Porter: Johann 22
The hero who'd gone off to take a shit hadn't returned. Even if it was a big one, he should've been back ages ago. And the priest who'd gone to fetch him had vanished into thin air too.
The mage had a bad feeling about this. They were in a dungeon. Roots of misfortune lurked everywhere.
"Worried, huh? Mage, we should go call those guys back."
The thief sensed the ominous vibe too. The mage nodded at his words.
"You don't think... they got jumped by monsters, do you...?"
The thief shook his head at the mage's concern. The hero wouldn't get casually hunted by monsters, even mid-shit. He was a solid fighter.
Constipation keeping him out this long felt more plausible. But even that thought didn't shake the thief's unease.
"That damn hero. Always making folks worry."
The two headed toward where the hero and priest had gone. Their footsteps echoed softly in the dungeon's solemn darkness, amplifying the eerie atmosphere.
Aside from their faint noises, not even an ant's crawl could be heard. It felt like they were the last souls left in the world.
For the mage, used to traveling with the hero and priest, this solitude was alien. To shake off the anxiety, she quickened her pace deliberately.
How long had they walked?
Just as they thought, This must be around where the hero squatted, an unpleasant smell wafted into their noses.
A repulsive yet familiar stench. The fishy tang of blood lingering at the end. Any dungeon-crawling adventurer knew it all too well.
Tension spiked taut. The mage gripped her staff; the thief scanned the surroundings warily, inhaling deeply, poised to spring into combat. Their dread became reality.
"Blood smell... Mage. Stay sharp."
"Got it."
The worst-case scenario they'd only dared think—never voice—flashed through their minds.
The hero ambushed and killed by monsters. The priest, searching for him, met the same fate.
With only the low-melee mage and thief left in the dungeon...
The absolute worst unfolded.
"Something over there."
The thief squinted and spoke. A hazy silhouette loomed ahead.
It looked like a single person standing. By outline alone, the thief could tell it wasn't the hero or priest he knew.
"Who the hell...?"
The thief voiced his nagging doubt. But the mage beside him solved it.
"Hero...!?"
"What? Mage, that's not the hero."
"No, it is! It's the hero! Hero!"
The mage flung caution aside and rushed forward. No doubt—it was him. She couldn't forget his form.
"Ah, mage."
A response came from the figure. His cracked, raspy voice sounded like a dying man's—gaunt and hollow. But it was unmistakably the hero. The mage couldn't contain her joy.
"Hero! You're safe! You have no idea how worried I was! What the hell happened!? I thought you were a goner...!"
Mid-ramble, the mage fell silent at the scene. An incomprehensible sight unfolded.
"Hero... what the...?"
By the hero's side, sword in hand, lay two corpses. No pulse check needed—they were unmistakably dead. Both severed clean at the neck, upper and lower halves apart.
Heads rolled at his feet, making identities obvious. The other hero and the priest.
"Mage! Get back!"
The thief, grasping the situation, barked sharply. The mage couldn't process it. Too much info overloaded her brain. The hero they'd sought stood before her—a murderer.
"Haa. What a pain in the ass."
The hero sighed. Clearly, that thief was party too.
Can't gather spilled water. So erase the evidence of the spill.
Kill and silence.
No cleaner evidence wipe in human history.
"Mage. I can explain everything."
With that, the hero raised his sword. Fresh blood still dripped in heavy drops—warm from hero and priest. Soon, thief's would mix in.
"Shit!"
The thief spun to flee. As the party's speed king, outrunning him normally took the hero's strength.
But for the hero with newfound power? Child's play.
Shhkk!
His body moved feather-light. Unbelievable for a near-corpse.
The blade that claimed two adventurers licked toward the thief's neck with sinister malice, hungry for another.
"!?"
The thief's face twisted in shock at the hero's blinding speed. Duck! Too late.
The sword bisected his neck cleanly. Same as the others. Born on different days, died the same. Some friendship.
"......"
The mage stared wordlessly. The hero looked far from their last sight of him.
Biggest change: missing left arm. Flapping sleeve hinted at his ordeal.
But the real shift was his aura. Thick killing intent poured endlessly, choking the air. She'd believe he was a monster, not human. Confusion overwhelmed her.
"Hero... what happened? Why these people...?"
"I'll explain."
Eyes on the mage, the hero sheathed his sword. His malice eased slightly.
Still, an indelible foulness clung—not a real scent, but a skin-crawling vibe.
The hero recounted recent events. The mage listened, lips sealed.
"...That's how it went."
Unlike his ragged look, his tale was logical. Piecing it together, the mage saw the full picture.
"That other hero attacked you?"
"Yeah. No clue why. Can't recall wronging him."
"Probably... because of me."
She'd vaguely sensed that hero's crush. So blatant, missing it'd be weirder.
"Total self-inflicted disaster for him."
Moment's greed birthed catastrophe.
She summed it up that way.
Of course, priest and thief's deaths weighed heavy on the hero. Better explanation might've spared lives.
"What now?"
What's done is done. Their issue: handling it. Hero's face unchanged.
"Bury 'em."
"......Bury?"
"Can't let these idiots end my life. I've got the priest's revenge to take."
"Wait! Hero. Priest's revenge? What...?"
To her question, he showed the priest's robes—the source of his mad power.
"Priest's dead. No body, just this relic. I'll avenge her..."
"Hero! Priest's fine! Waiting at the village inn right now!"
"What...? Mage. What're you saying!?"
"Gods... where'd the wires cross...?"
Dazed, the mage explained: priest returned as he stormed the dungeon.
Hero's eyes bulged frog-like. Hand clutching the relic trembled.
"Wait, then what's this...?"
"Priest found new armor in the dungeon. Ditched the old robes."
"......"
Grip loosened. Bloodied robes dropped with a thud. Hero's face paled corpse-white.
"Then what the hell was all my suffering for...?"
Two days flashed by: mistaking robes for relic, vowing vengeance.
Pushing fights sans healing, losing arm.
Near-death, refusing retreat to find her corpse.
All for nothing. Pathetic ordeal.
Reality crushed him.
"Hero..."
Mage called pityingly.
His body crumpled. From hell's depths, he wailed.
"Waaaaaah! Uwaaaaaah!"
Worse than monster roars. Venom within chilled her to terror.
"Shiiiit!"
Nothing she could do amid his sobs.
He screamed and screamed. Life's purpose denied, plunging into despair's abyss.
"Lies! Lies!"
Wailing lasted till he passed out. Dungeon rang with cries scaring monsters away. None dared near the defenseless man.