John opened his eyes to the wooden ceiling of an unknown room. The dragon-like head trophy mounted on the wall across him was hard not to notice. He propped himself up and looked around this strange room. Different memorabilia were neatly placed on the wall shelves, while weapons of different types lined up neatly on one side of the room. ‘Is this a bedroom or an armory?’ John wondered.

He got down from the bed, and the blanket slid off his body. The sense of freedom he felt down below made him looked down. ‘I’m naked?’ he remembered what happened last night, ‘shit, I’m naked.’

His hands grabbed the blanket on the bed, tying it around his waist. For now, it was sufficient. John had enough of people looking at his member down there, he didn’t want to repeat the same incident back in the bathhouse.

John came out from the room. The long hallway was decorated to the brim, beast head trophies scatted all over the walls as a long red carpet spread down the whole hallway. ‘Is the owner a collector or something? Or he might be a hunter, judging from all of these head trophies.’ He walked down the rough carpet on bare feet and reached the part where the first floor was visible from above.

Downstairs, sitting around on the sofas, a group of people was chattering about. One of them noticed the prying eyes from above.

“He’s up,” the Master rose from his feet and the rest followed where he was looking. The looks on their faces were beaming with a smile as if they had been sitting there, waiting for John’s arrival.

John reached the first floor. “Guys, what’s going on—” before he could finish his word, the whole lot of them knelt on one knee and bowed their heads at John.

“On behalf of the whole town, we thank you from the bottom of our heart for saving us all, Sir John Creed,” the clear voice of a man in his mid-fifties rang through the whole house. Even after thanking John, they still wouldn’t budge.

“Uh…” John was clueless. He didn’t know what to do as he could only scratch his head. “I think you guys can stand now…you don’t have to go that far for someone like me,” He wasn’t sure whether this was the proper response.

“No,” the Master said, “you deserve more than this.” His eyes were looking at John with admiration. It was different from when John gave him a gold coin.

“The Master is right,” Randal was the next one to speak. “For someone who would risk his life for ours, nothing would be enough to show our gratitude.”

John didn’t think Randal would behave like this. Shaking his head, things were getting a bit too burdensome for him.

John sighed. Then he thought of something. “And to show your gratitude, shouldn’t you at least prepare some clothes knowing that I would wake up? You guys know, I’m still naked right?”

His demand was met, and John was fully clothed in a tunic that look nothing less than in those fantasy stories. The fabric was a bit itchy, but it would do for now. Taking a seat within this group of people, John was finally informed of what had transpired after he fell unconscious.

Most of the surviving goblins fled to the woods and those stragglers who were still roaming in the town had been taken care of by the guardsmen. At the moment, the town was goblin-free.

But the flames from last night decimated almost one-eighth of the whole town. The news left John shocked but hearing the casualties only made it even worse for him. ‘Shit,’ he cursed as his fist clenched hard in silence. If he had ended it quicker, then things wouldn’t have gone this way.

The Master noticed the pained expression on John’s face. “Don’t blame yourself, Sir Creed,” the Master said. “You did what you could, and the responsibility for all of this lies upon us, the townspeople of Satbury. So, please, don’t take it out on yourself.”

“Usually I don’t agree with Hanz’s words, but the man is right. The fault lay on us and not to you…we’re already fortunate to have this town still standing,” the Mayor said his piece, agreeing with his long-time rival.

He got up off his seat and walked towards John. The man who had troubled to adjust his pants knelt in front of John and grasped his hands tightly. “Thank you, Sir Creed, thank…” tears started to trail down his chubby cheeks. The man who had the highest standing in this town was choked by emotion that he cried like a child in front of a stranger. “…Thank you for saving my beloved town.”

John didn’t know what to say. His hand floated in the air not sure of how to console the crying fifty-five-year-old man. Yet deep down, John was glad. The corners of his mouth raised a bit as at least he could be of help to someone.

“Now, now, Smith, you’re putting our savior in a tight spot here,” the Master came in between them and helped Mayor Smith on his feet.

“Hanz!” the Mayor who was still overwhelmed by emotion went for a surprise hug to Master. He cried on Hanz’s shoulder and the man with mustache let it be.

“Are they always like that?” John whispered at Randal who was sitting beside him.

“Putting aside their constant bickering, both of them are the pioneers of Satbury, and I even heard rumors that both of them in their younger days were in the same crew,” Randal said with a smile.

“I see,” John nodded. The thought of having his own crew had never crossed his mind. But having comrades covering each other backs was something comforting when he thought about it. ‘A crew, huh…doesn’t seem like a bad idea.’

After the tear-jerking moment passed. The Mayor of Satbury reclaimed his dignity and sat before John with a face befitting of a Mayor. “Sir John Creed, to you who had thrown yourself for the sake of my beloved town, what reward do you seek?” the Mayor offered with his heart full of giving. If John had asked for all of his wealth, he wouldn’t hesitate to give it all.

It didn’t take long for John to answer. “You wouldn’t have a katana laying around would you?”

“A katana?” everyone in the room was surprised by his choice of reward.

“A bold choice for a weapon,” the Mayor said, “but unfortunately, such a weapon is not within my armory.”

The Mayor turned to Hakeem. “But a certain person can make you one.”

Hakeem got up on his feet and fisted his left chest like a salute. “It would be my honor to craft a weapon for our savior,” said the smiling man with dark brown skin with a cool jewel undertone.

