“Undead? Truly repulsive. To have fallen so low…”

  The emotion in the paladin’s voice was bordering on disdain, but still closer to disappointment.

  “It was written in the report that you destroyed each undead with a single strike.”

  On the other hand, the branch deputy leader’s tone remained consistently flat throughout the interrogation.

  “If you read that, you must have read the next part, too.”

  “...so, your sword is indeed an Adamantium Arm?”

  “My sword is indeed made of adamantium, and can pierce magical projectiles, as well as disrupt active arcane circles.”

  “...I see. And you got it’s an old family heirloom, correct?”

  “Yes. This sword was passed to me by my father before I left Luskar.”

  So far, I managed to word my answers in a very specific way, successfully avoiding revealing too much information.

  “Alright. We shall return to that later.”

  The deputy branch leader sounded slightly dissatisfied, but let the vague answer slide for now.

  “How, exactly, did the battle end?”

  “I’ve managed to destroy the two skeletons guarding him, and close the distance. His body was frail, so from there, it took less than a minute for him to die.”

  “Almost a minute? He managed to resist for that long?”

  “...no. Rather, he only lived for a few dozen seconds afterwards.”

  Ornyl furrowed his brows.

  “Did he say anything?”

  “His first words were for me to wait, but after I broke his jaw, his words became illegible, and after his ribs pierced the lungs, all he could do was gurgle blood. At some point, it seemed he no longer drew breath, so I ended his life for certain by severing the head.”

  The deputy leader's face turned a tiny bit colder, while the paladin's sad sigh could be interpreted in more than one way.

  “Then, you took down the apprentice priestess's body, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now then, child. Tell me exactly what happened afterwards.”

  This time, it was the paladin who asked the question.

  I began describing the following events. As I got to the formation of ‘that thing’ I couldn't help but ask a question of my own.

  “By the way, could you tell me what that ball of bones was? I knew it was connected to the god of Undeath, but nothing beyond that.”

  To my surprise, the paladin answered the question with no reluctance.

  “Gods can communicate with us mortals directly – but the strongest gods seldom deign to do so. Instead, certain offerings, different for each god, can call forth a Divine Projection – a being containing the tiniest scrap of that god's divinity, capable of conveying the god's will and ideals.”

  “Are you saying the thing I destroyed back there?..”

  “To that god, this was as insignificant as an ant bite would be to you.”

  The paladin hesitated for a moment.

  “But an ant biting your toe is still painful and annoying. I would remain vigilant if I were you - some gods have existed for millennia, and The One Who Deceived Death is known for holding his grudges.”

  I felt a chill pass down my spine, but clenched my teeth and ignored it.

  “Now, please continue.”

  I retold my conversation with projection, including its finale.

  “And this was your last interaction with the Undead Deceiver, was it not?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Good. I believe you, child. However, due to the sheer deviousness of this great foe, I must ask you a few more questions. Please answer them all.”

  I nodded.

  “Beside that time in the cave, had the Undead Deceiver, as well as anyone or anything who you knew to, or could reasonably suspect of being his follower or minion, asked you to join him in any capacity?”

  “No.”

  “Has any otherworldly entity, including deities, or anyone or anything who you knew to, or could reasonably suspect of being their follower or minion, asked you to enter their service, or perform anything, on their behalf or otherwise?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have any relations with any such entities?”

  “I-”.

  I tried to answer negatively, but realized that wouldn't be the truth.

  “Me and the Undead Deceiver seem to share a mutual grudge. Besides that, the answer is no.”

  “I see. If he or any of his servants asked you to join them again, would you accept?”

  “...almost certainly.”

  “Oh?”

  The paladin raised his brow.

  “Setting aside the fact itself, what potential circumstances separate the answer from complete certainty?”

  “If I was certain of the follower’s intentions being genuine, and my identity being unknown, I would likely choose to infiltrate such a gathering, to either kill its leaders, or, if I judged my strength to be insufficient, report it to the temple.”

