While the skies blessed the land with moisture, a warm meal was shared by the passing guests at the old man's dinner table. It was always a welcome change from eating alone. With the come of night, the rain had hardly let up—if anything, its intensity only grew.
"So, you'll be spending the night here?" Gervin asked at the table.
While it wasn't the plan, it definitely was preferable to camping out under the cloud's constant sobbing.
"If you'll have us, we'd really appreciate it," Noah said, already knowing the twins' answer.
"Of course! You're my guests!" The old man happily obliged.
"Thanks a lot," Astrid nodded gratefully.
"Yeah, thanks!" Otto added.
With the coming of nightfall, the three were shown into the guest room, though there were only two beds. While there was a bit of argument between them, he made the twins each take a bed, preferring the ground for himself.
"Are you sure, Noah? I don't mind sharing with you—" Astrid offered, lifting the flanked.
Otto immediately piped up from the bed across the small room, "Hold on, hold on! Don't just offer that kind of thing to another guy without a second thought?"
"But it's just him…" Astrid mumbled.
"That's not the point! Still, I mean, it's just—ugh," Otto huffed in defeat.
Noah laughed, sitting by the rainy window, "I get what you're saying, Otto. I'm fine like this—trust me."
"Well, thanks for taking one for the team," Otto said, quickly covering himself in blankets.
There was still a look of concern from Astrid as her long ears drooped, though eventually she turned in. As he leaned on the wooden window sill, the rain did tempt him to sleep, though he declined it.
It was rather comforting; the constant, gentle "patters" against the glass and the cool air that made its way in.
["To tell the truth, there were a lot of sleepless nights when I first arrived in this world. There were some thunderstorms, and definitely fantastical beasts making a ruckus outside at times.
I developed a proficiency in staying up, somehow."]
With the passing of some hours, he sat there in thought while the relentless downpour continued, seeing hardly anything through the fogged window. Along with his mind, he remembered his past life as though watching a tape, reliving all of those memories.
From his childhood to the untimely end he'd found, it all ran through his head. He couldn't help but wonder if his family was alright, if they'd gotten over his departure.
'Maybe it's a bit ungrateful of me, seeing the sort of second chance I was given, but I wish I could go back, just for a day, even a few minutes. Just…give some closure. Get some for myself,' he thought.
While lost in comforting memories, he snapped back into focus as a vague silhouette appeared outside the window. It was just across the back fields of the house–a person wandered into the woods. As he squinted, all he could make out through the rainy glass was that it was the figure of a woman.
"What the…?" He mumbled.
Out of concern, and a bit of boredom, he quietly left the house, walking into the downpour at the summit of midnight. He ventured behind the home, following where he'd seen the woman. Each step was a "squish" of mud beneath his boots, pelted by the unending rainfall.
It made little sense to him why anybody would be out, let alone venturing into the thick of the untamed forest. Through the dense foliage, he followed the figure, though had no sight of them anymore.
'What's all of this?' He thought.
There was a barely visible pathway within the thick forest; stepping stones laid in the now muddy path, though peculiar flowers sprouted along the trail. Spider lilies; red like running blood–he was no expert, but they seemed unnatural in such an environment.
Without having seen anything, his own sense led him to squeeze the handle of the axe he brought with him. It wasn't a supernatural instinct, simply a feeling of uneasiness–an inexplicable sensation.
["I've spent my new life so far isolated, living it calm and easy. Sometimes I forget, this is a big, mysterious world of magic and monsters. I can only imagine what kind of horrors might exist."]
Cautious steps across the drenched stones led him deeper into the hidden path, pushing past the clingy leaves that hung low. It seemed to go lower into a subtle slope, though the bottom of it took some time to reach.
He stumbled somewhat, finding his footing among the muddy path as he grabbed a hold of a low-hanging branch. As he stopped himself, he heard it–faint breathing, from just some distance ahead.
"...Please acce[t it. Please…"
The voice of a woman; he heard it clear through the heavy rain. From the pleas, it sounded as though she was sobbing, almost muffled. He cautiously approached, though stopped, finally seeing something through the leaves.
It was difficult to make out, but he saw it–the woman was on her knees with her head bowed to the ground as if in complete submission. While he was confused at the sight, he quickly recognized her by the verdant dress she wore.
'Elsa?' He thought.
Before he made a move, he saw it–just who the woman was pleading to, or rather, with. In a throne of bones was an inhuman giant, likely three times the size of himself. A giant, hollowed tree ascended, seeming to serve as the monster's abode.
While it possessed human proportions, its clammy, dark-green skin and tusks that protruded from its underbite took any notion of humanity away.
At the monster's feet was a basket of fruit; a gift, though he didn't know what for.
[Identification] [C-Rank Close-Quarters Combat Skill]
["Divine-Favored Orc"] [Designated Level: Appx. 6]
The throne-sitting monster exhaled, scratching at his cheek with his uncut, black nails, "Little Elsa, I've kindly spared your village, only because of your tributes. I believe more is required, though."
A tremendously deep voice, coarse with an uncaring indifference poured from the mouth of the great savage, who picked at his teeth.
"More…?" Elsa muttered out, lifting her head.
"I've feasted on the wildlife of this forest during my stay here, but if I am to leave your village in peace, I will require true sustenance, true tributes–in the form of human flesh," the jewel-wearing monster demanded.
The woman stammered, "I-I…"
"A child will do," the orc clarified, holding one of the fruits in his palm before tossing it into his mouth. "Once a month to begin. Those conditions are fair enough, aren't they?"
"I…I can't—"
Before the sobbing girl could fully reject the proposition, the giant hand of the orc was sent across her cheek. While he intended to jump out right then, he stopped himself, reconsidering his actions.
'If I make a move with her there, she might end up in the crossfire. Can I defend her while handling that thing? I'm not sure–I can tell just by looking at that freak; he's on a different level than some goblin,' he considered.