Malissa let out a heavy sigh. She shook her head and raised her shoulders.

“What if you’re on the wrong path, though?”

Arek looked at her, cocking his head to the side and raising an eyebrow.

“Are you?”

“No. I don’t think so,” Malissa said, shaking her head. “But I’m not sure.”

“You won’t be sure until long after you needed to be,” Arek said. “Just do your best.”

They sat silently for several minutes, watching the sun as it slowly rose above the horizon.

Belmont was the first to emerge from his tent. He spotted Malissa and Arek and walked over to sit beside them. The man seemed to mull something over for a few minutes before he finally looked up at Arek.

“I know who you are,” Belmont finally said.

Arek’s blood ran cold. It wasn’t that he was surprised. It was only a matter of time until someone figured it out, and telling them about Vell had been a dead giveaway, especially for someone as paranoid as Belmont.

“What do you mean?” Malissa asked. “He already told us that his name was originally Vaugh-Arek.”

“Not that name,” Belmont said. Arek noticed that his sword wasn’t at his side like it normally was. “Arek’s adventuring name. I’d been trying to figure it out for a while. Vell’s name was the last piece I needed.”

“You know Vell?” Malissa asked, confused. “How?”

“I know of him,” Belmont corrected. “It’s the name of a rather famous B ranking adventurer. His most popular name is the King of Dolls. He’s one of the kingdom’s enforcers, and a ruthless one at that.”

Malissa drew in a sharp breath.

“That’s horrible. I’m sorry, Arek. I don’t know how I didn’t make the connection. I don’t know as much about other adventurers as Belmont does, but even I’ve heard the stories about him,” Malissa said, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. “It must have been horrible traveling with him. I can see why you didn’t want to be an adventurer anymore. Hells, and I’ve been trying to get you to convince me to stay an adventurer…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Arek said, ignoring the dense pit forming in his stomach. “I could have left long before I did. Vell never forced me to stay with the group.”

“You were still a victim,” Malissa said, shaking her head.

“No,” Belmont said. “He wasn’t.”

“Belmont!” Malissa snapped. “How could you?”

“He’s right,” Arek said quietly.

Malissa looked from Arek to Belmont. Her eyes narrowed and she pounded her hand against the dirt.

“What’s going on?” She asked. “I feel like the two of you are dancing around me. Out with it, already!”

“Arek wasn’t some nameless member of Vell’s party,” Belmont said. “Think about it. He had trouble dealing with temptation and flew into a blood rage during fights. Despite that, he could still control his target perfectly. Does that not ring a bell?”

Malissa’s brow furrowed. Then the blood drained from her face. Arek winced. He could pinpoint the exact moment when understanding flickered across her features.

“That’s not possible,” Malissa said, not believing her own words. “Arek is an orc.”

“There are ways to change your appearance,” Belmont replied. “Arek, please correct me if I’m wrong. I believe you are Warchief, the C rank adventurer who singlehandedly culled the uprising against the Adventurer’s Guild around eleven years ago.”

Arek drew a deep breath. In a way, it almost felt good to have it out in the air again. The secrets had been wearing down on his soul for so long now that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be unburdened by lies.

“I am,” Arek said. “I apologize for deceiving you.”

“But… Warchief was a murderer!” Malissa exclaimed in disbelief. “He slaughtered entire camps, sparing nobody! Warchief was a soulless killing machine, not a food loving orc!”

Arek reached inside his bag. His hand closed around the red patch. It was waiting for him, just as it had been ever since Vell had returned it to him. The orc rose to his feet and pressed it to his skin. His body shimmered and started to morph.

Unlike the Magus’s mask, Arek’s body physically changed. His body grew leaner and his fangs receded. Green was replaced by ash grey, and a myriad of crisscrossing scars carved themselves across his body. Blood red war paint formed intricate designs of screaming demons and beasts all across his face and chest.

“I’m afraid I am both,” Arek said, his words heavy. Even his voice had shifted. The orc’s words had become gruff scratchy, without a hint of the jovial sarcasm that permeated Arek’s normal tone.

Belmont watched him silently, his analytical eyes absorbing Arek’s reaction carefully.

“I don’t understand…” Malissa muttered.

“You don’t have to,” Belmont replied.

Arek winced, but he’d seen that coming. Crimes written in blood could not be washed away by time. He knew that better than anyone. It was somewhat ironic that Arek had been chased from towns for years because he was an orc, and now that he’d retaken his human form, all he desired was to return to what he’d once been.

“I recognize that weapon your magic made,” Belmont said. “You killed hundreds of innocents with it. You wanted to be discovered, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Arek agreed. “I knew our adventure would end the moment the truth came out, but I enjoyed it too much to reveal it myself.”

“But he was being used by Vell, right?” Malissa asked desperately. “Right, Arek?”

“In the beginning, yes,” Arek replied. “But not after that. He may have crafted me, but I held the blade. I chose to work with him. My hands are thoroughly stained red with the blood of better people.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Belmont said, nodding slowly. “This will make things much easier.”

He ignored the horrified look on Malissa’s face as he stood and strode up to Arek. The orc did nothing to stop him.