Snowflakes pattered densely against the little wooden window, coating the glass with a hazy layer of frost. The fire in the hearth blazed fiercely, its orange-red glow dancing across the ceiling and illuminating the simple, tidy furnishings within.
It was the end of Ivette's fourth year on the Radiant Continent. Tomorrow was the New Year, and the town's main road remained lively outside. In the snowy night, children's excited shrieks and the melodious notes of festive bagpipes blended into soothing background noise.
At the moment, Mo Jia was not in the house. She had completed a small task last night and gone to the Adventurers' Guild this afternoon to turn it in.
Compared to the Mo Jia Ivette had first met four years ago, she had now become a notable little legend in the region surrounding Adlock.
Despite always working alone without any companions to assist her, she could single-handedly wipe out many groups of highly dangerous monsters or hunt down infamous bands of brigands. In just four years, she had risen from Silver Tier to Gold Tier, becoming one of the most formidable resident adventurers in Adlock.
Yet there were also rumors that she suffered from schizophrenia and often spoke to things no one could see. Since the church vouched for her, she certainly could not have colluded with something like an Evil God. Thus, many believed it must have been caused by some cultist incident in the past. Though she had not been corrupted, perhaps her head had been damaged, leaving her especially fond of talking to herself.
Naturally, those were rumors, though they did have some basis in fact. To avoid arousing suspicion, Mo Jia had helplessly continued to tacitly accept the matter, pretending not to know or simply not to care.
Though it had affected her