Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Turn your arm around," the innkeeper instructed.

In Ian’s room on the second floor of the tavern, the innkeeper was busy fastening a leather spaulder onto Ian's shoulder. Ian, complying with the innkeeper's actions, moved his arm smoothly to assist in the fitting.

"That's good," observed the innkeeper.

The spaulder fit Ian's shoulder perfectly, not hindering his movement in the slightest. The sensation of the leather straps was secure and firm.

"The trickiest part is over," the innkeeper muttered as he began tightening Ian's armor straps. Ian had requested his help with these preparations. Now that he needed to wear his armor like regular clothing, this task was essential. However, Ian's request for the innkeeper's help was for more than just assistance with the armor.

"Are you leaving immediately?" the innkeeper asked before Ian could speak up.

"I've been given a quest," Ian responded with a shrug.

"Even so..."

"There's nothing more for me here anyway. It's time to move on,” said Ian.

The innkeeper clicked his tongue, clearly upset by the thought of Ian departing.

He's making quite a fuss about it, thought Ian.

"Enough of that, tell me about the rumors," said Ian.

"What kind of rumors are you looking for?"

"The ominous ones. You hear them often enough."

Ian's real motive was to gather information. Taverns, being centers for travelers, outsiders, and chatty drunks, were ideal for collecting all sorts of rumors. This made them the perfect place for Ian to gather intel for his quest targets, a kind of investigative work.

"There's no shortage of those. The curse of the Black Wall spreading like a plague. What do you want to hear? A pack of wolves that eat only human flesh? A four-eyed crocodile in the underground sewers? Maybe headless horsemen and blood-thirsty fairies?"

The kingdom was rife with such rumors. Ian knew all too well that every one of them was real. It was indicative of how chaotic the dark ages were.

"Anything about specific places?"

"Well... there are rumors about a castle where blood flows from the walls, a cave where wails are heard, a forest where those who enter never return...."

Ian's eyebrow twitched. This was the story he was waiting for. "That'll do. Was it the Tomb Forest, perhaps?"

"Correct. Although the story behind it isn't as grand as its name suggests." The most uptodate novels are published on n0velbjn((.))com

With a firm pull, the innkeeper tightened a strap on Ian's armor and briskly dusted off his hands.

"You don't usually join in on the tavern talk, but you know quite a bit," said the innkeeper.

"It's just like you overheard the conversations I had downstairs. If you're unhappy about it, maybe you should redo the flooring."

The innkeeper, with a slight smirk, picked up the gaiters and crouched down in front of Ian.

"That forest has an underground tomb. Rumor has it that ancient fairies built it. Anyway, since the times of the war against the demons, fallen soldiers have been entombed there. Rather than leaving corpses scattered all around, they threw them into the underground."

"And?" Ian recalled the Tomb Forest from the game, it was a credible backstory.

"Commoners also started burying their dead there. Whether tossed into the underground or buried in the forest. It was like that until recently. But then, a thick fog descended over the area." The innkeeper, having fitted the gaiters snugly onto Ian's shins, continued speaking. "Since then, people who enter don't return. No one dares to go there anymore. That's all there is to it."

"Were there no attempts to investigate?"

"There's nothing to gain. Even grave robbers avoid it. Why bother?"

"Right." Ian nodded agreeably, Ian continued, "That's why it interests me.”

Ian had gathered all the necessary information.

"You're bringing that knight with you? What do you hope to find?" The innkeeper raised an eyebrow curiously.

A dark mage enjoying his own party in the bone paradise, Ian thought to himself.

"What's there to find in such a tiny village, really? But it's the most likely place to start. How long will it take to get there?"

"On foot, about a week. No more than ten days at most. It's faster on horseback. Anyone local should know its name and location, so it shouldn't be hard to find.”

"I see...."

A week, or at most ten days. It seemed like it was only a ten-minute journey in the game. Ian gathered his thoughts.

"Anything else you want to ask? Anything else I can assist with?" The innkeeper stood up.

"No, that's all. Thanks for your help. I owe you one till the end." Ian picked up the sword he had placed on the table and stood up.

"I didn't expect the room to be vacant so soon." The innkeeper clicked his tongue.

"I told you I had no intention of settling down."

"Still, it wouldn't have been so bad if you had decided to stay."

This guy, he seems really upset about it. Ian chuckled,

"How long do you think this peace will last?" the innkeeper asked, his gaze sweeping the room.

