Peace. Quiet. The chirp of a bird.
Ravi opened his eyes, staring at the patch of ceiling he'd repaired. It was still holding.
For the first time in a week, nobody was trying to kill him. No goblins, no cultists, no homicidal politicians, and no Void beasts trying to floss their teeth with his ribs.
He stretched, his joints popping with a sound like pistol shots. He winced, checking the window to make sure he hadn't shattered the glass with the sonic vibration of his morning stretch. It was safe.
"Survival streak: one day," he muttered, swinging his legs out of bed.
He looked at the bedside table. The crystal Resonance Monitor Celeste had given him was there. It was blinking a slow, steady blue. At least she wasn't currently yelling at him through it.
He walked to the kitchen. It was dusty, cluttered with half-finished repairs, but it was home. He grabbed an apple from a bowl and took a bite. The crunch was deafening in the silence.
His life had changed. He felt it.
Before, he was just a stray dog Lyanna had picked up. Now? He was the guy who kicked down the Chancellor's door. He was the guy who punched a magic-eating wolf in the throat.
The secret was getting heavy.
He needed coffee. Or ale. Or whatever passed for a morning stimulant in this world that didn't involve mana potions.
He grabbed his tunic. It was his last clean one. He'd have to go shopping, which meant entering the city, which meant dealing with people.
He grabbed the Widowmaker from where it leaned against the wall. He hesitated. Did he take the terrifying demon-glaive to buy groceries?
Grimshaw's threats aren't gone just because he is, Ravi reminded himself.
He slung the weapon over his shoulder. It felt lighter than the day before. Maybe he was getting used to this world's physics, or maybe he was just accepting that he was a tank.
Stepping out onto the street, the change was immediate.
Usually, the Old Quarter was quiet. Today, heads turned. Whispers started.
"That's him," an old washerwoman murmured to her neighbor. " The one with the black axe."
"I heard he ate the minotaur," a boy whispered.
"No, you idiot, he cut it in half. With magic."
"I heard he doesn't have magic. I heard he's a golem sent by the dwarven kings."
Ravi kept his eyes forward, walking briskly. Great. The rumor mill has turned me into a robotic cannibal.
He reached the market district. The cleanup from the minotaur rampage was still underway. Carpenters were rebuilding stalls. The cobblestones where Ravi had blocked the hammer strike were fenced off, like a tourist attraction.
Someone had laid flowers there.
"Weird," Ravi muttered.
"Hero worship is a powerful drug," a familiar academic voice drifted from above.
Ravi looked up. Celeste was floating ten feet in the air, legs crossed, hovering beside a chimney. She looked immaculate in her robes, unaffected by the soot and grime of the city.
"Morning, floating encyclopedia," Ravi greeted her. "Is there a reason you're stalking me from the rooftops?"
"Observation point," she corrected, descending gracefully. She landed beside him, ignoring the stares of the passersby. "And I'm not stalking. I'm collecting longitudinal data. Your heart rate is annoyingly steady for someone who just became the most controversial figure in Aethelgard."
"Controversial?"
"Half the nobles think you're a hero for exposing Grimshaw. The other half think you're a rogue agent who should be leashed." Celeste pulled a scroll from her sleeve. "Also, you have a summons."
"Another one? Did I forget to fill out a form?"
"From Guildmaster Theron. Promotion time."
They walked to the Guild Hall together. The vibe inside was electric. Usually, when an F-Rank walked in, they were ignored or mocked.
Today, the noise stopped.
Three hundred hardened adventurers paused their drinking and arm-wrestling to look at the door.
Ravi walked in. He felt the weight of their eyes. It was like high school, if every student was armed with lethal weaponry and had a drinking problem.
In the corner, Kaelen sat with his usual crew. The big man looked up. His eyes met Ravi's.
Usually, there would be a taunt. A sneer. A shove.
Kaelen looked at the Widowmaker on Ravi's back. He looked at Ravi's bored expression. He remembered the feeling of being tripped by a ghost in the training yard.
Kaelen looked down at his drink. He said nothing.
Power shift established.
Ravi walked to the front desk. Elara the registrar—not the healer—was there. She didn't glare at him this time. She looked... conflicted.
