Finding A Familiar Heart

I'm sitting on a large rock, facing the raging fire that Beardman created.

I'm still processing everything that happened, and the fire seems to be reminding me of the important details.

My head suddenly ached because it felt like it couldn't absorb everything that's been happening to me. The pain was so intense that I wanted to bang my head against something hard, but when the pain subsided, Beardman arrived.

He handed me a mug with coffee in it.

"Drink that; it will help alleviate the pain you're feeling," he said. I immediately took a sip of the coffee, but I wanted to spit it out.

What kind of coffee was this? It was bitter and had a foul smell. However, I didn't feel like complaining anymore because the sadness I felt was overwhelming.

Night was falling, and I still hadn't returned home. Until I found the portal back to my world, I would remain here. I missed my mom and worried that she might be forgetting about me. If she wasn't waiting for me at the front door, she was probably watching her favorite game show and had forgotten that she had a son.

Because I wasn't by her side, there was no one to remind her to take her medication. Her illness might worsen if she didn't take her medicine.

Beardman was grilling a fish - specifically, a Meadow Feral, which is what they're called in this world. Although I had no prior knowledge of Meadow Ferals, data about them suddenly appeared in my mind. Maybe this was one of Revaliant's skills that hadn't disappeared.

As I watched the Meadow Feral being barbecued, more details about it surfaced in my mind. It's called a Crescentfish, a water-type Meadow Feral. It's one of the harmless Meadow Ferals that can be eaten. Apparently, it tastes good, especially when paired with cilantro.

"Eat first, because we still have things to do afterwards," Beardman said, handing me a stick. Since I was already hungry, I quickly devoured the grilled Crescentfish. Its meat was soft and chewy. Overall, it was satisfying enough for my taste buds.

"What are we going to do with the bodies of the royal guards?" I asked him.

I glanced at Regionald's body, which was lying on the grass, covered with a white cloth. I was thankful that Beardman had covered him, as the sight would have reminded me of Regionald's gruesome fate.

Of course, I still have a heart, and despite his wickedness, I felt pity for him. Meanwhile, I tried not to think about the mincemeat scattered on the floor, or I would have vomited. The thought alone made me feel queasy, and my stomach hurt. I lost my appetite.

I saw that Beardman had finished eating. He stood up, walked around, and looked for a shovel. "Clean up the crushed bodies of the two royal guards and put them in a white cloth while I dig their graves."

I owed Beardman a debt of gratitude, so I should follow his orders. I took a large cloth and laid it on the floor.

Since I didn't have gloves, I picked up the mangled bodies of the two royal officers with my bare hands. As I steeled myself, I realized that the butterfly-shaped blade was truly very sharp, able to shred even steel armor into pieces.

Maybe Beardman isn't a psychopath after all, because if he were, he wouldn't bother digging graves to bury their bodies. Instead, he would burn them, use them as fish bait, or feed them to a carnivorous Meadow Feral. But he doesn't think that way.

After I placed the bodies of the two royal officers on the cloth, I looked at my dirty, sticky, and bloody hands. I was petrified because this was my first time experiencing something like this. Although I'd seen similar scenes in serial killer footage on the dark web, it's still not cool to be in this situation.

Beardman ordered me to bring him the corpses, and as I dragged the heavy white cloth, I thought of taking and hiding the royal officers' weapons. I could use them in times of tragedy, especially Regionald's weapon, which was no ordinary one.

I finally dragged Regionald's body, and since his head was severed, I had to carry it. I wrapped his head in cloth before carrying it. It seemed they'd share the same grave since I only saw one hole. I wanted to applaud Beardman because I was impressed by his hard work and determination to dig that deep into the ground.

An average person wouldn't be able to dig that deep in just one hour. He carefully laid each of the corpses on the ground, and as he did this, he was cautious. "Where are their weapons?" he asked me.

I wondered if I should give him the weapons or ask for them, since he was just going to bury them anyway. Beardman let out a deep sigh. "Kid, I know what you're thinking, but do you know that the weapons of royal guards or royal officers are special? Once they die, their weapons also become useless."

"I know you want to use them, but they no longer hold any power. And I'll remind you that we shouldn't claim someone else's weapon, whether it still holds power or not. We'll only claim it unless it's given to us by people close to them."

"Then if we can't use them, let's just sell them. We still have money; we can use it to buy food," I said. But I saw Beardman scratching his head, looking at me as if I was idiotic.

"Just give me their weapons so we can finally put an end to this problem." I had no choice but to hand over the swords to him. I scowled as I helped him cover the corpses with soil.

When we finished, I sat down on the grassy area, exhausted. I saw Beardman standing, gazing at the mound, and the depth of his thoughts made him look creepy. How many people had he killed? How many had he buried in this place?

When an eerie wind brushed against my skin, and I felt an unusual chill, I shivered. He sat down on the grass and closed his eyes. I noticed the extreme exhaustion he felt. His body must have been in severe pain from the impact of his fall earlier.

"You didn't quite meet my expectations, but there's something unique about you. Your potential is high, kid."

"Really? I have potential?" I asked, but then I suddenly felt down as I remembered something. "To be honest, many people have told me that I'm worthless to society, that I'm a nuisance. Even my teachers at school don't have faith in me; they seem to view me as just a headache. Although some people still believe in me, the voices of those who judge me are louder. As a result, I've become even more ashamed of myself."

He looked at me, and again, he wore a weird expression. "Don't say that. Even if many people have put you down, you should still listen to those who believe in you - the people who compliment you on your good deeds, who clap for you when you achieve small things, and who cheer you up when you feel like you've lost. They're the ones you should listen to."

I thought he would scold me, but instead, he offered advice. "You probably already know what happened to you before you ended up in my care. I saved you because I wanted to repay the kindness your parents showed to people like me."

A smile spread across my lips when Beardman said that. Although it was Revaliant who should have heard those words, Revaliant's heart swelled with gratitude for having found someone like Beardman.