Raylas clutched the journal as he read on. The details for each patron were disgustingly detailed, yet as he read he felt the words were different at times. The specifics into the numerous patrons who hired them had a strange rough feel to them which slowly gave him a headache, but the regular entries felt soothing and smooth. There was no challenge to read them.

The details of the people who hired them for the Orc were specifically disgusting. Not only did the words hurt his head, but the details inside made him want to vomit.

Necromancers. They themselves were not necromancers, but they were allied with them and used the disgusting black magic to make profits. Mages were rare, yes, but necromancers made bandits look civilized. At least with a bandit you could understand why they became scum, be it for greed or just survival. A fallen human, if the term fits.

But a necromancer did worse. Not only did they kill for fun, they tormented a person’s soul in search of how to create more undead. Trying to figure out the purpose of their taint and harness its power. It was a vile profession filled with only those who were the most evil of the evil.

Yet the Captain helped them? Raylas was now even more glad he destroyed the Orc’s body, but at the same time an anger started to boil in his heart.

Sixty silvers. That is how much he sold his companion’s bodies. Raylas wasn’t with them long to become close, but a companion was a companion. You looked out for each other. Selling them to be tortured for eternity by the lowest of the lowest scum was… heretical.

Raylas wasn’t even religious, yet that term fit.

He snapped the journal shut after a few other jobs. They were not nearly as bad but some of them left a foul taste in his mouth. A merchant with ties into the slave trade had a shipment stolen, so they were sent out to kill the thieves. A group of bandits were harassing merchants during travel, but the bandits were actually old farmers who had their land taken by the local noble to give to some up-and-coming businesses which would gain more revenue. A young girl was kidnapped so they had to track down the kidnappers and slay them to return the daughter.

The final one didn’t sound terrible, but during an investigation it was brought to the Captain’s attention that the girl wasn’t kidnapped but eloped with the boy to avoid an arranged marriage.

Then came the worst entry.

‘Winter’s Embrace, day 3 in the 326th Year of the Kasan Dynasty,

‘Sigmund’s suggestion to keep Raylas was one of the best he has proposed. The man is dense as a brick but his mind is fascinating. His skills at observation and natural talents at sniffing out his prey are uncanny. If I had to describe one way to categorize him it would be as a hound. Loyal to a fault yet he has the tracking ability almost rival Goodwill.

‘I have decided to make him an officer for the company, but he is lacking right now. He needs more education. His dim ways are a fault of his making him easily swindled, but if he could learn to read his skills in observations and puzzles would benefit us greatly when making contracts.

‘Sadly he refused to start learning literacy when I asked earlier today. He claims it is not his duty to know. I have asked a few select members to hint to merchants at his gullibility. If he gets consistently ripped off then it should motivate him to learn. I see good things for him in the future, so I pray to the gods who forsook us that he comes around.’

Raylas snapped the book shut and tossed it into the corner with the rest of the cursed rubble. He closed his eyes and massaged his throbbing head, wishing that the ability to read was gone. Things would be better if he never learned all of that. He could still remain happy.

The knowledge didn’t stop it from happening, but hearing how he was just a tool to be used by the Captain made him feel ill. A hound. The Captain just considered him just a trained dog.

The door flew open and a girl with sparkling blue hair strode in.

“How do I look, Master!” she laughed.

Raylas looked up. The girl was wearing a lovely dress. It was a cheery shade of green and had a number of seams sewed in to fit the contour of her body. There even was a bit of lace around the collar to emphasize her face. Even her hair had a new piece of cloth holding it up with what appeared to be beads sewn in around the ends.

Overall it was a major improvement to the scraps she was wearing before. Raylas was also finally able to guess her age since his mind wasn’t distracted by specific parts. Somewhere between a teenager and early twenties? For her to be such a skilled mage by this age meant that she would become extremely formidable once her mana-touched mind is cured. Maybe he could ally with her when that happened, if she allowed it?

It was something new to shoot for.

“Master?” she asked.

“Isn’t the dear lovely, Mister Raylas,” Darling inquired as she came forward and set her arms around Sapphire’s shoulders.

“She is very pretty,” Raylas said. He cringed at the deadness of his voice.

Sapphire visibly deflated and Raylas groaned. He stood up and placed his hand on her head.

“I’m not good with words, but the dress really compliments you. You look like the daughter of a wealthy merchant.”

She looked back up and gave him a wide smile. Raylas stared. Her eyes shimmered like her hair, but they were not blue like he originally thought. They were a shade of purple which he had never seen before.

“You’re pretty enough to steal his breath away,” Darling whispered to Sapphire. “I told you this outfit was perfect.”

Sapphire squeed and wrapped her arms around Darling muttering words of thanks. Raylas pulled his hand back to give the two space and sat back down on his bed. Soon the two released each other and Darling wished them both sometime to relax. She also notified that Dave would discuss the cost with Raylas at dinner.