"Ravi," she stated. "Guildmaster is expecting you. Upstairs."
She slid a small metal plate across the counter. It was Iron.
"E-Rank?" Ravi picked it up. "I thought killing a Void Hound was worth at least a Silver tag."
"Standard protocol," Elara said, sniffing. "You skip F. You skip the probationary period. But you have no mana score. We can't legally rank you D or higher without a confirmed mana reading. It's in the bylaws."
"Bylaws," Celeste scoffed beside him. "Bureaucratic incompetence."
"I'll take it," Ravi said, swapping his bronze tag for the iron one. "Does E-Rank get free snacks?"
"No. But you get access to the decent quests. No more cat chasing."
"Pity. I was getting good at that."
He went upstairs. Theron's office was becoming a familiar setting. The old bear of a man was pacing. Lyanna was already there, leaning against a bookshelf, looking recovered and radiantly dangerous.
"You look less singed," Ravi told her.
"And you look surprisingly alive," she smiled. The warmth in it was real. "Grimshaw is in the Black Cells. Confessed everything under interrogation. Claims he was trying to save us from an apocalypse."
"Villains always think they're the heroes," Theron grumbled. He sat down heavily behind his desk. "But that's Royal business. This is Guild business."
He slid a heavy sack across the desk. It landed with a thud that shook a quill holder.
"Bounty for the Void Hound. Plus the Cultist leader. Plus a... discretionary bonus from the City Guard for saving the plaza. Three hundred gold coins."
Three hundred. That was enough to buy his cottage ten times over. It was enough to retire to a farm and raise sturdy, indestructible sheep.
"Thanks," Ravi said, pocketing the sack casually. "Is that all?"
"Not quite," Theron leaned forward. "Grimshaw's arrest has created a power vacuum. The nobles are scrambling. And everyone wants to know who the hell you are."
Theron tapped a piece of parchment. "The reports are chaotic. Some say you used a magic item. Some say you're a disguised master from the East. Some say Lyanna did all the work and you're just the pretty face."
"I like the last one," Ravi said.
"The problem," Theron continued, "is that the King is interested. And when the King is interested, the Guild gets squeezed. I need an explanation, Ravi. A real one. For the files. How does a man with zero mana punch a magical construct to death?"
The room went quiet. Celeste leaned in, eager. Lyanna watched him closely.
Ravi knew he couldn't use the 'luck' excuse anymore. It was insulted their intelligence.
"It's the weapon," Ravi lied smoothly, patting the Widowmaker. "Grumbar's masterpiece. The Crimson Steel absorbs ambient mana and converts it into kinetic mass. The more magic around me, the heavier it hits. I just swing it."
It was technobabble nonsense.
Celeste narrowed her eyes. "That... is theoretical gibberish. Crimson Steel is conductive, not converting. And that doesn't explain your durability."
"A secondary enchantment," Ravi improvised. "Resonance shielding. Grumbar is a genius."
Theron looked at Celeste. "Is that possible?"
Celeste looked at Ravi. She knew he was lying. But she also knew that if she exposed him right now, he'd be dragged off by Royal Mages who weren't nearly as polite as she was.
She sighed. "It is... a hypothesis. Grumbar works with Old World alloys. We haven't fully categorized their properties. Plausible deniability."
Theron relaxed visibly. "Good enough for the paperwork. 'Experimental Dwarven Artifact wielder.' That keeps the Inquisition off our backs for a week."
He stood up. "Take a break, kid. You've earned it. But keep your head down. Grimshaw was just a pawn. Whoever he was working for... they're still out there."
They left the office rich and slightly more legitimate.
"Artifact wielder?" Lyanna chuckled as they walked down the stairs. "Grumbar is going to laugh himself into a coma when he hears that."
"Hey, it buys us time," Ravi said.
They reached the lobby. The front doors burst open.
The light of the afternoon sun was blocked by a figure standing in the doorway. Or rather, a glowing silhouette.
She was radiant. Literally. A soft, golden aura seemed to cling to her. She wore white plate armor that looked more ceremonial than practical, etched with gold filigree. Her hair was a warm chestnut brown, cascading in soft waves. Her eyes were the color of honey and compassion.
The chatter in the guild hall died instantly. Even the drunks stood up.