"Not long," Ian replied nonchalantly.

"Just finish what you were saying," Mev interjected, bringing the conversation back on track.

"I’m thinking of heading to the Tomb Forest first," said Ian.

"Tomb Forest...?" Philip sounded puzzled.

"It's got a bad reputation," Ian explained.

"It's on our way to the capital, so it wouldn't be a detour. But I'd appreciate more concrete reasons," Mev said earnestly.

"The dark mage is likely hiding somewhere. He talked about planting 'seeds' and waiting for the harvest," replied Ian as he nodded.

"I had suspected as much," said Mev.

"So, I picked a likely hiding spot," replied Ian.

"But isn't that place just an unmarked grave, full of bones?" Philip interjected.

"An ideal environment for a dark mage. Plus, with nothing to gain, no one would bother going there. And it's not causing any trouble outside the forest. Seems like enough reason to me," Ian replied.

"Even so, right in the heart of the kingdom...," Philip murmured, still unconvinced.

"They say the answer is often right under one’s nose," said the innkeeper, joining the conversation with a nod toward Ian. He added, "The Fixer here may not be the friendliest, but he's never been wrong so far. You won't regret following his lead."

"What if it's a wild goose chase?" Ian retorted.

"Well, at least the cursed forest will be gone." The innkeeper laughed.

"Both of you make valid points. Fine, we'll follow the mercenary's lead." Mev nodded.

"Ian. Call me Ian, not the mercenary, Sir Riurel." Ian corrected Mev.

"Aright. Ian," Mev conceded.

"We'll waste at least a day of our precious week." Only Philip seemed unhappy about this decision.

"If you're scared, just say so. I'll let you wait outside the forest." Ian's comment made Philip's eyes widen.

"Scared? I'll lead the way!" said Philip.

"Alright. Make sure you do," Ian chuckled.

"We don't have much time, let's depart immediately. The meal was good. Thanks." Mev put down her fork.

Philip hurriedly gathered his belongings.

"Take care. Hope to see you alive again." The innkeeper nodded to Mev and then turned to Ian.

"We won't meet again. Dead or alive,” replied Ian

"So cold, even in farewell," the innkeeper chuckled.

"False hope only shortens lifelines." Ian left the innkeeper behind with a dismissive click of his tongue and stepped out.

Just as Ian was about to open the door, the maid's voice urgently followed him.

"Wait a moment!" shouted the maid.

Ian's brow furrowed in annoyance. 'How much longer does she plan to cling on?' Ian thought. As he turned around irritably, the maid extended a bundle wrapped in cloth toward him.

"Take this with you, Fixer,” said the maid.

"What's this?" Ian asked.

"I packed some ham and cheese for your journey." She handed the bundle to Ian, adding, "Be careful, Fixer. You got that?"

After making brief eye contact, Ian awkwardly replied, "Alright. If anyone bothers you, grab anything sharp and aim for the throat. Or the eyes, that's also effective."

The maid smiled at his words. Ian nodded and then left the tavern. It wasn't such a bad farewell, after all. A faint smile briefly crossed his lips.

"My lord, did you see that?" Philip's voice echoed as he followed out. "The maid's eyes were just so full of longing..."

Ian's steps involuntarily halted. "Sir Riurel, I have a request." Ian continued, "Can I cut off your squire's tongue? It seems like it would be helpful for our journey."

Ian turned to Mev with a cold, icy gaze.

Philip's face paled.

"That's absolutely not allowed." Mev, donning her helmet, brushed past Ian and added, “But if there ever comes a time when it's necessary, I'll consider it."

"Such a frightening joke, my lord... you are joking, right?" Philip forced a nervous smile.

"I'll gladly do it. Free of charge," said Ian.

"Haha. You folks have quite a sense of humor. Well, then, I'll go ahead and fetch the horses!" Philip, stiff as a marionette, hurriedly followed Mev.

"Horses..." Ian murmured, stashing the bundle in his pocket dimension.

Ian wasn't fond of riding. To the people of this world, horses were a prized mode of transportation, but he found them bothersome and uncomfortable, needing too much care. But for this journey, it was essential to save time and energy.

"No choice, I guess." After a sigh, Ian leisurely began walking, musing that he could probably get a horse at a reasonable price, considering he had once completed a task for a stablemaster.