We reached the center of the vilge, where the “meeting” was already devolving into full-blown panic.

  People were pacing, whispering, gripping tools and kitchen knives like they were battle-ready warriors. Brent was doing his best to keep them calm, which meant a lot of yelling and angry pointing. Garron stood nearby, arms crossed and looking like he was already preparing for war.

  I rubbed my temples. “Okay, so… What’s the pn?”

  Garron looked at me. “The pn is we prepare for the worst.”

  “Oh, great. Love a pn that starts with doom and despair.”

  Elise leaned over. “You got a better idea?”

  “Well,” I said, gesturing to the crowd, “first of all, half these people couldn’t swing a stick without knocking themselves out. Second, I don’t see a single shield or even a helmet. And third, if we think we’re going to stand our ground, we’re going to die. Horribly. Probably on fire.”

  “Helpful,” Garron muttered.

  “I’m just saying,” I continued, “maybe we fake a pgue resurgence. You know—drag some of those bck tar buckets out, smear it around, groan a lot, cough on them. Really sell the whole ‘dying vilge’ aesthetic.”

  Rowan actually looked intrigued. “That’s… not the worst idea.”

  “See?” I pointed. “That’s a first. I’m innovating.”

  Elise rolled her eyes. “No, you’re panicking creatively.”

  “Same difference.”

  Garron ignored our entire conversation. “Everyone stay alert. We’ll post lookouts. If they come into the vilge, we—”

  “Hold up,” I interrupted, pulling my market menu open.

  Garron sighed. “What are you doing now?”

  “Improvising,” I muttered, browsing. “Let’s see… There. Boom. Small telescope. Only 85. You’re welcome, world.”

  The item dropped into my hand, sleek and compact. I flipped it open and pointed it toward the road in the distance.

  Elise looked at me sideways. “What’s that?”

  “Telescope.”

  “What’s it do?”

  I peered through the lens. “Magnifies distant objects. Lets me see far.”

  “That’s a thing?” Rowan asked.

  “Yeah. You medieval types are really missing out.”

  I twisted the lens slightly—then froze.

  “Oh.”

  Elise blinked. “Oh?”

  “Oh.”

  Rowan frowned. “Why do you keep saying ‘oh’?”

  “Because,” I said slowly, “either the lead bandit is a supermodel cospying as divine royalty… or we’re not dealing with bandits.”

  “What are you talking about?” Garron asked.

  I handed him the telescope. “See for yourself. Golden robes, white trim, flowing hair, glowing like she walked out of a holy painting.”

  Garron looked through the lens… and immediately went pale. “By the gods…”

  “What? What is it?” Elise asked.

  Garron lowered the telescope and turned to us, eyes wide.

  “It’s the king’s men.”

  The entire crowd fell silent.

  I blinked. “Wait… what?”

  “They’re wearing the royal crest,” Garron said, pointing toward the road. “That woman… she’s a royal cleric.”

  I paused. “…That expins the glow.”

  “Why the hell are the king’s men coming here?” Elise whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Garron said gravely. “But this changes everything.”

  I slowly turned back toward the road.

  “…She really was hot though, right?”

  Garron handed me back the telescope.

  “Boy,” he said, “you are going to get us all killed.”

  ___

  It took them half a damn day to get here, but when the royal envoy finally rolled into town, it was like someone flipped a switch on the vilgers. Everyone scrambled to look busy—sweeping dirt, pretending to fix fences, suddenly discovering an intense interest in gardening.

  Me? I was standing beside Garron, trying to look important.

  Which basically meant copying everything he did.

  He stood tall? I stood tall. He crossed his arms? I crossed mine. He nodded? I nodded.

  Except I was also staring at the royal cleric the entire time. Because, seriously… damn.

  Golden robes, flowing white trim, radiant skin, silky blonde hair that glittered in the sunlight like a shampoo commercial. And those eyes? Piercing. Like they could read your sins and file a report with heaven.

  She dismounted gracefully, her entourage fanning out behind her like a royal theater troupe. One knight in full silver armor stood guard at her side, a walking wall of polished steel with a jawline carved from stone.

  The cleric stepped forward. Her voice was calm, refined, and somehow still powerful. “By order of His Majesty, King Aldren Virelius, I have been sent to the vilge of Viskar to cleanse it of the affliction that has pgued it for far too long.”

