13. Road to Torak

Chapter 13: The Road to Torak

The steady creak of wooden wheels filled the silence as the carriage rocked forward. I sat on the worn bench next to Alaric, who held the reins with the kind of casual expertise only a soldier could muster. The horses snorted, their hooves a rhythmic clip-clop against the dirt path. It would've been peaceful if not for the faint groan of my still-healing body and the lingering weight in my chest.

Alaric glanced at me, breaking the silence. "You're quiet. Considering how you fight, I figured you'd be less reserved."

I let out a dry laugh. "Guess I'm full of surprises."

He grunted, smirking. "You're not wrong." His eyes lingered on me a second longer before he added, "Where did you learn to fight like that? You're not military."

"No," I replied quickly, shaking my head. "Definitely not military. I… trained on my own. Grew up in a place where strength matters." I wasn't about to explain Earth to him—or my previous life. "It's… far from here. Very far."

"Different, I take it?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."

"Try me," Alaric said with a curious grin.

But I didn't bite. "It's just different. Let's leave it at that." I looked ahead at the road, hoping he'd drop it.

Alaric hummed as if weighing whether to push for more, but then he seemed to let it go. "Fair enough. You're a strange one, though. A mercenary?"

"I guess you could call me that but Adventurer is the preferred term," I said. It was easier than explaining the system or the fact that my life had turned into some sick survival game. "And you? You seem like more than a 'captain.' What's your story?"

Alaric gave a half-shrug, eyes on the path. "Not much of one. Born into a family of soldiers, raised to serve Torak. My father was a great commander, my mother a fierce warrior. I've been fighting for as long as I can remember."

"So you're loyal to Torak?" I asked.

"To its people," he corrected, his voice steady. "Leaders rise and fall, but the people remain. They're worth protecting."

I nodded. His words were simple, but they carried weight. The kind of weight you only get after years of war and loss.

After that, the conversation died. We sat in silence, save for the occasional groan of the carriage and the rhythmic beat of the horses pulling us deeper into the forest. I stared ahead, watching the enormous trees swallow the path, their twisted trunks arching high above us, like giant sentinels guarding a road that stretched on forever.

I barely noticed my own breathing slowing. My gaze was fixed on the endless stretch of shadow and green, and before I knew it, my thoughts turned dark.

The fight.

The assassins.

The blood.

I'd killed people today. Not goblins. Not mindless monsters. People.

The memory flashed in my mind—my blade cutting through flesh, the hollow thud of bodies hitting the dirt. It wasn't the gore that stuck with me, though that had been bad enough. It was what I didn't feel.

No guilt. No horror. No regret.

Nothing.

The silence around me became suffocating. I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into fists as my thoughts spiraled. I'd killed human beings—people with lives, families, dreams—and all I felt was… numb. Like it didn't matter.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" I muttered under my breath.

I wasn't a killer back on Earth. Sure, I'd fought when I had to—bullies, punks who pushed too far—but killing? That was never on the table. Now, it felt like second nature. Swing, cut, end them. No hesitation. No feeling.

I stared at my hands. They looked normal. No blood. No mark of what I'd done. But I knew what they were capable of now.

Had I always been like this?

Or had I changed—been changed—by whoever brought me here?

"Kaizen?"

Alaric's voice jolted me back. I blinked, realizing I'd been gripping the edge of the bench hard enough to splinter the wood.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," I said too quickly. "Just… tired."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. Instead, he turned his attention back to the horses, muttering something under his breath about stubborn mercenaries.

I exhaled sharply, forcing my muscles to relax. The numbness was still there, clawing at the edges of my mind. It scared the hell out of me. I'd taken lives today, and I felt nothing. Not sorrow. Not satisfaction. Just… emptiness.

I stared back at the endless forest ahead, its towering trees stretching on into forever. A path with no end in sight.

I leaned back against the seat, letting my head rest against the carriage wall.

"Whoever brought me here… whatever you did to me," I whispered, my voice barely audible, "fuck you. Fuck you for turning me into this."

But the forest didn't answer.

It never did.

Alaric's voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time. "Something is wrong."

I looked at him, trying to play dumb. "What?"

"You. I've seen that look before," Alaric said, his tone firm but not unkind. His gaze stayed on me, steady and unrelenting. "Soldiers, mercenaries, even kids too young to hold a sword—they all wear it after their first kill."

I stiffened, my jaw clenching. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit." Alaric flicked the reins to keep the horses moving, his eyes still on me. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but I'm not blind. Whatever's going on in that head of yours, you better say it now. Silence will eat you alive."

For a second, I thought about telling him to back off. To mind his own damn business. But the truth was… he was right.

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers rubbing the back of my neck. "Fine." I stared ahead at the endless path, avoiding his gaze. "It's just…" I hesitated, the words bitter in my mouth. "I didn't feel anything."

Alaric didn't respond right away, so I kept talking, the words spilling out like I'd been holding them back for hours. "Today was the first time I've ever killed a person. Hell, I've only been in this adventurer thing for about a month. Before today, the only things I fought were goblins, and even then, I couldn't bring myself to finish the job most of the time."

I swallowed hard, staring down at my hands. "But when those assassins came at me, I didn't even hesitate. I just… did it. I killed them, and I didn't feel a goddamn thing. No guilt. No regret. Nothing. It's like—" I stopped myself, my throat tightening. "It's like I didn't care at all."

Alaric was quiet for a moment, the horses' hooves the only sound between us. I forced myself to keep going. "Shouldn't I be feeling something? Anything? What does that say about me?" My voice dropped to a whisper. "What if there's something wrong with me?"

I risked a glance at Alaric. His face was unreadable, but his hands gripped the reins a little tighter. "It's not uncommon," he said finally. "Especially for someone like you."

"Someone like me?" I asked, frowning.

"You're still figuring out who you are," Alaric replied. "You think you should feel guilty because you think that's what makes you human. That hesitation? That doubt? It's what separates a butcher from a man who fights to survive."

I shook my head. "But I didn't hesitate. That's the problem."

Alaric sighed, his shoulders rising and falling as he thought. "Maybe not this time. You were in a fight for your life, Kaizen. That does something to people. You'd be surprised how quickly your instincts take over when death stares you in the face."

I didn't answer. My eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, where the shadows stretched longer and deeper the farther we went.

"It's the quiet afterward that gets you," Alaric continued, his voice low. "When you have time to think. To wonder if you should've done things differently. That's when the weight of it comes down on you."

His words hung In the air, settling heavy on my chest.

"What if it doesn't?" I muttered. "What if I never feel anything?"

Alaric looked at me then, really looked at me. "Then you'll have your answer."

I frowned. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you'll know who you are. And once you know, you get to choose what to do about it." Alaric turned back to the road. "Don't confuse numbness for strength. You're not dead inside, Kaizen. If you were, you wouldn't be asking these questions."

His words stung, but they also hit something deep, something I didn't want to admit.

I let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the seat again. "I'm just… tired of feeling like I don't know what the hell is happening to me."

"You're not alone in that," Alaric said simply.

We fell back into silence. The forest stretched on endlessly, the towering trees watching us like silent judges. Alaric's words lingered in my mind, but they didn't give me peace. If anything, they left me with even more questions.

I stared at the path ahead, my thoughts dark and tangled.

I didn't know if I was changing, or if this was who I'd always been. Either way, it scared the hell out of me.