——Hero, hero? Are you alright?
The priestess said in a gentle, warm tone.
The two were sitting in a cart, Wen gazing at the countryside landscape of another world—vast, flourishing plains, fertile and unpolluted, a magnificent bright sun, and various races such as dwarves, demi-humans, and half-giants coexisting together.
——So, priestess, why didn't you choose the others? They're much stronger than me.
Wen asked with a doubtful tone, worried about a possible betrayal.
——And so, hero-nim? Strength doesn't define a hero… but the soul and character!
The priestess replied cheerfully, taking Wen's hand. Wen turned his gaze away in shame.
——Hero, where exactly do you come from? Each of the summoned beings comes from a different universe, but you...
The priestess murmured, with a gloomy expression.
——A world where you'd already be dead.
Wen said in a cold voice, haunted by the memories of those monsters with white eyes, of families devoured alive, of best friends torn apart and eaten by the infected... Wen placed a hand on his face, haunted.
——Everything will be better now...
The priestess murmured sadly, moved by the young man's pain. Wen gave a faint smile. The first time he's been comforted, he thought.
——Sir hero and priestess, we've arrived at the forge!
The cart driver shouted.
They were in a medieval town, with gravel roads and protected by old militias. For such a large town, is this the protection? Wen thought.
——Are you coming, hero?!
The priestess joyfully exclaimed, taking Wen's hand and pulling him inside the forge. Inside, they found a luxurious shop filled with legendary swords, some adorned with rubies, others with pure golden accents.
——What can I do for you?
The blacksmith asked cheerfully.
——I am the fifth hero, and I want a weapon.
Wen replied enthusiastically. The blacksmith's radiant expression disappeared instantly as his gaze darkened, and he exchanged a look of pity with Wen.
The priestess responded with a sly, mischievous smile, and the blacksmith understood: If he talks, he'll be killed by the Inquisition.
——I don't care that you're a hero...
The blacksmith sighed.
As long as you're a good customer.
——I'll take this sword.
Wen pointed at an Asian sword.
——Oh..? A sword from the Zhenhai Empire, I see you have taste.
He chuckled.
I'll give it to you for 16 silver coins.
——What?! That's too expensive! 12 silver coins and two copper ones.
——Are you kidding me?! That's not even the cost of maintenance!
The blacksmith grabbed Wen by the collar, but the priestess pushed him back with a gesture.
——That's enough, hero. The king has given us the necessary funds.
The priestess asked coldly,
Tell me, if we return it, what price would you buy it back for?
——11 silver coins.
The blacksmith responded curtly.
—Hey, wait, why are you asking that?!
Wen scolded with animosity. The priestess gave him a benevolent smile.
——Hero... when you get better spoils from Zhenhai, we won't need it anymore.
The beautiful priestess warmly took one of Wen's arms. Wen blushed in shame, and once the shopping was done, the two of them left.