Chapter 37

Chapter Five Gastan Gastan was famous for its grain exports, making it a significant source of supplies for the neighboring countries—and a prime target for the Demon Lord’s army. As soon as we arrived, we headed to our client, the village chief, to negotiate. His house was only a little fancier than what the other villagers had. The thatching was simple, and even the chairs and table we sat at showed their age. It was clear he didn’t have it easy. “Your reward ain’t gonna cut it,” I said to the village chief. “No knight or adventurer would take on this job, you know. We’ll clean up those monsters for you if you give us ten times more. What do you say?” The Demon Lord’s army still hadn’t invaded Gastan proper. But the supply route, an important source of rations, was under threat. You had to hand it to the demons. They knew how to get under the humans’ skin. “Unfortunately, our village doesn’t have that much money at the moment. We’ve been selling our grain cheaply to serve as rations, and it hasn’t left us with much to spare.” He might have been the village chief, but the man was dressed no differently from the other old farts in this town. His face and hands had the deep creases unique to people who had worked nonstop for many long years. He didn’t seem to be lying. This village was obliged to shortchange itself “for the sake of the war effort.” I’d seen this song and dance many times. You could push all kinds of BS on people if it was for a great cause. To be fair, though, if the humans lost the battle, the Demon Lord’s army would reach the village and burn the fields down. “No big deal. You can pay me in grain. I’ve got connections with merchants. I’ll get them to buy it at a higher price than what the state’s gonna offer.” “But that could make it impossible to secure the amount of supplies the country needs.” This old guy sure took things seriously. He was the ideal peasant as far as the nobility was concerned. “That’s easy. We just need to kill the monsters while we’re transporting the goods. Then we can take the grain. Solves everything, right?” The simple, honest village chief had a look of abject disbelief on his face. “You mean to swipe the grain for yourself?!” “You’re not keeping that grain either way. If we don’t guard it, the monsters’ll nab it. Do you want to keep getting attacked forever, or do you want to close your eyes to a bit of backroom dealing? I’ll leave the decision up to you.” The village chief clutched his head in his hands. I was totally the bad guy here. Oof. “Give it a good think, Chief. If you turn down my offer, those monsters are gonna keep coming after that grain when it’s on the road. That makes nobody happy, other than the monsters gorging themselves on it. Besides, I bet they think it’s a pain in the ass to sit around waiting for the wagons, not even knowing when they’ll pass through.” “…What do you mean?” There was a dark look in the village chief’s eyes. “I’m saying the monsters could start attacking Gastan directly. The soldiers aren’t gonna be at their best on an empty stomach. The Demon Lord’s army would be free to do whatever they want. They might change tack from attacking the individual wagons to burning all the fields. That’s what I’d do if I were them. Who wouldn’t?” “I, well, that is…” The chief had no words to refute my pessimistic prediction. A short bit of silence later, the weary old man agreed to my proposal. That night, the Prophet reared their head in my room once again. No matter how many times I swatted them away, they kept coming back for more. They sure didn’t know when to quit. “Why did you ask for an unjust reward?” The Prophet tended to be neutral with their word choices, but I could tell from their tone that they were pissed. “Unjust? Nah. It was fair compensation. If you’ve got a problem with that, go do the job yourself. Pro bono. I’m sure the village chief would jump for joy. The kingdom would, too. The only ones losing out would be you and the monsters. Not a bad thing for humanity if the nonhumans duked it out.” “…I do not possess that power.” “So, what? You’re telling us to do what you can’t do yourself, and at a rip-off? Is your job to be a priest who gives cheap sermons or what?” “I cannot be a priest. I do not possess the right.” There was a slight tremor in that statement. “Well, aren’t you full of excuses? It’s not about what you can and can’t do. Just go out there and try. You can save the smug lecturing for after that. Who’s gonna trust someone who’s all talk?” “…The Prophet serves to guide the Hero. They cannot do anything else.” The Prophet’s voice was getting weaker and weaker. “Don’t be so presumptuous. Stop discounting yourself. You might be some weird ghost thing, but you could become human if you put your mind to it, eh?” I shrugged. I wanted to cut this uncomfortable conversation short and go to bed. “Then you could be an adventurer, find some party members, and go take down that Demon Lord. You won’t live long, and I can’t say I’d recommend it, but hey, isn’t that your idea of a productive life?” “I am no ghost. I am a human, much like you. I cannot become an adventurer at my age. I cannot do anything.” The Prophet took my jest seriously, and now they