Vincent woke with a start under the endless blue sky. All he could remember was a blinding flash and a stabbing pain in his chest—yes, like he’d been stabbed. That’s why it took him a few seconds to realize how strange it was that he was outside. He shot to his feet, his eyes practically bulging from their sockets. Grass under his hands. The panic was overwhelming, but his companions were there, by his side.

  “Hey, hey,” Ayame said calmly. She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “Easy.”

  Vincent swallowed hard.

  “What happened?”

  They were alive, at least, and they were out, so the situation couldn’t be that bad.

  “What happened? I remember I destroyed the core. Or did I?"

  “Yes, yes, eh, it exploded. You were sent flying and knocked unconscious.”

  “Did you abandon the mission because of me?”

  He didn’t want to hear the answer. It was the natural thing to do for a team member. If he had had to do it for either of them, he would have done it without a second thought, without blinking or questioning it. It was the fair thing, the right thing, what it meant to be on a team. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to hear the answer. He had already felt bad enough staying behind while Ayame and Elizabeth fought for him.

  “No,” Ayame replied, “we finished it. Or rather, you finished it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Finished, unconscious. Or was there a gap in his memories? Had he woken up before, gotten up, done something, but now didn’t even remember it? The idea was unsettling. Brain damage wasn’t so easy to fix, even with magic.

  “When you destroyed the core,” Elizabeth said, “the Golem collapsed, which caused a significant cave-in, enough to meet the quest requirements in any case.”

  [Quest Complete: Goblin Subjugation!]

  Primary Objective: Cull the goblin population in the Whisperwood Caverns. [Complete]

  Bonus Objective: Defeat the Golem. [Complete]

  [You have gained 100 EXP!]

  Right, one cave-in after another, the goblins suffocating under the rubble or being crushed in mass. The quest was to kill goblins, to keep their numbers under control, not to exterminate them, which was difficult, if not impossible. So it made sense.

  Vincent nodded.

  “Couldn't you have warned me that it would explode?”

  “That’s true,” Tara said.

  Elizabeth frowned, crossing her arms.

  “I would have if I knew.”

  “I thought you were some kind of expert.”

  “And I am, which is why I can tell you that golem cores aren’t supposed to explode like that. What happened?”

  “By the way,” Ayame added, “what was a golem doing in a goblin cave?”

  Elizabeth could only shrug.

  “I have no idea,” she admitted freely. “If you have any ideas, I’m willing to hear them. They’ll be as good as mine, because this is new territory, for me, at least.”

  She was the student council president, but she wasn’t a professor; she was just another student. They couldn’t expect her to know everything.

  “I guess it’s not our business,” Tara said. “We did our job, we collect the reward, and that’s it. If there’s something more to this, let the proper authorities investigate.”

  They were all just students. That wasn't their role. He wasn't going to be the only one left with a bad taste in his mouth from leaving things half-finished, but that's how things were. Trying to do more than they could or should would surely not lead them down a good path. They already had enough problems without looking for more.

  “Help me up,” he was about to say, but as if she had sensed it, Ayame was already taking his hand and shoulder, pulling him up. Well, what was so strange about that? They were a team; they should be well-coordinated.

  Time to collect the reward? Then back to the room to close his eyes?

  Or maybe not. Maybe not. He didn’t want to dream.

  They returned to the hotel and their assigned room. Yes, no seedy inns. Everything was an improvement in the capital. Even the field study was turning out to be bearable, for now, more or less. Vincent dropped onto his bed, an arm over his eyes. The light was very bright. It bothered him. Well, almost everything bothered him.

  “What do we do now?” Elizabeth said, falling back onto her own bed.

  Vincent decided that honesty was the best move.

  “My head is splitting. I don’t want to do anything dangerous, at least.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  Even with an arm over his eyes, he could feel the pressure of a gaze on him. Ayame was looking at him. He didn’t have to lower his arm to be sure, but he lowered it anyway, confirming his suspicions. Her gaze was as piercing as ever. It seemed to see right through him, completely.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” she said finally.

  “What did you say?”

  Ayame sat down next to him, her hands gripping the edge of the bed.

