The light of the morning sun shone through the tavern’s windows as Walter sat on his bed. Last night was another sleepless one. No matter how long he remained lying on his bed with his eyes closed, he simply could not fall asleep. It was as if he was physically incapable of sleeping. And contrary to what he expected, he has yet to experience the effects of sleep deprivation.

He has not slept once since he transmigrated. There was no denying it now, he no longer possessed the same body before his initial death.

As of now, he had discovered and confirmed that he had two new ‘abilities,’ The first was his ability to slow down his perception of town at his volition. The second was his ability to continue day after day feeling invigorated despite not sleeping. Neither abilities improved Walter’s physical prowess and dexterity. But then again, those were never his specialities.

Walter was first and foremost a schemer. These abilities would probably seem useless in the eyes of others. But to a conniving and manipulative strategist like Walter, these abilities were indispensable. One could even say that they were ‘tailor-made’ for him. But that fact only made his possession of these abilities all the more intriguing.

Just what is she planning?

That was when his train of thought began to stray elsewhere, towards the very being responsible for his second life. The Devil, Lucile. The more Walter thought about it, the more he was convinced that this, all of this, was part of the Devil’s machinations. It was impossible for him to accept anything else as the answer.

“I am not obligated to explain anything to you.”

“A mortal? Walter, we’re beyond that.”

“Your progress better not lead to your end.”

Lucile’s voice once again echoed within his head as he fell into deeper contemplation.

It was obvious that she had far more power than she was letting on. It was even more obvious that she had some sort of hidden plan in the works. There was no doubt Walter was one of the key pieces within her plan. Other than his newfound abilities, there were also many convenient coincidences that helped him establish himself within his world.

The caravan, the cultist raid, the blackmarket. Walter wouldn’t be where he was now if it weren’t for those three key things. The caravan provided him safe passage to Belmud, the cultists raid provided him with weapons to sell and the blackmarket provided him a person to sell said weapons to. Without those three things, he would probably be a beggar on the streets.

Yet the lucky string of events didn’t stop there. Virtually everything that happened so far occured in the perfect conditions that allowed Walter to further his own goals. So he was either very lucky or there was someone, a being with nigh-omnipotent power, pulling strings in the shadows. Being the cynical man that he is, Walter was more inclined towards the latter.

Regardless, there was nothing he can do about it if his suspicions were confirmed to be true. Nevertheless, these thoughts still prevailed in his mind for an irritatingly long amount of time.

When he eventually stopped contemplating to himself, he stood up and took the golden pocket watch from his drawer. Walking to his room’s window, he gazed out onto the clear blue skies above. A few seconds later, he turned his gaze towards his pocket watch, his mouth curving upwards into a soft smile as he did so.

It was nearly time.

…

To the South-East of Belmud, at a long dirt road was a long column of carriages carrying goods. At a pace which was neither fast nor slow, the caravan traversed steadily. To the caravan’s right was a steep upward slope which lead towards a plateau of rural grasslands which have yet to be settled on. To its left was another forest with dense vegetation.

Mounted atop his horse, Johnathan rode at the head of the caravan. His stay at Belmud didn’t last very long. He only remained there for about a week before he eventually had to ride out again with the rest of his platoon to protect another supply caravan. Although he would have loved to remain home, duty called.

The men lost during the cultist raid in his prior mission were replaced by new recruits. Mostly commoners who have completed their guardsmen training at Belmud’s castle. Unfortunately, the Lord Commander in charge of Belmud’s city garrison, Jarren Claude had no clerics to spare for them.

Instead, Jarren wrote a letter to the city of Miyani, the next destination of Johnathan’s caravan transport. The message contained within informed the Lord Commander of Miyani’s city garrison as well as the governing Eikthyrnir noble of Miyani that Johnathan’s caravan took heavy casualties. From there, Johnathan’s crew should be supplemented by clerics from Miyani.

Although he missed Karmen and the others who were lost that day, this wasn’t anything new to him. People die, it was simple as that.

However, there was one loss that they would probably not be able to replace. That one survivor of the cultist raid who has since left the service of the Eikthyrnirs after the incident, the arcane mage, Karazhan. Ever since Karmen’s death, Karazhan changed. Johnathan didn’t know what Karazhan was thinking at that time or even where he was now.

“Still thinking about what happened?”

Johnathan’s train of thought was soon broken by Tomas’s words. After he glanced behind himself, he found the young lad who had just rode up next to him. In response, Johnathan only turned his gaze forward and sighed.

“Sometimes you can’t help but think about it. But the guilt or whatever else you feel will eventually go away. They made their choice, so did we. We are all soldiers and this is what we do.”

“We die?”

Tomas replied in a somewhat doubtful tone to Johnathan. But he knew that Tomas was still young and still rather naive so he answered back in a friendly manner.

“We die serving our noble liege-lords. There’s a difference between simply dying and dying honourably.”

“But we still die- By Jumar’s name!”

