Chapter 52: Being A Hero Is Expensive
It was a small and simple room. Rough stone walls, a wooden ceiling with old beams, and the smell of dirt and smoke hung in the air.
Daniel sat on a wooden chair, one leg crossed over the other, his elbow resting on the armrest.
In front of him stood a thin old man with a long white beard. Beside him, an elderly woman with a kind but tired face nervously clasped her hands together.
"Let me introduce myself. I’m Garol, the elder of this village. And this is my wife, Mira," the old man said with a cough.
"We’re truly grateful to you, Hero. If it weren’t for you and your companions, today... today they’d be collecting our corpses," Mira said with her head bowed.
"It’s fine. But I’m curious... does this kind of thing happen often? Attacks by red orcs?" Daniel gave a faint smile.
When he asked about the village chief, the old man and woman had come out and introduced themselves.
"No, not at all. These orcs live far from here. It’s never happened that they came this far," Garol said, frowning.
Daniel nodded in understanding.
"But we don’t like being in anyone’s debt. How can we repay your kindness, Hero?" Mira asked with concern.
Garol leaned down and placed a leather pouch on the table in front of Daniel. The sound of gold coins filled the small room.
Daniel gave the pouch a quick glance. He wasn’t the type to pretend. Being a hero had its costs, right? And more importantly, his pockets were empty.
"Thanks." He picked up the pouch without hesitation and replied with the same neutral smile.
Mira thanked him again, her tired eyes glimmering. It wasn’t a small amount for them, but not big enough to anger the hero either — thankfully.
"By the way... where exactly is this village?" Daniel shifted slightly and asked.
"Strange that a hero doesn’t know where are we." Garol narrowed his eyes and raised a brow.
"Well, I’m not from around here, and I got lost on the way," Daniel shrugged without blinking.
He could have just said he was an otherworldly climber — that’s what foreigners were called in the Celestial Domain according to the online community. But he doubted this old couple would understand what that meant.
"I see. We’re in the western region of the Arontir continent, near the western mountain range, close to the Elthanor Empire," Garol explained calmly.
Daniel nodded. Based on what he knew, the Celestial Domain was divided into four continents.
First, Arontir — full of lush lands and human empires. Second, Zilsag — a land of mountains and frozen lands, mostly home to dwarves and northern tribes.
Third, Veldrikas — continent of endless forests and mysterious lakes, birthplace of elves, dragons, and other divine races.
And fourth... Desmorag — land of shadows and cursed deserts, where demonic races dwelled.
This village was at the western border of Arontir, far from the central plains where the big guilds of his world were based.
At that moment, the wooden door opened.
"Sir, we’re done with the orcs. Some tried to escape, but except for two... the rest are dead," Pride walked in with firm steps and bowed before Daniel.
Daniel simply nodded and stood up from the chair.
Outside the house, the rest of the villagers began thanking him the moment they saw him. Prayers and words of gratitude filled the air.
But Daniel didn’t respond much. He simply nodded and walked toward the place where two orcs were kneeling, chained to the ground.
"Kill us, human. We won’t talk. We’re not afraid of death," the orcs growled with rage.
"Alright." Daniel stared at them emotionlessly.
He raised his sword and without delay, drove the blade into one of the orc’s eyes.
A short scream, then silence.
Dark blood spilled onto the ground. The second orc gritted his teeth without a word.
Daniel pulled out his sword. His red eyes, emotionless and calm, stared blankly at the creature like a soulless mirror.
[You have received 97 Exp ]
The cold, metallic voice of the system echoed in Daniel’s mind. He blinked once and exhaled slowly.
At his feet, the second orc, still kneeling, had lost all color in his face. His wounded hands trembled, and his eyes screamed with primal fear.
When Daniel raised his blood-stained sword again and held the blade right in front of the orc’s eye, the chains didn’t seem so strong anymore.
"Wait! Wait! I’ll tell you everything! Just don’t kill me!" the orc gasped.
"Why did you attack this village?"
The orc, voice rough and dry, growled out:
"It was them! These humans! They blocked the river. Our tribe was dying of thirst. Our kids, our elders... without water, we would’ve died. We had no choice! We were forced to come!"
Daniel glanced briefly at Garol.
"I swear to the old gods, we never did such a thing! We’re not that kind of people! The river is our life too!" the old village chief quickly raised his hands and said.
Daniel slowly rubbed his forehead between his thumb and finger. He knew these kinds of lies and excuses well. But he could feel both sides were telling the truth.
And really... what did any of this have to do with him? Maybe it was better to just kill the orc and move on to the bigger cities?
Just then, rushed footsteps broke the tension.
"Chief! Chief! sister Eva is gone!" a little boy, face red from running, arrived breathless and shouted in panic.
"What? Wasn’t she with you?" Garol looked confused.
"We hid just where you told us to... but then a few knights came. They knocked us out. Took my sister!" the boy shook his head furiously.
Daniel ignored them and was about to finish off the orc.
"Please, sir, we beg you, help us one more time!" Garol and Mira dropped to their knees.
The other villagers looked at each other, then followed suit and pleaded as well.
"Hm?" Daniel looked at them, but before he could say anything, a notification appeared before his eyes.
[Your Reputation has increased by 18 points.]
Oh? Daniel stared at the notification in surprise. He hadn’t heard about this before — Reputation? What was it even useful for?
"What do you want?" he decided to focus on the more important issue for now.
"A girl, around seventeen or eighteen. We found her about five years ago. She was half-dead at the border, nameless and wounded. We raised her since then," Garol hesitated for a moment, then said with a strange sorrow in his voice.
"She’s like our own daughter, Hero. Please help us find her. In return, we’ll give you anything we can."
Daniel sighed. He respected the love between parents and their children. It reminded him of his own mother.
"Do you have anything of hers? Clothes, belongings, anything with her scent?"
Mira, the old woman, quickly ran into the house and returned moments later with a worn, ragged shawl.
Daniel took the shawl. He stared at it, then handed it to Vorak, who had silently appeared beside him.
"Find the owner of this shawl."
With a growl-like response, Vorak sniffed it and without any hesitation dashed into the forest.
"Alright... that’s taken care of." Daniel turned back to the chained orc.
The orc opened his mouth to speak, but Daniel didn’t give him the chance.
His sword moved in a cold, precise arc, piercing the creature’s throat.
[You have received 90 Exp.]
Daniel pulled the blade out smoothly. Thick, dark blood spilled onto the dirt.
He stood still for a moment, staring at the orc. Shame — he wanted to add them to his Fallen, but unfortunately, it wasn’t possible.
Back in the Colosseum Dungeon, he also wanted to turn the Gray and Silver Knights into Fallen, but the system told him his current limit was ten, and until he reached Rank C, he couldn’t create new ones.