Joe walked with light steps, the silver sword still in his hand. Its tip scraped the untouched earth of Cumbria every few steps—earth untrampled by modern human shoes.
His face was calm. But his lips curled into a smile.
Clink.
The sword vanished. It didn't melt. Didn't evaporate. Just… disappeared—as if it had never existed.
Joe nodded slowly. "Just as I thought."
Above him, the Scroll of Edict floated, still spinning slowly like a drone in a warzone funded by taxpayers who voted against the war.
"Hey," Joe looked up. "You gonna keep floating like that? Yapping without a body, no face, no… substance?"
A smooth, dignified voice replied.
~~~~
I cannot be dismissed, unlike the Blade bound to your soul. I must remain—a witness to your every step.
~~~~
Joe clicked his tongue. "Why don't you just become a hologram screen or something? Easier to read. Like a visual RPG."
The scroll tilted slightly. Somehow, it had learned body language.
~~~~
I am a Divine Instrument. Not an entertainment program meant to let you become an overpowered dictator with dramatic lighting effects.
~~~~
Joe laughed. "Okay, okay, so you're not a cheat engine. Got it."
Without warning, he reached up and grabbed the scroll from the air—as if it were just any ordinary object. The scroll didn't resist, didn't vanish. Joe tucked it into the inner pocket of his noble shirt—just over his heart, hidden beneath folds of gold-trimmed fabric and heavy cloth.
~~~~
My ahhh... Master… isn't this a bit much?
~~~~
Joe squinted. "What the hell? You're just paper. Calm down."
The Scroll of Edict sighed—literally. A long exhale echoed from within his chest pocket. Joe ignored it.
He kept walking.
The ground changed—getting wetter. The smell of roots and leaves filled the air. Ahead, the forest loomed, its shadowy fingers dancing through beams of sunlight.
His face didn't change. But his body tensed slightly.
As he walked, Joe squinted at the trees, the sky, the absurd silence between birdsong and breeze.
"Cumbria, huh…"
He kicked a pebble. It bounced three times like it rehearsed.
"This whole place feels like someone mashed a mythology textbook with a light novel and called it holy scripture."
He chuckled.
"And now I'm the poor bastard stuck between the chapters."
Fwap.
An arrow whizzed from the bushes. Joe turned his head sharply, only tilting his shoulder slightly—enough for the arrow to miss and stick into a tree with a sharp thud.
Joe narrowed his eyes. "…Okay, that's rude."
From the trees emerged a short green creature with pointed ears. Then another. And another. Soon, half a dozen of them came out, armed with crude weapons and eyes glowing red.
"Goblins, huh?" Joe grinned.
He clenched his fist.
Shinnggg—
The sword reappeared, as if pulled from the subconscious. Light shimmered around the blade for a moment, then faded.
Joe stepped forward.
"Time to have fun."
But by his third step, his movement felt heavier. His muscles… didn't feel as strong as before.
He opened his mouth. "This form… no gym—"
The Scroll of Edict, still in the pocket, flashing red light again.
~~~~
My Master.
~~~~
Joe shielded his eyes from the flash.
~~~~
You do not require divine power to fight such lowly creatures.
~~~~
Joe exhaled—and chuckled softly.
"Alright, let's test… just how solid this 'solid foundation of mortal being' really is."
His step exploded.
He leapt—not high, but fast. The distance vanished in an instant, and one goblin barely raised its spear before its green head flew like a training ball.
Joe landed, spun, and drove his blade into two goblins simultaneously. He pulled it out—both creatures staggered backward and collapsed.
"WOHHOOOO!" he shouted, leaping again—this time kicking one goblin into a tree, its body snapping like a dry twig.
He laughed. Too loudly.
More like a monster than the monsters themselves.
One goblin tried to flee—Joe hurled his sword like a javelin.
ZRAKKK!
The blade pierced from its back through to its chest. Joe dashed over, yanked out the celestial edge, and the blood-slick weapon vanished in his hand.
Then, the scattered goblin bodies began to dissolve—into mist. No blood. No bones. Just gone.
Joe squinted.
"…There's no goddamn drop?"
He turned toward the forest. "No game-like thingy?"
The scroll in his chest pocket glowed softly.
~~~~
My Master… why are there references in your mind involving green creatures abducting holy maidens?
~~~~
Joe coughed. "A-hem. Just… ignore that."
He kept walking. His eyes followed a hawk gliding in the distance—flying north.
His clothes? Drenched in goblin blood. Sticky and uncomfortable.
He stared at them for a second. "Tsk."
BLINK.
His outfit glowed—and in an instant, it was spotless. As if ironed by the most OCD angel in heaven.
Joe chuckled. "No laundry needed."
And just as he resumed his journey—
A voice.
Weak. Hoarse. Small.
"Help…"
Joe stopped.
No questions.
He sprinted toward the voice—pushing through bushes, leaping from rock to rock.
His hand opened. Shinngg— His sword appeared.
And when he burst through the last thicket—
A small girl. A young girl holding a tree branch with her hand, standing still.
But the moment her eyes met Joe's—
She screamed.
"UWAAAA—!!!"