were getting all defensive. A human, though? Was the Prophet really a human? That piqued my interest a little. “What are you saying? If you can send illusions all the way out here, then you’ve gotta be an incredible mage or something, right? Isn’t there anything else you could be doing?” “No. This is the only thing I can do.” “You serious?! That’s your job, just showing someone illusions and propping them up as the Hero? You know I’ve said I’m not gonna be the Hero, right? You’ve made one hell of a mistake with your choice. So does that mean humanity is doomed or what? Man, you’ve gotta take this job of yours more seriously. Seeing as you’re a human too and whatnot.” I was getting the impression that this Prophet was the real deal. They wouldn’t admit something like that to a skeptic. Either way, I didn’t have the strength to defeat the Demon Lord. I was past thirty years old, and I knew I wasn’t getting any stronger. Not to mention that I didn’t fit the Hero template in any sense of the word. “I am taking this seriously! I’ve done it so many times already! Over and over again!” the Prophet screamed. And with that, they disappeared. Anyway, it seemed I was finally allowed some shut-eye. But huh, I wondered what they’d meant when they’d said “over and over again.” The next day, me and my party hid inside one of the wagons departing from Gastan. We felt like cattle being shipped off to a slaughterhouse. Then again, we were headed straight for a pack of monsters lying in wait—same difference. “Did we have to hide?” the normally mute Evsei asked in annoyance. The wagon was a no-frills affair, meant for carrying grain. I could see why he didn’t want to stick around in here for too long. “Gotta take precautions. Even the monsters prefer the easy jobs. They might keep their distance if there are decent fighters like us out there on guard duty.” “You’re a stickler for the weirdest things, Leonard,” Sophia griped. “You really would do anything for the money.” She didn’t seem too keen on riding in the wagon, either. “Absolutely. You can’t do anything if you don’t have money. It’s what makes the world go around. Think about it, Sophia. You’d rather marry someone with money, right? Don’t tell me you’d pick based on personality, of all things. You’re too old to be a dreamer now.” “There’s no point in a man with money if he’s senseless with it,” Sophia joked. That hit me where it hurt. Nobody had nice things to say about my money-management skills. “I’d pick someone based on the quality of their character,” Nina chimed in, which was unusual for her. Normally, she kept her mouth shut for the most part. I guess she had a lot of opinions about marriage. “Well, how about that? Fits me to a T,” I said. “I reckon I’ve got the purest heart in the land.” Evsei flashed a wry grin. “What part of you is pure?” Sophia snorted. “If you’re pure, the rest of the world’s a tar pit.” “Fair enough…” Only Nina had a straight face. “I’m sure you’re pure of heart, Leonard. Unfortunately, I have no interest in marrying you.” As she spoke, Nina smiled like a sweet and innocent little girl—definitely not like the thirty-plus-year-old woman she actually was. I was taken so off guard that I couldn’t muster a reply. Just then, however, the wagon came to a sudden stop. Evsei clutched the spear sitting on the wagon floor. “Have the guests arrived?” “Let’s go,” I urged. I jumped off the cargo we’d been using to conceal ourselves and out onto the road. The wagon had stopped in the middle of a forest path. To be fair, most uninhabited places were forests and wastelands. There were about ten other cargo-filled wagons lined up nearby. This didn’t look like a monster attack. Past the wagon up ahead, I saw a fallen tree blocking the path. The Demon Lord army was probably up to its usual tricks. Being a common strat didn’t make it any less effective. The wagon drivers were dithering about in hesitation. “Aren’t those scary monsters gonna knock on our door?” I said. “They’re after the cargo. Now seems like a good time to make a getaway. Don’t ask us to protect you all.” I wasn’t being a dick just for the sake of it. It was way less efficient to protect people while you were fighting, which made it just that much harder to win. Our job was to slay the monsters, not protect the cargo or the drivers. The drivers took that as their cue to dismount their wagons and run off with their tails between their legs. “Sophia, search the surroundings,” I called out to the bespectacled mage when she finally stepped off the luggage carrier. “I’m already on it!” Sophia was already using a search spell, it seemed. Nice, that saved us time. “I’m sensing a reaction in the woods ahead of us. There’s about twenty or thirty of them. They’re going for a pincer attack,” she explained, quick to rattle off the results. “I’ll take the right. You go left, Evsei.” Some familiar faces showed up from the forest just as I broke out into a run. They were mainly goblins, but there were a few ogres here and there. I cut down one goblin that was making a beeline for a wagon. That instantly attracted all the other monsters’ attention, and they moved to surround me. That’s when Sophia fired a lightning spell. Pierced through with a