Zen stepped out of the clothing shop, the bell chiming softly behind him. The new black shirt clung comfortably to his frame, the fabric light and easy to move in. He adjusted the cuffs once, then began moving through the street, stopping occasionally to buy what he needed—basic supplies, food, a few necessities for travel.
As the last coin left his palm, he let out a slow breath.
"Hey, Red," Zen said casually as he walked. "You're basically useless aside from giving directions. Don't you have anything to say? No plans? No wisdom to share?"
There was a brief pause.
Then Red's voice echoed in his mind, smooth and faintly amused.
"Oh, host. I thought you liked freedom. Didn't you say you hated being tied to someone?"
Zen snorted. "I do like freedom."
He tightened the strap of his pack.
"But freedom without power is just wishful thinking."
Another pause—shorter this time.
"…I see," Red replied. His tone shifted, carrying a sharp edge beneath the calm.
"So the one who would be helpless without me dares wound the ego of this benevolent—no, malevolent—system?"
Zen didn't respond. He kept walking.
Red chuckled softly. "Very well. Since my usefulness has been questioned, I shall prepare something fitting."
The air around Zen seemed to grow heavier.
"A quest," Red continued. "One designed specifically for you. So do not worry, host."
A beat.
"Give me some time."
Zen's lips curved into a faint smile as he stepped onto the road leading out of town.
"…I'll be waiting."
Zen stepped back onto the street, the new clothes settling on him like a second skin. Black fabric, clean lines. Nothing flashy. Nothing weak.
He checked his surroundings once, then moved.
"In due time," Zen said calmly, more to himself than to Red, "I'll do what I can. The things I couldn't before."
No emotion. No nostalgia. Just a statement of fact.
His body worked now. It responded. It endured. That alone changed everything.
"First," he continued, eyes lifting toward the road stretching beyond the town gates, "I ride a horse."
A brief pause.
"…Then I'll see how far this world lets me go."
Red snorted softly in his mind. "Starting small for someone who talks about big."
Zen's lips curved faintly. "Alexander started with a horse too."
He turned toward the stables at the edge of town, boots striking stone with quiet certainty.
Zen stepped inside the stable.
The smell hit him instantly—dung, urine, damp hay—all mixed into a heavy, suffocating stench. His brows twitched, and his nose wrinkled before he could stop himself.
The stable was dim and cramped, its wooden beams darkened by age and grime. The sharp smell of dung and stale urine hung thick in the air, mixing with the sound of horses shifting in their stalls. Hooves scraped against wood, chains rattled softly, and an occasional snort echoed through the space.
Straw lay scattered across the ground, trampled and uneven.
Zen stood there silently, taking it all in, his expression unreadable as the owner approached.
The owner of the stable came forward. He was fat.
As he walked, his stomach jiggled with each step.
Zen stared at him for a moment.
"Welcome to my stable, sir," the man said cheerfully.
"How may I assist you?"
"I need a horse," Zen said plainly.
"Certainly, sir! You can select whichever you like. We have several to choose from."
Zen followed the stable owner into the long row of stalls. Six horses stood proudly, each distinct in appearance and temperament:
Midnight – A sleek, jet-black horse with a glossy coat, muscles taut and powerful. Its eyes gleamed with intelligence, and it moved with a quiet, almost predatory grace.
Blaze – A chestnut brown with a fiery mane that seemed to dance in the light. Energetic and restless, it pawed at the ground constantly.
Storm – Steel-gray, mottled with white patches, broad-shouldered and strong. Calm but imposing, it exuded reliability.
Willow – Light beige with a soft, gentle look. Smaller in stature, nimble and quick, perfect for agility but not raw power.
Shadowfax – Pure white, almost glowing under the dim stable lights. Elegant, proud, with a noble air that made the others seem ordinary.
Ironhoof – Dark brown with a scarred flank, the veteran of many battles. Tough and enduring, but lacked the sparkle of youth.
Among them, Midnight seemed to outshine the others. Its calm, confident demeanor and gleaming black coat drew Zen's gaze immediately. It stood slightly apart, as if aware of its own superiority.
Zen stepped closer, studying it. "This one…" he muttered under his breath.
Zen nodded, excitement flickering in his eyes. "I want to try riding it, then I'll decide if I want to buy it or not."
The fat stable owner rubbed his hands together. "Possible, sir. Certainly! We have a training ground in the back of the ranch. You can monitor the horse there, make sure it suits your needs."
Zen followed him through a wooden gate that creaked with age. The training ground spread out behind the stable, a mix of dirt and grass, enclosed by a low wooden fence. The horses sniffed the air, some restless, others calm, but Midnight stood still, black coat gleaming, watching Zen with unblinking eyes.
Zen took a deep breath. "Alright… let's see what you've got."
He approached Midnight slowly, hand extended, trying to look confident. The horse snorted softly, shifting its weight.
