John came out at the lobby after finding his brief back on the men’s side. The caretaker he saw before was standing near the entrance. “Over here,” the caretaker waved his hands at John.

“You finally found some pants,” said the caretaker.

“Where’s the girl?” there was no sign of anyone else besides the caretaker.

“She went back home, the chimes of the bell worried her, and it’s not a good sign,” the caretaker sounded grave.

“Is it the goblins?” John asked.

“Perhaps,” the caretaker curtly replied. His eyes were wandering as if fearing something would jump out of the shadows. “You seem like a nice guy, want to bunker down with me in my cellar? We’ll wait out until the guardsmen clear this mess.”

John’s eyes softened at this man. To think the caretaker waited here for him, a stranger, and it was enough to carve a smile on John’s face.

“Thank you for the offer, sir. But I’m not backing down without a fight and perhaps there are more people out there waiting for help,” John said.

The caretaker squeezed John’s shoulder, and said, “don’t die on me. It would be a waste to lose a good man.”

John witnessed the back of the caretaker, leaving to find safety. It warmed his heart knowing there was always good, no matter whatever world he was in.

The bell continued to chime, and John raced back to his room. With his current agility, breaking the hundred-meter record was not going to be a big deal. At times he wondered, what if Usain Bolt was here? Would the greatest sprinter of all-time max out his agility? It was one of those random things John kept thinking while being amazed by his current capabilities.

He reached the saloon and the windows broke. He ducked and covered as someone was thrown out like a rag doll. His eyes followed and witnessed the person fell and rolled. Yet the familiar cackling sound was all too common to John’s ears.

‘It’s a goblin,’ he was about to end that thing’s life before it could stand. But something ripped through the air and before he knew it, an arrow lodged right on that goblin. Then came the second, then the third. A bit overkill but nothing better than letting the enemy having the chance to survive.

“You!” a voice came from the saloon. A head peeked out from the window as the person’s eyes darted around, left and right. “Get your ass inside here.”

John lightened his steps and made it in the saloon. Yet the inside that he was used to had changed to something entirely else. Blood spilled over the walls and the floor, with the stinking smell of goblins wafting in the air. Chairs and tables broke into pieces, and while some of it stabbed right through the goblin’s heart.

“Sir Creed,” the man with the handled mustache came over with his fruit knife dripping with blood.

“You know this man, Master?” asked the one who carried a bow. Her dirty blonde hair was neatly tied in a ponytail as her blue eyes gazed at John as if she was a detective at Brooklyn nine-nine. To her, a half-naked man would always be suspicious.

“Sir Creed here is a good patron of mine. So, whatever you do…don’t be reckless, Alexa,” said the Master, wiping off the nasty blood on his fruit knife.

“Just don’t weigh us down. We’ve got enough burden to take care over here,” Alexa eyed something outside, and then an arrow flew.

‘That’s pretty cool,’ John saw firsthand how her motion transferred from one action to another. From grabbing the arrow in her quiver belt to her releasing the string that launched her deadly arrow. Everything was fluid as if it was second nature to her.

“Stop staring or I’ll put an arrow in your eye,” Alexa said with her back towards John. It was a brief glance yet she noticed it. Well with John gawking like that so obviously, who wouldn’t?

Her attitude reminded John of someone. He paid heed to the warning and retreated to the back.

“Forgive her Sir Creed,” the Master came beside John, “Alexa is a bit rough in her words, but her heart meant well.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” John waved it off as it was nothing. He had other important matters to deal with.

“You’re not staying with us?” The Master saw John heading up to the stairs.

John glanced briefly at the huddle of people near the podium where the bard used to sing and play. From one glance alone, he saw they were scared out of their wits. The look on their faces reminded him of when he was running for his dear life in Crown Deer Forest.

‘I’m not weak anymore,’ he said to himself.

“I just need to get a few things of mine,” John said. He left and got to the second floor. Reaching his room, the first thing he saw was not what expected. A lone goblin held a pouch in its hand and with the shimmering light of the gold coming from the little opening, he knew it was his.

John frowned and immediately his feet shot off the wooden floor. The unimaginable speed caught the goblin off guard, yet before it could jump down through the open window, John released a burst of pinkish cloud.

‘Scent of Bewitching,’ just from a mere thought, his spell activated in an instant. The blend of musky and jasmine drifted in the air, paralyzing the goblin in place.

He had two seconds, and it was enough for the man with crazy speed. His hand grabbed the steel sword he left on the floor and within that split second, John drew his blade.

It was a beautiful arc rising upwards as the blade cut through flesh like it was butter. Even the bone turned brittle against the haste of John’s blade. A hand holding a pouch dropped on the floor as gold coins spilled all over. Then came the shrieking of a goblin in pain. Yet the agonizing cry faded away as John kicked the goblin right at the solar plexus, sending it off the floor and flew right through the open window where it came from. The goblin fell on the old-school awning and kept rolling down until it smashed its own head to the ground.

“Fuck, the floor just got bloody,” the severed hand of the goblin was spurting what was left of its blood in its vein. John picked it up with his two fingers in a scowl and threw it out from the window.

“These goblins are everywhere,” John picked up his gold coins and stashed them back in his pouch. Tightening the knot on it, John kept it where it was the safest place.

“There,” he patted his worn-out blazer as the pouch was safe and sound in the inside pocket. He always complained of how big it was and now it finally had a use.

‘Let’s fight with clothes for a change,’ rather than using the one made by Fellelone, he used his old clothes. While in the midst of putting his pants on, the door to his room was kicked wide open.

“Sir Creed is everything…” the commotion from John’s fight made the Master rushed upstairs. The Master barged in but fell silent in his words. Meanwhile, something flew through the door.

An arrow hit right at the wall behind John, and it was close, too close from hitting his pretty face.

“Alexa!” the Master shouted to the person who almost killed his great benefactor.

“What? I thought he was stripping down,” said Alexa.

In John’s defense, that was the most bullshit excuse she could come up with. And John wasn’t going to take it lightly. He was kind but he wasn’t a pushover. When someone crossed the limit, he would pay it back with no question. In just a few strides, John was right in front of Alexa. Her eyes widened but it was too late. A resounding slap echoed crisply.

Alexa felt the sharp sting on her cheek while the Master looked in a daze. Everything happened too fast that he couldn’t even intervene.

John pointed at Alexa in the face as his glare was as sharp as a sword. “I don’t mind words but you almost hurt me, and if you do that again…” John ended it with silence. It was up to her to think what would be the consequences.

He turned back to the window and zipped up his pants. Picking up the sword and the blazer in his hand, he gave a side glance to the Master. “I trust you won’t let anyone in my room, Master?”

After seeing the nod, John jumped out through the window.

Back in his room, Alexa was still in a daze.

“Let’s go, lass, the man told us not to be here,” the Master attempted to grab her by the arm but she slapped him away.

“Who’s that prick?” Her cold, hard eyes hid a flame of vengeance behind them. “Once I see him again, I’m gonna–”

“Enough, Alexa!” the Master raised his voice. “You’re in the wrong. So let it go.”

“But he–”

“He’s a nomad, Alexa. So for once, just listen to me,” the Master pushed her away and locked the door of John’s room.

“Come, we need to secure the front entrance. There are still people that need us,” the Master left first.

While Alexa stood there with her fists clenched and her whole body twitching. Then she mumbled, “I won’t forget this.”