Milly Holworth had a terrible secret.

    Most people who knew her probably wouldn’t think so. She was a farm girl, through and through. She was even found in the same field where she worked, sowing and harvesting the wheat while occasionally smiling at the little hole Granny claimed was her makeshift cot even though she knew it was probably caused by a badger.

    Moreover, she didn’t really do anything which allowed her to keep secrets.

    She was nice, helpful and open. She didn’t hang around with the wrong crowd, wander down the wrong alleys or even butt heads with the wrong fruit slimes. Unless they were after her blackberry bushes, in which case she gently tossed them away.

    By her own admission, Milly considered herself to be reasonably boring … normal, even. And that was great! Because in a world where everything had either too many claws or teeth, she liked to imagine that somebody out there appreciated the tiny amount of calm she could add to it.

    Yes, Milly was utterly ordinary–with one exception.

    She suffered from a problem nobody else did.

    She had a stalker … and it was a sword.

    Not a person. But an actual weapon.

    Shiny, if sort of ordinary. The type of sword seen all the time being haggled over by adventurers and fawned over by children with hopes of becoming said adventurers. Which really didn’t make sense. But she didn’t make the rules.

    And as far as she knew, nobody else did, either.

    All she knew was that she couldn''t get away from it.

    When she was harvesting wheat, it was there. When she was brushing her teeth in the morning, it was there. When she was waking up in bed and rolling to the cooler side of her pillow, it was there, already taking up the side she wanted.

    It didn’t matter whether she was working, eating or sleeping. That sword was always there. In her field. In her sink. In her bed. Just lying there, bright and new.

    All except for a little scribble on the blade.

    Made in Ouzelia.

    Why a sword from a realm so far away was buried in her field, Milly had no idea.

    And at first, she hadn’t given it much thought.

    It was just a slighter weirder than usual object found with all the other weird things people liked tossing in her workplace. And unlike the wheels of carriages she sometimes found and used for a wheelbarrow, she didn’t really have much use for a sword.

    Thus, she did what any normal girl in her position would do.

    She stuffed it into a sack and forgot about it.

    There was a harvest to get ready for and as shiny as it was, it wasn’t better than a sickle for wheat.

    Except that she didn’t quite forget about it.

    Because every now and again, she’d suddenly remember about the thing like an errand she had to run. Or rather, an itch she needed to take care of. Except there wasn’t anything she needed scratching using a sword. And so she did the next best thing.

    She sold it.

    The blacksmith in Wessin Bridge was happy to have it. And if he melted it down, then all the better.

    There was no need for Milly to have a sword when her pitchfork could ward away the younger wolves which hadn’t learned to keep away just as well. And so that was the last of it.

    At least–until it showed up on her doorstep the next day.

    When the blacksmith informed her that someone had pilfered it in the night, that was when Milly started worrying. But it wasn’t until it kept coming back that the worrying turned to pure sweating. Especially since the blacksmith was starting to look very cross with her.

    Even so, no matter what she did, she couldn’t get rid of it.

    Whether it was giving it away or tossing it to the bottom of a well filled with gunk, a lake patrolled by strangler crabs or a cave populated by giant ember hornets, the sword would always be there, lying on her doorstep or hogging up her bed.

    Normally, Milly shut her eyes to it while pretending everything was normal.

    But normally, she also wasn’t hiding from a vampire by covering herself in mud. Because if half the tales she’d heard about vampires were true, then dying was the least of her problems.

    So for once, she was glad for her persistent admirer.

    It was needed to help stab the guy who’d kidnapped her during supper. Or at least poke him really hard. Because while violence really wasn’t the sort of thing she liked to do, on this one occasion, she felt the sort of conviction which children who begged passing adventurers for stories did.

    A wish to do right.

    She owed two lives worth of gratitude.

    First to a different, nicer vampire wearing cute cotton pyjamas … then to an S-rank adventurer who was both so pretty and young that Milly had felt like hiding herself with more mud.  Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Which of the two coming to her rescue she found more unlikely, she had no idea.

    All she knew was that she was strangely calm about the whole thing.

    Maybe not so much at the beginning. But there was only so much lunacy she could see outside her front door before it all started becoming the same shade of sobs and snot. Which was probably for the best. Her body definitely needed some of that stuff. And although she still felt like ejecting it all out when she remembered to be horrified, her heart would calm whenever she gripped the hilt of a sword she’d never once held before in earnest.

    At least not until now.

    Milly Holworth’s tale wasn’t done.

