The Kingdom of Plajo was, as generously described in ‘Boldly Killing Monsters And Heroically Collecting Men’, a wasteland. In fact, calling it a kingdom was the same as calling a bretzel world class cuisine. There was nothing awe-inspiring about their culture, schools were limited only to the prodigy of the nobles, the roads were practically nonexistent outside the capital and the people were famished and had to resort to other―often illicit―methods in order to survive for at least a day longer.

The kingdom’s soldiers were deserving of ridicule, for they were often slaves brought in from other poorer nations and received the bare minimum training required, due to an irrefutable lack of resources. Ironically enough, the kingdom’s nobles had never expressed their dissatisfaction with the current ruler, nor had they ever protested against the outrageous taxes. Why? Only the peasants were taxed.

The promiscuous sultan lived his days comfortably in his lavish palace, clothed in attire made with fabric brought from the North, indulging in his carnal desires with his harem of concubines and forcing his wife to become involved in politics in his stead. Thus, the people were harboring great animosity towards the sultan. That was all they ever discussed in the taverns: a rebellion, the next and better ruler, but definitely not any of that debauchee’s sons!...

Kleo, the original protagonist, had led an army of Revenants using her Holy Hourglass later in the novel, ultimately butchering the sultan and his family and helping another female lead take the throne.

Where was the Holy Hourglass again?

As far as Velyts could recall, it was mentioned in passing about Kleo’s fateful encounter with a faerie in the woodlands close to the border of the Dena Empire with another small nation. Kleo had scurried to the forest after being viciously attacked by a group of ogres and stumbled upon the helpful and gentle faerie, graciously offering her treasured object to Kleo―that was just how overpowered protagonists were!

Then… if he were to go to that forest himself, would he be able to receive it just as easily?

Velyts picked at his bowl of bland porridge as he cogitated over his plans for the future. They were dining at a saloon in a village close to the last sighting of the spider-like monster; the people residing there were much more disheveled than those living in the previous one, and displayed grimaces and frowns as they conversed and gulped down alcoholic drinks.

Afi pushed her chest against the table as she leaned in, her bulging bust touching its wooden surface. She lowered her voice and said, “you’ve been very quiet―a penny for your thoughts.”

Penny? Velyts thought incredulously. Pretty sure pennies don’t exist in this world? How does this idiom even make sense here?

“Have I really been? Haha…” He replied and pushed the spoon inside his mouth, his face darkening immediately as the flavor of nothingness touched his tongue. 

“Good. You should eat some more. Get back on your feet. You know...” she pointed to his slim body.

Her words soured his expression some more.

On their way to this saloon, they passed by a merchant selling mirrors and he could not resist staring at his reflection thoughtfully―and admiringly, to some degree―for a while. Due to malnutrition, the muscles had shrunk, yet his physique still surprisingly maintained its overall masculinity; his face was, indeed, much more striking than the one he used to have back in his world. He would not necessarily call himself drop-dead gorgeous, but his ego inflated greatly when Afi praised his looks once she caught him checking himself out.

Now… imagine when I’ll put on weight and grow my muscles again, Velyts pondered dreamily and instantly began gobbling up the revolting meal.

Afi looked at him and glanced at her own untouched bowl of porridge.

“Run! Run! Run, people, run!” A bearded man stumbled inside the saloon with a crazed look on his face. “He will come for you! I saw him! With my own two eyes!”

The owner was a man of placid mien for the most part, but possessed an intimidating gaze and could deliver a whirlwind of sharp ripostes quicker than one expected. Velyts knew of this since he eavesdropped in his conversations with a few drunkards.

“Two eyes? You’re blind in one! Thank the gods I won’t blind the other tonight!” He grabbed a knife and waved it in the air threateningly. “Leave before I do something unspeakable to you!”

“You have to believe me! I’ve seen him! He moves like the wind and will murder you before you can even flinch back from fear!” The partially blinded man warned gravely, yet not one individual reacted to his words, as if already accustomed to his antics. “He has a sword longer than any soldier’s, a spiked whip and shoots arrows with poisoned tips!”

“Out, you hear me?! Out!” The owner chased the man out of his saloon brandishing the knife, yelling profanities over the man’s uninterrupted declarations.

Velyts turned towards Afi, questioning with his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him. Every village has one of them,” she soothed his worries expertly and made a circular rotation with her finger close to her head.

He nodded, yet could not restrain himself from feeling a tad doubtful.

“What, you still scared?” Afi raised an eyebrow curiously, then rose to her feet with a determined expression adorning her delicate, yet powerful features. “Let’s ask him ourselves, shall we?”