  The deputy leader scoffed, while the paladin gave me a kind smile.

  “I commend your bravery, child, but you must never attempt this. When it comes to the Undead Deceiver, most perceived blunders often turn out to be devious traps, and even if you did manage to infiltrate the lowest ranks, getting to the true leaders before discovery would be even less likely, and if you somehow accomplished that, too, you'd be faced with a High, or even Transcendent Death Priest, prepared with multiple contingencies and escape plans.”

  The paladin looked me in the eyes.

  “If you ever find yourself targeted by, or encountering Death Priests or their followers seemingly at random, come to the Sun temple immediately – if you're not in a city, seek the nearby town that has a communication array, and preferably a priest."

  “...fine. I understand.”

  At least, I understood, in my head, that this would be the most logical course of action. I still didn't know if I could follow it, though.

  “Good.”

  The paladin didn't press this issue further.

  “I have no more questions. Ornyl?”

  “I have a couple left, if you don't mind.”

  The man’s piercing eyes locked on to mine once more.

  “Your sword. Do you have any clue regarding its origin?”

  “Only that it's a family heirloom.”

  “Did you ask or let anyone erase your memories in the past? Including doing it to yourself, via whatever method.”

  “Not that I can remember.”

  “Yes or no?”

  “If something like that happened, it would have happened during the period of time of which I had no memory of. Aside from that, the answer would be no.”

  The man squinted his eyes, but soon let out a sigh of annoyance, mixed with resignation.

  “Fine. Do you intend, or plan in the future, to bring any harm to Valoria or its law abiding citizens?”

  “...beyond whatever harm missions approved by the Adventurer's Guild entail, the answer is no.”

  The second, subtler sigh also contained mild annoyance, but I paid it no mind.

  “Do you intend to leave Valoria in the future?”

  “I truly do not know. However, unless my gaes can be dealt with, I'll be forced to leave for Luskar at some point, once I'm strong enough to enact that revenge.”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Of course, healing my [Soul Corrosion] was way higher up the priority list, and I'd leave Valoria if it increased my chances of finding such a cure, but there was no certainty in such a future.

  “One final question. Have you told anyone about the incident involving the Death Priest?”

  “There was a blacksmith in Pine Harbor, who knew both me and Amelia. The town also sold him the weapons used by the skeletons, and he was able to identify the bone dust in them. I told him bits of the ‘official’ story the sheriff shared with me.”

  I also told the fake story to the halfling, but the reason I didn't specify it was to simply prevent more potential questions.

  “And the real story?”

  “I only told it to the sheriff. Thomas likely knows it, too, but you already know that.”

  “I see. Then this concludes my questions. Paladin Roderick – you may withdraw your aura.”

  The paladin sighed in relief, some strain finally audible in his voice, before the warm light orbs in the air dissipated as if they were never there.

  “I’ll be taking my leave, then. And child..”

  He turned towards me with a faint but warm smile.

  “Regardless of today's decision, you may come see the high priest an hour or so before sunset – his schedule should be unoccupied then.”

  “Thank you very much, sir Roderick.”

  And soon, only me and Ornyl remained in the room. His expression, albeit still stern, had instantly lost some of its coldness.

  “You sure had an… eventful journey.”

  “Are you talking about the goblins?”

  “That, too. Truly, with all the things you managed to get entangled with, this is the most complex residence case I've seen in all my long years in the Ministry.”

  We faced each other, one sitting amidst the scattered chains and shackles, the other leaning on the strange uniform wall. The silence in the isolated room grew heavier and heavier.

  “You shall be granted a temporary permit.”

  After nearly a minute had passed, the man finally made his decision.

  “In two years, you shall return to the Ministry for reevaluation. If, by then, you desire citizenship, that decision shall be based on your contributions to Valoria, including completing Adventurer's Guild missions, official city watch or national bounties, your total property owned or investments in such property, and similar criteria.”