Red's voice slithered into Zen's mind, sharp with disbelief.
"Host… you do know how to ride a horse, right?"
Zen froze, one hand hovering near Midnight's mane. "I… I've read about it," he admitted, "but I've never actually done it."
Red let out a low, mocking chuckle.
"Oh, splendid. So you're about to ride a horse you've never ridden. Brilliant plan."
Zen ignored him, forcing a grin. "How hard can it be?"
"Host… very, very hard. Prepare to look foolish," Red replied flatly.
Zen swung a leg over Midnight's back, trying to find a balance he didn't have. The horse twitched, ears flicking, then leapt forward sharply. Zen's stomach lurched.
"Hey! Stop! Stop the horse—somebody!" he shouted, clinging desperately to the reins.
Midnight didn't stop. The horse ran in tight circles, hooves kicking up dirt. The sudden motion jerked Zen violently, and he let out a frustrated yelp.
Red's voice hissed in his mind, barely suppressing laughter.
"Host… I warned you."
Zen's grip slipped. His body tilted backward, and with a thud, he fell onto the ground. Dirt and hay flew into the air as he rolled across the grass.
Midnight snorted, tossing its head, and calmly trotted back into the stable, as if nothing had happened. Zen lay sprawled on the training ground, staring at the sky.
"…I hate horses," he muttered, brushing the dirt from his clothes.
Red chuckled darkly.
"Host, that was… spectacular. Absolutely pitiful. But I must admit, entertaining."
Zen suddenly started to laugh. The stable owner ran over, shouting, "Are you okay, customer?"
Zen turned his head, eyes twinkling with amusement. His stomach jiggled with each step as he moved.
He stood, brushed the dirt from his clothes, and laughed again, louder this time.
The owner froze, scared, thinking Zen must have hit his head. He just stared at him, unsure of what to do.
Seeing the fat man hesitate, Zen's laughter subsided. He narrowed his eyes at the owner, his expression suddenly serious.
"Wasn't it funny?" Zen asked in a low, threatening voice. "Won't you laugh?"
The fat man didn't respond at first, just stared, caught under Zen's piercing gaze.
Finally, realizing he had no choice, the man let out a nervous chuckle.
Zen studied him for a long moment, silent and unblinking. Seeing Zen's expression unchanging, the man stopped laughing, his smile fading.
"Are you making fun of me?" Zen asked again, voice sharper, exuding quiet menace.
The stable owner swallowed, sweat beading on his forehead, unsure whether to answer or flee.
Red's voice echoed in Zen's mind, dripping with mock sympathy.
"Poor fool… truly stuck with my host's stupidity. I should pity him, but… where do I even start?"
Zen's glare cut through the stable air, making the owner fidget nervously.
"You… are you laughing at me?" Zen demanded, still half-amused but trying to maintain authority.
Red snorted quietly, invisible but very much present.
"Laughing? Hardly. I'm simply… observing the consequences of your choices, host. This is what happens when reading about something isn't the same as doing it."
Zen shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Stupid horse."
The fat man stammered, eyes wide. "No, I didn't, sir. I only did it because you said so, sir."
Zen's lips curved into a faint smirk. "Did I say that? I don't remember saying it."
The man froze, completely unable to process the sheer shamelessness before him. Arguing would be pointless—he knew it.
Zen leaned back slightly, voice calm and final. "Fine. I shall forgive you."
The town's gates creaked as the cart rolled over the worn cobblestones. Dust rose in small clouds, catching the sunlight that dappled through the trees lining the road. Zen sat at the front, one hand loosely gripping the reins alongside the driver, the other resting casually on his knee. His black outfit absorbed the light, giving him an almost shadow-like presence against the bright day.
The driver, a wiry man with a weathered face, guided the horse steadily, speaking little. The cart swayed gently over the uneven path, wheels creaking rhythmically in time with the horse's hooves. Zen's eyes scanned the horizon, calm but alert, taking in the rolling fields and distant hills.
Red's voice slithered into his mind, dripping with amusement.
"Poor fellow got caught in your evil plan," it hissed.
Zen shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Ho? What? I'm innocent. I didn't do anything."
"Didn't you get a discount for this cart and a driver too?" Red continued, tone sharp.
Zen waved a hand dismissively. "Ho, come on. That's skill. I used my bargaining skill."
Red's voice was flat, bordering on incredulous. "More like you threatened him."
"Ho… come on, when did I do that?" Zen asked, genuinely perplexed, though a mischievous glint lingered in his eyes.
"Shameless," Red muttered, as if it were the only logical conclusion.
The cart rumbled on, the countryside stretching endlessly ahead, golden fields giving way to patches of forest and winding streams. Zen leaned back slightly, letting the wind brush against his face, the faintest hint of a grin playing on his lips.
"Let the world see how skilled I am… or at least how entertaining I can be," he said, eyes sparkling. "All the antics I have to do just to make you laugh…"