Velyts could not wrap around his head as to why she was suddenly doing such a thing. “Is it necessary?”

“No, but it’s to quell your fear,” she answered happily. Apparently, she was enjoying seeing the other suffering. How unsurprising.

Kicking the bow inclined against the chair with her foot and catching it effortlessly, Afi strolled towards the exit of the saloon, uncaring whether Velyts was following her or staying inside cowardly. He was, indeed, about to step in her direction, when his eyes caught the sight of the cold glint of a metal approaching at an absurdly quick speed his face.

His survival instincts prompted him to react faster than his thoughts could keep up with; he slammed to the floor and kneeled as the dagger penetrated the wooden wall behind him, the action causing him to see black spots for a few moments due to his fatigue.

Velyts scanned the surroundings frantically for the supposed perpetrator, but could only see the few drunkards quaffing booze or snoozing on the tables. Not one individual seemed to be sober enough to even slur out a few words.

Then where? He still swept from a distance a bit cautiously when Afi came back in.

“Why’re you stalling for time? Let’s―”

She spotted the dagger stuck in the wall and impassively walked to it.

“I was attacked out of the blue!” He stuttered out anxiously. “They barely missed me!”

“No shocker, it’s from the Eagles.” It was true; the blade was cold grey steel, with a handle made of solid gold with gems encrusted upon it, resembling an eagle’s beak.

The Eagles? Velyts’ frown deepened. That infamous crime organization? Why?

“I recognize this dagger everywhere. If they’re here or have been here, then that’s anything but good news,” uttered Afi earnestly as she pocketed the dagger. “Keep  yours handy, someone may try this stunt again.”

“But… but why?!” Velyts could barely comprehend everything happening! It’s been only a day since he had transmigrated, yet the plot already deviated that much?! The Eagles were never really elaborated on in the novel, however what Velyts had managed to gather about them, was that they were driven by one purpose only―and that was, following religiously the rules set by the corrupted God of Desert at the establishment of the kingdom. And what did he have to do with them?! The rules were all about eradicating the followers of the Sun and its disciples, so please leave him out of this, thank you!

“Good question, you’re unremarkable,” Afi told him mercilessly. “We’ll have to find out, then. Let’s go and don’t get killed.”

Easier said than done, Velyts sighed, then shook his head. No, I can’t think like that! What kind of female lead would want to be saved by a wimp? Well, maybe Joy, but not all of them are like her!

In the dead of night even the lampposts ebbed to a mere inkling. The moon-bleached stoned path was lit occasionally by the dim light of the lamps as they tramped toward the owner, seemingly close to starting a physical fight with the blind man.

The saloon owner’s voice echoed down the streets. Until then, Velyts had never been afraid of silence; yet, the eerie stillness was unnerving. 

“Has your wife neglected you again? Why do you not understand that my place is off-limits for you?”

“Believe me… please, believe me, it’s all real!...” The man puffed out weakly when the owner drew the knife closer to his head.

Afi immediately intervened, “is this man lying?”

“Yes! Yes, yes and yes!” The owner nodded his head, his dusty hair bobbing up and down along with the motion. “He’s only spewing nonsense, whatever time of the day or… I don’t know! He told me that my family will pass away suddenly from an unknown disease―and do you know when he said so? Almost three years ago! Absolute nonsense! Garbage!”

The blind man grabbed his hair and pulled at it, appearing somewhat frustrated, and maybe even nervous, for some reason or another.

Feeling something was incredibly off, Afi raised her bow and placed her other hand on the blind man’s shoulder. Then, turning to the owner, she politely informed him, “I’ll be taking him with me. Need him to understand the situation better. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Oh, no, no!” The owner exaggeratedly shook his head and hands. “Take him as far away as possible! He’s insane, I’m telling you now! So, don’t expect much from this birdbrain.”

“Ah, got it.”

Once the owner left with a mumble about the pain in his old, cracky hips, Afi’s body tensed. “Three years ago…”

Velyts talked under his breath, “wasn’t there an epidemic of…?”

“That outbreak was of a pretty harmless disease, I don’t think that’s the one,” she rejected the idea Velyts was musing on right away. “It’s strange.”

What was even stranger, was how this subplot was not included in the novel. Meaning, he had no idea what was in store for the future right about this moment!

“Hey, talk,” he snapped his neck to stare at the blind man. “What’s up with that man with a long sword and all that?”

The blind man shook his head wordlessly.

“What, now that the old man’s gone, cat got your tongue?” Afi scorned him.

“No… no… it’s just, just…” His face paled.

“What is it?” Velyts quizzed him. “What’s wrong?”

The blind man exhaled shakily. “He’s… behind you.”