    She could feel it in her bones. Literally. Her legs practically moved on their own as she sought to return the way she came, a nonchalant dairy cow following closely behind.

    Because those who saved her would need saving in turn.

    It wasn’t exactly going to be the entrance of a lifetime. But she knew she still had to be there.

    That was her purpose.

    No longer did she feel the need to throw away, sell or glare at her sword when it showed up in her bathtub while she was naked.

    This time, its presence felt right. Its weight more fitting than any pitchfork in her hands.

    Although almost being eaten by a vampire had shaved away several years of her life, she’d discovered something else in turn. Courage enough to overflow. A warmth which shone through the bits of mud still caking her. So while she could flee, she could also fight.

    Milly knew in her heart of hearts that she was meant to destroy that vampire.

    It had chosen her for a reason. And so had fate.

    The sword glowed in her hand. A brightness which dispelled the fog as she waded forth like a crusader in the night. Conviction flared in her maiden’s heart as the weight of evil thickened in the air.

    Because as the faces of those she knew and loved flashed through her mind, so too did memories she could not recall. Of battles hard fought and won. Of villains cursing and spluttering as they collapsed. Of dark abodes cleansed and filled with life and flowers.

    With a deep breath, Milly burst through the line of trees and knew what must be done–

    “Ohohohohohohohoohohohoho!!”

    Nothing.

    Absolutely nothing.

    Instead … she just stood there and gawped, arms by her side as she craned her neck upwards.

    There in the youthful night sky was a sight which Milly had been spared even when at the vampire’s mercy. A set of crude wings sprouting forth from his back, lifting him high like a devil pulled straight from a book of nightmares.

    With an aura so foul it tainted all thoughts of joy, he boasted fangs cruel enough to sink into the world itself.

    They were very obvious.

    “AAARRRRRRAGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

    After all … his mouth was wide open, his eyes horrified as a heavenly pillar of light struck him.

    Milly watched as the flames consumed the vampire.

    But only for a moment. Because despite the sight of evil literally burning in the sky, it was the girl responsible who shone the brightest.

    She hovered in the air like a second sun as a beam of scorching light poured forth from her sword. A scene so insane that any barkeeper would refuse her any more drinks.

    Milly knew the girl had to be strong.

    She was the highest ranked of adventurers. Yet nothing in any tale had ever prepared her for the idea of someone her age doing something which she couldn’t achieve even in her most lucid dream.

    And so as the vampire turned to ashes … it was the dimming sword in Milly’s hand which fell first.

    Her moment of heroism gone and spent, the village girl quietly retreated back to the nearest tree where a cow awaited. The farm animal gave her a gentle nudge, then left her to quietly sit in silence as she blinked into the freshly cleared darkness.

    She was utterly stunned.

    There was no reason not to celebrate, of course. The less she had to do, the better.

    In fact, thinking about it, she really didn’t know what’d taken hold of her. She didn’t know how to use a sword. More importantly, she didn’t know how to kill a vampire.

    Even so, the strangest feeling gripped her, as though she’d lost something very important.

    A blankness veiled her mind, and through a muted sense of relief, she couldn’t help but feel akin to a piece of flotsam suddenly adrift at sea.

    Milly wasn’t sure how long she sat there.

    But it was long enough for the sounds of commotion to fade, and for a shadow to appear over her.

    “Greetings,” said the vampire in pink pyjamas, leaning forwards with a blink of her eyes. “My apologies for disturbing you. I noted your presence and wished to offer my gratitude. I understand you are responsible for ensuring I wasn’t discovered after our escape.”

    Milly stared.

    Even though she’d briefly exchanged words with her, she realised now that she still had no idea who she was. Or why she’d helped. Or how come she was on good terms with an adventurer. Or the reason she wasn’t sucking her blood.

    There were more questions that she had room in her mouth to form.

    But in the end, there was only one thing she really needed to know.

    “It’s okay,” she replied simply. “You saved me too. I’m Milly. Nice to meet you, Miss … ?”

    “Countess Miriam Estroux.”

    “Oh.”

    She was the lady type.

    Milly suddenly felt apologetic. She really couldn’t tell. Unlike with the adventurer girl.

    Somewhere in the distance, she could hear her somewhat concerning laughter. Although she had few encounters with the local baroness, she imagined that if she laughed, it would sound something like that.

    “Are you injured?” asked the vampire, her tone soft and sleepy. “If so, I can fly you towards the nearest chapel. I’d need to leave you several miles outside, but I’m certain my presence would draw any nearby sisters to your aid.”