Tomas interrupted himself when they came across a sudden blockade. After turning the corner, they discovered a blockade which was previously hidden by the wall of trees. Even Johnathan, who has experienced many extraordinary things in his life felt his eyeballs bulge out of his eye sockets in sheer shock.

It was a literal pile of corpses, particularly goblin corpses. All of which were in different states of decay. Altogether, the dead goblins managed to block the entire road. Their height amounted to about the same height of an average man’s waist and a rotten stench emanated out of their decaying carcasses.

“Halt the caravan!”

Johnathan instantly screamed out an order towards the others. After they slowed down to a halt, the curious guardsmen ventured out to investigate. All of them, especially the new recruits were awestruck by the pile of corpses.

“Don’t lower your guard lads! This could be a trap! Draw your swords and form a close perimetre around the caravan!”

The others obeyed his commands without question. As the guards positioned themselves around the caravan, Johnathan gave another direct order to Tomas.

“Tomas. Call Rogjick over here now.”

With a silent nod, Tomas followed his orders. Within a few short moments, Tomas has returned with Rogjick by his side, both of them still riding on their horses.

“What do you think?”

Johnathan quickly consulted Rogjick’s opinion upon seeing him.

“I think that this is bullshit.”

Rogjick responded in a voice that sounded both irritated, yet at the same time also fearful.

“First it was the cultist raid and now it’s this. The gods must have cursed us.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is how we’re going to deal with this.”

Johnathan’s reply was a lot more calm and level-headed. While he was also similarly anxious on the inside, his confident composure on the outside helped the distraught Rogjick calm down. This time, when Rogjick spoke, his voice wasn’t as fearful as before.

“Well… I guess that our only solution is to turn the caravan around, return to Belmud and report this… ‘thing’ to the Eikthyrnirs.”

“You don’t see a way for us to get to Miyani from here?”

Although Johnathan already knew the answer to his own question, he still felt the urge to ask anyway. What Rogjick said when he responded only confirmed Johnathan’s thoughts.

“There are no crossroads before this pathway and everyone here knows that there is no way for us to clear that thing.”

He moved closer towards the goblin corpses, seemingly to examine it more closely as he spoke.

“It’s best just to leave it to someone el-gah!”

At that moment, it moved. Some of the goblin corpses, in particular the ones without flesh suddenly dived on Rogjick, knocking him off his horse. With daggers or hatchets in their hands, they mauled him. The others, including Johnathan didn’t even react, instead they held their positions as their eyes fearfully watched Rogjick scream as he was hacked apart by the skeleton goblins.

While their weapons failed to pierce through his gambeson, their were others who simply slashed at his exposed face and neck. A second later, Johnathan heard a hoarse scream from beside him.

“Haaaaaah!”

Probably no longer being able to watch his comrade die in front of him, Tomas recklessly charged forward.

“No hold your position!”

Tomas ignored Johnathan’s direct order and move towards Rogjick’s position. With a downwards slash from his horse, he cleaved an undead goblin in two before he smashed the skull of another with the hilt of his blade.

“Guuaah!”

Another scream rung out from behind Johnathan, prompting him to glance behind him. There he found another guard stuck under a pile of undead goblins while others desperately attempted to fend their newfound enemies off.

Wait… Where did they come from?

Suddenly a feeling overcame him and he instinctually swung his sword to his right. He heard to sound of bones cracking as his blade beheaded an undead goblin which lunged at him. Soon sweat began to trickle down his forehead as he saw more goblins rushing out from the depths of the forest.

His initial prediction was correct, it was a trap. Surveying his surroundings, he discovered that they were surrounded. Undead goblins came from every direction. There were some that came from the forest or the blockade of bodies, others surged downhill from the slope in a careless manner.

He knew that his current situation was perilous. Most of the guards who were already engaged in combat, including Tomas were all overwhelmed by the arrival of the second wave. The cleric’s were virtually useless, their ability to heal required their patients to be in a space safe out of combat, something that was currently nigh impossible.

Yet he found that his determination has not faltered in the face of such precarious odds. With a raised voice he shouted aloud towards the remaining survivors.

“Damn it! Rally to me lads! Save who you can and rally to me at the head of the column!”

With a solemn voice, he gave what he knew was most likely his final orders.

“We’ll beat the bastards there!”

…

Back at a tavern in between the commerce district and docklands of Belmud, Walter still remained at his window with his pocket watch in hand. His gaze would alternate from the clear skies above to his pocket watch every few moments or so. His foot tapped rhythmically at the ground as he silently waited.

After remaining like that for another few minutes, he saw the small figure of a lone black raven flying in the distance. The raven ‘grew’ in size with every passing minute, its features becoming more visible as it moved closer to Walter’s position. Now, he could see the raven’s purple eyes and malnourished body as it slowed its descent.

The raven stopped in front of his window, levitating in place as it held a piece of paper in its beak.

Walter sighed contently to himself when he read the three words on the raven’s paper.

“It is done.”

Another liability had just been successfully purged.