Travis turned to face the adventurers, his expression unreadable as they all stared at him. The battlefield, once filled with chaos and terror, was now eerily silent, littered with the bodies of the fallen ogres. Blood stained the earth, and the metallic tang lingered in the air. The adventurers were frozen, shock written plainly across their faces. Some clutched their weapons tightly, others simply stood with their mouths agape, unable to comprehend what they had just witnessed.

  Without a word, Travis turned and walked past them, his steps unhurried, his presence almost surreal. His tattered clothes swayed gently in the breeze, stained with grime and blood, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care.

  The adventurers parted instinctively, giving him a clear path as he made his way back into the town.

  At the inn. He trudged upstairs, entered his room, and peeled off the remnants of his gear. Every muscle ached, and his body felt as though it was made of lead. Finally, he stepped into the bath, sinking into the warm water.

  A relieved sigh escaped his lips as the heat worked its way through his battered form. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the edge of the tub.

  'I can't wait to eat, man,' he thought, a faint smile tugging at his lips. But before he could think any further, his body succumbed to exhaustion, and he passed out in the water.

  ---

  Back on the battlefield, the adventurers still stood in stunned silence. The carnage before them felt like a fever dream, a surreal nightmare they hadn’t woken from. The air was thick with the stench of death, and the wind carried the faint echo of battle cries that had been silenced moments ago.

  Caleb was the first to break the silence. He turned to his friends, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What just happened?"

  Jacob planted his sword into the blood-soaked ground and let out a heavy sigh. "I think that kid just saved our butts."

  Logan wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, he did. I didn’t think I could survive any more of that, honestly."

  The three exchanged a glance, then chuckled, the sound awkward and tinged with lingering disbelief.

  "Man, I’m hungry as fuck," Jacob added, his voice cutting through the tension.

  Caleb snorted. "You’re always hungry."

  "Well, fighting for my life works up an appetite," Jacob shot back, smirking despite the exhaustion in his voice.

  Their banter was interrupted by the silver-haired mage, Lira, as she approached them. Her icy blue eyes, still glowing faintly from the magic she had used, scanned the field with a mixture of awe and weariness. "That wasn’t just skill," she said softly, her voice carrying a calm authority. "That was something else entirely."

  "You're telling me," Logan said, shaking his head. "That kid moved faster than anything I’ve ever seen. One second, the ogres were everywhere, and the next…" He gestured to the field of corpses.

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  Lira nodded, her gaze drifting toward the direction Travis had walked. "He’s not just some adventurer. There’s more to him than meets the eye."

  The group fell silent, each lost in their thoughts as they stared at the aftermath of the battle. For the first time, the adventurers who had survived felt the weight of what had transpired—the sheer impossibility of Travis’s actions, the lives he had saved, and the fact that the battle could have easily ended with their deaths.

  ..

  The next morning, a loud bang echoed through the room, yanking Travis out of a restless sleep. His eyes shot open, and a sharp pain surged through his muscles, making him wince. His whole body ached as if he'd been through an entire battle, and he groaned, pushing through the discomfort to sit up. The tub he had passed out in felt as though it had molded to his body, the cold tiles beneath him a cruel reminder of the rough night.

  'Guess it was worse than I thought,' he mused as he sluggishly stood up, his legs unsteady from exhaustion. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored it, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist, the rough fabric scraping against his still-sensitive skin.

  With a deep breath, he shuffled toward the door, his mind already racing with irritation. He wasn’t even sure who was knocking at this hour—probably the Inn Keeper, but he wasn’t in the mood for whatever she had to say.

  When Travis opened the door, he was met with the sight of a tall man standing in the doorway. The man had a sharp, chiseled face, and his piercing gaze carried an air of authority. His serious expression made Travis instinctively straighten his posture, his body tensing on reflex.

  ' Who the hell is he? ' Travis wondered. The man said nothing, simply gesturing with a flick of his hand, silently requesting entry.

  Travis hesitated for a split second before stepping aside to let him in. As the man crossed the threshold, Travis discreetly sharpened his senses, stretching his awareness outward. A chill ran down his spine as he realized—there were multiple presences hidden around the perimeter, all poised like wolves waiting for a signal.

  ' This guy must be important,' Travis thought, his gaze flickering back to the man.

  The stranger strode into the room with quiet confidence, stopping in the center. He didn’t turn around immediately, instead clasping his hands behind his back, as if evaluating the space or gathering his thoughts.

  "You are the one who defeated those ogres, am I correct in assuming that?" The man finally spoke, his husky voice smooth yet commanding.

  Travis cleared his throat, deepening his own tone as he answered, “Yeah, that was me.”

  At last, the man turned, his once-stern expression softening into something more relaxed. “What you did was admirable, and we’d like to reward you for that.” A small smirk tugged at his lips as he inclined his head. “Where are my manners? My name is Jerald. I am the Mayor’s messenger. And you must be Travis, correct?”

  Travis met his gaze evenly. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “Well, it’s good to finally meet you.” Jerald’s eyes flickered over Travis’s appearance, his brow lifting slightly. “Though, I can’t help but notice you seem to be having a bit of a wardrobe problem.”

  Travis glanced down at himself, barely clothed, battle-worn, and covered in dirt and dried blood. He sighed. “Yeah, I am.”

  Jerald’s brows rose higher at the short, blunt response. “Yes, you are,” he echoed, amusement slipping into his tone. “Would you like me to arrange for some clothes before you meet the Mayor?”

  “That’d be great,” Travis admitted before adding, “Also, could you get me some food? I’m starving—like, actually dying here. If I don’t eat soon, I might not even make it to this meeting.”

  Jerald chuckled, shaking his head. “Then we’d better not let our hero starve to death before receiving his reward. I’ll have them bring something right away.”

  After a few minutes, Travis sat comfortably in his fresh clothes, a steaming plate of food in front of him. He wasted no time digging in, devouring each bite with the kind of hunger that made it seem like he hadn't eaten in days. Meat, bread, vegetables—he ate everything with an appetite that showed no signs of slowing. Jerald sat across from him, arms crossed, watching in stunned silence.

  It wasn’t just the amount that shocked him—it was how Travis remained so lean despite it. The man had put away enough food for three people, and yet, there wasn’t an ounce of excess weight on him.

  Travis finally leaned back with a satisfied sigh, his plate clean. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then stretched his arms over his head.

  "Alright, I’m good now," he said, feeling the pleasant weight of a full stomach.

  Jerald blinked. “Are you sure? You don’t want to go for round two?” he asked, only half-joking.

  Travis grinned. “Nah, I’m definitely full now.”

  With that settled, the two left the inn, stepping onto the bustling streets. The midday sun was high, casting warm light over the town. Merchants called out their wares, travelers moved in small groups, and guards stood at key points, scanning the crowd with trained eyes.

  As they made their way toward the mayor’s place, Travis took notice of the number of guards positioned in hidden places. Their presence wasn’t subtle—there were more of them than he expected, and they weren’t just standing idly by. Their postures were tense, eyes sharp.

  “Are the guards really that necessary?” Travis asked, side-eyeing one who was gripping his sword a little too tightly above a roof.

  Jerald stiffened slightly, feeling a trickle of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He swallowed before answering, trying to keep his voice steady.

  “Yes. They are,” he said, though there was a nervous edge to his tone.

  Travis arched a brow at him but said nothing.

  Jerald forced himself to look ahead, but his mind raced. ‘How could he tell?’ he thought.

  TO BE CONTINUED