  Garron bowed. I bowed slightly after him—about a second too te.

  “Well,” I said, grinning, “you’re a bit te for that.”

  The cleric’s gaze flicked to me. “And… who are you?”

  I puffed out my chest. “Dan. Savior of all mankind.”

  SMACK.

  Garron elbowed me hard in the ribs. “Forgive him, High Cleric. He cks manners… and humility.”

  “It’s fine,” the cleric said, eyeing me suspiciously. “I will judge for myself whether the vilgers are truly cured.”

  “Be my guest,” I said, rubbing my ribs. “I’ll even get you a tour guide, complete with awkward commentary.”

  Her brow twitched. I couldn’t tell if she was amused or trying to decide if I was possessed.

  “But,” she continued, “that is not the sole reason I am here.”

  Garron tensed. I could already feel the ominous tone brewing in her voice.

  “The vilge of Viskar,” she said, “has not paid its due in over a year. His Majesty has sent men to collect what is owed. Both in coin and resources.”

  And just like that, everyone forgot about the fancy robes and glowing aura.

  Dan.exe stopped working.

  I slowly started stepping backward. “Well… sounds like a vilge problem, so I’ll just—”

  Garron grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me back into pce. “You’ll want to speak with Dan. He’s recently been appointed the overseer of our resources and financial records.”

  I blinked. “I was?”

  The cleric blinked. “He was?”

  We said it in unison.

  I turned toward her with a cheeky grin. “Jinx. You owe me a date.”

  CLINK.

  One of the silver-armored guards took a step forward, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword.

  I held up my hands. “Haha, just kidding. Totally joking. Kind of. But hey, if the option’s still open, I’m just saying—I’m a great conversationalist, I cook, I tell jokes, and I can buy you things like bottled water and cup noodles.”

  The cleric sighed. “This is going to be a long day.”

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered.

  And just like that, my peaceful, post-disease life crumbled again.

  Because guess what?

  Now I had to lie about being an accountant.

  The royal cleric raised an elegant brow, hands folded neatly in front of her golden robes. “I am High Cleric Seraphina Valebright,” she said. “First Order Priestess of the Radiant Fme, Advisor to the Royal Ministry of Health, and Envoy of His Majesty the King.”

  I blinked. Then blinked again.

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s… a lot of titles.”

  Seraphina inclined her head slightly. “I earned every one.”

  “I believe it,” I muttered under my breath. “You look like someone who’s never failed a single test in her life.”

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Just admiring your… administrative achievements.”

  She narrowed her eyes, but turned to Garron. “I’d like to begin reviewing your current inventory and ledgers. The kingdom needs to assess the extent of unpaid dues and required recompense.”

  Garron didn’t even flinch. “Of course. As I said—Dan will assist you with that.”

  Seraphina turned to me again. “Very well, Mr. Dan. Show me your records.”

  “Right!” I cpped my hands, trying to stall while my brain did cartwheels. “Ledges. I mean, ledgers. The record ledges. Of all the records.”

  “…Do you have them?”

  “Absolutely!” I gave her a confident smile. “I’ve got them right here.”

  She looked at my empty hands.

  “…In my head,” I added quickly. “Mental accounting. Very cutting-edge stuff. You know, new wave of fiscal management. Streamlined. Efficient.”

  Seraphina blinked slowly. “You’re telling me… you’re keeping track of the vilge’s taxes in your head?”

  “Yup.”

  “And how much have you collected?”

  “Oh, tons. Definitely… at least—uh—well… a lot.”

  Garron let out a loud cough that suspiciously sounded like he was trying not to ugh.

  “Would you care to be more specific?” Seraphina asked.

  “Sure. Let me just do some quick calcutions.” I closed my eyes and tapped my forehead dramatically like I was unlocking the secrets of the universe. “Carry the one… subtract the expenses… factor in the exchange rate… aha!”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  “Zero,” I said proudly. “We have exactly zero in outstanding funds.”

  Seraphina stared at me.

  I stared back.

  She turned to Garron. “Is he always like this?”

  Garron sighed. “Unfortunately.”

  Seraphina exhaled. “I expected disorganization. I did not expect… whatever this is.”

