The midday sun beat down as Nick and Ray stepped out of the training grounds. Ray’s borrowed robe was still pristine and untouched, swaying lightly in the breeze. Thanks to the ‘Indestructible’ enchantment from Nick’s wardrobe, not a thread was out of place, no matter how many times she got slammed into the dirt like a sack of potatoes. If not for the streaks of dried blood on her face, there’d be no sign she’d just been treated like a rag doll in a fight.
Nick ran a hand through his hair, which was matted with sweat—not from any physical effort, but from the sheer mental exhaustion of watching Ray treat a fight like a playground brawl. When she bit the trainer’s shoulder, he was sure that their cover was blown…
He gave her a sidelong glance, exhaling in disbelief. “You promised you wouldn’t bite anybody.”
Ray blinked at Nick, her mismatched eyes glinting with innocence beneath her hood. Her eyes widened in exaggerated horror, and she gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.
“Oops! I’m sorry!” she whispered, her voice dripping with mock contrition, as if biting someone was a minor slip-up like forgetting to say ‘thank you’.
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose, a laugh bubbling up despite himself. “You’re not sorry.”
She peeked from behind her hands, her lips curving into a mischievous grin. “Okay, maybe not. But it did work.”
Nick let out a groan, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You’re lucky that he didn’t ask any questions. Next time, though—no biting. I mean it.”
Her grin widened. “Not even a little bit?”
“Not even a little bit,” he replied firmly.
‘She seems to think that this is all a game…’ He’d give her one more chance before he stopped taking the gentle approach.
“Then I’m not showing you my new skills,” she replied, feigning offense.
“That’s fine. Let’s hit the market before finding an inn. We need some food and you need to clean up.”
Ray nodded eagerly. “I want to try meat that isn’t burned.”
Nick stared at her flatly. “You’re the one who burnt it.”
She smiled. “Your cooking sucks.”
He sighed. “You’ve never tasted anybody else’s cooking before. I’m perfectly average.”
She shrugged. “Well, then ‘average’ sucks.”
“You suck!”
“Wasn’t that not allowed?”
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. “…Damn it.”
***
The two wandered through the streets, following the scent of grilled meats and baked bread carried by the breeze.
As they rounded a corner, they found themselves in another sprawling marketplace, separate from the one near the front gate. The plaza was alive with the buzz of traders hawking their wares. Colorful awnings stretched above wooden stalls laden with fruits, vegetables, spices, and trinkets. Merchants called out from all directions, their voices blending into a chaotic but vibrant symphony.
Ray’s eyes sparkled beneath her hood as she took it all in, her gaze darting between stalls with a childlike fascination.
Nick scanned the marketplace, making a mental note of the exits and potential trouble spots. His eyes lingered briefly on a tavern sign in the distance—a potential spot to secure some rooms for the night.
“Stay close,” he said quietly. “We need to figure out how much money we have before we get too excited.”
Ray gave a tiny nod, though her attention was already drifting toward a vendor selling skewers of roasted meat.
Nick reached into his pocket, pulling out a pouch filled with coins—courtesy of the bandits he killed a week or so ago. He weighed the pouch in his palm, frowning. He had no idea what the local currency was worth.
They approached a stall selling bread, and Nick cleared his throat to get the merchant’s attention. “How much for a loaf?”
The vendor, a stout woman with weathered hands, eyed Nick’s clothes with mild curiosity but didn’t comment. “Two silvers,” she said, holding up two fingers.
Nick reached into the pouch and pulled out a handful of mixed coins. He handed her two silver-colored coins. The merchant inspected the coins, her expression unreadable, then gave a short nod. “Good enough,” she said, handing over the bread.
Nick slipped the rest of the coins back into the pouch. “Alright, now we’ve got some kind of baseline.” Unless this merchant was ripping them off, the starting set of skills at the guilds sold for roughly fifty loaves of bread.
He handed the bread to Ray, who immediately tore off a piece and stuffed it into her mouth.
