The shafeline lay on the ground, half-dead and bloodied. It screeched, a dying bird’s desperate attempt to hold on to life, but the sound was so weak that anyone except for us probably couldn’t hear it.
Jer pulled a spear from her pocket space (a watery air eclipse—inventory) and drove it into the creature’s throat.
Jim muttered, “Sorry we came so late.”
She spat on the ground, her voice sharp, "There are still little monsters around."
I asked, “What about survivors?”
“Check,” she replied, her gaze already scanning the area.
“You lost something?” I pressed.
“Help me look for the kid. She’s a vlandos,” Jer said, before walking off.
Jim raised an eyebrow. “She is…? Oh, that makes sense. But what about the survivors and the little monsters?”
Jer was already dashing away, not bothering to answer him. I turned to Jim, irritation creeping in. “Look around, man!”
He shook his head in annoyance, then pulled out a mark-stone—a portable touch-screen device. He snapped a picture of the monster’s corpse, preparing to send it to the operator to confirm the mission’s completion.
I’d almost forgotten about that. It was a good thing Jim had remembered, since I was the one appointed as team captain for this mission. Not that I was really functioning as one.
Jer-kal-thuli-mal, a fairy, soared high above us, scouting the skies. I sent out my Goryu—my dog-gorilla-shark-like monster—to search for Jer while also keeping an eye out for any monsters.
Goryu began mapping the area, scanning a wide range. I could sense everyone’s presence here—no monsters were alive.
Wait…
There was a foreign smell, unfamiliar and not human. Nothing I could recognize.
Do you know it?
The growl Goryu made indicated uncertainty. Damn it.
I froze, concentrating on the scent. It was strong, but fleeting—appearing for a moment, then vanishing.
But I couldn’t pinpoint its origin…
“Oh, she’s safe. T-that’s good to see. I’m glad she’s safe.”
I turned to find Jer talking to Natasha, who was holding a sleeping but very bloodied Vernisha in her arms.
Jer didn’t seem fazed by the gore around her. She was unharmed. Maybe she had experience with this kind of thing.
Move your fucking ass! These survivors ain’t going to help themselves! Jim’s loud-ass system call broke my thoughts.
Give me a break, I responded mentally, a groan escaping my lips.
It felt like a waste of time and energy to focus on whatever strange thing was going on here. I had more important things to worry about, like giving Nub’ol an excuse for why I couldn’t make it for the date.
Fucking hell. Everything I’d planned for tonight was gone.
Whatever. Time to focus on the survivors.
POV: Lo’jul's Partner, Nub’ol
Men and women moved up and down in the luxurious restaurant, guided by employees dressed in all white.
Almost everyone here was human, except for two elf employees. I respected their ability to adapt. They were hard workers, and you could find an elf in almost any job.
I’d spent most of my time requesting wine whenever the waiter came to ask if I was ready to order.
The green beverage sitting in my glass was hot garbage compared to the alcohol back home. Even if I drank an entire barrel of this 'Jumbie,' I wouldn’t feel so much as tipsy.
They really needed to start ordering some Mal’quisha. It’d probably kill most of them, but at least the taste would feel like godhood. Or maybe just poison. I wasn’t sure.
I tapped the edge of my glass. I’d reached the limit of entertaining myself.
Where the hell was that man?
I glanced at my watch. Thirty minutes to 14:00.
Sigh. Of course, on the day I’d taken work leave…
I guess he’d gotten caught up with work again, like always.
Sometimes work was slow for him. Those days were the best. Even though we didn’t fuck like rabbits anymore, like when we were younger, it still felt good to cook breakfast and lunch together. We’d go out to the garden, disappointed to find that the birds had stolen the ripening fruits, and just be around each other.
Not talking. Not doing anything. Just sitting next to each other with my legs resting on his chest or lap, of course.
But when work was busy, it was busy. He’d be gone for days. When he was really unlucky, weeks.
It didn’t help when you heard about how many cheating scandals adventurers got themselves into.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
You don’t hear, ‘Hey, your man might cheat on you while he’s deployed.’
It’s: “Oh, what does he do for a living?”
‘He’s an adventurer.’
They’d get this surprised look, followed by pity. Then they’d say, in the nicest way possible, “From one woman to another,” they’d say.
-
“He’s definitely going to cheat on you.”
-
“Think about it. He’s gone for days, weeks, sometimes months, with only a few people. At least one of them is going to be a woman, and you know no one is turning down a goddamn vlandos. So, it’s gonna start with some flirting. Some joking. Some bonding. Then... oops, some fucking.”
-
“There are stats on it. They fuck a lot, all the time. Hell, probably more than those in the military.”
It was enough to drive you crazy, to make you second-guess everything. But sometimes, you just had to say, “No, my man is different.” Even though you felt like shit inside. It hurt worse when I remembered that Vlandos women were all insanely beautiful and, more often than not, fucking bitches.
If you were a regular and your partner was Vlandos, it was like someone had painted a hot target on their head. The sexual advances—and the pictures of them in bed, naked, with someone else—weren’t about the other person. It was about breaking the relationship. Proving, ‘He’s messing with a regular person.’
I’d tell myself, Sorry, I believe in him. But even diamonds could crack under pressure.
I missed the days when I was a teenager—before I knew how common such behaviors were, before I understood why people did it.
But damn, here I was, overthinking again.
A waiter came to my table. “Miss, I think an hour has passed…”
I sat up straight. “You’re right. Sorry for wasting your time.”
“Hopefully, you’ll be back. Maybe buying an extra hour will be in your husband’s best interest.”
I adjusted the gem-spotted white fur coat around my shoulders. “I’ll tell him that.”
