Chapter 19

From Glimmerstone Town to Dragon Roar Town, it takes about ten days for a commoner to travel on foot. Even for adventurers on horseback, it takes roughly the same amount of time. This is because the distance between each village capable of providing lodging is about a day's walk. Unless one is unafraid of dying while camping out near the dangerous Desolate Mountains, or is willing to push their horses to cover two days' distance in one, no one is getting there any faster.

Sui Xiong and Gerald were in no rush. They followed a group of traveling merchants, walking toward Dragon Roar Town as if they were out for a stroll.

The evil dragon known as the "Tyrant of Extreme Cold" had been wreaking havoc in the deep mountains near Dragon Roar Town for over fifty years; it was not going to move house in such a hurry.

Besides, they couldn't rush even if they wanted to. The key to confronting the evil dragon was Sui Xiong's true form, His Majesty Oscar, the "Void Mask." Right now, Sui Xiong was in seclusion in an underground cavern near Glimmerstone Town, adjusting his body structure to better adapt to land-based movement. Modifying and reshaping such a massive body was a gargantuan task that could not be completed quickly. Therefore, even if they arrived at Dragon Roar Town early, they could only stay in town and gather intelligence; it was impossible for Gerald to challenge the evil dragon alone.

"Big Brother White, did you live in the mountains before? Is life in the mountains very hard?" In the merchant caravan they were traveling with, a twelve or thirteen-year-old boy curiously pestered Gerald—who was using the alias White—with endless questions, much to his annoyance.

"...Life in the mountains is generally like that. It's very simple and very dull; there's nothing much to talk about."

"But..."

To facilitate their movement, Gerald chose to travel with the merchant group. The group was composed of several individual caravans, allowing them to look out for one another when danger arose—and when the danger was too great, it was easy to find someone to act as a scapegoat.

The merchant group was quite large, consisting of seven or eight caravans, and the one they chose to accompany was the strongest among them.

This caravan was named "Lucky Coin," and its leader was a half-gnome named Soth. As a hybrid of gnome and human, he was slightly shorter than the average person. His reddish, quite resilient skin, large eyes capable of night vision, a slender and agile body, and one or two innate spells allowed him to thrive during his career as an adventurer, accumulating a decent fortune. Later, as he grew older, he stopped being an adventurer and formed a caravan, switching professions to become a traveling merchant.

The members of Uncle Soth's caravan were all his old acquaintances. Interestingly, although this caravan primarily did business with humans, not a single member was a pure human. The boss was a half-gnome, the bodyguards were half-orcs, and his two business partners were a half-elf and a dwarf. Even the employees were all of various non-human or mixed-blood origins. For instance, the one who liked chatting with Gerald was the young mage Palin, who served as the accountant—a gnome, a pure-blooded gnome.

In this world, there are many races of sentient beings. Among them, quite a few have physiques similar to humans. Gnomes, dwarves, elves, and orcs are the more common types.

Gnomes and dwarves are not tall, being about a third shorter than humans. However, no one would ever confuse the two, because gnomes are an agile and intelligent race, while dwarves are a race defined by strength and constitution. The former are thin and flexible, with red skin, large eyes, and long limbs, while the latter are thick and sturdy, with small eyes, big beards, and voices as loud as a normal person shouting.

Generally speaking, gnomes and half-gnomes often choose to become mages, or rely on their innate bloodlines to become street performers, bards, or merchants—though they often moonlight as pickpockets. As for dwarves? Aside from being warriors, they rarely engage in other professions. Perhaps some dwarves work as miners, blacksmiths, brewers, or cooks, but they are invariably decent warriors first, with almost no exceptions.

Elves are a race about the same height as humans but more slender. Their characteristics include a high affinity for magic and nature, and they are almost born capable of casting spells. However, they are very ill-suited to living in unnatural environments; if they cannot live in a natural setting, they will slowly become weak, fall ill, and eventually die.

For this reason, elves consider forests and wilderness their domain. They are one of the most powerful races in this world. During several periods of great human expansion, these two races, both possessing brilliant histories and powerful martial forces, clashed fiercely. The elves, who had conquered multiple races including dwarves and gnomes, and the humans, who had driven out orcs, mermen, and others, collided like Mars hitting Earth, leaving both sides bloodied and broken, yet neither could overcome the other. In the end, everyone had to compromise, seeking peaceful coexistence and mutual development.