  “Let me finish. I know you feel bad for not having fought the golem directly and for losing consciousness on top of that. But don’t be an idiot. You contributed, and more than Elizabeth and I, who could only distract it. Besides, anyone would have been knocked out by the explosion. Or worse. You thought fast. That saved your neck.”

  Vincent took a deep breath. And boy, had she seen. And boy, had she seen through him. Boy, had she. He could try to lie or deflect the conversation, but it would be useless. She had him figured out and she wasn’t going to let go. Besides, what was wrong with admitting it? He was surrounded by friends. Not predators who would tear his throat out at the first sign of weakness.

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Yeah. Damn, you know me so well.”

  Ayame shrugged.

  “I do what I can.”

  “Do you really feel bad about that?” Tara asked, as if she couldn’t believe it.

  He glanced at her. He frowned. He knew it was ridiculous. He knew Ayame was right. Although she had sweetened things a bit, in the end, he had contributed. He had been instrumental in this victory. He had no reason to feel ashamed or diminished in the slightest. But knowing and feeling were two very different things. Therefore, yes.

  “Ugh,” Tara huffed. “Men. Heads inflated, swollen with pride. Most of the time, unearned.”

  He couldn’t deny it. But for him, it wasn’t a matter of pride. It wasn’t simple stubbornness.

  “You know that…” his voice trembled slightly. He bit his cheek, the inside of his cheek, as if to keep it under control. The pain helped him focus. The pain was a reminder of what was important. “You know I need to…”

  He didn’t finish the sentence. He simply couldn’t talk about it. Not in front of Elizabeth. They might have been together for a very short time, they had barely spoken, but he considered her a good friend. Still, the Student Council President would uphold the rules of Runehaven, no matter how much she personally cared for him—it was her responsibility. He had been wrong about Ayame and Tara. He had kept the secret, needlessly. Elizabeth was a good person, but she wouldn’t look the other way. Despite that, or perhaps precisely because of it, he had no doubt.

  “What is it?” Elizabeth asked, crossing her legs.

  “You know,” Tara began, unable to look him in the eyes. She was making it too obvious. Her gaze drifted downwards. “He has certain… complexes.” On top of that, she glanced at him.

  Vincent clicked his tongue. He covered his eyes with his forearm again.

  “From growing up in an NPC village.”

  The truth could come out at any moment. It was perhaps a matter of time, like a time bomb with an invisible countdown. He didn’t like to talk about it. He wasn’t ashamed, or anything like that, but he didn’t like to talk about it.

  Elizabeth nodded, slowly and after a moment. He wondered what was going through her mind. She let him know soon enough.

  “You feel like you have something to prove. I think you’ve already proven enough. The initiation test, your academic and training fight performance. The first field study, not to mention the stupid fight with the young lady’s brother here. You almost didn’t make it, but I understand. I suppose all students feel the same.” Elizabeth stood up. She walked to the window, placing her hands on the sill. The window was ajar, so a bit of air stirred her hair, and the sun hit it at just the right angle to make it look even more beautiful. “But,” Elizabeth continued, “have you ever wondered if it’s the other way around?”

  Vincent lowered his arm again.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “A true knight… what is that anyway? NPCs exist to be the foundation of society: agriculture, the weapons we use in our work, the economy. For the most part, society depends on them, and we, the combat classes, have to protect them. That is our true purpose. But how many of us think about that? How many truly understand it? You have lived among them. You truly know what we are protecting, in a way that no one can match. Doesn’t that make you a better knight?”

  Vincent swallowed. His mouth was dry. Suddenly, his mouth was dry. If he had been raised as a knight in an NPC village, for real, those would have been the perfect words to save him. His misfortune was just a convenient lie. She couldn’t understand him, although she was clearly trying to. And the hand she was extending was only touching a ghost. But, no, even so, he felt the touch, he felt a warmth. Because she simply cared. Sometimes that’s all it takes.

  Vincent swallowed again.

