Unas made his way alone down the long passageway and its stairs, retrieved his brown horse at the city gate, and rode leisurely back to the Whispering Gardens.
The commotion caused by the Flesh Golem had yet to die down, and several soldiers were reassuring the refugees. Rather than return to his tent, Unas chose to take a look at the site of the explosion.
The Argent Dawn cavalry squad had acted quickly, and most of the debris had already been cleared away. Erigor, clad in a magnificent golden Judgment set, sat daydreaming on horseback. His faceplate was raised, revealing a youthful, energetic face.
When he saw Unas, Erigor dismounted and came over to greet him. "I know your name, Unas-Lawugade. After all the good work you did, we're the ones who have to wipe your ass!"
He was obviously joking. Unas dismounted and bumped fists with him, a very affectionate greeting, and joked back, "Did you wipe it clean?"
"Hahaha!" Erigor laughed heartily. "Brother, you're a warrior. Not many people have the courage to face a Flesh Golem. I don't know why, but warriors are my favorite."
Unas nearly spat out a mouthful of period blood. He silently asked the heavens, Why do gay guys all love me, while beautiful women keep their distance?
"It must be because you're a warrior too," he replied, paying Erigor a compliment. "Heroes appreciate other heroes."
"Hahahaha!" Erigor laughed. "Brother, you guessed right!"
What a narcissist.
Unas spent 0.1 seconds rolling his eyes, then joined him in a silly chuckle.
"Brother, where did you get that equipment?" he asked, following Erigor's example and calling him brother. "I'm green with envy just looking at it."
"It's part of a batch of fine equipment the knight order commissioned from the Thorium Brotherhood." Erigor was immensely pleased with himself. "They stopped making it long ago because its main material, Lightforging Iron, is so scarce. I paid a fortune to get my hands on it."
"Oh? How much?" Unas asked eagerly. He still had a few hundred gold on him.
"The plans alone cost a thousand gold! Add the materials and the crafting fee, and it comes to five thousand gold coins."
The figure immediately sank Unas's heart. It was more than ten times everything he owned.
"Brother, if you want a set made, just say the word. I secretly got a copy of the plans, and the gold isn't a problem either." Erigor saw what he was thinking and patted his chest. "The only difficult part is the Lightforging Iron. You can't buy it at any price."
"And ever since Lordaeron fell, the undead have run rampant and the trade routes have been cut off. Apart from those crazy Goblins, no caravans have dared come here to do business for a long time."
"Goblins? Do they do business with humans too?" Unas asked in surprise. In the game, most Goblins belonged to the Horde, and their relations with humans weren't very good.
"If the Burning Legion had gold, I think the Goblins would do business with the demons too." Erigor made no attempt to hide his disgust. "The Goblins saw that we were short on supplies and doubled the price of everyday goods and raised the price of food and weapons tenfold. Even with profits like that, I haven't seen them for a long time. Word of the horrors of the Undead Plague has spread throughout the world."
In a place where even the greediest Goblins feared to tread, where could he have such exquisite equipment made? It seemed the Judgment set would have to wait, Unas thought helplessly.
Just then, Erigor's soldiers returned. He asked several of them about their investigation, but none of them had found anything.
"It's usually hard to get any results investigating a suicide attack like this. We've completed the task the lord assigned us, so let's leave the rest for Garrison Commander Jordan to worry about. Brothers, mount up and return to camp!"
"Yes, sir!" Everyone mounted in perfect unison. There were only a few dozen of them, yet they carried the bearing of a vast army.
Erigor, too, swung handsomely onto his horse. He turned to Unas and said, "Farewell, Brother Unas."
"Wait, Brother Erigor, do you have anything to eat? Give me something to tide me over." Unas had suddenly remembered.
Erigor swayed and nearly fell off his horse. The heroic image he had of Unas crumbled a little in an instant. He had never seen a hero beg him for food before.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and took down a small bundle hanging from his saddle. Inside was the beef jerky he had always kept close and treasured.
"A little jerky. You can even make a bowl of beef soup with it." Erigor had always admired brave men who dared risk their lives, and he would not be stingy at a time like this. Without hesitation, he tossed the bundle to Unas.
"Many thanks. You've practically saved my life." At the words "beef soup," Unas nearly drooled.
"Haha, farewell, Brother Unas." Erigor waved and quickly turned his horse around so Unas wouldn't see the pained look on his face.
The cavalrymen followed their captain into the distance. Unas hurriedly opened the bundle. Seven or eight pieces of dark brown beef jerky lay quietly inside the cloth, and the aroma of meat wafted into his nose. He couldn't resist picking up a small piece and tossing it into his mouth.
One word: delicious! Unfortunately, the jerky was as hard as stone, and he couldn't bite through it no matter how he tried. He forced it down, feeling a painful lump inside him. It looked like he would have to boil it before he could eat it.
Several refugees gathered around him. They had all witnessed Unas's fight with the Flesh Golem from a distance, and now they began talking over one another as they thanked him for saving their lives. The old man at their head even offered him a piece of bread.
Unas accepted it without ceremony and began devouring it in great mouthfuls, his eyes growing a little moist. Food must be extremely precious in this refugee camp. Good people really did get good rewards.
The bread was hardly sweet at all, yet at that moment it was the most delicious thing in his heart. He chewed in great mouthfuls, but somehow, a pair of vacant eyes, large and tinged with longing, flashed through his mind.
He looked down at the black robe he wore. The faint scent of roses had been covered by the stench of foul blood. He wondered whether the robe's owner—her name was "Lulu," wasn't it?—would blame him. He had promised her half of whatever food he got, and he had already shown off as the Terminator, so he couldn't deceive the poor little girl.
With that thought, he thanked the refugees, parted the crowd, and headed toward Lulu's tent with half the bread and the beef jerky.
Ignoring the refugees' whispers, Unas arrived at Lulu's tent and lifted the flap, ready to give the little girl a surprise. To his astonishment, the slender gray figure had vanished.
The tent was not far from the explosion. Although it had not been affected by the blast, no one would complain about being too far from danger. Unas searched the surrounding area several times, asking everyone he met where the little girl had gone. Unfortunately, he didn't know what Lulu looked like either, remembering only her large eyes and gray robe. That was a very common appearance here, and in the end, he found nothing, just as expected. People even gave him strange looks.
The Whispering Gardens wasn't very large, but the tents were packed close together. If she had simply found somewhere to hide, it would be far too difficult for him to find her alone.
After returning to Lulu's tent and waiting a while, Unas chose to give up. She had left no belongings there, so the chances of her coming back were too slim.
He spoke to the people nearby, hoping they could let him know if the little girl returned—though the chances were faint—and then went back to his temporary tent.
With half a piece of bread and a lump of hard beef jerky in his stomach, it had stopped growling. After a full day of mental and physical exertion, Unas took off his cloak, which was covered in foul blood, lay down on the straw, and fell into a deep sleep.