Chapter 138
In the month since the world had stopped trying to kill me, I'd mastered the ancient and noble art of doing absolutely nothing.
My cottage was small, quiet, and perfect. There was a garden I had no intention of planting anything in, a roof that never leaked, and a hammock that had already molded itself to my body's exact proportions.
Most of my days were spent in that hammock, swinging gently beneath the shade of a non-magical tree, watching clouds drift. Occasionally, I would muse over life's big questions, like should I get up and make tea or should I take another nap.
No quests. No curses. No portals to screaming hell dimensions. Just me, the breeze, and the occasional bee who mistook me for a flower.
