By midday, Mudmouth Town's tavern was filled with more subdued whispers and oppressive tension than usual. Bobo huddled in the same corner near the bar as yesterday, an almost untouched glass of rum before him. With his head hanging low, he discreetly kept an ear on every rumor in the tavern.
"Did you hear? Lord Charulu's lackeys disappeared before dawn. They must have gone to Riftback City to report what happened," said a scar-faced Beast Demon in a lowered voice.
"Of course. The Nest Lord was killed—did you think Iron Wall Vief would let that slide? I bet the city lord's army will be at the town entrance by tomorrow at the latest." Another Goblin curled up in his chair, sounding gleefully eager for a spectacle. After saying that, he cautiously looked around, and only continued with a shrill laugh after confirming the purple-haired girl was nowhere in sight. "That Witch is in trouble. And not just the Witch—some people picked the wrong leg to cling to. Heh heh."
Several gazes turned toward the Kobold in the corner at once, making Bobo feel as though he were sitting on pins and needles. He tried to straighten his back, only to hear a wolf Beast Demon nearby say as he looked at him, "Hey, Bobo, you sure made a name for yourself yesterday.
"You were so eager to grovel. What, you really think clinging to that Witch's thigh will let you turn your life around in this muddy pit called Mudmouth Town?"
The tavern immediately erupted in laughter.
Everyone here was a long-term local and knew Bobo well. Ever since he was young, he had somehow gotten his hands on romance novels from the Eastern Continent and become utterly engrossed in them. All day long, he fantasized about becoming some gentleman