The soldier didn't even look at her. He kicked a small wooden crate over, spilling the few remaining turnips into the mud. He laughed as the woman scrambled to pick them up.
"Then tell them to pray harder to their silent gods. Lord Valerius doesn't accept 'prayers' as payment. He accepts things he can sell. Move! Next in line!"
I felt a surge of hot, corporate rage—the kind I used to feel when my boss took credit for my team's hard work while cutting our bonuses to pay for his new car. My fists clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to scream, to reveal myself, to blast that soldier with a bolt of divine light.
"So this is how the 'civilized' world works," Arkael said, his voice a cold vibration in my ear. He was standing perfectly still, but I could feel the heat of his anger radiating from under his cloak.
"Your priests and kings are no different from the demons of the Abyss. They just have better tailors and use prettier words to describe their theft. Shall I kill him for you? It would be a mercy to the world."
"Keep your hood down, Arkael," I hissed, catching his arm. His muscles felt like carved stone. "We need to find the orphanage. We can't help anyone if we get into a fight with an entire army before we find the beast. Keep your eyes on the mission."
We followed the sound of a low, rhythmic sobbing to the edge of the village, away from the main road. There, standing alone near a grove of dying willow trees that dipped their branches into a stagnant pond, was a long, rectangular building.
The white paint was peeling away in large flakes, and half the windows were boarded up with scrap wood. This was the Weeping Willow Orphanage. It looked more like a prison than a home.
[ Mission Update: Target Acquired ]
[ Threat Level: Rising ]
[ Environmental Analysis: Fear levels are high. The shadow-beast is feeding. ]
As we approached the rusted iron fence, I saw them. About a dozen children, the oldest no more than ten years old, were huddled in the dirt yard. They weren't playing or laughing.
They were sitting in the shadows, their faces pale and their eyes sunken with the kind of exhaustion no child should ever know. A young woman in a faded blue dress—Elena, the headmistress—was trying to distribute small, thin pieces of dry bread. She was smiling, but it was a brittle, fake smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"It's not enough," I whispered, my heart aching with a physical pain. In my old life, I complained if my lunch order was five minutes late or if my latte didn't have enough foam. These kids hadn't had a full meal in weeks, and yet they were sharing what little they had.
Suddenly, a loud, crashing sound came from the front of the orphanage. A man on a white horse, wearing a velvet cape and a feathered hat, rode right through the small garden, crushing the few rows of vegetables they had managed to grow. Behind him were four armed guards, their horses' hooves churning the soil into a muddy mess.
"Mistress Elena!" the man shouted, his voice dripping with a false, oily concern. He didn't even bother to dismount. "I hear you are once again behind on your land lease. This property belongs to the Valerius estate, and we simply cannot have such an eyesore on our borders. It lowers the value of the surrounding woods."
Elena stepped forward, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She was trembling, but her voice was brave.
"Lord Valerius, please. The children are sick. We have nothing left to give you. Your men took the last of our winter stores this morning! We are eating the seeds we were meant to plant!"
The noble laughed, a high-pitched, irritating sound that reminded me of a hyena.
"Then perhaps it is time to close this 'charity' and send these runts to the mines. My hounds need a new kennel for the winter hunting season, and this building has excellent bones. You have three days to vacate the premises, or my men will assist you... forcefully. I hear the slave traders in the south are looking for fresh labor."
He turned his horse sharply, the animal's heavy flank brushing against a small boy who had wandered too close to the gate. The boy fell into the mud, crying out in terror. The noble didn't even look back as he rode away, his guards laughing at the boy's struggle.
I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. It was Arkael. His grip was like iron, and through the fabric of my cloak, I could feel the intense, burning heat of his fury. He wasn't just annoyed anymore; he was insulted.
"The shadow-beast is not the only monster in this valley, Goddess," he said, his red eyes glowing like lasers beneath his hood. "The beast in the woods eats the flesh. The beast on the horse eats the soul. Shall I tear his heart out now? It would take less than a second. I can smell the rot in his blood from here. It would be a pleasure to show him what real terror looks like."
I looked at the noble's retreating back, then at the crying children and the broken garden. Every instinct in me wanted to say yes. The Manager in me wanted to plan, to strategize, to find a diplomatic solution that would save the village.
But the Goddess in me—the one fueled by the old man's pure, desperate faith—wanted to see that noble crawl in the mud.
"Not yet," I whispered, my voice sounding colder than I ever thought possible. "If we kill him now, the soldiers will burn this village to the ground in retaliation before we can establish our power. We have to do this the right way. We save the children from the beast first. We show them a miracle. We make them believe. Then... we deal with the 'Lord'."
I looked at the system screen, my mind racing through the inventory of what I could manifest.
[ New Mission Sub-Objective: Restore Hope ]
[ Strategy: Provide Sustenance and Protection ]
[ Warning: The Sun is setting. The Shadow-Beast is moving. ]
"Arkael," I said, turning to him. His face was a mask of dark anticipation. "Forget being a guard dog for a moment. Can you feel the beast? Is it close?"
Arkael tilted his head, his nostrils flaring as he tasted the air. He looked toward the dark, twisted woods behind the orphanage, where the shadows of the willow trees seemed to be stretching and moving on their own.
"It is circling. It feeds on their fear, and right now, the fear is thick enough to drown in. It is waiting for the sun to drop below the horizon. It is a cowardly thing, a bottom-feeder of the darkness that only strikes when its prey is at its weakest."
"Then we wait for the sun to set too," I said, my voice hardening. "But first, we're going to give those kids a 'miracle' they'll never forget. I'm going to need more than just noodles for this. Arkael, stay in the shadows. I'm going in."
I walked toward the orphanage gate, my mortal boots clicking on the wet stones. I wasn't just a traveler anymore. I was a woman with a mission, a King of Hell at my back, and a heart full of divine fury. The secret journey was over. It was time to start managing this mess with the power of a goddess.