“You know how to make one?” John asked as the making of a katana was not that simple.

“I’ve seen the shape of one before, and I’ll be damn if I can’t make one,” Hakeem proclaimed, having confidence with his own skill.

John was disappointed. Yet he hid it behind the smile on his face. The matter of a katana wasn’t simply because of its shape as the method of making it was different than other swords especially the material being used. Nonetheless, he was happy of having one. At least he would be able to draw his sword much more smoothly compared to a broadsword.

“Good, Hakeem, and to support Sir John Creed I’ll cover the cost for everything in making that katana,” the Mayor chimed in. “And while I’m at it, use this for the blade,” the Mayor took off a ring on his ring finger and threw it to Hakeem.

The smith of Satbury snatched in the air and observed it carefully. Then his eyes bulged with his jaw dropped. Hakeem’s eyes stared at the Mayor in disbelief.

“Are you sure about that, Smith?” Hanz asked, knowing what it was.

“A thing like that is useless on my finger, might as well give it to someone who deserves it,” Mayor Smith said.

“But it’s—” Hanz tried to reason but Mayor Smith put a stop to it.

“I’ve made my decision, Hanz,” the Mayor sat with a strong posture and showed a dignified appearance, unlike when he cried like a baby.

Yet it broke a second later, “in your face, Hanz. You think you can give something better to Sir Creed?” Mayor Smith chuckled with a snickering smile. “Well, whatever in that hidden cache of yours, nothing could beat this ring of mine.” He crossed his arms and gazed at Hanz with a triumphed pose as if saying to Hanz, ‘suck that, you piece of shit.’

Hanz who had been sitting there quietly was trembling from top to bottom. He was doing his best not to stoop so low like this former comrade of his. But that arrogant gaze from Smith was the last straw. He jumped on his feet and pounced at Mayor Smith. “Fuck you, Smith!” he punched the Mayor right in the face.

But the Mayor was no slouch. “Well, fuck you too,” with a bleeding nose, Mayor Smith sent a liver blow right at the flank. The fight escalated further on the floor, as they kept grappling with each other with continuous curses coming out from their mouths.

John leaned to Randal, and whispered, “shouldn’t we stop them?”

Randal sighed. “Just enjoy the show,” he shrugged his shoulders, “they always do this when they meet.”

“Oh,” to that realization, John just sat there and watched old men having a brawl.

***

After the little show ended, John was given a feast by the bruised face Smith. It was a meal that satisfied his empty stomach, since last night's battle really took a lot in him, to the point of even falling unconscious. John left after the feast, heading back to the saloon where his room was. The others also followed him as Master Hanz offered a second feast with his drinks. But as always, Mayor Smith wouldn’t take a step inside Hanz’s saloon.

“Humph, that idiot oaf,” Hanz walked to his counter while John headed to the stairs.

“Sir Creed,” but a voice stopped him. It was Randal, “would you mind sparing some time for us?” to his sides were Hakeem and Jose.

“Yea…sure,” John said. They found themselves sitting at the edge of the saloon, away from prying ears.

“So what’s to be the–” before John could finish his word, a bag of leather pouch dropped on the table. The chinking noises from inside were something familiar to his ears.

“It’s your coins, Sir Creed,” Randal said.

The mention of his coins made him remembered that he stashed his pouch of wealth inside his blazer. His hand grabbed the leather pouch and he looked inside. The shimmering gold reflected in his eyes. He wasn’t the type that loved money that much, but he wouldn’t want to lose it.

“While we’re searching for you, we find these gold coins scattered on the dead goblins and on the ground…Something this valuable couldn’t be from this town unless it’s from you,” Randal said. “So we picked up everything we can find and here’s all sixty-nine gold coins.”

John’s eyes softened. Looking at these good-natured men in front of him swelled his heart with gratitude. If he was back on Earth, there was no way he would find these gold coins ever again. He was almost to the point of tearing up as who would have thought he would find good people in an estranged and dangerous world.

Randal noticed John's scrunching face and misunderstood. “Believe me, Sir Creed, all three of us would never take even a single coin. And if you’re missing some of them, we’ll go back and search through those goblin corpses. Perhaps some of it slipped inside the corpse of hiding beneath a pool of blood,” Randal tried his best to mend the nonexistent anger of John.

Yet rather than saying a word, John took out something from the leather pouch. He distributed them evenly in front of these three men, three gold coins laid right in front of them.

Their eyes kept glancing between John and the coins as if asking him what did these gestures mean.

“Sir Creed, this?” Randal couldn’t find the right word.

“It’s yours, three for each,” John flashed a smile.

Rather than Randal, Jose who was the most silent between the three came over to John’s side and knelt in front of him like a knight before a king. “Rather than these gold, please accept my loyalty, sir,” Jose’s voice was earnest, unlike his usual tired demeanor.

“Wait, what?” John couldn’t get any more confused. He was giving them a gift and not buying their loyalties.

“Same as I,” Hakeem did the same. “What you did for us all had been more than enough, but your graciousness won me over. I’ll vow to you, sir, that I will make the greatest katana you will ever wield.”

“Ah, guys,” Randal bent a knee, and despite the sound of unwillingness in him, his eyes showed the opposite. “I don’t know what a lowly guardsman like me can do, but whatever you ask of me, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

Out of nowhere, a blue window popped up.