At the gate to Harvent Canton, a guard looked up with curiosity as I approached. "Are you looking to cross?" asked a familiar voice. "Wait, Robin?"

  "Oh, you're on this side of the gate this time?" I asked the soldier—the same one who'd spoken to me on the way out of Harvent Canton. For a brief moment, I wondered how she recognised me, but on top of the lack of foot traffic between cantons at the time, an unaccompanied child probably would have stood out.

  Besides, I remembered her, and she probably had higher Memory than me.

  "Indeed I am," she answered. "If I ask you to state your business, am I going to get a truthful answer this time?"

  "Hey," I complained after spending a couple of seconds to recall how our previous conversation went. "I was perfectly truthful last time."

  She snorted. "Yes, you were. I see you've not only joined the adventurers' guild, but in less than a month, have made it to C rank. However, I was referring to a number of rather explosive missives that you failed to declare."

  "In my defence, I'm fairly sure they saved the kingdom," I said, wondering how she knew my guild rank. From the way she was peering at me, I had a suspicion that her 'I see' was completely literal. For all the reading I'd done in the adventurers' guild's library, I'd not come across anything about the sort of Skills that permitted guards to pick up on my [Murderer II] or detect lies. They weren't the sort of Skills that adventurers would find useful, on top of presumably being as heavily restricted as combat Skills.

  "True, but what exactly happened between King Robeld and Count Harvent is substantially above my pay grade. Frankly, I'm glad I didn't get involved, given the death toll. But I do still need to ask your business so I can write something in the logbook."

  "I'm on a god-given task to stop two worlds colliding and killing everyone and everything on this planet."

  "... So that'll be 'official state business', then," she said resignedly. "You don't seem to be carrying much, though. I trust you have a storage item of some sort on you? Despite the conclusion of the rebellion, and the gradual resumption of trade coming this way, it'll be some time before food is readily available again on the other side."

  "Yes, I have food," I answered, raising the finger that held my loaned ring.

  "Good. Go on through, then."

  I nodded politely and stepped through the gate, not being ushered into the wall to meet with an inspector this time. Maybe they were more lax with travellers heading out of the royal canton rather than in, or maybe it had something to do with the way she knew I'd been involved with the events of Harvent Canton. Either way, I wasn't going to complain.

  "Oh, and Robin?" she called.

  "Yes?" I asked, peering back over my shoulder.

  "Good luck."

  I blinked. "Thanks?"

  "Why so uncertain? It can't have escaped your notice that I live on this planet, so I'd quite like you to succeed in preventing me from getting killed."

  "Fair. It's just that I'm surprised you took that statement at face value, lie detection Skill or not."

  She snorted. "If you were trying to be misleading, you'd have gone with something less stupid-sounding. To make a claim so blatantly ridiculous, it has to be the truth, albeit with an extra serving of snark."

  That made me laugh in turn. "Maybe," I admitted. "Hey, this is probably against procedure or etiquette or something, but can I ask your name?"

  "I don't see why not. I'm Christine."

  "Nice meeting you again, then, and I promise I'll do my best not to let our world crash," I said with a wave as I resumed my journey.

  Not that she'd know even if I failed, given that the crash was still centuries away. She'd just get eaten by undead instead, apparently.

  I kinda enjoyed making these casual acquaintances, just like with Melody the maid. It wasn't likely we'd meet again, except by chance if I found myself heading through the gate once more, but it was still pleasant just to talk to someone and have them treat me as just another regular person.

  Well, maybe not completely regular, but at least not treating me as if I wasn't someone she should associate with.

  No-one else interrupted me as I walked into Harvent Canton, speeding up slightly thanks to the mention of food. Bringing up my storage ring had reminded me of what was inside it, and I was looking forward to lunch. Before leaving the sapphire city, on top of other necessary equipment and consumables, I'd loaded the ring with so much food and water that I'd be able to survive on it for a few months.

  Alas, the storage ring I'd been given wasn't so high end that it would prevent all decay, so the bulk of that food was stuff that would last. Dried meats, nuts, jams, and—throwing me back to the simple days before I'd been discovered by Baron Cargellen's inspector—bricks of bread that, should I lose my daggers, I could probably bludgeon monsters to death with.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Could I pop to Cargellen Canton on my way? It would be a bit of a detour, but I wanted to see my family again, especially after the short chat with Christine had left me feeling nostalgic for regular human interaction.

  Maybe not. Given the rush the gods seemed to be in, they probably wouldn't take kindly to detours, and I didn't want to risk more lightning bolts. The once had been terrifying enough, despite it not having been directed at me. Perhaps I'd visit on my way back.

  Anyway, food! What I'd bought in the sapphire city hadn't all been long-lasting field rations, but the fresh stuff was both sparse and not particularly exciting. Some nice fruits, but not proper cooked meals—the ring wouldn't keep them hot, even if it kept food and plate together as a single unit. Therefore, when I'd visited the Raptor Steppe, I'd made sure to butcher a corpse and bring a few cuts of meat with me. With my storage ring, I didn't need to worry about the raw flesh contaminating anything else, and I had plenty of spare space in there, so why not? I knew well that monster meat provided no nutrition, but right now, that didn't matter: I had my field rations for that. What I wanted was to use [Cooking] for the first time. What I'd make wouldn't be as good as anything from any decent inn or restaurant, with their cooks' better Skills, but at least it would be mine.

