CHAPTER 10: The Accusation of the Wood Hero
Zodac lay on the small tavern bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The flicker of a torch by the wall casts long shadows across the room, painting his thoughts in gold and gray. Sleep wouldn't come—not after everything that had happened. His mind refused to rest, caught between the desire to change and the weight of his doubts.
He sighed, resting an arm over his forehead, his red hair messy yet somehow still holding that sharp, striking look that defined him.
"I can't trust anyone," he whispered to himself. "But maybe… maybe it could be different here. Maybe I could find something worth living for."
His voice trailed off. The flickering light reflected off the small crystal embedded in his chest. It pulsed faintly, as if reacting to his doubt.
"The other Wood Elemental heroes couldn't stop the wave. They all perished in battle." He turned his head to the side, frowning. "What makes me any different? What certainty do I have that I'll survive where they couldn't?"
He exhaled slowly, trying to push away the unease.
"Those four think this world is just a game. I hope their stupidity doesn't come back to bite me," he muttered, before forcing a grin to lighten his own mood.
"Well… if I don't make it as a hero, I could always be a carpenter."
The idea made him laugh—a quiet, genuine laugh that filled the small room for a moment. "Yeah," he said, smiling faintly, "that might actually work."
He rolled off the bed, stretching his arms as he looked around.
"Oh yeah, where do I even keep this?" he muttered, glancing at the pouch of coins on the shelf—about three hundred silvers, gleaming faintly in the firelight.
"There we go."
He lifted the wooden bedframe, tucked the pouch safely underneath, and dropped his crossbag beside it.
"I'll give Boss this money tomorrow when I go pick up my armor," he said with a yawn, collapsing back onto the mattress. The torchlight dimmed, and soon, the world slipped into darkness.
The Next Morning
Sunlight filtered through the small window, brushing against his face. Zodac groaned softly, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. The morning air felt fresh and alive, a promising start.
"Today feels right," he said with a smile—the first real one in a long time. "Who knows, maybe I'll actually have good luck for once."
He stretched, glanced around the room—then froze.
The shelf was empty.
"...What?" he said quietly. Then louder: "What!!!"
He scrambled to the shelf, searching, pulling open the drawers. Nothing. His silver pouch was gone.
"No, no, no! It was right here!" he yelled, flipping through the room in panic. Finally, he crouched down and lifted the bedframe. His crossbag was still there, untouched.
He sighed with relief. "At least this is safe…"
Then realization hit.
"Wait. How could the bag be fine but the money's gone?" He frowned deeply. "I was robbed."
Without wasting time, he stormed out of his room, heading for the tavern's front hall. As he turned a corner, he saw a group of knights near the entrance.
"That's odd," he thought. "Why are royal knights here?"
"Hey! You guys—listen, I've been robbed," he said as he approached them.
The knights turned sharply at the sound of his voice. One pointed straight at him.
"There he is!"
Zodac blinked, confused. "Wait, what?"
Before he could react, one of the knights shouted, "By order of His Majesty, the King, you are to come with us—immediately!"
"What are you talking about?" Zodac exclaimed. "I just told you, I was robbed!"
But his words didn't matter. Within minutes, his hands were bound, and he was escorted through the streets of Sundara, the onlookers whispering in confusion.
By the time he reached the grand throne room, his confusion had grown into silent frustration.
The tall doors opened, and he stepped in. The hall was emptier than before—no cheering crowds, no advisors—just the King upon his throne, and the other four heroes standing to the side. Rae. Jin. Doma. Aiden.
Their eyes burned with anger and disgust.
Zodac frowned. "What's with the mood here? This better be important. I've been robbed—"
"SHUT UP, YOU DEVIL!" Aiden's voice thundered across the room.
Zodac froze, disbelief washing over his face. "What the hell got into you?"
"Pathetic," Rae said coldly, looking down on him with thinly veiled contempt.
"Scoundrel," Doma added, folding his arms.
"You don't deserve the title of hero," Jin spat.
Zodac's confusion turned to anger. "Wait! I'm lost here—what did I do?"
Rae stepped forward. "Still denying your own sin? You are nothing but a disgrace—a devil in human skin."
"Can someone," Zodac snapped, his voice echoing through the chamber, "explain what the hell is going on!?"
"Silence!" The King's voice cut through the air like a blade.
The room fell dead quiet.
"Wood Elemental Hero," the King said sternly, his tone cold and deliberate, "you stand accused of attempting to defile and abduct a princess of Sundara."
Zodac blinked once. Then twice. "…A princess?" he repeated slowly. "There's a princess?"
The King's eyes narrowed. Aiden stepped aside, revealing a young woman standing behind him. She wore a royal gown—elegant, flowing violet silk. Her long red hair fell over her shoulders, trembling as she cried into Aiden's chest.