The buzz of distant voices reached Jake before he even stepped through the outer gate of the town. Something was off. Normally, the market square would be slow to wake—just a few shopkeepers setting up their stalls, a handful of half-awake laborers hauling crates or brooms.
But today, the town was alive. Not with the casual bustle of a market day, but with a frantic energy. People clustered in groups, whispering excitedly, wide-eyed and breathless. Children darted through alleyways, mimicking sword slashes. Someone was yelling near the well, though Jake couldn't make out what they were saying.
He stepped through the gates, boots hitting the cobblestone with a muted thud. His presence went mostly unnoticed, which suited him just fine. Jake was a shadow among the crowd—one more traveler with a hood drawn low, the kind of man people instinctively avoided locking eyes with.
He approached the nearest fruit stand. The merchant, a squat man with half a beard and a voice like gravel, looked up from rearranging apples. Jake kept his tone casual.
"What's the excitement?"
The merchant grinned, eyes gleaming with the kind of secondhand glory reserved for those who lived boring lives near interesting things. "You haven't heard? One of them is here."
Jake raised an eyebrow, as if mildly curious. "Them?"
"The Five. The heroes," the merchant said, practically beaming now. "She came in just this morning—Aveline. She's only passing through, but when she heard about the bandits, she said she couldn't just ignore it. Said she'd track them down herself before continuing on."
Jake's gaze sharpened just a fraction. Aveline. The Warrior-Saint. One of the five chosen by the gods to defeat the demon lord. A paragon of virtue and righteousness.
She was here. Coincidence? Maybe. "Did she say where she was headed?" he asked.
The merchant shrugged. "North, most likely. She left maybe ten minutes ago. Didn't stay long."
Jake gave a polite nod and continued on.
Inside, his mind was alight. Jhu
He hadn't agreed to kill the heroes. Not really. The god had laid out the mission in those vague, ominous terms that divine beings favored.
Jake had never said yes.
But that hadn't stopped him from accepting the power.
And now?
Now that he felt the blood itch under his skin, the hunger that never quite went away… the idea of crossing paths with one of the "heroes" made the corners of his mouth twitch upward.
What would happen if he used Skill Devourer on her?
Would it even work on someone powerful like that?
His boots found the path to the Adventurer's Guild almost by instinct. The tall stone building stood near the heart of town, a half-military, half-bureaucratic construct that smelled faintly of ale, iron, and desperation. As he walked, the smirk faded, replaced by his usual cold neutrality.
He stepped through the heavy oak doors. Inside, the guild was quieter than the streets, though not by much. A few adventurers lounged near the quest board, pretending not to gossip about Aveline. A clerk with ink-stained fingers glanced up at him.
"I need to file a missing person report," Jake said, voice calm and measured.
The clerk nodded, pulling out a form. "Name of the missing?"
"Corin. Young man, early thirties. Brown hair. Medium height. Last seen three days ago near the edge of Lowsend."
The clerk scratched notes down with his quill. "Relation?"
"Son." Jake replied smoothly. "He wandered off. We waited, but…"
The clerk gave a sympathetic noise. "It happens. We'll add it to the notice board and dispatch a scouting party, but with the bandits around, well—"
"I understand," Jake cut in.
The clerk finished scribbling, then gestured to the far wall. "You'll find the notice posted there by midday. If anything comes up, we'll send word."
Jake nodded and turned away.
As he stepped back onto the cobblestone streets, the morning sun had finally broken free from the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground. Jake's own shadow stretched behind him—tall, lean, quiet.
Somewhere out there, Aveline was already hunting.
But the thought of their paths crossing thrilled him in a way he hadn't felt since waking in this cursed world.
He wasn't planning to kill her.
But he wasn't planning not to, either.
For now, he'd return to the village. Keep playing the role. Feed Elia another gentle lie. Watch Mara pretend to be hopeful.