bolt of lightning, the monsters howled and writhed in pain. I waltzed up to them and started systematically mowing them down. Evsei was doing the same thing over on the left. It didn’t take long before we’d dispatched most of these chumps, but obviously things didn’t end there. If this was all we were dealing with, then the soldiers and adventurers who’d previously guarded these wagons would have been enough. I heard a horse neigh behind me. The real mission was just getting started. “Heal us,” I ordered. Nina nodded silently and did her stuff on me and Evsei. We were barely wounded, but we were growing fatigued. The healing was going to make all the difference in the fight that was coming up next. When we circled over to the wagon farthest back in the line, there was a veritable horde of monsters bearing down upon us. The battle’s starting… Connecting her consciousness through the phantom, the Prophet witnessed Leonard and his party confront the monsters. Having guided dozens of Heroes in the past, Leonard did not strike her as exceptionally powerful. His sword skills could not compare with those of Leon the Sword Saint. That said, he and his party did possess solid teamwork. From what she had picked up from their typical conversations, they did not seem to be especially good friends, but they came together beautifully when it was time to fight. Still, their prospects of defeating the Demon Lord were slim. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. The Prophet was exhausted. In the beginning, when she had guided Leon, she had tried to connect her consciousness to her phantom as much as possible, searching for something she herself could do to help him. But she could barely achieve anything. The most she could do was tell the Heroes about future events in order to win their trust. Not even this was perfect, given the future was liable to change if events played out differently in the present. Every single time, she was struck keenly by her powerlessness—by the realization that she was nothing but a shadow. She had been spurned by the Heroes she was meant to guide on more than one occasion. “I trusted you…,” some of them would spit at her like a curse as they died. There was nothing she could say to defend herself. Because of her guidance, they had believed themselves the chosen ones who were guaranteed to defeat the Demon Lord. It was only understandable they would believe this when history recorded only the winners. The reality, however, was different. Only after many iterations of trial and error did the Prophet find someone who could defeat the Demon Lord. Not even the Prophet herself knew who the Hero would be. After rewinding time through a tenth World Revision, the amount of time the Prophet’s mind could stay connected to her phantom grew shorter. Ten loops might not have sounded like much, but given each use of World Revision covered ten years, it meant over a hundred years had passed. One had to admire the Prophet’s mental fortitude, if nothing else. But there was nobody to pat her on the back or praise her. The events would all be forgotten by everyone save for the Prophet. Redoing her life meant she physically accrued no fatigue, but her spirit had long since worn out. It was only natural that her window of time for guiding the Hero with her phantom was getting progressively shorter. Leonard was clashing swords with the demon. He almost always faced off against the demons one-on-one. Perhaps it was the party’s general strategy. “Let me guess what color your parents were! I’m betting your dad was red and your mom was blue! That’s how you came out purple, yeah? Or maybe your dad was blue and your mom was red. Do I have it right?” The demon, who could understand human language, went berserk. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. What’s there to be so mad about? Wait, don’t tell me your dad was yellow or something? Shucks, sorry your mom’s a cheating hag.” Leonard appeared to be having a good time with those…awfully cheap taunts. He was a crude, unsophisticated man, hardly befitting the image of the Hero. It was why the Prophet had chosen him—as an experiment. There were plenty of powerful and noble-hearted individuals, but after many long years of working with them, she could see even they had their foibles. So what about Leonard, the polar opposite? His personality could not be any worse, in her estimation. At the same time, she could glimpse a certain strength made possible by his abrasive qualities. He did anything to win, no matter the cost. He was even willing to use his friends like tools. Leonard was under no illusion that he was a good person, but that, too, was a source of his strength. He played dirty in sword fights. Instead of going straight for the neck, torso, or other weak spots against a strong opponent, he targeted their relatively undefended fingers and legs, chipping away at their strength slowly but steadily. In fact, the demon currently engaged in battle with Leonard had already lost several fingers, and the lower part of his leg was bleeding all over. It was, frankly, an unbearable sight. Leonard’s party members handled the other monsters, stemming their tide. Evsei, the spear warrior, possessed