  His gaze became a tad less strict, too.

  “Until then, you shall receive a temporary identification token which functions just like a regular one, at least for two years. You will be able to do business with the Bank of Valoria, as well as any other that requires the token.”

  It seemed the decision was a positive one, even if slightly inconclusive.

  “Is there anything else?”

  “Two more things.”

  It seemed this wasn't over yet.

  “First and foremost – even for slaying a confirmed level 3 Death priest alone, there would be a bounty. Given that your actions almost certainly squashed a greater scheme in its infancy, the reward will be greater.”

  He paused for a moment.

  “We haven't forgotten your contribution in Thomas’s goblin assassination mission, either. I heard you and the local militia leader also killed two of the weaker greater goblins yourselves. You shall both receive an adequate reward for that mission.”

  My face remained stoic, but inwardly, I was relieved. My finances were dropping dangerously low those days.

  “Before I talk about the final thing, would you mind satisfying a curiosity of mine?”

  “..?”

  “It’s nothing big. Just a small hearing test – conducted right outside this door.”

  “Sure…”

  I knew I could refuse, but I had no real reason to. Besides, I was a bit curious myself.

  “Then let's head outside.”

  Finally getting out of the gloomy chair, I followed the man, who opened the door.

  “Sir!”

  The same guard who escorted me here was waiting outside, and saluted Ornyl upon seeing him beyond the doorway.

  “At ease. Could you do me a small favor?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Walk to the eastern wing entrance, and keep the corridor door open. Walk to the end of the corridor, stomping your boot on the ground every 50 steps. Return once you reach the northern exit.”

  “...Sure- yes, sir.”

  The guard, clearly confused, began walking towards the T intersection in the distance.

  “Sebastian. Focus on his steps. Tell me when you can no longer hear them. Disregard the stomps.”

  “Sure.”

  I listened to the sound of his heavy metal boots, with their leather soles, descending upon the strange stone floor time and time again. I then heard the sound of a door opening, and the steps continued, suddenly becoming much fainter.

  Stomp!

  As the first 50 steps passed, his footsteps were still audible.

  Stomp.

  The next 50 steps gradually became harder to hear, but still distinguishable.

  stomp…

  By the time he stomped his foot a third time, I could barely hear each step.

  Just as I was about to tell Ornyl that I could no longer hear them, the steps suddenly stopped.

  “He.. he's turning around.”

  The steps slowly became clearer again.

  “Indeed… indeed he is.”

  Turning my head to look at the deputy branch leader, his face was still as expressionless as it was before, but I could clearly hear a faint trace of disbelief.

  “Sir!”

  The guard returned, saluting once again.

  “Dismissed. Go back to reception.”

  “...Sir!”

  The guard was clearly confused once again, but complied without question.

  “Rewards are handled by Logistics. I need to approve it myself, either way. Come.”

  Ornyl turned and walked in the same direction as the guard did seconds ago. I followed.

  However, I couldn't help but notice his step was deliberately slow.

  “So, what’s the third thing?”

  I asked the question just as the guard disappeared behind the door we first came through.

  “Straight to business. I like it. But first, aren't you curious about your Awareness rank?”

  “...there is a way to check it?”

  I deduced the word ‘rank’ referenced to the number near the Attribute.

  Of course, I already knew what my Awareness was, but I had no intention of revealing my Trait, and I was, in fact, interested in how this information was usually obtained in this world.

  “There are a few ways, but most of them are either expensive, require a very powerful wizard or priest, or a powerful artifact. However, the simplest is comparison.”

  That made sense, actually. Provided one of the people knew their own rank.

  “There are two Attributes which are relatively easy to compare – Strength, and even more so Awareness.”

  “Awareness is easier to compare than Strength?”

  “Of course. Contests of Strength, even the simplest ones, can be influenced by too many factors. Awareness tests are the simplest and purest, as long as two people are in the same Attribute Realm, and have no external enhancements or disabilities, like a missing ear.”