    “No, um, I’m not injured … I think. I’m just a bit … yeah.”

    “Ah, of course. To be kidnapped by a master vampire is a truly harrowing affair. But you need not fear now. Although other creatures await in the darkness, they are less cruel. When your time comes, it will be swift and sudden.”

    The vampire tilted her head slightly, then her lips twitched as she attempted to perform a kind smile.

    Milly smiled back.

    “Thanks. I needed that. Although it’s not really the whole almost dying thing which gets to me, oddly enough. It’s more the fact that I didn’t do anything to help.”

    “That is simply untrue. By preventing harm from coming to me, you have assisted the kingdom in more ways than you can imagine. The world of literature would be in a poorer place.”

    “Oh … right. In that case, that’s good.”

    The vampire nodded … then leaned in slightly more.

    “Are you certain you’re not injured?”

    “Yeah, I think I’m okay. I just need a moment. I mean, I saw the pretty girl sort of bring down the sun on someone. And it’s making me feel weird things.”

    “That’s a common reaction. Her methods are nothing if not illuminating.”

    Milly nodded.

    Then, she paused for a moment.

    “It was more than that. It was, well … so bright that I’m sort of wondering what I’m doing. What I should be doing. This is going to sound a bit silly, but I was actually planning on helping you kill that vampire.”

    “That doesn’t sound silly at all.”

    “Thanks.”

    “Only suicidal. You were fortunate to have failed.”

    Milly’s smile turned several shades of awkward, having utterly no defence.

    “Mmh. I’m pretty sure I’d have only gotten in the way. I guess I just wanted to do something dumb. It’s sort of embarrassing. I had this moment of clarity–and now I feel a bit empty. Still, I’m really happy that guy’s gone. It means I can get back to the farm. To do farm stuff. And so can everybody else. That’s great!”

    The vampire studied her for a moment.

    Then, she glanced down at the dimmed sword by her side. She considered it with a hum.

    “To work the fields is a noble cause,” she said. “There’s no reason to feel unfulfilled.”

    “Oh yeah. I know that. I like farming. I like helping everyone around me.”

    “That’s good. Because I also believe there’s no reason to remain still. I cannot comment on any listlessness you may feel. But courage when tested is a rarer trait than cowardice. Should you wish to pursue other opportunities with the life you have, I see little reason why they should elude you.”

    Milly blinked.

    “What do you mean?” she asked, genuinely never having considered anything else.

    “It’s common to seek other pursuits when the road is opened. If the thought of aiding your fellow farmers appeals to you, then there’s considerable work which you might do to help them. All the more so if you already possess your own sword.”

    The image of Milly trawling through a cave in the desert immediately filled her mind.

    An instinctive shudder ran through her.

    “Are you suggesting I become an adventurer? Like that girl? … Because as exciting as that is, I actually have a little brother I still need to take care of.”

    “Is that so?” The vampire tilted her head slightly. “Then there’s a simpler option available to you. In my opinion, if you wish to wield a sword to defend those close at home, then you should consider speaking with the Wessin Bridge garrison.”

    “Huh?”

    “To offer your courage for the kingdom is the most efficient and practical way of defending those you care for. Guards are always welcomed. And unless things have changed in the past 200 years, the kingdom’s royal army recruits locally. Should you not wish to be posted elsewhere due to familial concerns, then I’d be surprised if there was no agreed practice to allow you to remain until your dependents are of age. It is something worth considering.”

    Milly was stunned.

    It was something she’d never thought about before.

    Not only because fighting wasn’t something she ever knew she’d want to take part in … but also because the kingdom didn’t really have a fantastic reputation around these parts.

    The Wessin Bridge’s focus was always on the travellers and merchants, with few guards to spare for patrolling the large amount of countryside all along the river.

    In truth, there was considerable resentment for it. Even Milly herself had experienced the frustration. She was no stranger to thieves breaking into her home.

    … But perhaps she could change that.

    Before she knew it, an idea which had never once entered her thoughts suddenly became a spark bright enough for her to sit up just a little bit straighter.

    After all, she now had a choice.

    There were many roads she could walk. And although she never considered a path beyond the field where she grew up, the sword which had somehow found its way into her grasp faintly glowed again as her fingers wrapped around the hilt.

    Milly Holworth nodded … smiled, then made a decision.

    She’d go home and finish supper.

    Then, later on, she’d inquire at the local garrison–about becoming a town guard!

    … And also if she could bring her own sword.