Arthur's POV
I sat at the adventurer guild tavern with Alice, Adam, Jenny, and Alex, sharing breakfast as news of what I'd done yesterday spread like wildfire — a hero clad in silvery armor, cutting down the orc horde.
Since I'd returned to my usual black armor, no one realized they were talking about me. The feeling left me conflicted. On one hand, I wanted recognition as a hero. On the other, I hadn't given anyone my name. No one would connect him to me. That meant I still had my privacy.
And truthfully, that mattered more than I expected. Getting used to having a sense of self was hard enough. Losing my privacy on top of that? A nightmare.
Alice looked at me thoughtfully.
"It's been a while since people whispered you might be a hero," she said. "But without confirmation, it stayed just a rumor. Now… whoever that man in silver was, they're certain he's real."
I met her gaze.
"Does it matter if they think he's a hero? Do you really think I care about such things?"
She exhaled softly.
"I suppose you don't. You never seemed to care if people mistook you for one before. I just… wanted your opinion."
Jenny set down her cup with a small smile.
"For whatever reason, I have a feeling it was you. I know the armors don't match, but my gut tells me I'm right. I just don't have proof."
I nearly choked on my turkey leg at that. Jenny's instincts were sharper than I thought.
"Does it matter if it was me or not?" I asked carefully.
Jenny smirked, clearly enjoying herself.
"At least you didn't deny it. That says enough."
I sighed.
"Sometimes denying something only makes people more suspicious. It's easier to let them believe what they want. People always will."
Adam leaned forward, nodding.
"Yeah, I've had the same problem. Deny something, and suddenly everyone's convinced you're guilty. I wish we had a spell that could prove truth or lies."
I shook my head.
"It's not that simple. There are too many variables. What if someone genuinely doesn't remember doing something? Or convinces themselves it was right? Think of the man who sacrificed villagers to create the vampire king. In his mind, he was righteous. A truth spell wouldn't have seen him as a liar."
Adam frowned at that, falling silent. Alex, meanwhile, just kept eating his breakfast, clearly uninterested in our debate.
Turning back to Alice, I asked,
"Any new missions you're interested in?"
She nodded.
"Mostly investigations. Missing villagers — possibly kidnapped by goblins or bandits. Since that new mercenary group started a few months ago, they've been taking all the escort missions. We don't have to worry about those anymore."
I remembered Evelyn's hand in that mercenary group's rise. A clever idea — letting new adventurers gain safe experience through escort jobs while veterans avoided the mess.
After some discussion, we settled on the missing-persons quest. It was troubling how many such requests still appeared, even after we stopped the ritual that would've birthed a new vampire king.
As Alice and Jenny headed to the guild office to finalize the paperwork, I reached out to Sarah in my mind.
"Sarah, I need you to scout a village north of here. Look for any useful clues."
At first, silence. Then her monotone reply:
"On my way."
Her flat voice unsettled me. Even Evelyn — our creator — had more emotion when she spoke.
And speaking of Evelyn… she was growing, changing. She might not see it yet, but as the daughter of a sixth-stage mage, her status was near that of a princess. Nobles already had their eyes on her — for themselves or their sons. It was only a matter of time before even a prince tried to approach her.
But Evelyn didn't care for money or connections. From the memories she'd given me, her past life as a hero had left her socially awkward. She excelled in battle, not in debates or politics.
Still, sooner or later, she would be forced into that world. And I wondered — how would she handle it?