Her eyes lit up. “Wow… this doesn’t suck!”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Small victories…”
They continued deeper into the marketplace, weaving through the crowd. As they passed stalls selling everything from spices to enchanted trinkets, Nick noticed a shift in the atmosphere. The lively chatter dulled, and the crowd thinned as if people were deliberately avoiding a particular area.
His gaze followed the gap in the crowd—and then he saw them.
A grim display stood beneath a worn canopy near the edge of the market. Beastkin with ears flattened against their heads, an orc with tusks cracked and yellow, and a hulking troll hunched awkwardly under the weight of thick iron chains. Each of them stood in silence, their wrists bound by heavy shackles as if even the idea of resistance had long since been beaten out of them. The scent of unwashed bodies and iron filled the air, a smell that clung to the back of Nick’s throat.
A merchant stood beside the display, barking orders and jabbing a stick at the slaves to keep them in line. The beastkin flinched when they were struck, their gazes low, shoulders slumped. The passersby kept a wide berth from the scene, sparing only brief glances before hurrying on.
Nick’s jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists, and his heart hammered in his chest. He had seen many kinds of cruelty before, and this wasn’t his first time seeing slavery.
Ray slowed beside him, her gaze locked on the slaves. “Are they the same as the green man from before?” she asked quietly, her voice carrying both confusion and a hint of anger.
Nick exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. “Similar,” he muttered.
Her eyes darkened, her playful curiosity giving way to something sinister. “Are you going to do something about it?”
He shook his head. “I’m not a hero,” he replied bitterly. “I can’t be a hero again.”
“Do you have to be a hero to help people?”
“No…” Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, you don’t have to be a hero to help people… but helping them means getting involved. It means consequences. And I’ve seen what happens when you try to help without being able to handle the consequences.”
Ray studied him, her mismatched eyes unblinking beneath her hood. “But you helped me,” she said softly, her voice steady. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“That’s… different. You’re different.”
“Because I can fight?” she asked, her gaze flickering between the slaves and Nick. “Or because I don’t break when people hit me?”
“Neither,” Nick replied. “It’s because if I didn’t help you… well… let’s just say that it was the right thing for me to do at the time.” His words sounded weak even to his own ears. It wasn’t the whole truth, and he could tell that she knew that.
“So, teacher. If I’m understanding correctly, it’s okay to help when it feels right, but not when it’s hard?” Her expression was calm, but her words cut with a quiet precision. “Maybe I’m not one to talk, but that’s a strange way to think.”
Nick clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up. “You don’t get it, Ray. You don’t know what it’s like to try and fail. To think you’re making things better only to watch everything crumble around you. I’ve been a hero before. I’ll never make that mistake again.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head. “I get it.”
Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head in disappointment.
“You’re afraid.”
Her words struck him like thunder. He stiffened and immediately rejected her claim. “It’s not fear. It’s experience.”
Her gaze drifted back to the slaves. The beastkin girl trembled as the merchant barked at her again, a whip cracking near her feet. Ray’s eyes darkened, but she didn’t move. Her hands twitched at her sides as if she was weighing what to do.
“Maybe…” Ray whispered, almost to herself. “Maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be a hero. I’m not asking you to be a hero, either. But you promised to teach me. I’m trusting you to show me the best way to conduct myself. I don’t know anything, and yet even I can tell that this is wrong. Even so, are you really going to stand by and do nothing?”
Nick’s heart twisted at her words, memories flashing through his mind—of battles fought, people saved, and everything he’d lost along the way. He felt the familiar ache in his chest, the weight of guilt that could never go away.
“I can’t save everyone,” he whispered, more to himself than to Ray.
“No,” she agreed. “Not yet. But you can save someone.”
He didn’t reply, the silence between them thick with unspoken tension. He knew Ray was right—her childlike simplicity cut through the layers of bitterness and regret that clouded his thoughts. But it didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t ready to dive headfirst into someone else’s fight again. Not yet.