  Despite how excited I'd been at the prospect back when I'd first learnt the Skill, I felt I could have done without [Cooking]. I simply hadn't used it. I didn't own my own home, and when travelling, I didn't have the storage or time to make anything complex. Given that I'd probably use it in the future, I was loath to call it a complete waste of a skill point—unlike [Fishing], which I was probably never going to do anything with—but I did want to prepare a meal complex enough to earn experience sooner rather than later.

  It was a shame I couldn't refund skill points, or I'd take back [Farming], as well as [Fishing], for a total of six points. [Adept Foraging] I intended to keep; I could think of multiple situations in which it could prove vital, and if anything went wrong in the jungle, it might just save my life. Here in the kingdom, we were plunging toward the depths of winter, and forests on this side of the mithril mountains had little left to forage. The Jungle of Braccus, however, was warmer throughout the year, and had milder winters. I may well be able to survive there without stored food. Or, at least, I may well manage not to die of starvation. No rank of [Foraging] would help me survive being eaten by a monster.

  And speaking of monsters, half an hour after passing through the gate, I took a break for lunch, moving a little off the road and getting a small fire going. Chunks of raptor flesh, seared over a campfire, seasoned with nothing more than a pinch of salt. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

  The experience was a pittance. Conquering the Raptor Steppe had been sufficient for a level, but I'd need to cook nearly two thousand meals like that for my next one, and that was with my bonuses.

  How many meals would a chef cook per day? Dozens? Could they do a hundred? More? And they'd have the Skill at a higher stage—or rather, a higher rank—than me. Would that give them a reasonable rate of experience gain? I didn't really know enough about the profession to calculate concrete numbers, nor was I sure what rewards the System would grant for making multiple copies of the same recipe, but while I suspected the experience would be pretty decent, I was certain it wasn't at the level of farming dungeons.

  Alas, cooked raptor meat turned out to be rather unpleasant. Dry, with a slight astringency. It was, on the whole, not a great success, so I disposed of the rest from my storage before it had a chance to go bad.

  Still, my goal was accomplished. I'd earned experience for cooking. No-one could complain that the Skill was a complete waste. Just an almost complete one.

  With the break over, I continued my trek south. The canton was as barren as I remembered, but not quite as deserted. I passed multiple caravans heading north-west, all of which ignored me. Perhaps [Expert Stealth] helped, but if so, it didn't feel the need to award me experience. Maybe the canton was so screwed up that no-one thought to question why a lone child was walking the road, and merchants were rich enough that a lone child wouldn't be a tempting target no matter how unscrupulous they were.

  Although, despite them ignoring me, there was one caravan that I couldn't ignore.

  "You," I growled at one of its guards, feeling an anger bubbling up that I hadn't felt since seeing my old soul crystal in Terminus Septem.

  The guard peered at me in incomprehension for a few seconds, before recognition bloomed on his face. "You!" he echoed, reaching for a sword at his belt.

  "Oh, by all means. Please attack me," I spat as I silently prepared [Lightning Shock]. I knew he had no real combat Skills. There was no way he could take me. If I attacked him, I'd probably find the entire caravan descending on me, but if he started it, I could claim self defence.

  Alas, the former bandit removed his hand from his hilt, and turned away. "Sorry," he said to the driver of the cart he was walking alongside.

  "Someone you know?" asked the driver, eyeing me with suspicion and just a touch of hostility.

  "That man is a former bandit," I answered for him angrily. "Part of a gang that kidnapped me. Then he started a riot in Greyforge and triggered a spot of divine lightning."

  "That man is part of a group that kept Greyforge—myself included—fed and safe while the count went insane and the king left us to die," countered the driver calmly.

  I couldn't help but notice that all the guards had hands on hilts, and me calling the bandit a bandit had done nothing to reduce the hostility. Rather, it was the opposite. All of them were glaring at me like a piece of garbage. There were three wagons in the caravan, with eight visible guards outside, plus the drivers and anyone who happened to be hiding inside a wagon. Thankfully, nothing escalated, and no-one drew a weapon.

  With the amount I'd grown since my last visit to the canton, there was a good chance I could win, should a fight break out. At least, as long as none of the guards were high-levelled or skilled. I thought it unlikely; if they'd recruited that bandit, properly qualified guards must be in short supply. But I didn't want to risk it.

  "And the lightning?" I prodded.

  "You think I'm stupid enough to set fire to a temple?" complained the bandit. "I had nothing to do with that, but the fact that you pushed anyone far enough that they felt the need to do that proves that you're the evil one here."

  It took every ounce of self control I had to not cast [Lightning Shock] there and then. Rather, I cancelled the spell before my restraint slipped, and sped-walked away from the caravan instead. None of them said anything more.

  These were the people I'd worried so much about? The people of this canton really saw me as the evil one, and Leo's thugs as the good guys, after everything I'd done to save them? If not for knowing the place contained people like Bishop Cornelius, I might have felt regret that I didn't just let them die. It was a shame not all social encounters could be as pleasant as Christine or Melody.

  Patreon.