Raylas nodded, not really hearing. The girl needed help. He might not be a mercenary anymore, but the job of a mercenary is to do the work a Guard cannot. That means removing dangers to the people such as killing beasts and bandits, or going into dangerous territories to capture targets of danger…

But what if those bandits were victims more than just scum who chose greed over life? And the targets were trying to escape from something worse?

How could he do the proper job of being a mercenary if his job is to become something like a bandit? An assassin to kill for just money, no matter who the target was.

“What is wrong, Master?” the girl asked, kneeling next to him.

“Remove my ability to read,” Raylas moaned.

“I cannot return gifts.”

“Then remove the memories I have gained.”

Sapphire glanced at the pile of items in the corner. They widened at the sight of the pouch alongside the chain, but it lingered on the journal.

“Ignorance might be bliss, but it doesn’t change facts. I refuse your request, Master.” She gave a bow to him, then went over and retrieved both the bag and the book.

“If you desire to not see the book, you can store it here.”

Raylas laughed bitterly, then took the bag.

“Indeed,” he said. “Nobody would find this in a dungeon. What better place to throw refuse and pain.”

He took the bag and book. The girl tried to say something but he ignored her and spoke the word ‘Otote’. The girl’s eyes widened further as the strings loosened and the top of the bag opened. The world shifted again and Raylas found himself standing by the spiral staircase, the journal in hand.

“This brings back memories,” Sapphire sighed as her misty form solidified next to him.

“You’ve been in this dungeon before?” he asked. Her being able to follow him made sense. She could teleport anywhere, so why not into a dungeon?

“It is no dungeon, Master,” she laughed, a sadness in her voice.

She moved over to the staircase, her arm held out as a cage lowered and lit up. She looked at the giant flag for a few moments before spinning around.

“I wish to welcome you to your inheritance, heir of Aasim,” she announced. “Welcome to the family library and treasury. May you and your descendants benefit from and grow the collection.”

“Descendants?”

“Just as the first of the Aasim created this place for his wife, Otote Aasim, you shall give it to your children to learn and grow, generation to generation.”

Raylas stood with his mouth wide open “This place is a dungeon,” he gaped. “A place built to kill all those who entered and protect the treasures it hoarded.”

“Indeed it can be seen that way for those who are not Aasim,” Sapphire agreed.

“I am not an Aasim,” Raylas cried out. “I am just Raylas of Eilire, a merc– wandering warrior. I am a nobody who came from nothing.”

“Yet you found my ring and became my master,” the girl pointed out. “You also managed to be blessed like the Leenor, Patriarch and founder of the Aasim clan. You bear the family traits of white hair and blue eyes, and wield the weapon forged by the divine in the Time of Chaos.”

“The what of what?”

“The Time of Chaos,” she said. “Before the War of Heavens and Age of Heros, when the Gods roamed the world like men. When the Elves first opened their eyes and when the dwarves built cities of dirt and hay, gazing at the sky in wonder.”

Raylas sighed and rubbed his head again. This was going nowhere. A weapon before the cataclysm was bad enough, but this sounded older. Something more grand, and that meant more problems and most likely a stronger curse. He might need to find the Pope himself to remove this.

“It doesn’t matter what the damn thing is,” he cursed and spat on the floor. “We are here to get rid of this book, and that is what we’re going to do.”

He strode over to the stairs and peered down. His eyes widened as he noticed he was not in a room, but at the tip of a dome. The staircase went down into a gigantic chamber, hundreds of feet outward in all directions. Bridges spanned the multiple floors which layered the chamber, each one containing a shelf of a kind.

From the distance he couldn’t tell exactly what was on them but he saw a mixture of bones hanging like trophies. Busts and statues littered the columns and buttresses, all leading down into what appeared to be a sea of sparkling gold which flooded the lowest floor.

But the thing which was lying directly at the bottom of the spiral staircase, at the top of the pile of gold, was the bones of a beast of ungodly size. The skull of the thing alone was larger than the Fort, and the body easily could have circled Lumber’s town.

“Impressive, isn’t it,” Sapphire giggled as she started skipping down the stairs.

“Wha-” was the only thing Raylas could say.

Sapphire paused and gave him a curious look.

“Something wrong, Master?”

Raylas gaped and was forced to take a breath. His anger had disappeared as he saw the wealth, the books, and the bones. Oh gods, those bones.

“Dra-dragon,” he breathed.

“Indeed!” the girl cheered. “You should have seen the party when they slayed the dread wyrm of the Starry Mountains. We all were drunk for a week before the King declared it was time to return life to normal. Master rewarded with the title Dragon Slayer.”

‘Dragon Slayer’? Raylas couldn’t even gasp the word, the image in his mind was too great. Moments passed before he gasped, realizing he forgot to breathe.

“Previous master?”

She turned to him. “My former master and your predecessor, Laurania Moonwood Aasim. Daughter of the Duke Moonwood, Protector of the Elven Royal Family, Guardian of the Ancestral Grove, Child of the Goddess, Bearer of Angelic Blood, Dragon Slayer, Hero of the Realms, and Titan Killer.”

Raylas froze, his mind stopped working. He turned and stiffly shuffled back the way he came to the door and silently left the horrors beyond imagining.