Requiem Of A Failed Hero

Chapter 389 The Reward

?Nestled between gently sloping emerald hills sat a charming village. Verdant fields checkered the landscape, some lying fallow while others bore neat rows of sprouting crops that swayed lazily in the soft breeze.

Scattered haphazardly across this countryside were the village’s quaint cottages, no two exactly alike. Their paneled tin roofs glinted like jewels under the afternoon sun, cascading waves of crimson, azure, and other shimmering colors. Sturdy concrete walls bore witness to decades past.

Though the cottages were uniform in basic shape and size, each one bore slight variations that spoke to the character of its occupants – one abode had a third narrow window tucked under the eaves to accommodate their beloved potted herbs while another’s door was but a stoop to better suit their tired bones.

Some boasted exterior staircases of up to four mossy stone steps that welcomed guests to the heavy oaken doors snuggled within, whereas others opened straight from the dirt paths threading through the village.

Behind each home lay gardened patches cross-hatched with stone pathways overlooking the fields beyond, daily trodden from back door to soil and home again at dusk.

Far in the distance atop a gently rising knoll sat the largest and stateliest cottage of all – home to village chief.

Its sage-colored walls and burgundy shingled roof commanded the best views of the surrounding lands. His dwelling was accessible by a winding cobblestone thoroughfare that cut narrowly between the lower village homes before rising to meet his small courtyard garden, which was always alive with sweetly perfumed blossoms from the surrounding woodlands.

Currently, Raith was walking on this cobblestone path, a few meters away from her garden. He had passed the main village. He had to say, this place is enviable lively compared to several other places, especially in Therut.

It’s an understatement for it to be called a village. The people lived well, most of them of course were not currently in. The young lady had informed him that each villager had a portion of the field where they cultivate. After cultivating for a season which was the period of three months.

Harvests are collated together and Hektor some charismatic young man Raith had an encounter with…

Raith shook his head at the silly guy as he remembered again.

Quite strange how such a guy was trusted and in charge of transporting the villagers harvest to the capital where it is sold and he comes back with the money which is then shared equally amongst the villagers regardless of the effort input.

Raith on his opinion found that part of to be very faulty, first of all, a very suspicious, perfectly fine and too handsome young man like Hektor was overseeing the trade?

‘…there’s nothing you can tell me. That guy is a swindler.’

Now, to make matters worse – the profits are shared evenly regardless of effort input. Although the lady had mentioned that the lazy are greatly punished, from Raith’s point or view, this does not justify that act enough.

But it wasn’t his business, he was just going to sweep in, collect his rewards, make investigations about his bounty, whose name he had forgotten by the way and sweep right out.

As they reached the pathway between the garden leading to the chief’s door. Raith turned back one last time. There was still no signs of Thard – Harl.

He had been looking around throughout their journey to the hill, the asura was nowhere to be found and Raith was starting to get worried.

‘…not that I care. It’s just that if something happens to him, how am I supposed to get stronger? Or get home?’

Raith had come to understand the role of the asura in his life and after seeing himself today battling a monster, Raith was beginning to feel the overwhelming passion to get better.

“Father can be quite insensitive and harsh to stranger. But you are different, you defeated the deep dweller for us.” The young lady said to him.

He didn’t ask and didn’t care if some egotistical and antique village chief was going not going to be nice to him. Just the rewards… yeah, the rewards was all that matter. That reward was not just for killing the deep dweller. It was also to compensate for the sufferings and the days spent in that cursed plane.

The lady on the other hand lowered her head, blushing a little.

Raith scratched his cheek, feeling uneasy with the lady’s body movement. This was not the first, second or third time it was happening throughout their journey.

A normal person should have suspected long what this girl was onto but Raith, as clueless as ever, genuinely thought she was probably not feeling too well. Therefore it made him uneasy that she still decided to walk slowly with him and talked to him, about the customs of the village despite the distress she was in.

He watched her walk forward, her hips swaying gently before his eyes. He could see the tattoo on her back more clearly, although a major part was covered by her green linen which hung between her scapula. The webbed tattoo was plainly expressed on her shoulders, upper back and arm.

‘…I wonder what she is… she can’t be human with that wing… maybe a fairy?’

Raith scoffed silently while the lady knocked the door. A fairy was a far – fetched idea, what is this a fantasy land? Besides fairies from the story he read were much more smaller.

The door opened and young lady turned to him with her everly bright smile.

“Come on young warrior. Father has invited us in”

‘Father? Hm.. so she’s the village chief daughter. No wonder, she knew everyone.’ .

He gently followed her into the state-of-art cottage, as far as the definition of state-of-art goes in this area.