considerable skill. Spears distinguished themselves by allowing their wielders to attack their opponents from a distance, although they were less useful at close quarters. Evsei, however, was able to perform his thrusts so rapidly that it was as if there were multiple spears in view at the same time. This allowed him to wipe out the monsters before they could even get close. The technique was primarily suited for taking out weaker opponents, but it did allow Leonard to engage with the powerful demon unhindered. Sophia, the mage, chanted her spells efficiently. She keenly chose which spell would be most effective for the situation, using explosion spells for the groups that hewed closely together, flame spells to ignite the trees and grass around the monsters in the forest, and wind magic to curb the foes charging her way. She was also very careful to keep the scope of her spells restricted so as not to overuse her mana. Evidently, she was conscious about maintaining enough stamina for a prolonged fight. Nina, the priest, chanted very precise healing spells. She kept stock of her allies’ fatigue levels along with their wounds. The reason Leonard and Evsei were able to keep moving at full capacity was because of her support. She was also surprisingly capable of fighting with her rod, as made evident when she knocked out a goblin that came near her in one blow. This was perhaps why she took so boldly to the fore. Priests generally stayed in the back lines, but Nina made a point of staying close to Leonard and the others. They fought smoothly and reliably, not showing any cracks in their teamwork or formation. They were one of the better parties the Prophet had observed in action thus far. On the other hand, there was not much room for them to grow, given they were each around thirty years of age. In all likelihood, they did not have it in them to reach the Demon Lord. Realizing her growing disillusionment as she watched their desperate battle, the Prophet cursed herself bitterly. At length, the demon let out a mighty roar—as if he simply could not stand his approaching unceremonious end. Leonard pressed on with the attack, totally uncowed. For him, even his opponent’s fury was yet another opportunity to take advantage of. Leonard’s sword pierced the demon’s armor and ran straight through his chest—his heart. Demons were far more durable than humans, but they seldom faced warriors capable of such a merciless attack. For just a brief, fleeting moment, Leonard’s face contorted with pure, undistilled animosity. Out of all the Heroes the Prophet had ever guided, this man despised the demons most. What lay at the root of this hatred, she did not know. Leonard soon returned to his usual lackadaisical expression and went off to help his party members dispatch the remaining monsters. Then, when all the monsters were slain, a surprising face appeared before Leonard and his party. It was the Erdelian merchant they had rescued from the Demon Lord’s territory. “Right on schedule,” Leonard said to him. “You made quite a scene.” The merchant had an exasperated air about him as he surveyed the monster carcasses. “Here’s the cargo I want you to take to Arkand. Wagons are included. Should be enough, right? You got all the drivers you need?” Leonard asked. “Yes, they’re all here, just as you advised.” Droves of men came out of the merchant’s carriage and took their positions at the wagons from Gastan. “I got the word from Gastan’s village chief. Said it was okay to sell the cargo on the sly. He knows it’s going to the governor of Arkand. You just need to take it there and we’re all good. Job’s worth three hundred gold coins. I’m counting on you, pal.” Leonard patted the merchant on the shoulder. A look of ambivalence crossed the merchant’s face. “Leonard, just what are you—?” “Hey now, don’t say more than you need to. I’m the kind of guy who’ll do anything for cash. Let’s just leave it at that, okay? I mean, it’s true. Money makes the world go ’round. And that’s why you’re taking the cargo to Arkand, yeah?” Leonard wore a wry smile. The merchant’s round face broke out into a broad grin, too. “Yes, well, I am a merchant, after all. I’m willing to do anything worth my time. The cargo will get to Arkand safely, I can guarantee you that.” “Sweet.” The merchant’s group took charge of the wagons and headed on their way. “What was that about?” the Prophet asked. Leonard’s party took the carriage the merchant’s group had arrived in. They did not make it all the way to the nearest town before sundown, however, and so that night, they camped outdoors. When it was Leonard’s turn to keep watch, the Prophet appeared before him. Evsei and the others were sleeping soundly inside the carriage, too exhausted to be stirred from their slumber. “What was what about?” Leonard replied quietly as he peered at the campfire. It was possible he was trying not to wake his party members. “Why did that merchant arrive? And why did you send the cargo to Arkand?” “Who cares? It’s got nothing to do with that end-of-the-world stuff you’re always on about.” Leonard’s face, illuminated by the campfire, was peculiarly tranquil. “I care. Tell me.” “I’m not getting anything out of telling you…” Leonard