Watching Renard's still-youthful face, Sir Howard couldn't help sighing. His gaze fell on the ancient, long table before him as he murmured, "I'd actually long expected that fewer and fewer people would be able to come here in the future."
Hearing this, Renard felt a lump in his chest. He wanted to say something, but couldn't bring himself to speak. The Barren Land was ultimately only the starting point of his glorious life.
With two souls and two sets of feelings, fate had brought them together. It was just impossible to know what the future would hold.
The master and apprentice talked until dusk, and Renard had no choice but to spend the night at Wilderness Manor.
Early the next morning, Renard had finished packing and was sitting in a chair, lost in thought, when Sir Howard suddenly came to find him. In a serious tone, he warned, "The Ambrisset Mountains are far too dangerous for you. Even High-level Warriors have only a slim chance of making it out alive."
Then he seemed to point Renard toward a path forward. "A caravan is heading to the City of Abundance today and needs two guards. If you really want to gain experience, that would be a good place to start."
The City of Abundance? Renard thought for a long while before finally locating the place in his muddled memories.
The City of Abundance lay northeast of the Barren Land. It was one of the more prosperous cities in the southern part of the kingdom, with a population of over thirty thousand and roads leading in every direction. Whether traveling to the Barren Land or to other cities in Southern Wilderness County, it was impossible to avoid passing through.
"The City of Abundance is a good place." Sir Howard let out a long sigh, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "If I were still young, I'd gladly take this job, even if the pay is a little low."
The City of Abundance was more than four hundred li from Saint Brieuc Fortress. The journey there would take a considerable amount of time. Though the danger was relatively low, the pay was just as ridiculously poor.
Renard thought for a moment, then glanced at Sir Howard's serious expression and couldn't help nodding. "If you say so, then I'll go take a look."
At noon, the blizzard showed no sign of letting up. The snow blanketing the wilderness was a full ten centimeters deep, enough to cover one's ankles with every step. In weather like this, nothing was more pleasant than sitting by the hearth with a bottle of smooth vodka.
Renard sat in the inn's front room, sipping strong liquor and listening to the adventurers boast. One claimed he'd once been beaten up by three goblin bears; another said he'd taken down two Hyena-toothed beasts all by himself.
One rather old adventurer even claimed he'd once killed an ogre single-handedly. His boast drew loud laughter from everyone. Ogres were terrifyingly powerful humanoid monsters, two or three meters tall and possessing immense strength. Only High-level Warriors could likely stand against them.
No such monster had appeared around Saint Brieuc Fortress in three or five years, so everyone assumed the man was talking nonsense.
But when the man pulled an ogre tooth from his collar, where it hung from a silver ring, the surrounding teasing fell silent. Even Renard couldn't help narrowing his eyes.
It really was an ogre tooth, and a particularly sturdy tusk at that. Unless struck hard by an external force, it would never fall out. Everyone couldn't help wondering: could the man actually be a High-level Warrior?
"Colliver, put away that thing you're using to scare people," said a middle-aged fellow adventurer with a scornful look. "Everyone in the City of Abundance knows you bought that ogre tusk from someone for a fortune."
At that, everyone looked enlightened, then shot the adventurer named Colliver scornful looks. "So you bought it. What a pathetic, arrogant fool."
"Damn bastard." Adventurer Colliver had been made to look foolish. He glared at the man who'd exposed him and muttered a curse, then went back to drinking by himself.
Before long, the inn's wind-blocking cloth curtain was lifted, and a gust of cold wind mixed with snowflakes surged inside, making the few bleary-eyed drunks by the door shiver.
Several weather-beaten merchants came in after them. They shook the snow from their cloaks and apologized to Colliver, who was drinking. "Sorry, the snow was coming down so hard that we got here a little late."
"It's fine. It wouldn't matter if you were even later." Colliver rubbed his bloodshot eyes and answered calmly under the scornful gazes around him. "As long as you're willing to pay, mighty old Colliver is always at your service."
"When can we set off?" the merchants asked tentatively, rubbing their frozen hands. "Can we leave now?"
They were eager to depart right away, but they had to ask what the other man thought. After all, no one wanted to travel through a blizzard.
"Now? Sure!" Colliver struggled to straighten up, as though trying to shake off his drunkenness, but in the end he slumped helplessly over the drinking table. Just before falling asleep, he mumbled, "I'm all ready."
At the sight, an almost imperceptible look of contempt appeared on the merchant's face. He hid it well, so only Renard, who was nearby, noticed.
The merchants carried adventurer Colliver out to their carriage. Then they came back and asked the other adventurers, "We have an escort job to the City of Abundance. The pay is eight silver coins. Anyone interested?"
Ding! Quest triggered: Escort the caravan to the City of Abundance. Reward: one random attribute point and ten dinars.
Renard was delighted, but didn't rush to speak up. Just as expected, the adventurers acted as though they hadn't heard the merchant's question and left him hanging.
The journey was over two hundred kilometers. With the blizzard, it would take at least half a month to reach their destination. Eight silver coins was a miserably low reward. Probably only an old adventurer like Colliver would be willing to take the job.
Seeing no one respond, the merchants looked helpless. The lead merchant gritted his teeth and raised the offer. "Nine silver coins! Anyone willing to go for nine silver coins?"
His expression was extremely pained, as if reminding everyone: this is the highest offer I can make.
Still, no one responded. Everyone continued drinking, though their attention was, without exception, focused on the merchant.
Since even nine silver coins couldn't sway the adventurers before him, the merchant's expression grew even darker. He had no choice but to name his final offer. "Ten silver coins!"
"I'll go." Renard sprang to his feet and spoke at a speed that left everyone dumbfounded. "I'm Renard, a Beginner Swordsman, and I'm at your service."
A Beginner Swordsman? The merchant looked him over for a moment, saw that he was dressed for action, and nodded. "You'll do."
Renard exchanged farewells with Sir Howard, then rode his fine horse toward the caravan waiting outside the inn.
The caravan, made up of twenty carriages, was unusually cumbersome. Fourteen of them were loaded with goods, while six carried filthy, timid-looking women, children, and elderly people.
Renard looked surprised. "Slaves?"
"No." The merchant shook his head, rejecting the guess, then sighed. "They're poor folk going elsewhere to make a living."
I see. Renard fell silent. The Barren Land really was too poor to keep anyone.
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