He wasn’t strong enough, mentally or physically.
Ray gave him a small, almost mischievous smile, though her eyes were still dark with anger. “It’s okay, you don’t have to teach me everything. I’ll learn how to help them on my own.”
Nick’s breath hitched. He wasn’t sure if it was a promise or a threat—but it unsettled him either way. There was something in Ray’s eyes, something fierce and untamed, like a flame waiting to catch and burn everything in its path.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s take this one step at a time. For starters, we need to get through a single day without causing trouble.”
Her grin returned, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay. No biting, right?”
Nick snorted. “Not even a little.”
Her hands twitched at her sides as if she were holding back only because he asked her to.
He shook his head as they turned away from the slave stall. But the moment lingered between them—Ray’s quiet resolve and Nick’s uneasy acceptance.
The scent of iron and fear clung to the air, sticking to his skin like sweat.
‘A god should act.’ The thought flickered in the back of his mind, unbidden and unwelcome, but it withered under the weight of experience. He wasn’t ready—not yet.
As they moved deeper into the marketplace, Nick’s mind kept circling back to the slave stall and Ray’s words echoing in his head.
‘When did I become a coward? I feel like I lost something important somewhere along the way, and I only just noticed it…’
He would need to think about it a little longer before taking any action. At the end of the day, he did reincarnate in this world as a god. Maybe he couldn’t do anything today, but nobody said he wouldn’t be able to tomorrow, or the next day, or a year from now.
“One step at a time…” he muttered to himself.
The bustling noise of the marketplace slowly enveloped them again as they left the grim slave display behind. Nick let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension that had settled over him.
“We need to find an inn,” he said. “Get some food, clean up, figure out what we’re going to do next.”
Ray gave a small nod, her eyes scanning the stalls with renewed curiosity. “Can I eat more bread?”
Nick gave her a sidelong glance, his lips tugging into a faint smirk. “We’ll get something better than bread. But first, we need a place to stay.”
He’d identified a tavern earlier, but it was too close to the slave stall for his liking. He’d rather not see something so unpleasant every time they left the inn during their stay here.
They wove their way through the crowd, the vibrant chatter and enticing aromas of the marketplace doing little to lift his mood. After a few minutes of wandering, they spotted a modest-looking inn tucked between two bustling shops. A wooden sign depicting a frothy mug and a loaf of bread swayed gently in the breeze. The words The Copper Flask were carved underneath in weathered letters.
Nick pushed the door open, the soft creak of wood greeting them as they stepped inside. The scent of roasted meat and spiced ale filled the room, mingling with the low hum of conversation. The inn’s common area was cozy, with rough-hewn wooden tables scattered around and a small hearth crackling in the corner.
A stout older woman with graying hair stood behind the bar, polishing a tankard. Her sharp eyes flicked toward them as they entered. “Looking for a room, or just a meal?” she asked, her tone brisk but not unfriendly.
“Both,” Nick replied, approaching the counter. He pulled the coin pouch from his pocket and set it down. “How much for two rooms? A maybe some lunch?”
The woman eyed him with a calculating glance, her gaze drifting briefly to Ray. Nick didn’t miss the subtle narrowing of her eyes at Ray’s hood. “Two rooms, eh? I’ve not got many left. Sure you weren’t planning to share?”
“I’m a married man,” Nick replied evenly. “The faithful kind as well, for whatever it’s worth.”
The woman let out a dry chuckle, tapping her fingers on the counter. “Rare breed, that.” She gave a curt nod. “Five silvers per night for two rooms, meals included.”
Nick fished out a gold coin and slid it across the counter. “How many silvers to a gold?”
Her eyes widened, and she quickly covered the coin with her palm as if worried that someone might see it. “A hundred to a gold, give or take. This’ll cover three weeks for the both of you. Since you paid in advance, laundry’s on the house on Saturdays.”