tossed a nearby twig into the fire. With a crackling sound, it began to catch flame. “Oh, I know. How about we swap secrets?” “Secrets?” “You mentioned something about how this wasn’t your first time. What did you mean by that?” The Prophet considered the fate of the world. This loop was probably another failure, which meant there was no harm in telling Leonard. “I have been looping this world many times.” She made up her mind and told him the truth, which went to show just how curious she was about the man before her. “What does that mean? That went way over my head.” Predictably, Leonard chuckled quietly—not to make fun of the Prophet but to poke fun at his own ignorance. “When I told you I was powerless, that was a lie. I do have one power—the power to redo the world.” Leonard frowned. “And what does that mean?” “…Time resets whenever I die—to about six years ago. Then I look for a new Hero. Someone who can defeat the Demon Lord.” “Whenever you die? So, what, you’re living life on eternal repeat?” “My death will be permanent when it is of natural causes. Any other form of death, however, will trigger the loop. Unless the Demon Lord is defeated, I am guaranteed to die. Everything I do is meaningless. There is no way to stop the loop save for defeating the Demon Lord.” “So what I’m getting from this is that you have no idea who this Hero who defeats the Demon Lord is.” “I do not. I can only repeat time until the Demon Lord is slain. The same ten-year journey over and over again. I must have done it dozens of times now.” “Seriously? That sounds like a pretty big deal. Is my measly story even worth your secret?” Immediately after he said that, however, Leonard’s mouth twisted in realization. “…Ah, I get it. You don’t think your pick has the chops to defeat the Demon Lord. Basically, you realized we aren’t cut out for it.” “No, I chose a different individual to be the Hero. He is already deceased. It was the young man you buried not so long ago. Do you remember him?” Leonard put a hand on his chin and thought for a short while. “Oh, the guy who was killed by that demon, huh? My bad. We might’ve saved him if we came quicker…” “No, he would never have defeated the Demon Lord regardless. He did indeed meet his end quickly, however. It is too soon for the world to reset. And so I…” “I see, so you decided to give me a whirl since you had the time up your sleeve. Now it all makes sense. That explains why you tried to pick me of all people to be the Hero.” Leonard shrugged. “You and your party are famous for being skilled adventurers. I was curious about your strength. Leonard, your powers are worthy of your reputation. However, the Demon Lord’s power is superlative. Leon the Sword Saint and Maria the Holy Maiden died without even reaching him. Solon the Great Sage fought the Demon Lord and perished in the depths of despair. Your powers do not reach theirs, and you are no longer young. I do not expect you will grow any stronger… My apologies.” “Hey, I’m not mad.” Leonard picked up another twig by his feet and tossed it into the fire. “I’ve been saying it to you this whole time. I’m not the Hero. Look, I know an actual Hero.” “Who?” The Prophet’s tone hardened. She was always on the lookout for potential new Heroes, even if it felt like clutching at straws. “A long time ago, I was in a party with a warrior named Luke. He died fifteen years ago. You can only go back six years, right? Fifteen’s too much for you?” “I cannot go back to a time when I did not bear the Prophet’s mantle. The loop begins after I became the Prophet.” She paused. “By fifteen years ago, are you referring to the battle at Malika?” “Yeah. That’s where Luke—my Hero—bit the dust.” Leonard flung a slightly larger twig into the fire with considerable force. It was his way of showing his disappointment in the Prophet’s inability to travel fifteen years into the past. “The thing is, I never fought in that battle.” “What did you say?” “I was pathetic. When I saw the Demon Lord’s army in front of me, I chickened out and ran.” “But you said you were a survivor…” “Hey, that part’s true, isn’t it? I did technically go to the battlefield. I just went home without doing any of the fighting. I never told any lies.” Leonard shrugged again. “But my party members fought. And they survived. I’m a phony, but they’re genuine. That’s why I asked them to join me. I begged them. Although they might’ve seen it as me threatening them.” “You are strong enough to be a survivor.” There was sympathy in the Prophet’s tone. “Thanks. But here’s the thing. Strength isn’t about how good you are with a sword. It’s about how you live, y’know? The guy I saw as the Hero wasn’t just about brawn—he lived his life in style, too. I became an adventurer because I wanted to be a swell fella like him, but then I ran away when the going got tough. Because I was a scaredy-cat. Oh, and I was full of excuses, too. I was the lamest guy on the planet.” As he spoke, Leonard flung another twig into the fire with all his strength. “Let me just say that I don’t think what I did was wrong. It makes sense to turn tail when you’re scared. It’s only human. You wanna stay alive, have a drink, eat some good grub…et cetera. You can buy pretty much anything with money, and that includes lives. And that’s why money is the closest thing we’ve got to justice in this world. Am I wrong?” “…” The Prophet wanted to refute that, but she could not find the words. After over a hundred years, she had lost sight of what was “just” to humans. The Hero was beautiful in how he put his life on the line for humanity’s sake. It was beautiful because it was so rare, because it fell well outside the bounds of expectation. The Prophet understood this. