The man's sword was steel. It was sharp. And it was pointed directly at Dante's chest.
"By the light of the Justicar... what in the nine hells was that noise?"
The voice was deep, but it wasn't strong. It was shaking.
Dante's [Haste] buff was still active, his mind working with a strange clarity.
He wasn't just hearing the man; he was analyzing him.
Observation: One adult human, male.
Armor: Chainmail coif, padded gambeson, and blue tabard. Worn. Rusted in spots.
Gear: Arming sword, wooden torch.
Stance: Wide, trembling.
Threat Level: High (He has a sword) / Low (He's terrified).
He was scared. He was more scared of them than Dante was of him.
His eyes weren't on Dante. They were flicking, wide and white, between the three purple-skinned Goblin corpses and the neon-pink thing that was Rin-Rin.
"Witch...?" the guard breathed, his sword dipping. "A Fae? What... what are you?"
Dante's survival instinct, the one that had made him run from the first Goblins, was screaming:
'Victim! Play dead! Apologize!'
But his mana bar was at [20/20]. He had a [Haste] buff.
And Rin-Rin had just called him "Producer-sama."
His gamer brain, the one that had spent thousands of hours navigating dialogue trees, took over.
This was an NPC.
This wasn't a confrontation.
'This was his first event!'
And you never choose the "cower" option in a first contact.
'Okay,' he thought, 'I was a Level 2 Creator. I was a Producer.'
It was time to act like one.
Dante took a slow breath. He didn't raise his hands. That was a victim's pose.
Instead, he did the most mundane, most authoritative thing he could think of: he calmly brushed a speck of mud from his ruined pajama shirt.
He stepped slightly, putting himself between the guard and Rin-Rin.
"Relax," Dante said, his voice surprisingly level, "She is my talent."
The guard just stared. His face, slick with sweat in the torchlight, was a mask of pure confusion.
"...your... what?"
"Rin-Rin," Dante said, gesturing with a tilt of his head. "She's a specialist."
He pointed at the purple bile-covered corpses. "As you can see. Pest control."
The "Gamer" part of him was convinced this was the [Charisma] check.
"We're... exterminators," he added, tasting the lie.
'It felt good.'
The guard's eyes flicked to the corpses. He took one step closer, his sword still raised, and winced at the smell.
It wasn't just death.
"This... this isn't a blade-kill," the guard muttered, his professional instincts kicking in. "This is...strange. Poison? What did you do to them?"
Dante was about to answer. He was about to build on the lie.
But before he got the chance….
"Ehhhh?"
Rin-Rin squealed, planting her hands on her hips.
"You liked my performance? It was amazing, right? Producer-sama, this new fan loves my 'Toxic' single!"
Rin-Rin, who had been pouting about her "set" being interrupted, heard the word "magic."
She heard "what did you do."
And she saw the new audience member.
She bounded forward, her platform boots making a thud in the soft earth. The guard jumped back, and his sword snapping up, a panicked yelp in his throat.
She got right in the guard's personal space.
He was a foot taller than her, a hardened man in armor, and he was cowering from the five-foot-two idol.
"My name is Rin-Rin!" she announced, striking a 'V' pose.
"I'm the platinum debut star managed by Producer-sama! My new single just dropped... all over these gross fans!"
She blew a kiss at the Goblin corpses.
The guard looked like his brain had just melted.
"...Producer?" he whispered, his eyes flicking to Dante's pajamas.
"...Toxic?" he whispered, looking at the purple Goblins.
"...Platinum?"
He was trying to fit the words into his medieval worldview. And he was failing.
Shivvy, who was still clinging to the back of Dante's shirt, chose this moment to let out a tiny and terrified whimper.
The guard's head snapped to her.
He saw a second girl, this one looking like a starved, beaten captive, hiding behind the pajama-man.
The guard's face changed.
The confusion... It settled.
It hardened into a new realization.
"Oh," the guard said, his voice dropping.
'Oh no,' Dante thought. 'He thinks I'm a slaver. Or a cultist. Or a—'
"You're Mages."
The word was a half-groan, half-curse. The guard visibly relaxed. His sword lowered from "attack" to "wary-low-ready."
Dante just stared.
"We... what?"
"Mages," the guard repeated, his voice filled with the weary resignation of a man who has just been handed a pile of very very complicated paperwork.