  “Hey!” I said, hand over my heart. “I am doing my best. Do you know how hard it is to run a vilge economy with no economy? The only thing people here trade is dirt and trauma.”

  Seraphina rubbed her temples. “This is ridiculous.”

  “Welcome to my life.”

  She turned and walked a few steps away, speaking quietly to one of her knights. I caught a few words: “investigation,” “backdated taxes,” and “maybe cursed.”

  I looked at Garron. “Did she just say I might be cursed?”

  Garron gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I mean… can you bme her?”

  I groaned and slumped against the nearest post. Elise walked by, munching on a carrot she definitely didn’t buy and smirked. “Having fun pying vilge treasurer?”

  “I hate you.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “…Yeah, I don’t.”

  Seraphina returned, gaze sharp again. “I will be conducting a full assessment of your vilge’s health and resources. In the meantime, please gather your documentation—or at the very least, attempt to act like you have documentation.”

  “Define ‘act,’” I said.

  She ignored me and walked off with her entourage.

  I sighed. “You know what? This was a mistake. I should’ve just stayed home. Pyed video games. Married Brenda. Adopted another cat.”

  Elise grinned. “But then who would entertain us?”

  “I’m not here to be your entertainment.”

  “Too te.”

  Seraphina moved with the grace of a queen and the efficiency of a tax collector. Her golden robes fluttered behind her as she inspected each vilger with a meticulous gaze, stopping to ask questions, check pulses, and make notes on a scroll that looked way too long for a vilge this small.

  I stood off to the side, trying to look important while not being involved. Elise leaned against the nearest wall, watching everything with that smug, half-bored expression that made me want to throw a rock at her. Lovingly, of course.

  Seraphina moved to the st patient, asked a few questions, and straightened. “Well… this is unusual,” she said, voice neutral.

  “Unusual good or unusual bad?” I asked, already bracing myself.

  She looked at me. “These people are… healthy.”

  “Yup,” I said, with a finger gun.

  “They were infected with a magically-induced disease cast by a fifth-circle spell.”

  “Still true.”

  “And now they are completely fine, despite the fact that we never issued a cure.”

  “I mean… you didn’t.”

  Seraphina narrowed her eyes. “Expin.”

  I grinned and tapped my temple. “Resourceful minds and innovative solutions. That’s how we do things around here.”

  Seraphina turned slowly to Garron. “I would like a detailed breakdown of how this vilge created a countermeasure for Malefic Decay—without formal support from the capital, or access to high-tier ingredients.”

  “Ah,” Garron said carefully, “that’s where Dan comes in.”

  She turned back to me, eyebrows raised.

  I smiled. “Surprise!”

  Seraphina exhaled. “You’re telling me you found a cure.”

  “Well, technically I didn’t make the cure. But I did fund the cure, coordinate the cure, and purchase the most expensive piece of the cure.”

  “Using what money?”

  “Crowdfunding,” I said proudly.

  “Crowd… what?”

  “Never mind. The important thing is—it worked. Everyone’s alive, nobody’s vomiting tar anymore, and we’re all still traumatized but breathing.”

  Seraphina looked almost impressed. Almost.

  Then she gnced toward the map Garron had handed her earlier and frowned. “There’s a mine marked here. Near the eastern hills.”

  “Oh yeah, the spider cave,” I said before my brain could stop me.

  Seraphina slowly turned. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Nothing!” I waved my hands. “I mean yes. That’s a mine. It’s definitely a mine. Super abandoned. Completely unusable. Not worth checking out at all.”

  Her frown deepened. “Why would it be marked if it’s abandoned?”

  “Sentimental value?” I offered weakly.

  She narrowed her eyes. “This region is known for rich mineral veins—silver, iron, and even small traces of mana-infused crystal. That mine is listed in the royal archives.”

  “Wow, that’s… fascinating. Please, tell me more,” I said while already scheming.

  Elise squinted at me. “You’re pnning something, aren’t you?”

  “I have no idea what you mean,” I said, entirely full of shit.

  Seraphina continued. “If those veins are still active, it would expin the kingdom’s continued interest in this vilge—despite its dwindling popution.”

  “Yup, makes sense,” I nodded. “And you know, if someone were to go explore that mine, hypothetically, and if they found a way to clear it out, then maybe all of this would pay off for everyone.”

