The Barren Land Manor's Lower Level

Gazing at Renard's slightly immature face, Sir Howard couldn't help but sigh. His gaze fell on the ancient, long table before him, and he muttered, "I actually expected long ago that fewer and fewer people would come here in the future."

Hearing this, Renard felt a tightness in his chest. He wanted to say something but couldn't. The Barren Land was, after all, just the starting point of his glorious life.

Possessing two souls, two sets of emotions, and fate bringing them together, he didn't know what the future held.

The master and disciple chatted until dusk, and Renard had to stay overnight at the wilderness manor.

The next morning, Renard finished packing and sat on a chair, lost in thought. Sir Howard suddenly found him and warned him in a serious tone, "The Ambrisset Mountains are too dangerous for you. Even high-level warriors would have a slim chance of survival if they entered."

Then, as if showing Renard a path, he said, "A merchant caravan is heading to the City of Abundance today and needs two guards. If you truly want to gain experience, that would be a good choice."

The City of Abundance? Renard pondered for a long time before finding such a place in his jumbled memories.

The City of Abundance was located northeast of the Barren Land. It was a relatively prosperous city in the southern part of the kingdom, with a population of over thirty thousand and well-connected roads. It was an unavoidable transit point for anyone going to the Barren Land or other cities in the Southern Wilderness Commandery.

"The City of Abundance is a good place," Sir Howard sighed, his tone tinged with nostalgia. "If I were still young, I would gladly accept this mission, even though the reward is a bit low."

The City of Abundance was over four hundred li from Saint Brieuc Fortress. It would take a considerable amount of time to reach the destination from here. Although the danger was relatively low, the reward was scandalously small.

Renard thought for a moment, looked at Sir Howard's serious expression, and couldn't help but nod. "Since you say so, I'll go and take a look."

At noon, the blizzard showed no signs of stopping. The accumulated snow in the wilderness was ten centimeters deep, enough to cover one's ankles when stepped on. In such weather, nothing was more enjoyable than sitting by the stove with a bottle of mellow vodka.

Renard sat in the inn's front hall, sipping the strong liquor and listening to the adventurers boast. Some spoke of being surrounded by three bear goblins, while others claimed to have dealt with two hyena beasts alone.

One particularly old adventurer even claimed to have killed an ogre by himself, a statement that drew roaring laughter from the crowd. Ogres were terrifyingly powerful humanoid monsters, two to three meters tall with immense strength, likely only high-level warriors could contend with them.

Such monsters hadn't appeared around Saint Brieuc Fortress for three to five years, so people dismissed his words as drunken ramblings.

However, when the man pulled an ogre tooth embedded in a silver ring from his collar, the surrounding jests immediately fell silent. Even Renard couldn't help but narrow his eyes slightly.

Those were indeed ogre teeth, and the most robust fangs, which wouldn't fall out naturally unless subjected to a violent external force. The crowd couldn't help but wonder: could he really be a high-level warrior?

"Colliver, put away that intimidating trinket of yours," a middle-aged man, also an adventurer, said with disdain. "Everyone in the City of Abundance knows you bought that ogre fang from someone else for a hefty sum."

The crowd looked enlightened and then cast looks of contempt at the adventurer named Colliver. "So you bought it. What a pathetic and arrogant fellow."

"Damn you, bastard," adventurer Colliver, having lost face, glared fiercely at the person who had exposed him and cursed under his breath. He then returned to drinking by himself.

Before long, the cotton curtain shielding the wind and snow at the inn entrance was lifted. A cold wind mixed with snowflakes surged in, making the few drowsy drunks at the entrance shiver.

Then, several travel-worn merchants entered. They shook the snow from their robes and apologized to Colliver, who was drinking, saying, "Sorry, the snow is too heavy, and we're a bit late."

"It's fine, any later is also fine," Colliver said, rubbing his red eyes, his words delivered with composure under the scornful gazes of those around him. "As long as you pay, the mighty Old Colliver is always at your service."

"Then when can we depart?" the merchants asked, rubbing their frozen hands, tentatively inquiring, "Can we go now?"

They were eager to set off immediately but had to ask for his opinion, as no one wanted to travel in a blizzard.

"Now? We can!" Colliver tried to stand up straight, as if trying to shake off his drunkenness, but ultimately slumped back onto the wine table. Before falling asleep, he mumbled, "I'm ready."

Seeing this, a barely perceptible disdain flickered across the merchants' faces. Because it was well concealed, only Renard, who was nearby, saw it clearly.

The merchants carried adventurer Colliver out to a carriage parked outside and then returned. They addressed the other adventurers, saying, "We have a escort mission to the City of Abundance. The reward is eight silver coins. Is anyone interested?"

"Ding! Task triggered: Escort the merchant caravan to the City of Abundance. Reward: 1 random attribute point, 10 dinars."

Renard's heart leaped with joy, but he didn't rush to respond. As expected, the adventurers seemed to completely ignore the merchants' question, leaving them hanging.

A journey of over two hundred li, encountering a blizzard, would take at least half a month to reach the destination. Eight silver coins was a pitifully small reward, likely only an aged adventurer like Colliver would accept such a mission.

Seeing no one respond, the merchants' faces showed helplessness. The leading merchant gritted his teeth and increased the offer. "Nine silver coins, nine silver coins, is anyone going?"

The expression on his face was one of extreme pain, as if reminding everyone: this was the highest he could go.

Still, no one responded. Everyone was drinking as usual, but their attention was invariably focused on this merchant.

Nine silver coins couldn't even sway the adventurers present, and the merchant's expression became even more grim. He had to give the final price: "Ten silver coins!"

"I'll go," Renard suddenly stood up and said at a speed that astonished everyone. "Beginner Swordsman Renard is at your service."

Beginner Swordsman? The merchant scanned him for a moment, saw his neat attire, and nodded. "You'll do."

Renard bid a fond farewell to Sir Howard and rode his horse towards the caravan parked in front of the inn.

The caravan, consisting of twenty carriages, appeared exceptionally cumbersome. Fourteen carriages were laden with goods, while six carried dirty and timid-looking old men, women, and children.

Renard showed a surprised expression. "Slaves?"

"No," the merchant shook his head, denying his guess, and sighed. "They are poor folk going to make a living elsewhere."

So that's how it was, Renard mused silently. This impoverished place, the Barren Land, truly couldn't keep people.