  “So? What do you think my Awareness rank is?”

  “Between 18 and 19.”

  “...”

  As he paused, I just flatly looked at him.

  “Ah.. you never received any relevant education, did you?”

  “Erm… the branch leader in Pine Harbor explained a few things…”

  “Pine- Harold? Ha. No wonder you're this clueless. I'm surprised he'd even bother. Oh, must have tried to sell you on that Adventurer's Guild program, with him as the referer.”

  “You sound like you know him pretty well.”

  “Know him?”

  Ornyl's expression was that of thinly veiled disgust.

  “You can say I know his type. As for his name, he was quite… famous in the city four years ago.”

  “Harold? Famous?”

  “He used to be a promising Guild official, and a decent adventurer, to boot. He might have climbed even higher at the guild, if not for the incident where Lord Silverton's youngest son died on his watch.”

  “What? The Lord’s son?”

  No matter what world this was, I couldn't imagine him walking away from something like that with a slip on the wrist.

  “It was a complex situation, and his fault lay in negligence – at least, to the extent it could be proven. He also used to have a high standing in the Guild. So they ‘promoted’ him to a branch leader role in one of the quietest towns in the kingdom, and put enough restrictions on him for it to become a prison in all but name.”

  By now, we had already ascended the stairs, and were walking through a regular corridor, illuminated by the midday sun.

  “You would do well not to judge all Guild branches based on Pine Harbor. His was a.. special case.”

  “I see.”

  Subjecting all of Pine Harbor's adventurers to such a branch leader just for the sake of making a political statement still didn't feel fair, but then again, there were many worse things enacted in the name of politics back on Earth.

  “Either way, it's somewhat uncommon for level 1 Path-bearers to have more than one Attribute pass the 1st threshold, but not exceedingly rare. However, it would only barely cross it. You, on the other hand, have an Attribute – which is likely a minor Attribute in your Path, at best - nearly reaching the 2nd realm. Moreover, judging by your story, you’ve crossed that threshold before even stepping on your Path.”

  “...”

  I didn't exactly know how to respond. I felt that having an attribute beyond 14 was powerful, but I didn't realize having 5 out of 6, one being almost at 20, was this rare.

  “Sebastian. If I, hypothetically, were to offer you a chance to directly join the Ministry as a recruit, what would your answer be?”

  “I’d politely refuse, sir.”

  I didn't show even a second of hesitation having half-expected something similar.

  Surprisingly, Ornyl wasn’t offended or displeased – in fact, he actually let out a quiet, dry chuckle, after not even showing the slightest smile so far.

  “Just as expected. Most people would jump on this opportunity faster than an Imperial Leaper jumps on its prey, but some people value their freedom above even that.”

  “With all due respect, sir, I don't see how guarding the reception hall and escorting guests all day is an enviable position.”

  “Oh, those guys? They are from the Valor corps, with some Flaming Spear corps mixed in for the more sensitive roles. None of them are part of the MIS itself.”

  “Ah…”

  “No need to say it. I’m certain your answer wouldn't change.”

  He was correct, although had it not been for my soul conditions, I might have truly considered it.

  “The offer I had in mind was slightly different. You said you intended to work as an adventurer, have you not?”

  It wasn't something I said, explicitly, yet I did imply it, so I nodded.

  “I will give you a document that opens up certain Ministry requests at the Guild. Just hand it to any receptionist, and she'll know what to do.”

  “I… I'm not against it, but there are certain circumstances preventing me from staying in the city, at least for now.”

  It sounded really nice, but I really didn’t want to increase the risk.

  “I see.”

  The deputy leader didn't push further.

  “Still, I'll give you the document – in case you change your mind.”

  “Sure.”

  It’s not like it'd hurt to have, on the off-chance I returned to this city later.

  At my reply, Ornyl finally opened the door in front of which we've been standing for a minute or two.

  “Now, let's go get your rewards.”