  She tilted her head. “Are you suggesting we mount an expedition?”

  “Me? Nooo. I wouldn’t dream of putting such a noble, radiant, very-well-armored royal envoy in danger.”

  Elise groaned. “Dan…”

  “But, you know,” I continued, ignoring her, “if someone like, say, you happened to go look into it with your very shiny soldiers… maybe you’d find it infested with monsters. Maybe even an ogre.”

  Seraphina froze. “Did you say ogre?”

  I winced. “Okay, look, don’t freak out—”

  “There’s an ogre in royal territory?”

  “Allegedly.”

  “And you didn’t think to report this sooner?”

  “I was going to send a raven,” I lied.

  She turned sharply toward her knights. “Prepare a scouting party. I want that mine assessed immediately.”

  Dan grinned behind her back. Hook, line, and royal bait deployed.

  Elise looked at me like she was watching someone dig their own grave with a spoon. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

  “Or,” I said, “I just convinced the king’s elite to do our dirty work for free.”

  “…Or,” she repeated, “we all die horribly when that ogre uses their heads as soccer balls.”

  “Gss half full, Elise. Gss half full.”

  The knights had already begun assembling outside the vilge, sharpening weapons, polishing armor, and looking far too professional for my comfort. Meanwhile, Seraphina stood in the vilge center, speaking with Garron about the logistics of sending scouts to the mine.

  I wasn’t paying attention to any of that. I was too busy chewing on a question that’d been bugging me since the moment she walked in.

  So, naturally, I did what any logical person would do.

  I walked straight up to the most powerful person in the vilge right now and poked the proverbial bear.

  “Hey, uh… Seraphina,” I said, trying to sound casual but probably sounding like I was about to sell her a used wagon.

  She turned to me, expression unreadable. “Yes?”

  “I’ve just been wondering… how did you know the name of the disease?”

  Garron raised a brow at me. Elise subtly tilted her head, curious. Seraphina didn’t blink.

  “I mean,” I continued, “you said it was Malefic Decay, a fifth circle curse. That’s pretty specific. How’d you figure that out before even arriving?”

  Seraphina studied me for a moment, then answered. “Because this vilge wasn’t the first.”

  That… was not the answer I expected.

  “There’ve been outbreaks in other vilges across the kingdom,” she expined, her voice low and serious. “Small, remote settlements. All brushed off at first. People assumed it was a natural illness, bad harvest, foul water. But when symptoms lined up and survivors described a hooded stranger passing through beforehand…”

  She shook her head. “The researchers compared the symptoms, effects, and progression. It aligned with a known curse—one cast only by a fifth circle mage.”

  I blinked. “So… this whole time, you knew it was something bigger?”

  Seraphina nodded. “The capital only confirmed it recently. By then, we’d already lost dozens—possibly more. It spread too quickly for standard healers to contain.”

  Elise gnced my way, brow furrowed. “So… did you catch the one who cast it?”

  Seraphina’s lips thinned. “No. No one knows who they are. Only that they left chaos behind.”

  “Well, that’s terrifying,” I muttered.

  Seraphina eyed me again. “Which brings me to my next concern.”

  Here we go.

  “You cim you cured the vilgers… how, exactly?”

  I grinned. “Trade secret.”

  “That’s not acceptable.”

  “Alright, alright,” I raised my hands. “Well… I didn’t exactly ‘cure’ them myself. It was a group effort.”

  “And who in this vilge is a qualified mage?” she pressed.

  “Technically? No one.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Then expin how you countered a fifth circle curse without a single trained spellcaster.”

  I tilted my head and smiled. “Simple. We did what you did.”

  Seraphina blinked. “Excuse me?”

  "We did what you did." I repeated without missing a beat.

  Seraphina loooked highly confused so that was great. "You... purified holy water? From a sixth-circle priest? Then distributed it around to the sick and dying?"

  Okay, I could understand the 'I can't believe what you're saying' tone. But was it really that hard to cure?

  “You said it yourself—your sixth-circle priests purified holy water and distributed it, right?”

  “Yes…”

  “Well, we did something simir. A little holy water here, a dash of ingredients there, and voi—miracle healing!” I waved my arms dramatically.

