It was raining heavily that night, my cloak was heavy on my shoulders, soaked, and my boots were carrying twice their own weight in mud. A warm, yellowish light cut through the pitch black of the stormy forest, however.

  “Knock, knock!” I knocked on the door of the rustic tree-log house. The resident of the house wasted no time in answering. In fact, he opened the door so quickly that it was almost as if he had been waiting for me on the other side of the entrance to his house long before I had even approached it.

  The inhabitant of the rustic and isolated house in the middle of the forest, the nearest human settlement being a day's march away, suited his dwelling: a close-cropped beard decorated his square jaw, gray hair and severe eyes, but despite his advanced age, his toned body was poorly hidden by the simple clothes he wore, his only adornment being a silver medallion hanging from his neck.

  — Good evening, friend — I pulled back my hood, smiling at the man. — I believe the Emerald Spring community should be somewhere around here...?

  — You lie so naturally. If I were to make you the protagonist of anything… perhaps a greedy merchant who would betray the Hero on a ship voyage and be promptly defeated? — the entity commented, seemingly enjoying the freezing rain and mud, invisible to everyone but me. I ignored her. In truth, I wanted her to shut up already. IN TRUTH, in truth, I wanted her to bite her tongue off, choke on the piece of meat, and die. — Cruel. Forget what I said about only being defeated by my champion, I would be sure to have him eaten by sharks.

  — The village? Friend, you are a whole day's journey off the route — the hermit replied, scratching his beard. — Say, why don't you spend the night here? At least it is dry and warmer than out there.

  — Oh! I would be eternally grateful, sir!

  — Bah, you don't need to call me sir, much less be eternally grateful. Any minimally decent elf would do the same — the hermit allowed me to enter, and I left my boots near the door, and my cloak on a hanger nearby. — Would you like some tea?

  — Please. I'm freezing here.

  — But that's not true, is it? You're not shaking, your lips are quite red, and in fact, you don't even look very tired.

  — Ah, he found you out. You're going to die, Haicard. After all, I've lost nothing by never paying attention to you, I see.

  Making more of an effort not to shout at the entity crouching in front of the invitingly burning fireplace than to give the old man a satisfactory answer, I confessed:

  — Haha, well, yes. I’m a veteran of the sacred war, you know? — pushing a strand of wet hair to the side, I showed off my new black leather eyepatch. — I have a few more points in Strength than most, so I may not be literally freezing, but the sensation of extreme cold is still uncomfortable. You would understand, wouldn’t you? — I indicated the object that rested near the fireplace and a chest, a sword wrapped in rags, with only the hilt and sun-shaped guard exposed. — Judging by the equipment on display, and the remote location of your home, I imagine you’ve had the odd run-in with monsters.

  — Hmpm! Yeah, I guess you could say that.

  — Ah, he believed it. I expected more from this man... — the entity looked at the old man with the same disinterest it showed to everyone else.

  The three of us sat (unfortunately) at a table in the center of the simple two-room house, whose only decorations were a beautifully painted picture of a beautiful woman smiling and a bunch of handmade trinkets, when the old hermit offered me tea. The entity created a cup for himself out of thin air and took the liberty of pouring himself from the teapot offered to me.

  — So, what business do you have in Emerald Spring Village? It's a pretty isolated place, even when compared to other settlements of the same size.

  — Actually, I'm thinking of making a new life there. After my forced retirement, I made enough money to buy a piece of land and thought about moving to a quieter corner.

  — That doesn’t suit you at all — the entity interjected. — In fact, I can’t think of anywhere that would suit you. Men of your type tend to be unhappy wherever they go. A small town would be boring and stifling, a big city would be maddening and infuriating. Oh, why don’t you kill yourself? If you did it dramatically enough, perhaps I’d be inclined to grant you an ideal afterlife? — she suggested irritatingly, when I just wanted her to stop stopping time all the time just to talk nonsense.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  — Aah! Sounds like a good idea. I, at least, don't regret doing the same thing many years ago — the old elf replied with a genuine smile. — And let me tell you something, those Strength points you invested will serve you for more than just defeating monsters. For example, this house was built by me myself and in just one- I mean, uhm... three days!

