Hugo stumbled out of the warped threshold of the inn, back into the deluge. As if the rain wasn’t enough, one eye was completely shut tight from his run-in with the innkeeper, purple and swollen. Maybe the seven levels of swordplay don’t always work, he thought. Now he was not only tired and soaked, he was beaten up.

Well, he thought, there aren’t any other inns in this town, so I suppose I’ll have to ask a citizen. As he passed the different huts, however, each one seemed more unwelcoming than the last. The few he did try weren’t even opened for him. He sighed as he spied an old barn in the back of one of the houses. That’ll have to do, he thought.

He finally reached the barn doors, creaked them open, and sank into a bundle of rough straw. How am I really going to keep this up? I’m not even halfway to Hiwataki, and this isn’t how a king is supposed to be treated! They’re supposed to be treated like…like kings. With this last thought, his chills subsided and he huddled into sleep.