I was pissed, annoyed, and embarrassed. Everyone had seen me sitting there, waiting forever, like some elderly lady who’d lost her husband and visited their old favorite spot to reminisce.
But whatever. It’s not like he’s at fault. If he could be here, he would. I was sure he was thinking of ways to make it up to me.
The thought, What if he’s with another woman right now, flitted across my mind, but I kicked it away.
As I made my way toward the exit, some people’s attention was drawn to my unique piece of jewelry—a nose chain. A gold chain circled the crown of my head, with the centerpiece extending to my nose and holding an emerald.
Hm.
I took a deep breath, letting go of the intrusive thoughts people tried to plant in my head, and pushed my own insecurities deeper into my heart.
I just hoped he was alive, and that the mission was going smoothly.
POV: Lo’jul
Jim and I found all the survivors. Only twenty. Five men, eight kids, and the rest were women. One didn’t even have family. The kids explained that their fathers had been the first to die, trying to give the others a chance to escape, then the mothers died, and finally the older siblings.
It was a total shitshow. These guys needed their minds wiped. All of them. I wondered how many would even protest.
What choice did they have, anyway? Go see a therapist? With what money? The hospitals wouldn’t pay for it, especially when the guild was footing the bill for mind erasure.
One little boy, no older than eight, trembled with every breath. His fingers shook, though not as badly as his father’s. He was scared of everything—the sounds, the world around him.
I felt for him. Trauma wasn’t something to joke about. I’d never experienced anything truly traumatic as a kid, or as a teenager. Maybe my parents’ divorce? Or how my mother’s mother always treated my father like shit because he wasn’t wealthy?
My upbringing had been good enough that those things were the worst I’d ever faced.
The first time I saw real horror—the first time I fought a monster as an adventurer—I was sure there had to be devils, evil gods, or something just as awful. I just knew it. As cruel as nature could be, monsters couldn’t have come from it. I’d said it before and I’d say it again every time I saw shit like this: the mother of monsters myth had to be real.
Some truly twisted bastard had to have created them, thinking, I’m going to make these evil fuckers because I hate people with a passion.
Yeah, I get it—it’s punishment for humanity’s sins—but fuck off. Every living being had to pay for what humans did? That shit was crazy.
These monsters could tell when you were new, when you didn’t know what the hell you were doing. They’d target you, tear you apart, eat you alive just for the fun of it.
Being an adventurer either gave you balls of steel or sent you to an early grave, or left you a shell of your former self. Sometimes the fear never really went away. The body remembered it, maybe because of some monster skill or something.
I know the first time I met a monster, I wanted to run. No amount of money could make that worth it.
Anyway, I left Jim to tend to the survivors. I’d done what I could, but I was a punchio. It was better for them to get comfort from someone they could relate to more.
When I reached Natasha, I found Vernisha standing by her side. There were bloodstains on the sides of her face, her ears must’ve been bleeding.
“How’s she doing?” I asked.
“Alive,” Natasha replied, her voice flat and emotionless.
She was stressed—no surprise there. Nub’ol always acted the same way when something was bothering her.
“Sorry we couldn’t keep her safe,” I said, meaning it.
“As long as she’s alive, I’m happy.” Natasha turned toward Jer. “Thank you, again.”
“Yes, of course. I’m grateful to Vernisha, too. She saved my life.”
“She did, huh? That’s good to hear.”
I left them to talk, then remembered they’d come with others.
“Where are your other friends?” I asked.
Natasha looked into the distance where the dense grass and trees met. “One’s alive.”
I followed her gaze. Damn, I’d been hoping to avoid this, but whatever. I walked between the towering trees, stepping over wild vines and dead branches. Then I came across—what the hell?
The trees in one direction were completely gone. The soil was bare, no leaves, no sign of aging. It looked like something had blown the trees out of existence and replaced everything.
I saw a man, unconscious but alive. I walked over and shook him awake.
He blinked in confusion, his body slumped, tired. I wanted to ask, What the hell happened here?
But then I thought, Do I really want to deal with this? To lose more time with my wife? To get involved in whatever this is?
I didn’t want to, but leaving it unchecked could come back to haunt everyone. Since I was already here, I might as well get some answers.
I asked him what had happened. He tried to speak but couldn’t. After a moment, he gave up, staring blankly ahead. “I don’t know. Can’t remember anything. Julus!”
He forced himself to look around, panic setting in. “Julus!”
I figured that was one of his dead friends. Maybe his son, since he looked older.
I pointed to the three corpses nearby. Their stomachs were exposed, their bodies half-eaten.
When the man saw it, he was shocked. I didn’t say anything to him.
He didn’t break down or cry, though. He just stared.
How strange, I thought. He couldn’t remember what had happened, not even a little. And somehow, this bizarre event had only occurred here. Since he was alive and the other three weren’t, something must have been protecting him, or perhaps he was saved by whatever had killed the monster for reasons unknown.
I tried to gather some clues, but there was nothing.
Asking him questions seemed pointless. My monster couldn’t detect anything else related to the strange smell or the odd circumstances here.
Maybe I really shouldn’t press further, I thought. This is risky. I’ll report it to the guild.
I returned to the others, bringing the man with me, of course.
Jer was still standing by the woman and the little girl, while Jim wasn’t talking to the survivors. Honestly, they probably didn’t want to talk at all.
The wind blew and the air whistled. The mission was done.
Normally, I would’ve called Nub’ol and told her when I’d be home, but I had forgotten my personal pyramid communicator at home.
So, for a while, I just stood there, waiting. Then Jer looked up at me.
'Take the family to the capital,' she told me, her lips not moving.