  — Wow, impressive. I never thought of using the System for something constructive like this. I mean, the only way to gain experience is by killing enemies, so it's pretty useless for 99% of people 99% of the time. Now that I think about it, I think even a disabled child in a coma could design something better, right? Hahaha!

  — Maybe I should add a rule to the System where all those who speak outrageous things like this automatically have their testicles crushed? — Despite showing no more emotion than a donkey's ass on his face, I took satisfaction from the entity's resentful words. — Resentful? I don't know what you're talking about.

  — Uuh... I don't know, man, I've never really thought too deeply about the System? — the old man looked a bit confused.

  — Anyway, it seems you’ve been pretty busy since you stopped being a soldier, huh? So many mugs, and pots, and utensils… and all in pairs, no less — I pointed out, and the hermit’s expression soured just a little.

  — Oh, yeah — he didn't seem to have any intention of elaborating on the implied question.

  — She really was beautiful. My condolences — I ventured, sipping the low-quality tea typical of commoners. And the old elf stared at me over his own cup in a mixture of surprise and irritation. — The woman in the painting was your wife, wasn’t she? Sorry to intrude, but I don’t sense the presence of anyone else in this house, and it’s a bit late and rainy for her to be out. Did I assume wrong?

  — Not wrong, but definitely a bit too nosy—he put down his cup, disgust evident on his face.

  — Nosy, huh? That's right. In a friend's library, I read a little too much about you, special category adventurer, Borges Heavy Hand... Or should I say, missing Hero King, Cruz?

  — Friend? You disemboweled Rodrigues to gain access to his records. — The entity crossed his arms.

  The retired Hero of the last generation stood up with a bang, his chair falling to the floor, and his eyebrows almost touching each other.

  — If it's about some succession issue or monster on the loose, I've already said that I won't get involved in such things anymore! Now, leave my house, before I throw you out of here myself!

  — Of course. — I finished drinking my tea, able to maintain a neutral expression at first glance only due to the fact that, since I was already completely soaked, the cold sweat that was running down my skin was camouflaged. — You didn’t get involved in the last war due to a lack of interest. Matters concerning the Shadow King don’t concern you, I imagine.

  — You already have the new Hero to deal with. Now, go.

  — I see. — I stood up slowly. There was simply no easy way to broach the subject, and it was quite possible that I would be killed before I even realized what had happened, but inaction was just as deadly in the situation I was in. I bet everything on my knowledge about the Heroes and commented: —Sadly, it's time to leave then, as much as it will be difficult to kill the current Hero without your help.

  There was no sound or movement perceptible to my eyes, one moment I was turning toward the door, unimpeded, the next, Cruz had a finger pointed straight at my forehead, standing in front of me.

  — One flick. One flick is all it takes to smash your skull like a snowball against a stone wall. — I knew this wasn’t a bluff. — What are you? An emissary of the Queen? Trying to make my daughter’s life hell again?

  I smiled.

  — Why won't you let me show you my Attributes? — I slowly set up the window containing my information. And when Cruz read my data, his eyes widened, and he seemed to read and reread the text in the window a dozen times before commenting on anything.

  — You... are the new Shadow King? But... you're so... WEAK?! No, wait, you're an elf too! Not a devil? Not an elemental?! Not a monster?!

  — Haha, well, you could say I was cursed with that Title, but it's a fact that I'm the current Shadow King. And I'd love to have you as my right hand, since, as you can see, my Attributes leave a bit to be desired.

  — What?! What an outrage! I may be retired, but I was once a Hero! Do you really think I would tarnish the memories of my wife and companions by joining the dark side?! Weak or not, you are the enemy of the entire elven species, give me a single reason not to brain you right now!

  — Alright. Your reason is in my bag. The book titled “A Comprehensive Guide to the History of álfheim, by Elarico Milemario Saudoso”. Discovering the truth written in this tome was what cursed me with the Title I am now forced to bear.

  — Elarico Milemario? This is the old master historian who discovered that I was the Hero... — Cruz took the volume from inside my bag.

  — Go ahead. Read the book.

  — Divine Chains — Cruz cast a spell, and in the next instant, chains made of pure light jumped from the wall behind me, wrapped themselves around my wrists, legs, mouth, and torso, and immobilized me completely. — Very well. I will read it. But if I judge that this is not reason enough to let you live, I will decapitate you and carry your head to the capital myself.