"Is that..." someone whispered.
"The Saintess," another hushed voice answered. "Aurelia Lightbringer."
Aurelia stepped into the hall. She didn't walk; she seemed to glide. She looked around, her benevolent gaze scanning the room filled with rough mercenaries. She didn't look disgusted; she looked pitying.
Then her eyes locked onto Ravi.
Or, Ravi guessed, she locked onto the giant black evil-looking glaive on his back that was radiating menacing vibes.
She walked straight toward them. Her movement was graceful, precise, trained. She wasn't just a priestess; she was a Paladin.
She stopped three feet from Ravi. She smelled like lilies and expensive incense.
"You," she said. Her voice was musical, like wind chimes.
"Me?" Ravi asked, looking around.
"You are the one they call the Anomaly," Aurelia said. She raised a gloved hand. She didn't slap him. She placed her hand on his chest, right over his heart.
Celeste bristled. "Excuse me, touch therapy is billable."
Aurelia ignored her. She closed her eyes. Her hand began to glow with blinding white light.
" Detect Evil ," she whispered.
Ravi braced himself. If this detected "things that don't belong in this dimension," he was screwed.
The light flared. Then it turned... pink?
Aurelia opened her eyes. She looked confused.
"Pure," she murmured. "No malice. No corruption. No dark pacts."
She looked at the Widowmaker. Then back at Ravi.
"You carry a weapon of darkness," she stated, "yet your soul is unnervingly quiet. It is like looking into a still ocean."
"I meditate," Ravi offered.
"You are a liar," Aurelia said, but she smiled. It was a terrifyingly pure smile. "But you are not Evil. The Goddess whispered to me. She said a Shadow had fallen on the Palace, but a False Light had burned it away."
"False Light?" Lyanna frowned. "Are you calling him false?"
"I am calling him... opaque," Aurelia said, stepping back. "I am here to cleanse the taint Grimshaw left behind. But I will be watching you, Ravi. Godless men with god-like strength are often heralds of the End Times."
"I'm more of a 'weekend adventurer' type of herald," Ravi deflected.
Aurelia laughed. It was a sound that made hardened criminals reconsider their life choices.
"We shall see. The Holy Church has taken an interest in Aethelgard. I will be establishing a sanctum here." She turned to Lyanna. "Lady Stormforge. Your sister sends her regards."
Lyanna stiffened. "My sister can rot in the capital."
"I will convey your sentiment," Aurelia nodded serenely.
She swept out of the guild, her entourage of white-robed priests following in her wake. The silence lingered for a long five seconds after she left.
"Okay," Ravi exhaled. "That was intense. Who was that?"
"Aurelia Lightbringer," Celeste said, pulling out a fresh notebook. "High Paladin of the Radiant Church. Known for burning witches and feeding orphans. Sometimes on the same day."
"She scanned me," Ravi touched his chest. "Said I was 'quiet'."
"That's because you have no mana!" Celeste said, frustrated. "Her spell works by detecting mana fluctuation caused by intent! You are invisible to her divine radar! She thinks you're pure because technically, spiritually, you're an empty room!"
"I'll take it," Ravi grinned. "Better than 'Evil Anomaly'."
"She's dangerous," Lyanna warned, her face grim. "The Church doesn't like competition. And they definitely don't like mysteries."
Ravi looked at the door where the Saintess had exited. Then at Celeste, who was dissecting the encounter mathematically. And Lyanna, who was brooding about family drama.
Three powerful, terrifying women. All interested in him.
And somewhere in the dark, Malachai was waking up.
"You know," Ravi said, shifting the Widowmaker on his shoulder. "I suddenly miss the goblins. Goblins are simple. You hit them, they fall down."
"Come on," Lyanna said, grabbing his arm. "Let's drink this gold. You have E-Rank duties tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?"
"Escort mission," Lyanna smirked. "For me. I'm going ball-gown shopping. The King is holding a victory banquet. And you're my plus one."
Ravi groaned. "Social combat. My one weakness."
"Actually," Celeste chimed in. "I believe your weakness is high-quality pickles."
Ravi laughed. It felt good to laugh.
The storm was gathering. The Harem was forming. The Ranks were rising.
But for tonight, the Weakling was buying the drinks.