The floors of the cottage gleamed with smooth wooden tiles laid centuries past, worn gentle by the generations who walked them. Woven rugs scattered vibrant warmth across the chilly stone. Sconces of wrought iron curled and twisted like vines up the pillars, each cradling a glowing orb that gave radiance to the dark room as Raith and the lady entered.

On a reading chair surrounded by bookshelves carved into the walls, sat an astute elderly man, his shoulder was broad and his shape in general was almost rectangle. Round glasses with golden rim slid slowly down his nose, his eyeballs sank downward, trying to peer into the glasses to create a clear visage of the human standing.

After an awkward couple of seconds. The man dropped the book he was holding and stood up.

His height was not much different from when he was sitting, plus his back was bent. He slowly walked towarde the young lady and looked up with a slight… disturbing frown.

“You went to fight it again?”

His voice was rough, and wrinkled like his skin, weathered by time and almost breaking. His aura however was genteel and calming.

But Raith for some reason had all his senses high up. .𝒎

“Father! We did it this time. The Deep dweller is dead!” The girl acclaimed. But it seemed to not having any effect on the man.

“Yes. I saw.”

Every fell in gauche silence. Like three seconds late, the man looked past the lady, his squinty eyes harrowing every of Raith’s being.

Raith felt like he was being turned out from the insides. The man was obviously not using anything like skill or whatnot. If that was the case, Sage would have alerted him. By looking at him alone, Raith could tell…

This was the kind of eyes that came from an immense amount of profundity, one born out of untold experiences.

The fact that it made him uncomfortable still stood though. And following a few seconds, Raith returned the gesture with a piercing gaze of his own. His two color eyes, burning with a fervor of keen scrutiny.

The atmosphere crackled, almost being ignited by flames of impending doom. It was so evident that even the lady could feel it. Before she could talk though… the man carved a senile smile on his face.

“It is indeed nice to meet you young man. For a minute, I thought that you were a hero but it seems you are not.”

Raith narrowed his eyes at man’s remark.

‘Didn’t he mean it the other way round?’

Besides that, the whole place changed just because of a little smile. Everywhere was shrouded in sparks of uncertainty, Raith was in fact thinking he might have to fight the man should he try any nonsense. Because he was in no mood for nonsense.

All he looked forward to was the gift. Maybe they were going to give him some food, and money. He was interested more in the money aspect. It would be more befitting, since he would still be going to his training ground after hunting his bounty.

“Come come… let us settle.”

He said that but was walked forward, past Raith and back into the garden. The old man picked a cane beside the door outside, funnily Raith didn’t notice when he was entering, or maybe he just didn’t pay attention to it.

The man gently supported his crumbling body with the cane and walked towards the garden on his left. There was a pathway to guard their feet to a small tea altar.

“Here, have you seat.” He uttered, clicking his cane on the mounded seat opposite him.

Raith sit down but the young lady was standing.

He looked at her.

“I can give a little space for both of us to manage.”

“No, young warrior it is fine. This is how I should be.” She replied with a closed-eyes smile.

Somehow, something about thar reply was bothersome to Raith even as the man started talking.

“Young man. I praise your valor and spirit. It is very rare, to see a man with a generous heart such as yours.”

‘What is it with the politeness, just a minute ago he looked like he could skin me alive.’

The man continued however:

“The deep dweller is a creature that has plagued our village for many years. Eating away the nutrients of our soil and reducing out yields. I am sure you would have come by barren lands with black soil before reaching the village…”

Indeed, Raith had come across a vast black land, he didn’t need to think twice to conclude… that was obviously the effect of the deep dweller eating away their soil.

“…to bring an end to such creature is a noble act. We the village of Mutata are indebted to you…” the man slowly bowed his head.

Raith tried his best to be humble, also bowing his head shyly but deep inside he thought.

‘Hey now… what do you mean indebted… what’s with the bow.’

The chief carried on as he returned his head.

“Even though we shall be rewarding you greatly for your act. We will still be indebted to you, the village will be indebted in you. The heart of Mutata is farming. Here we cultivate rare food resources that are sold for expensive amounts in the capital. To save our soil is to save our soul…”

‘Can this man just move to the reward part already.’

“…because of that we would like reward you with the greatest thing we have.”

A small smile appeared on Raith’s face, he lowered his head in order to not make it obvious.

The village chief looked at the lady standing with somber eyes.

“Theta.” His voice was a little sunken.

“Yes father.” She responded, bowing on one knee.

The man faced Raith again.

“We will be living the guardian fairy of our village in your hands.”

Raith arched a brow… ‘What the fuck?’