A few people on the street glanced my way as I passed by, their whispers barely audible over the sound of my footsteps. It seemed I had gained a bit of unwanted attention after the ordeal with the Queen. My appearance, not just my name, was becoming recognizable. I could only hope this would fade quickly, and life would return to normal. I didn’t like this attention—it made me an easy target for any elves seeking revenge for their fallen.

  “Is that him?” a man murmured to his companion.

  “Yeah, the scar on the side of his head—definitely him,” his wife replied.

  “That doesn’t look like an arrow scar, though.”

  “True. A claw, maybe? Something strange.”

  From my left, another hushed voice joined in. “Hey, that’s the guy I was telling you about.”

  “Him? Get out of here. No way,” came the response. “He doesn’t look like he could save anyone, let alone the Queen.”

  “Exactly. An F-rank saving the Queen? Sounds like nonsense.”

  “The general saved her, not him.”

  I quickened my pace, muttering under my breath, “Just forget about me already…”

  Reaching the end of the street, I cut through a narrow path between buildings and emerged onto a main street. Ahead, just as the map indicated, stood two shops. Between them was a small back alley where an elderly man leaned against the wall, seated on the ground. His long white beard stretched down to his chest, and his frail, malnourished frame was painfully evident.

  His left leg was missing, the pant leg hanging loose where it should have been. His ragged clothes were stained and torn, one sleeve blackened with scorch marks.

  “Hello,” I said, stepping into the dim alley.

  The man squinted at me, his gaze lingering on the fine clothes I’d received from the fat man earlier. “Oh, another rich boy flaunting his wealth?”

  “Nothing like that,” I said evenly. “I heard about your missing wooden leg and thought I’d help.”

  “Why?” he asked, suspicion thick in his voice. “What’s in it for you?”

  “Nothing,” I replied. “Just want to help.”

  “I don’t trust you,” he snapped. “Go away.”

  “Look, can you at least tell me who took it?” I asked. “Maybe I can get it back for you.”

  He sighed, his bony hand pointing to a nearby rooftop. “There. Some kids stole it and threw it up there one night. The guards wouldn’t lift a finger to help me.”

  Following his gesture, I spotted the wooden leg dangling from the edge of a nearby tavern roof. A few crows perched nearby, silently observing the street below. The tavern stood three stories tall, its roof entirely out of reach. Whoever threw the leg up there must have been either incredibly strong or incredibly cruel… or both

  “Great,” I muttered, stepping closer to get a better view.

  On the third floor, a small balcony jutted out from one of the rooms. If I could climb up to it, I might be able to grab the leg and pull it down. However, the room appeared occupied, shadows moving behind the drawn curtains.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “That’s going to be a tough climb,” I said under my breath.

  “Just leave it, kid,” the man called out behind me, his voice a mix of desperation and defeat. “I’m fine like this. I really am.”

  Turning, I saw his heartbreak etched plainly on his face. His gaze drifted down to the stump where his leg used to be, his shoulders slumping. After a long breath, he looked back at me, offering a small, resigned smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  This wasn’t just about the leg. It was about dignity, and the spark he’d lost when it was taken.

  “You got up this early and decided to help an old man?” he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

  “Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “I’ll see what I can do about the leg.”

  “You didn’t hear me, kid? Leave it. Even if I get it back, those kids will just come again and steal it.”

  “Nah, it’s worth a shot,” I said. “Be right back.”

  As I turned away, a pang of guilt struck me. I wasn’t doing this out of pure kindness—I was chasing the reward this mission promised. Without it, I’d probably walk past him like everyone else, not sparing him a second glance. In the city, winning felt more embarrassing than losing, and I was fine with it.

  I approached the tavern and tried the front doors. They didn’t budge. A sign above read: “Closed until 12.”

  Grabbing a rock off the ground, I aimed for the leg perched on the edge of the rooftop. My first throw missed completely, the rock clattering against the wall before bouncing onto the street.

  “Alright, focus,” I muttered, picking it up again.

  This time, I shut one eye, took careful aim, and threw. The rock struck true, sending the wooden leg tumbling onto the third-floor balcony.

  “Nice.”

  “Axel,” a familiar voice called out from behind me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Huh?”

  I turned around to see the Queen’s son, Boey. He was accompanied by five guards, all of whom had their swords drawn, and a mage standing closest to him. The mage was eyeing me, though she didn’t seem to expect any threats from my direction. Her gaze was… naive and kind, like she wasn’t really cut out for this kind of work.

  “What a surprise,” Boey said, his smile not faltering. “I didn’t think we’d meet in a place like this.”

  “But we were following him, like you said?” the mage asked. “Haven’t we?”

  “My gods,” Boey replied, shaking his head. “You really are something else, Nara. You know that?”

  “You… were following me, Lord Boey?” I asked, my voice dull. “Why, if I may ask?”

  “You may not.” He grinned wider. “So, why throw rocks at the balcony? Have you finally lost your mind because of my mother?”

  “No,” I said, pointing to the wooden leg on the balcony. “I’m trying to get that wooden leg. It belongs to a homeless man. Some kids just threw it up there to mess with him.”

  “Then… why not use a wind spell or something?” Boey asked, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, right. You were raised in a place where magic wasn’t allowed and can’t cast all your spells yet.”

  “You know a lot about me, Lord Boey,” I muttered, my voice flat.

  “I’m the Queen’s son. Of course I do,” he said, still smiling. “Nara, get that wooden leg for Axel, will you?”

  “Yes, sir!” Nara replied quickly.

  She raised her hands, and in an instant, the wooden leg began to levitate. It floated down gently, coming to rest at my feet. I picked it up and examined it carefully. No major damage, just a few scratches along the sides. Nothing serious.

  “Thank you, Lord Boey,” I said. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Oh, it’s the least I could do for destroying that forest,” Boey said, scratching the back of his head. “And saving my mother, of course. Let’s not forget about that.”

  “R-right,” I replied, suddenly feeling awkward.

  “Anyways,” Boey continued, waving a hand dismissively, “I’ll let you be. Goodbye, Axel. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes, my lord. Thanks again.”

  I stood frozen, watching them as they walked off toward the end of the street. This was probably the weirdest encounter I’d had in a long time.

  “Fuck me,” I muttered under my breath, feeling drained. “First the Queen, now her son. They don’t end.”