Dark Word Curse

The Kingdom of Arthur had implemented a paper currency system over a decade ago, replacing minted coins with banknotes. But the locals of Ake Town, a border settlement, clearly still preferred settling payments in coin.

Li Wen fished out four shillings in one go. By the Kingdom of Arthur's coinage conversion, one gold pound equaled twenty shillings, and one shilling equaled twelve pence.

At least in Ake Town, a penny could buy three to five loaves of dark bread, or about a gallon of ale. So four shillings was a decent sum for a starting player, enough for Li Wen to gear up.

Though the setting sun was just fading, Ake Town's night was only beginning.

The night watchmen greased the roadside oil lamps and lit the wicks, and soon the border town was ablaze with light.

The caravan, having traveled all day, urgently needed to vent their fatigue, and the myriad taverns were happy to welcome these wealthy outsiders, offering them ale and food.

Li Wen walked down this street, the West District, Ake Town's most densely populated area. She stepped into a blacksmith's shop that hadn't yet closed.

"Scram, kid. There's nothing here for you to play with."

The burly blacksmith with a massive beard wasn't friendly. He shot the girl a glare and then ignored her.

Li Wen wasn't annoyed, not even a flicker of emotion. "I need a suitable dagger, fully lethal and functional."

With that, she tossed a shilling at the blacksmith.

The silver coin rang sharp against the floor. The blacksmith glanced at it, then at Li Wen. "Custom or off the shelf? That's not enough for custom."

"Off the shelf will do." She didn't have time to wait.

The blacksmith set down his tools, turned, and hauled out a pile of sheathed daggers and short swords from the back room, placing them on the counter.

"The finest steel from Black Dragon Territory, paired with Ake Town's best forging skills. You won't find another smith in this town who can make weapons like these."

Li Wen couldn't be bothered with his boasting. She picked up a short sword at random and slid it from its sheath. The blade gleamed in the candlelight, an artistic finish masking a lethality sharp enough to take a life. Honestly, it didn't feel all that comfortable in her hand, but for self-defense, it would do.

Refined Short Sword

[Weapon - Dagger - Common (White)]

Forged by a skilled blacksmith, capable of killing even in the hands of a frail girl or child.

"This one."

"One shilling, three pence. The sheath's a freebie."

Li Wen couldn't be bothered to haggle. She handed over another silver coin.

Leaving the blacksmith's, Li Wen stopped by a tailor's to outfit herself—mainly a belt to hang the short sword and a cloak to mask her expression and movements. There was no fitted leather armor, and the cloak had to be altered on the spot by the shopkeeper. It would have to do for now.

At least she'd look less like an easy target, Li Wen figured.

The game's hunger meter wouldn't drop enough to trigger a debuff for at least a full natural day, so Li Wen decided not to eat yet. Instead, after finishing her preparations, she headed straight for the Hop Tavern.

The Hop Tavern was Ake Town's largest inn. Li Wen didn't need to search for it; she spotted it right away.

Inside, the tavern was a cacophony of voices—loud laughter, curses spilling out. Li Wen frowned slightly but stepped in anyway.

Behind the counter stood a lazy young man with heavy dark circles under his eyes, oozing a rogueish air.

"Ale's a penny a cup, wine two pence, cheap mead a penny for all you can drink. If you're willing to toss in another penny, you get some ultra-delicious mashed potatoes... Who came up with that stupid line? What idiot comes to a tavern for mashed potatoes?"

Li Wen rapped her knuckles on the counter and casually placed a penny down. "I'm looking for someone."

Hearing her voice, the young man's eyes went wide.

"This ain't a place for women..." He noticed the penny she'd set down and changed his tune. "But hey, I'm always happy to help. Folks call me Good Guy Ivan."

"I'm looking for Black Wind Fang. Do you know them?"

They said bartenders had the best info. Li Wen was willing to take the gamble.

At the name, the bartender's expression turned interesting. He pointed. "See that table over there?"

Li Wen followed his gaze to an empty table. It was odd—the whole tavern was packed, but that table sat vacant, with no one even daring to get too close.

"That's their spot."

"Their" meaning Black Wind Fang?

Li Wen nodded, walked over to the table, and picked a conspicuous seat to sit down.

The bartender yawned, a look of amusement on his face.

"Hey, that seat's—"

Someone tried to warn her, but their companion pulled them back. Most who noticed the situation were just watching for the show.

Li Wen stayed calm, waiting patiently as time passed.

It wasn't long before a group of people with a distinctly different air walked into the tavern.

They wore half-chainmail or leather armor, carried axes and flails, and bore scars and bloodstains. Their eyes were vicious, their faces cruel. Just stepping inside, they exuded an unpleasant scent of blood.

The noisy tavern fell silent. Even the drunkest revelers dared not shout.

The group walked straight toward Li Wen.

"Who are you? Didn't anyone tell you this seat's ours?"

The speaker was likely their leader—tall, with wild hair, muscles like a black bear, eyes crueler than a wolf's, and a long scar across his face that looked like it could split him in two.

Li Wen had a guess about their identity. They were mercenaries, but that was from the war days.

After the Hedge Wood Battle, a large group of mercenaries remained on the kingdom's border. They had no identity, their quality was uneven, and they would neither be absorbed into the kingdom's army nor recruited as retainers by any lord. Most of them would become swindlers, bandits, and killers—a headache for every lord and sheriff.

"You are Black Wind Fang?"

"Since you've heard of us, why do you still have the nerve to sit there?"

Without waiting for his order, a fat dwarf hefted an axe and stepped forward, swinging it down at Li Wen.

"Aaaaaaah!"

The axe hadn't even come close to Li Wen before it clattered to the ground. The entire tavern rang with the fat dwarf's agonized screams, and everyone stared at him in terror.

He knelt on the floor, his bones seeming to have softened until they could no longer support his bloated body. Black, foul pus oozed from his eyes and nose. All the fat on his body evaporated as if thrown onto a scorching griddle, and every pore bled stinking, rancid blood.

When the Prayer Incantation was applied to an enemy unit, it became the sinister and vicious Dark Word Curse.