world seemed to rest on her shoulders.
One step at a time, Anthierin. One step at a time.
She put the sword away onto the rack. Then she heard a knock from the bathroom.
She walked over and unlocked the door.
Lexel stood there. Dripping wet. Completely naked.
Anthierin's jade pupils shrank.
The steam curled around him. His body was chiseled marble, honed by years of "War God" training. Water droplets ran down his chest, over his abs, and... lower.
Her lustful desire poked her instantly. Oh my.
But only for a moment. She frowned, crossing her arms. "Get a towel. Or I'll smith that snake of yours into a dagger."
"Oh, right," Lexel laughed, turning around casually. "Sorry."
He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, covering his deadly weapon. All set.
He shuffled back into the workshop.
Anthierin shoved a small glass vial into his hand. It was filled with a swirling red liquid.
"What is this?" Lexel asked, holding it up to the light.
"It's a [Health Potion]," Anthierin said. "Drink it. It will close that chest wound. And... the other one."
"It's not a poison mimicking as one?" Lexel teased. "Don't worry."
"Just drink it," she rolled her eyes.
"A health potion?" Lexel shrugged. He uncorked it and downed it in one gulp. "Well. That was tasteless."
[Hp: Healthy] [Status: Regeneration]
Lexel looked down. He watched, fascinated, as the skin on his chest began to knit itself together. It wasn't instant like high-level healing magic, but it was visible. The pain faded to a dull itch.
This is both incredible and weird, Lexel thought.
Then, a thought struck him. A thought so profound, so Lexel, that he froze.
WAIT A MINUTE. It regenerates torn tissue. What if... what if a loose vagina drinks this? Or takes a bath in it? Won't they be... forever virgin?
"I don't know what you're thinking," Anthierin said, watching his face contort in deep philosophical thought, "but my goosebumps just rose. Stop it."
She turned around and began rummaging through a chest in the corner. "Where is it..."
"What are you looking for?" Lexel asked.
"There it is."
She pulled out a simple, white long-sleeve shirt. She blew the dust off it before standing up. Her eyes mellowed for an instant—a flash of sadness—but she shook her head immediately.
"Yours is torn, right?" she said, pushing the shirt into his chest. "Wear this for now."
Lexel looked at the shirt. It was well-made, but clearly worn.
Whoever this shirt belongs to, Lexel thought, spotting the sadness in her eyes, must have meant a lot to her. A father? A brother? A... real fiancé?
He nodded, respectful of the moment, and entered the bathroom again to change. As he wore the white shirt, he looked at himself in the mirror. It fit well. Perhaps a bit tight in the shoulders.
Ring.
The bell on the shop door rang.
Lexel raised his brows. He swiftly stepped into the workshop, then to the storefront.
There he saw an old man. He had a hunchback, was completely bald, and used a gnarled wooden stick to help his walk steady. But his eyes... his eyes were sharp. Calculating.
"Ah," the old man said, looking Lexel up and down. "So this is the one that you've chosen to be your husband? A fearsome [Level 1]."
"What do you mean?" The Chief smiled, revealing yellow teeth. "I can see the love inside both of his eyes for you. Oh, pardon me. My name is Teddy. I am the Chief of Bevil Village."
"Stop joking around, Chief," Anthierin said, her face flushing a shade of red. "It was all a big misunderstanding to distract Viscoff."
"Does it matter?" Lexel interrupted, stepping forward. "The name's Lexel."
"Of course it does," Anthierin hissed at him.
"Whether true or not, the boy's name is already circulating in Bevil," Teddy said, tapping his stick. "Sooner or later, your ex-fiancée might hear it too. Rumors travel fast."
"So what?" Anthierin crossed her arms. "I got nothing to do with him anymore."
"But does he think the same?" Teddy mused. "But that is a topic for another day. The point of my visit here is actually you, Lexel."
"Me?" Lexel pointed at himself.
"Welcome to Bevil Village," Teddy said, spreading his arms. "This village is [Beginner-Friendly]. The monsters and beasts around are not that high level. Though... I can hardly call you a beginner after what you've done."
He snapped his fingers.
Two bulky men—Level 10 Guards—stepped into the shop from the street. They wore the crest of the village.
"Chief?" Anthierin raised her brows. "Wait... are you going to jail him?"
"What?!" Lexel shouted. "Are you kidding me? I just killed a bad guy! It was self-defense!"
"That's not helping!" Anthierin reprimanded him. She turned to Teddy, desperation in her voice. "Please, Chief. He was just protecting me. Viscoff threatened my life!"
"Rules are rules, child," Teddy said, his voice devoid of sympathy. "Killing inside the village limits is a crime. Seize him."
"Yes, Chief!" the two guards approached Lexel, hands on their hilts.
Lexel's eyes flashed. His killing intent erupted. He could take them. Even without his gauntlets, he could—
Anthierin shook her head. Don't, her eyes pleaded. Don't make it worse.
Lexel gritted his teeth. He let the guards grab his arms.
"How much?" Anthierin asked quickly.
"The bail?" Teddy smiled. "Well... 500G."
"That's too much!" Anthierin gasped. "That's... that's months of work!"
"He killed Viscoff," Teddy shrugged. "That 'ill-mannered' guy has been giving his all to our local Guild, and thus, making me—I mean, the village—more money. He was an asset. Assets are expensive."
"You're kidding..." Anthierin whispered.
Teddy leaned in closer to her. His smile turned greasy.
"Well," he purred, looking her up and down. "If the blacksmith business has been running dry... you can always work as my personal maid to pay off the debt. I have... many needs."
Lexel, being dragged out the door, heard this.
"DON'T DO IT!" Lexel shouted, kicking at the doorframe. "THAT'S AN NTR PLOT!"
The guards dragged him away.
The Village Jail.
Lexel was thrown into a damp, stone cell. The iron bars slammed shut with a final, echoing clang.
He stumbled but didn't fall. His hands were tied with rough rope, but he was nimble enough to stand upright.
Lexel took a deep breath, looking at the rusting bars. He smirked.
"Well, Dad," he whispered to the empty cell. "Looks like I'm finally experiencing what you experienced in your stories. The Classic RPG Jail Start."