  “That’s not how alchemy works.”

  “It is now,” I said confidently.

  Seraphina looked utterly unconvinced. “You… expect me to believe this?”

  “Look around. People are alive, color’s returned to their faces, and no one’s hacking up bck sludge anymore.”

  “Some still look sick.”

  “Residual symptoms,” I said, completely making it up. “It’ll fade soon. You know how curses are—very clingy.”

  Garron coughed into his hand. Elise stared at the sky like she was asking the gods for patience.

  Seraphina rubbed her temple. “I’ll need a sample of this so-called cure.”

  “Can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s a very sensitive mix. Doesn’t travel well. You know how it is.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, trust me, it does.”

  She folded her arms. “Are you a mage?”

  “No.”

  “A priest?”

  “God no.”

  “Then how did you even—”

  I cut her off with a winning smile. “Like I said: teamwork, faith… and a little creative problem-solving.”

  She stared at me for a long moment. “You are the most suspicious man I’ve met in a decade.”

  “That’s fair,” I nodded. “But I’m also the most effective.”

  Elise groaned. Garron muttered something about “worse every day.”

  But Seraphina, despite everything, didn’t press further.

  At least… not yet.

  Seraphina stared at me like she was still trying to decide if I was a fraud, an idiot, or both.

  I, naturally, smiled back with the smug confidence of a man who absolutely had no idea what he was doing but was committed to the bit anyway.

  “Well,” I said, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulder. “I could potentially—hypothetically, of course—tell you all the ingredients used in the cure.”

  Seraphina’s expression didn’t change.

  “Hypothetically,” I added again, just in case she missed it.

  She raised a single, elegant eyebrow. “And hypothetically, I could have you stripped naked, bound, and stoned to death in the vilge square.”

  I took an instinctive step back. “Okay. First of all—bit harsh.”

  Elise chuckled under her breath. Garron pretended not to hear.

  “I thought you were a priest,” I said, hands half-raised. “You know… healing, compassion, forgiveness?”

  “I am a priest,” Seraphina said calmly. “I just happen to believe some sins require a firm hand and a rge rock.”

  I cleared my throat. “Right. Good to know. Point taken.”

  She stared at me.

  I stared back.

  Then I leaned in slightly, dropping my voice to the smoothest tone I could muster. “But I’m also a businessman. And I have a very rare product—a miracle cure, if you will.”

  “Oh gods,” Elise muttered, facepalming.

  “So,” I continued, grinning, “for the incredibly generous, never-before-seen bargain price of—drumroll, please—thirty-five gold coins, I could part with the secret recipe.”

  Seraphina’s lips parted slightly, then she tilted her head and gave me a long, unreadable look. “Thirty-five.”

  “Yup.”

  “Coins.”

  “Gold ones. Very shiny.”

  “And what exactly would I be paying for?”

  “The full cure recipe, all the ingredients, the process, the precise boiling temperature, and maybe even a heartfelt thank you card.”

  “You’re delusional.”

  “I’m practical.”

  “You’re a con artist.”

  “I’m an innovator.”

  “You’re not worth one gold coin.”

  “Yet here you are, standing in a vilge full of people I cured.”

  That shut her up for a second.

  I smiled. Victory.

  “Besides,” I added, “isn’t knowledge like this valuable to your kingdom? Think of the lives you could save. The vilges you could help. The diseases you could cure.”

  Seraphina’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  I pressed on. “And what’s thirty-five gold coins to a royal treasury, really? A rounding error? A tip at a noble’s dinner party?”

  Garron pinched the bridge of his nose. Elise looked like she was trying not to ugh.

  Seraphina, to her credit, didn’t explode. She just gave me a long, thoughtful look, then said, “You really don’t know when to stop talking, do you?”

  “Nope,” I said proudly. “It’s one of my best traits.”

  She turned to Garron. “You’ve put him in charge of vilge funds?”

  Garron grunted. “Don’t ask me how it happened.”

  “I’m regretting coming here already,” she said, mostly to herself.

  “I’m regretting standing in front of you without a contract signed,” I replied.

  She shot me a look.

  I smiled wider.

  This was going well.

  Probably.

  Maybe.

  Possibly.

  Unless she really did go get that rope and a pile of rocks.