Finally. I cleaned up the various stains on the floor and tossed the bodies into my barn. I’ll bury them later. Before I did that, I bandaged my hand. I couldn’t risk infection. What little healing magic I knew was only able to heal small scrapes and cuts. I crossed my arms and stared at the pile of belongings the adventurers had on them. I killed them so obviously, I should be allowed to keep what they had. That was how adventurers operated, right?

Their belongings were made up of normal items like coins, extra sets of clothes, and some camping equipment. But there were other things that gave away their profession such as their armor, weapons, and, of course, a few magic potions. There was a particular thing that caught my attention amongst these belongings. A sheet of paper with instructions to steal something in a farm. The farm just on the other side of the hill.

“These fucking idiots attacked the wrong damn farm… How can someone be so god damn stupid? It even has detailed instructions on how to get to the place! I had to kill them because they mixed up their traveling directions!” I fumed as my fists trembled with barely contained rage. Realizing I was getting too angry, I took a deep breath and counted to five before exhaling slowly. I kept doing this until I managed to calm myself back down. Which took a good ten or so times to do so. The pain in my injured hand reignited itself. Looking down at it, I saw the wound was beginning to bleed again.

“God damn it! I just fucking fixed that up! I don’t have infinite mana to keep stemming the blood loss! If I did I’d have gone and become a mage! At this rate, I’ll fuck up my hand beyond repair.” I grumbled and went back to fixing up my hand. Before, the knife managed to not mess up my hand too badly, but if I kept reopening the wound then I’d end up causing some serious problems.

But back to the sheet of instructions. It seems that there was some sort of cursed artifact the person over the hill was using the artifact to send small bands of goblins to harass local caravans. Not that it really mattered to me. Sure, I needed to sell my crops, but the caravans that were being harassed were on the opposite side of the hill from the ones I typically used. Not to mention I only ever buy tools with my money.

But this guy is causing some problems… So why not take care of him myself? I did sort of kill the team that was supposed to kill him after all. I don’t want some crazed maniac to continue causing death and terror just because I accidentally killed the people who were supposed to kill him. Yeah. I might as well. Besides, I have some good equipment to use right here. Well, if any of it fits of course.

But first, there’s the problem of the corpses in my barn. They could come back as zombies so I’d have to burn them, but I don’t have much for flammable materials. And what little fire magic I know is nowhere near enough to light them on fire without the assistance of something flammable. I could always just cut some wood and build a bonfire around them. But that’s time-consuming. Wait… I think I might just have a good idea for this.

~~~~~~~~~

(30 minutes later…)

“There we go. Burn, burn, burn.” I mumbled to myself while lighting the tinder in the fireplace with a small flame. In the end, I decided to cut up the bodies into smaller, more manageable, chunks to burn in my fireplace. It was very messy work, but my wood cutting ax made short work of them. Not to mention looking at the… the damage I did to them. It is definitely one of the most fucked up sights I’ve ever seen in my 30 long years so far. And I hoped it would stay that way.

Now, all I had to do was burn chunk after chunk until there was no more. Starting with the heads of course. But as the smell of burning flesh and hair filled my nostrils, a queasy feeling began to overtake my stomach. I started gagging and pinched my nose closed.

“What a terrible smell! Why does it smell so disgusting!?” I wheezed. I hurriedly backed away from the fireplace in my desperation to get even a bit farther away from the smell. I soon found out it was far too late for escape. The smell was already in my clothes. Damn it.

~~~~~~~~

(Half an hour later...)

I’m currently standing in front of a surprisingly small hut with my shovel in hand. Thankfully, the chainmail armor the youngest adventurer I killed fit me so I did have some armor. Along with that, I decided to take a knife just in case I lost my shovel like my fight against the adventurers. This is probably the dumbest idea I’ve ever chosen to do in my entire life, but I don’t want to live the rest of my life with sleepless nights. All because I killed the adventurers who were supposed to kill some random bad guy. Sure, they tried to kill me and ended up going to the wrong farmhouse, but we all make mistakes, right?

“Well, here goes nothing… Watch out, random villain. Farmer Frank is coming for your head.”

Sniff sniff.

“My clothes still stink. Damn it.”

X237

Yeeah its a bit short and late but a new chapter is up! Enjoy it because soon we'll be adding a new tag to the story! Want to take a guess at what tag it'll be?