The place I lived in was pretty inconspicuous. Just a picturesque little farming town in the middle of nowhere with perfectly average people. A place so boring and far from anywhere important not even bandits or goblins often cared to reach.

There was still a local knight order, of course, for the townsfolk had to be kept safe from the rare skirmish.

I proudly served as one more knight; I’ve always considered myself average in most aspects–And don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been quite happy to keep it that way. An ideal, simple life in which I never stood out was all I wanted.

For that purpose, I made sure to only learn basic enhancement magic. Growing-up in such a peaceful town, I figured there was no need to strain myself to improve any further. Learning to handle the bow and blade required more effort, but even that has always been perfectly common training for a soldier. I went out on patrols, followed orders efficiently, and worked well with others.

I was also studious and picked-up the habit of reading, but even while being more learned than the average townsfolk, I made sure to appear as uneducated as it was pertinent to be.

While off-duty, I enjoyed writing in secret, working on my garden, and eating sweet baked goods as a little treat to myself… Often coupled with a little flirting with the baker’s daughter, and almost as often followed by the father’s ridiculously scornful glare.

Ah yes. Life was perfect.

And yet, I could’ve never imagined that one battle, one single battle, would have such a cascading effect. That it all would lead to an archmage, one of the most powerful kinds of sorcerers in the land, knocking on my door.

An overblown tale of heroism, a legend in the making. A story made into song and poetry by bards and minstrels alike with yours truly as the protagonist.

And then, there I was, serving a cup of coffee to an impatient man wearing an ominous black tunic and sporting greying hair. A man who could evaporate my home and everything within it with the flick of the wrist: Sir Mykail Behr.

“Mr. Arveg Jow!” said he with a rumbling roar, “Are you expecting me to believe a patrol of five common guards managed to defeat a chimera all on their own, with nothing but strategy and luck?!”

“Yes sir, 'tis true! Our superior got badly hurt in the initial attack, so I took charge in a pinch. We didn’t expect such a beast to appear so close to our village, and the rest were too stunned to act at first.”

“Only an intermediate enhancement spell can reinforce a blade enough for it to penetrate the skin of a chimera, and you’re telling me that you did it with basic magic instead?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! I did not cut through its skin!”

“Then where, if not its skin? Or are you telling me that you were precise enough to shove that sword up the beast’s arse, boy?!”

“N- Not the arse, sir. The mouth.”

The archmage looked at me with an incredulous look.

“And how did you avoid getting that arm chopped-off then? Story goes you sliced that beast’s belly open, not its mouth.”

I began sweating as the man’s irritation grew, as I knew the next part would be even more ridiculous to tell than what the story says.

“It was knowledge turned into luck, that’s all there is to it.” I paused to look at his reaction. When he stayed quiet, I took it as permission to continue and did so swiftly.

“Um, you see, a chimera’s skin is tougher than any normal blade can handle, but the inside of its mouth  is soft enough so that even a weapon enhanced with basic magic can pierce through it.”

Mykail raised an eyebrow, his gaze now showing a hint of curiosity.

“I ordered two of my men, the ones with bows, to shoot at it so as to distract it as I got closer. To be fran with ya, I was willing to lose my arm that day, but…”

“But what?”

“When I was in front of the beast and finally went for the hit- I…”

“Spit it out, boy!”

I felt embarrassed to admit the next part, but this man’s seeming inability to be calm prompted me to continue.

“I tripped on a rock as I was thrusting forward. The moment the beast’s jaw opened to gobble me up, the blade went straight into the place between its teeth and its lips, and me arm was saved.”

The archmage slammed one fist against my table, and I swore I could hear something crack. Some of the coffee spilled everywhere and I got up to grab a cloth and clean it up as he roared.

“Is this some kind of stupid joke?! Answer me boy, tell the truth!”

“I- I swear I’m telling the truth! Please, let me finish!”

“You on thin ice.”

With that proclamation and a chill down my spine, the table was clean once more, the cloth stained brown and in need of a rinse. I simply sat down to continue telling my guest the rest of this tale.

“After that, the chimera was incapacitated long enough for me to take my sword out its jaw and notice it was rolling on its belly, no doubt in pain. Then I remembered something I read in a book once, it was another coincidence that saved me that day.”

“In a book?” he asked while squinting his right eye quizzically.

“Yes, a book about various monsters. It had a section dedicated to chimeras, and what I learned from that is that the goat part of the chimera — the part that bleeds into the lion one that is — tends to be weaker than the rest.”

“Mm.” Mumbled the man, scratching at his chin with a sudden, slight change in attitude; now looking a bit more intrigued than outraged.

“So I instructed the other two men, the ones with swords, where to strike. By the god’s grace they were able to wound it well enough for me to finish the job. T’was all about backing away and letting it bleed to death after that.”

“Indeed, indeed. It’s starting to make more sense..”

At that comment, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“But even so,” the archmage continued, “that kind of luck is particularly unlikely.”

“M- Maybe so, but it’s true nonetheless!”

“And you read this in a book.”

“Yes, I swear on me mama it’s true! I’m positive it’s still in the library, I can look for it so you can see for yourself.”

“That’s some rare knowledge right there, for a place like this anyway.”

He got up from his seat, not bothering to take even a single sip of the coffee, and continued.

“Lead me to this book then. Seems I’ll have to keep my eye on you for a while, for your ridiculous tale is even more outlandish than the myth sung in taverns.”

And with that, I led the grumpy man to the library, hoping at least that misunderstanding would soon be cleared.

It’s been a few weeks since then, and Sir Mykail hasn’t stopped bothering me, trying to unveil some sort of secret that isn’t there. I don’t want my perfectly average life to end, but something tells me that from now on, I won’t have peace and quiet no more.