"Who... who are you, Sir? A-are you the one who killed those four bandits?" the old man stammered, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and awe as he stared at the strangely dressed young man before him.
Fyar sighed wearily, as if explaining the obvious "Ugh... I already told you who I am. Why ask again?" He paused for a moment, then added flatly, "And yes... I'm the one who killed them."
An awkward silence fell over them before Fyar cleared his throat. "So, um... are you willing to take me to a town? And give me a little money?" he asked, his usually cold tone now tinged with a hint of embarrassment.
"Of course, Sir! Of course!" The old man seemed to snap out of his stupor. "Thank you for saving me and my daughter!" He bowed deeply toward Fyar, a gesture full of respect. The young woman beside him, her eyes still showing the remnants of fear, bowed as well, offering her thanks in silence.
"Good," Fyar replied curtly.
He watched as the old man began to prepare, walking to the horse-drawn carriage and struggling to pull the bandit's corpse from it. Fyar's gaze then shifted to the other two bodies lying nearby. An idea crossed his mind.
I'm thinking of taking the money from the pockets of these two corpses... is that allowed? Oh, wait, I'm dreaming, right? If I get punished for this, it won't have any real consequences. Fine, I'll just take it. Since this is a dream, I'll do whatever I want!
Fyar's heart beat a little faster, a wave of happy excitement washing over him at the thought. To him, a rare dream like this was the most enjoyable form of entertainment.
He knelt beside the first corpse and began to search it. He found a small leather pouch that, when opened, jingled with the sound of 100 gold coins. Besides that, there was a gem smooth stone that emitted a soft blue light from within, and a knife with an intricately carved dragon motif on its hilt.
Damn, bandits have knives and stones this cool? I might have to change my opinion of them. They have good taste, Fyar thought with a faint smile on his face.
He then turned his gaze to the old man, who was still busy. "Um, old man, may I take the money and belongings from those two bodies?" Fyar asked in his typical flat tone.
"I-it's fine, Sir! I-I won't forbid it. A-after all, you were the one who killed them," the old man answered nervously, not daring to oppose his savior.
With permissionwhich he didn't really need Fyar approached the other two bodies that the old man had moved aside. From their pockets, he managed to collect another 59 gold coins, a plain looking knife, and a few unremarkable stones. However, one item caught his attention.. a solid black metal emblem in the shape of a skull, about the size of his palm.
What's this? An artifact? Or an identity marker? Mmm, did I accidentally kill members of an organization? Ah, whatever, this is just a dream.
Fyar sighed, then decided to ask. He walked over to the old man. "Old man, do you know what this is?"
The old man turned, and the moment his eyes fell on the emblem in Fyar's hand, his face turned deathly pale. He stared at the object as if he had just seen a ghost.
"Th-that? Y-you seriously don't know what that is?"
"Throw it away! Throw it as far as you can!" the white-haired woman suddenly screamed in panic. "W-we have to get out of here as fast as possible! Th-they might arrive here soon!"
Seeing their extreme reaction, Fyar complied. He hurled the skull emblem deep into the woods and hurried onto the back of the carriage. The old man quickly whipped the horses, and the carriage sped away from the scene.
Fyar sat opposite the young woman. The beautiful sunset atmosphere outside contrasted sharply with the tension inside the carriage. Fyar gazed at the reddening sky, occasionally lost in thought, contemplating his life and how he had ended up in such a unique dream.
She's very beautiful... maybe the most beautiful woman I've ever met. Even if this is a dream... um, in the real world, I'd never have the courage to speak to a woman first because of my fear of rejection. But since this is a dream, none of that matters.
Driven by this absurd logic, Fyar decided to break the silence. "What's your name?" he asked, his expression and tone once again flat.
The woman flinched slightly, then answered softly, "C-Cyhas... my name is Cyhas. I'm a merchant and also a level 7 Healer."
Level? Magic? Healer? The words sounded familiar, like something from the games i used to play. Is my dream like this because of that? I need to ask more... but how do I do it without being suspected as an outsider?
A brilliant idea occurred to him. He brought a hand to his chin, striking a pose as if in deep thought.
"I've lost my memory," he said, his voice laced with feigned confusion. "I woke up in a forest and realized my powers were gone too. The only thing I remember is how to use my weap—" he paused, correcting himself, "—I mean, this artifact in my hand. This artifact is what killed those four bandits. Can you explain what levels and Healers are?"
"You've lost your memory? And your powers are gone?" Cyhas replied, her tone full of sympathy. "That... that's a terrible situation."
Fyar didn't respond, letting the silence add weight to his lie.
Cyhas continued, "A level is a measure of power. The higher your level, the stronger you are. But, the higher a person's level, the more difficult the requirements become. Because of that, only a few thousand people in this world can reach a level above 30. They are usually the Royal Guardians, high-ranking adventurers, or top class criminals. As for a Healer, that's my power to heal others and myself... um... since I'm only level 7, I can only heal minor injuries."
"I see," Fyar mumbled. Hehe, even if this is a dream, having powers seems fun! "Is there a way for me to get my powers back? And are there people with no power at all, like at level 0?"
"Level 0? No," Cyhas answered. "From what I know, everyone born in this world has power within them. It's extremely rare for someone to be born without power. And as for getting your powers back... I don't know. I haven't studied it, and I'm just a low-level merchant. Maybe you could ask the adventurers when we get to town, or perhaps the head of the Adventurer's Association."
"I see..." Fyar replied, letting out a small, fabricated sigh of disappointment.
I'll probably wake up before then, he thought to himself.
Fyar then turned his gaze back to Cyhas, this time staring at her more intensely and seriously, taking in every detail of her face. Cyhas, noticing the stare, looked confused and a little flustered.
"I-is something wrong, Sir Fyar?" she asked hesitantly.
Fyar didn't change his expression. In the same flat tone as always, he answered.
"I think... you're quite beautiful."
"Eh?" Her face instantly flushed, confusion mixing with red on her cheeks.