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you to say nothing back.” Leonard smiled ruefully. “You see, I’m living proof of what I said. After I ran away to save my own skin, there weren’t many adventurers left who could fight. People like me were in hot demand, so I made a killing out of it. Running away paid off big time. I sure lived it up—I ate my fair share of delicious grub and drank enough booze to swim in. Kept telling myself I was living the dream. But you soon get bored of most things you can buy with money. Doesn’t matter how great the food or drink was, you can barely remember it the next day. And then the memory’s gone before you even know it. The physical things, too—you take them for granted before long. “So yeah, somewhere along the line, happiness slipped away from me. It wasn’t worth dirt at the end of the day. What did stick with me were the memories. Memories of how I abandoned Luke and ran away.” Leonard lifted his gaze from the fire and toward the sky. “I let Luke die. I killed the Hero.” “That’s not—” “I know. It would have happened regardless of whether I was there. But the regret’s still smoldering in my belly, no matter how much time it’s been. I can’t move forward unless I do something about it. Not that I’m gonna be the Hero, of course.” Leonard turned his gaze to the Prophet. “But I digress. You wanted to know about what was up with that merchant, right? You see, I gave him three hundred out of my four-hundred-coin reward to do a job for me. A bit of outsourcing. He would deliver the grain to Arkand. And not just that, he would take it directly from Gastan. Make it so the monsters took it.” “Why would you transport grain to Arkand?” “That’s an easy one. Instead of the monetary reward, I asked one tiny little favor from Arkand’s governor: Accept the refugees.” “Refugees?” The Prophet recalled the refugees she had seen in Arkand. At the time, Leonard had treated them scornfully, so she was puzzled by his current behavior. “Those guys lost their hometowns from the war. They live in poverty with nowhere to go. Makes their problem pretty simple to solve—just give them money. They’re not worth much in that sense. Rough times we live in, huh, when even those cheap lives go unsaved. But, well, helping those people out was my promise to Nina.” The Prophet was similarly concerned for the refugees. When World Revision first activated, she’d sworn she would save them one day. She had believed things would work out as long as the Demon Lord was defeated. However, she had turned her eyes away from them entirely in the meantime, sparing their plight no further thought. “Thing is, Arkand doesn’t have enough resources to take in refugees left, right, and center. Food prices have inflated thanks to the war. The governor asked us to supply food in exchange for accepting the refugees. Fair enough. Even with all the money in the world, you can’t get anything done if you don’t have things. And right now, as it happens, the wagons from Gastan are being targeted by the monsters. So we needed to secure the route for delivering grain, plus the grain itself. Since the sales are overseen by officials, we had to go through illegal channels, which meant we needed a deliveryman with tight lips. That’s solved by finding a trustworthy merchant and paying them for their discretion. I knew I could count on that guy, seeing as he was nice enough to bring a child out of a war zone.” “Did you go to Gastan specifically to help the refugees? Was that why you asked for such a high price?” “Nah. Far from it.” Leonard snorted. “I’m just spending money how I like. Money’s a great thing. A literal lifesaver. It can save the lives those pompous kings and nobles won’t even touch. The way I see it, it’s a gift from God. As long as I’ve got cash, even some nobody like me can save lives. Even better, people’s lives keep going. They don’t just disappear tomorrow or the day after that. I can feel pretty good about myself if I think, ‘They’re alive now ’cause of me.’ Makes the booze taste better. It’s like those appetizers they serve with drinks. I mean, I’m not using all the payouts on other folks. The one hundred coins I didn’t hand to the merchant goes to us. That’s plenty to play around with. We’re just using the surplus, you could say.” One hundred gold coins was enough to fund a partying lifestyle for several years. Leonard was not lying in that respect. “Besides, we had other business in Gastan. Procuring the food supplies was something to do on the way. We have our own goal.” “And that goal is…?” “You’ll see soon enough. Don’t have to wait long.” Leonard kept his mouth shut after that. A short while later, he swapped guard duty with Evsei and slumbered inside the wagon.