Ray leaned over the counter, eyeing the hand covering the gold coin with interest. “A hundred silvers,” she whispered. “That’s a lot of bread…”
Nick shot her a look. “It’s not just for bread.”
The innkeeper grinned. “Why not? Rooms are up the stairs, second and third doors on the right. I’ll have food ready shortly. Would you like to eat in your rooms or down here?”
“Down here is fine.”
“Then after you get your stuff settled in your room, take a seat anywhere.”
Nick nodded his thanks, then turned to Ray. “Let’s go get cleaned up and settled in.”
She followed him silently as they climbed the creaky wooden stairs. The hallway above was dimly lit, with a faint smell of dust and wood polish lingering in the air. They reached the doors to their respective rooms.
Nick opened his door and examined the inside. The room was small but functional—a simple bed with clean linens, a wooden chest at the foot, and a tiny window offering a narrow view of the street below. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
He stepped out and wandered over to Ray’s room. He found her splayed out like a starfish on her bed.
“This bed is soft…” she mumbled.
Nick laughed, setting the pouch of coins on the chest. “You’re getting blood on the sheets,” he pointed out.
She shot up and rolled off the bed, crumbling to the floor with a loud thud. “You think that lady will be angry?”
“She won’t be angry,” a voice replied.
Nick turned toward the doorway, where a small girl stood holding a metal basin filled with water. She looked to be around eight or nine, with curly brown hair that framed a face dotted with freckles. She wore a plain apron over a simple tunic, her bright green eyes wide with curiosity.
“She won’t be angry,” the girl repeated with a grin, balancing the basin as she entered the room. “Nana says she’s seen worse. Way worse.”
Nick raised an eyebrow, amused by her confidence. “And you are?”
The girl set the basin down on the small nightstand with a soft clink before planting her hands on her hips. “My name’s Delia Vale. Nana says I’m in charge of making sure guests have what they need, especially if they’re messy.” she shot Ray a mischievous look. “You look pretty messy.”
Ray tilted her head, examining the girl. “I fought a really big guy.”
Delia’s eyes sparkled. “Was it a monster?”
“Nope, he was a human,” she replied.
“Like a knight?!”
“What’s a knight?”
“My daddy’s a knight! He protects the city from the scary monsters.”
Nick laughed. “He sounds cooler than the guy that Ray fought, then. I’m pretty sure he was an adventurer.”
“Ah…” Delia’s excitement dimmed. “Nana says to be careful around adventurers. Not all of them are good people.”
“That’s true,” Nick agreed easily. “You shouldn’t trust strangers. Even knights can be bad people…”
“No!” the little girl vehemently disagreed. “Knights are heroes. Mommy said so and she was always right.”
‘…Was?’ Nick caught the reference to a tragic detail and decided to leave it alone. It wasn’t his business to pry.
“Anyway! Nana says you should wash up before lunch.” She gestured toward the basin. “It’s not hot, but it’s clean.”
Ray dipped her fingers in the water. “Thanks,” she said.
Delia grinned, rocking on her heels. “You’re welcome!” Then she leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially. “If you get blood on the bed, just flip the mattress over. That’s what my brothers do.”
Nick smiled. “Good to know.”
Delia straightened up, clearly proud of her tip. “I gotta go help Nana downstairs. But if you need anything, just ask!” She gave them a cheerful wave and darted out the door, her light footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Nick shook his head in amusement. “She’s a handful.”
Ray stared after the girl, her eyes lingering on the doorway. “I like her.”
“Yeah. She’s alright.”
She turned back to the basin, splashing water on her face and rubbing at the dried blood with her hands. Nick leaned against the doorframe, watching her for a moment before speaking again.
“I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re done. We need to figure out a plan for the rest of the day and for the future. Let’s talk while we eat.”
Ray nodded, focusing on scrubbing the blood off her skin. “I want to kill some bad guys.”
Nick sighed and laughed. “Of course you do.”
Project Knightfall 