"Right. That... that explains... her."
He gested vaguely at Rin-Rin's entire, neon-pink existence.
"And the... the noise. And the... purple."
In this world, apparently, "Mage" was the catch-all term for "powerful, insane, and dressed for a different reality."
Dante's [Hasted] brain didn't correct him. It seized the opening.
"We're... new in town," Dante said, rolling with it. "We were just want to clearing the path. We heard there was a... Goblin problem here?"
He was fishing.
The guard's shoulders slumped.
"A 'problem'," he scoffed. "A 'plague,' you mean. They've been raiding the south road for a week. We lost two... of our men... yesterday."
His eyes went back to the three dead Goblins. The fear was gone, replaced by a grudging and baffled respect.
"You... you just sang them to death."
"Well, you know, she's a... very powerful Bard," Dante said, trying to help the man's narrative along.
"She's not a Bard," the guard grumbled, as if this was a well-known fact. "Bards use lutes. They sing about ale. She's a Mage, right? A loud one."
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his coif.
"Right. Well. My name is Thomas. Oakhaven Watch. And our Reeve, he... he did post a bounty."
"Oakhaven?"
"Yeah, the town's name. The guild posting the bounty"
Dante's heart dinged.
He could almost see the [Quest Updated] pop-up in his mind.
"A bounty," Dante repeated, his voice smooth. "Well, Thomas. We're interested. We're professionals, after all."
"By the way, I am Dante, and this is…"
He gestured to Rin-Rin.
"This is Rin-Rin. It's just a small sample of our services."
Rin-Rin, hearing "services," immediately chimed in.
"My standard appearance fee is 500 Gold 'Tilts,' Producer-sama! But for a rural charity event, we can do a discount! And I get all the merch rights!"
Thomas just looked at her. He looked at Dante.
Dante gave him a pained and apologetic "what-can-you-do-artists" shrug.
It was the most effective social-judo he'd ever performed.
Thomas, the watchman, just looked tired.
"Right. Look. I... I can't pay you. But he can. Reeve Murdoch. He needs to see this."
He pointed his sword, not at Dante, but at the corpses. "You can't just leave purple Goblins in the woods. This is evidence. You all... you need to come with me."
It was a plea.
A plea from a very confused, very stressed-out low-level employee who needed to escalate this to his manager.
"Lead the way, Thomas," Dante said.
He'd never felt so in-control, and so completely, utterly, pants-wettingly fraudulent, in his entire life.
Thomas nodded, sheathing his sword. It was a gesture of trust, and it made Dante's stomach clench.
"Oakhaven is just through these trees. A quarter mile." He held his torch high. "And if you could ask her..." he pointed at Rin-Rin. "...to not, you know, sing on the way? Please? The other lads will… hmmm they'll get jumpy."
"Of course," Dante said, all business. "She's resting her voice now. For the main performance."
"Right," Thomas muttered. "The main performance."
He turned and began to walk, his torch a steady light in the growing twilight.
Dante let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
His [Haste] buff, its immediate tactical purpose served, began to fade.
The world snapped back to its terrifying speed, and the adrenaline began to drain, leaving him cold.
He was Level 2.
He had 20 Mana.
He had two summons.
And he had just bluffed his way into his first Isekai town.
"Okay, party," he whispered, less to them and more to himself. "Let's move out."
Rin-Rin, for once, was quiet. But she was bouncing with repressed energy, treating the march like a pre-show parade.
Shivvy, however, was a different story.
She unlatched from Dante's shirt.
As Thomas walked, she just vanished.
"Creator...?" her voice came from the shadows to his left.
"I'm here, Shivvy."
"That man... he's... he's not one of ours."
"I know, Shivvy."
"I'll watch him," she whispered.
Dante looked. He couldn't see her.
She was just gone. Her [Sneak] skill was active.
He was walking into his first "safe" town with a neon-pink idol on one side, and a terrified, invisible, Level 3 Rogue scouting his own "escort" from the bushes.
The "Chaotic Party" was, officially, assembled.
Up ahead, through the trees, Dante saw a new light.
It was a warm, yellow, steady light. A light from a window.
A wall. A wooden palisade.
Oakhaven. His first town.
And then, his stomach Gumbled.
"First," Dante muttered under his breath, "we get the quest. Then we find some real food."