As he composed himself, looking at the giant, steaming corpse of the ogre left in the grass, the babbling behind stole his attention.
The frantic merchant ran up, shouting as he nearly stumbled over, "—You defeated that foul savage?! Oh, thank goodness—what is your name, o' powerful warrior?!"
"Leon Schoeller," he introduced, sheathing his sword with a quiet exhale.
In the air, embers drifted like orange pollen, glistening in the torn fields.
The plump merchant froze as if having seen a ghost while the scattered embers cascaded on his fluffy mustache, "Y-y-you…you're Lord Schoeller?! Forgive my ignorance, my lord!"
While the shaken man was on his hands and knees, the young man found himself having to back up before his boots were kissed.
"Err, it's fine, dude," Leon assured with a raised eyebrow, not entirely sure how to handle the situation.
He looked over at the remains of the merchant's carriage left on the road. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see the clear gash left through the field that perfectly split the vehicle.
"Hold on, I think I've got a spell for this," Leon remarked, pointing towards the shattered carriage.
"Ah—?" The merchant looked up from the grass.
It was simple enough to invoke the image of a "perfect condition carriage" in his hand, only needing to snap his fingers to manifest the magecraft:
"Reassemble!"
Making his will manifest, the shattered bits and pieces of wood and fabric reconvened. As if time was rewound for the carriage alone, each part was set back into its proper place, once more talking its necessary form.
"There," Leon said, brushing his hands off.
The merchant immediately broke into tears, clapping excitedly, "Thank you, oh thank you! I must repay this debt, Lord Schoeller!"
"You don't—" Leon tried to protest.
"Please! On my name as Frederick Vandelstaut IV, I must repay this debt I've incurred!" The brown-haired merchant in the green tunic pleaded.
Leon looked towards the carriage, "Well, in that case…"
He found himself riding within the comfort of the merchant's precious vehicle, lounging on the cushioned seat propped against the wall. Of course, there were some bumps in the road that had seen battle, but he still found comfort.
"Ah, it feels nice to relax after fighting a giant monster," Leon said, exhaling with satisfaction.
In front, guiding the horses with leads, Frederick laughed heartily, "You're a real hero, Lord Schoeller! You know, I didn't think you'd agree for me to become your go-to supplier…I'm thankful!"
While listening to the merchant's gleeful words, Leon sat up, finding a bright-green apple in one of the crates. Among fruit, there was plenty of seasonings stored; a perfect fit for what he sought.
'Frederick trades culinary goods. If I'm going to be enjoying this life, gotta keep my dishes spiced up,' he thought, taking a bite of the juicy apple.
It was a much needed cool off as the merchant transported him back within the bounds of Newfard. Of course, the small town was in an uproar—
"One-Eye is going to attack!" A man shouted, running through the streets.
"He's coming…! One-Eye is going to eat us!" A woman cried.
The carriage was brought to a stop as Leon stood himself up, hopping out of the side. As his feet landed on the cobblestone, the sight of townsfolk pacing around in a panic confused him.
Running over with exhausted breaths, the Mayor called out, "There you are—! Lord Schoeller…! It's One-Eye, it's—"
Leon interrupted him, "Dead."
"What?" The Mayor stopped.
"One-Eye," he casually admitted, bouncing the apple in his hand. "He's dead."
All at once, the commotion in the town seemed to end as his words were heard.
'Oh, right—let me try this new skill,' he thought, snapping his fingers.
["Servant Recall"]
With only a verdant hum of light, he found both of his servants arriving at his side within an instant. Both Salvatore and Ruby seemed surprised, with the maid a bit more excited about the sudden warp.
"Woah! That felt funny," Ruby laughed.
Salvatore adjusted himself, "I'm glad to see you came out victorious, Master."
"Yeah, thanks for holding it down here," Leon said, looking around, finding the eyes of the townspeople on him:
To his shock, the mayor was bowing his head in front of him with a complete sense of gratitude.
"Thank you, Lord Schoeller! You have saved this city…and avenged my son!" The old man shouted thankfully with tears running freely.
Leon understood immediately, nodding his head as he put his hand on the mayor's shoulder, "Richard, right? He was your son?"
"Yes, he was," the old man nodded, sniffling. "He was the light of this city—of my life. He can finally rest now—now that One-Eye is no more."
Around the nightfallen town, the people were cheering, with adventurers practically clapping their hands in joy. It only made the young man realize then what sort of fear they held for the monster he brought down, or the hatred they had for it.
Being taken into the mayor's abode, he was led into a rather empty, plain room.
"What's this?" Leon asked, looking around at the barren chamber.
Norbert smiled, straightening his white mustache, "This is where Newfard's grimoire is kept protected."
"Grimoire? In here?" Leon remarked, finding the small room devoid of any furniture or decorations, only light-brown wood.
His servants looked just as puzzled, much to the simple amusement of the mayor.
The old man cleared his throat before speaking clearly and concisely, "Vandala: Unlock."
Like the keys to an unseen lock, the words from the Mayor peeled the false layer from the room. That which was not able to be seen nor touched made itself known—a silver podium holding an old grimoire.
"Here it is," Norbert gestured for him to take it. "This is the book left to this town by a long passed Archmage."
"Really? Why did they leave it here anyway?" Leon asked, stepping over as he lifted the grimoire from its stand.
It was somewhat dusty, only needing a quick breath with some patting to clear up the old leather.
Norbert hummed, "Oh, you don't know? Many Archmages develop spells and write them into grimoires. Before their passing, they leave these grimores to the safekeeping of cities."
"Huh. They sound devoted to their craft," Leon said as he flipped open the pages. "What magic is in here anyway?"
"Of course," Norbert confirmed. "I believe the Archmage that developed that grimoire was a user of golem arts."
The idea of creating golems of his own brought quick excitement to his mind as he tucked the old book under his arm, looking at the mayor, "Thanks. I'll make sure to take care of it and learn what was left."
"I'm sure the man who wrote it would be most pleased to have such a wise young man such as yourself in possession of it," Norbert happily said.
With a job finished, he set out to return to his manor, finding the carriage of Frederick parked just outside of the Mayor's home. The air at night was brisk, easy to breathe as he stood beside the carriage, letting his servants go in first.
"Master?" Salvatore said, looking back after stepping into the horse-drawn vehicle.
"Sorry, just taking in the night," Leon said, looking up at the starry sky.
It was a foreign feeling, at least, a sensation that had grown distant in years he couldn't remember; a distinct appreciation for life.
["When I was Zack Gray, I had absolutely nothing going for me. I imagine…nobody really cares that I died. My mom died when I was young, and, well, my dad never gave two shits about me after she passed. Leon Schoeller though…I feel like I matter."]