  “It had never occurred to me, no. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, silly.” Her smile widened so much it made her look younger. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  Vincent returned her smile with all the feeling he could muster.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  It hurt, but he couldn’t help it. There was a wall between them. If he tried to tear it down, everything else would come crashing down. Not unlike the wall that now existed between Ayame and him. A wall built with his own hands. Ayame wasn’t ready to answer him yet. And, honestly, he was starting to wish he had never confessed.

  He didn't have to love her; it was enough to be by her side, growing closer.

  But he couldn't go back now, of course. And with Elizabeth, he couldn't move forward. This was all they could ever have. The closest their friendship would ever be. Because she would never know the real him.

  Damned if he did, damned if he didn't. Damned all around, basically.

  Damn, how depressing, he thought.

  Of course. After collecting the reward and before returning to the hotel, they had informed the competent authorities about the Golem. It was too strange. It was worth investigating, but it wasn't their business. As bad as it felt to leave things half-finished, he had to get used to it. This job, because that’s what it was in the end, a job, had more endings like this than explosive and climatic ones, like something out of an adventure book. The sooner he got his feet on the ground, the better.

  Most likely, they would never know why the golem had been there. Even if someone found out, it would be a process, and they wouldn't be staying in the capital for that long. They still didn't know how long this second field study would last, but it was impossible for them to stay long enough, unless the authorities got damn lucky. And, well, that was fine. He didn't have to know. His head was splitting. That wasn't what was worrying him. He was more worried about resting and preparing for the next, inevitable quest, which he hoped to choose more carefully than the last. What had really screwed them over hadn't been written on paper, but he preferred not to think about that. Otherwise, the fear would be so paralyzing as to not let him take a step in any direction. He had to be realistic, no more, no less.

  Ending the workday, perhaps a bit prematurely, his group left the hotel right away. They didn't doze off or anything, they didn't take a short nap, but they were just going to explore the capital like any other tourists. The crowds were enormous. The population density was unimaginably greater than four or five Runehavens. The place had taken his breath away the first time he saw it. So many noises, colors, and smells. Navigating through the crowds was almost claustrophobic, but he believed it was something he could get used to quickly.

  The real problem, what hurt him, were the NPCs. He had no right, not after putting so much effort into pretending to be someone else. But it hurt him a little. It hurt him anyway, the way they levitated, wary, and quickly opened a path. He was tall, broad, and well-equipped, so of course he looked the part of a knight, a combat class. A superior class, in quotation marks. He was so desperate not to be one of them, but at the same time, it hurt to be set apart in this way. Pathetic. Natural, maybe. Pathetic. He had made a decision and accepted its consequences. There was nothing more to say. Not the slightest possibility of going back either. Even though the reactions of these people, his people, were making him feel like a completely different person, in the worst possible ways.

  Fortunately, the world provided him with a pretty good excuse. On the way to a supposedly great restaurant—he suspected he wouldn't get to check it out—they noticed there was a lot of noise, even more, especially in certain nearby streets. They got closer and it became clear why. The royal family was taking a stroll through the capital, but of course, not for fun or like any other citizen. They were crossing it in a procession with hundreds of men: the king and queen in front and a little behind, the princess, young, more or less his age and very pretty. He couldn't help but think about that.

  Ayame was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, but the princess wasn't far behind. It was obvious what it was: not just good genes, but more money than she could spend in her entire life. She looked like what she was, a princess, all radiant. Except for the smile, that didn't reach her eyes. But she was playing her part. It seemed like a lonely throne, but he had no intention of pitying her. Vincent frowned. Because... because he was going to. As he had said, she had more money than she could spend in a lifetime. She could do whatever she wanted, the limit was her imagination. From her position, it was absolute freedom, what he dreamed of. Of course, he wasn't stupid. He knew that being an important member of the royal family—not the fourteenth in line or something—came with many responsibilities and expectations. But what were ceremonies like these compared to what normal, humble people had to sacrifice just to get to the next day. There was no comparison. So no, he would not pity that girl. Lonely or not, he envied her. He wasn't being harsh, it was a sane reaction, period.

  Still, it must be difficult. So what? Life wasn't easy for anyone. Life wasn't...

  [New Quest: Stop the princess's assassination!]

  ...a bed of roses.

  His heart jumped into his throat. But what? What the hell