Of course, nearly five hundred years have passed since the last great expansion. Excluding those long-lived legendary powerhouses, both sides who participated in the war have long since died of old age, and the hatred has slowly faded. This is currently a period where relations between elves and humans are relatively good. Elves admire the versatile potential and abundant vitality of humans, while humans envy the tranquil souls and innate talents of the elves. Over time, many mixed-blood individuals have appeared, commonly known as half-elves.

As for the orcs, they are a somewhat unfortunate, even pitiful race. Their origins are varied, but because they lost to humans in war, they were continuously driven out, eventually living together to form a somewhat chaotic race. The ancestors of the orcs also had a decent history of civilization, but the wars with humans interrupted their civilizational progress, driving them from the lands their ancestors inhabited and causing their cultural heritage to be severed, gradually becoming a symbol of barbarism and backwardness.

Sadly, most orcs have forgotten the honor of their own civilization and have chosen to accept the civilization of humans or elves. In today's world, traditional orc professions like "Wilderness Warrior," "Berserker," "Blood-soaked Swordsman," and "Soul Shaman" are becoming increasingly rare. Most orcs with talent either become warriors or rangers, or they become warlocks or clerics.

Perhaps this is because these professions, developed and refined by humans and elves, are indeed more powerful than the ancient ones passed down by the orcs.

The half-orcs in the caravan came from a tribe called "Wildstone." Their leader, Ahan, was a paladin—the type of holy servant who receives baptism and inheritance in a temple, leaning toward martial power rather than spellcasting. The deity he worshipped was somewhat special: the God of Wilderness, revered as the "Steel Lion." He was a deity who originated from the generally evil orc pantheon but had partially broken away with several subordinates to turn toward the good alignment.

Ahan and his subordinates were all followers of the God of Wilderness. Their armor and shields bore the holy symbol of the God of Wilderness—a golden lion's claw within a shield-shaped frame. Ahan's shield, in particular, shimmered with the light of divine power; it was a magical item blessed within a temple.

Sui Xiong had noticed that shield; the golden light that flickered on it from time to time felt somewhat familiar. After thinking hard for a while, he finally determined that this light seemed very similar to the deity who had stepped in to help when he was clashing with the Sleepless God.

To confirm if this was the case, he specifically had Gerald ask Ahan for some knowledge regarding the God of Wilderness.

The God of Wilderness was a deity who loved to travel and champion the weak. He often transformed into a lion-man (a type of orc), carrying a shield and battle-axe on his back, with a hammer hanging at his waist. When he encountered evil gods wreaking havoc, he would transform into golden lightning to tear through the sky and battle evil. Although in terms of divine rank he could only be considered mid-tier, his combat power was extremely formidable. He had more than once beaten well-known, powerful evil gods into fleeing in terror, making him one of the top-tier powerhouses among the gods.

As for the doctrines and detailed sect structure of this deity, Sui Xiong couldn't be bothered to remember. In any case, he could be fairly certain that this God of Wilderness was the one who had helped him out, and that he was indeed a good deity.

Very good, that was enough.

This was a raid leader with good technique, strong awareness, who led the team well and didn't ninja the loot. If there was a chance to run a dungeon with Him, it would certainly be great.

Of course, since He had helped him out during a PK, this was something that definitely had to be repaid.

"Gerald, if a battle breaks out, make sure to protect Ahan and his group," he said.

Gerald was a bit puzzled. He didn't understand why the ones needing protection weren't non-combatants like old Soth, who had been out of the game for years and whose combat effectiveness had significantly declined, but rather Ahan, who was clearly a formidable fighter. But the god's command was absolute, so he expressed complete obedience.

However, Gerald could be certain that Ahan didn't need protection at all. This strong lion-man could go toe-to-toe with a wild bear even without weapons; fully armed, even a wyvern wouldn't be able to do anything to him.

Look, that wyvern that wanted to ambush them this evening had now become roasted meat at the campsite. Old Soth's partner and cook, Duantie, was rubbing his prized secret spices and strong liquor onto the meat, and a portion of it was already nearly cooked, the enticing aroma drifting through the air.

After a day's trek, the merchant group set up camp next to a small village for the night. It was a large open space, enough for hundreds of people to stay temporarily. Because it was adjacent to the Desolate Mountains, they had already left the area affected by the Ash Forest. In the distance, green trees provided shade, and the nearby grass was lush—a scene full of vitality that greatly satisfied Sui Xiong, who had grown accustomed to the gray-black tones.

At this moment, everyone had been busy, but when the aroma of the roasted wyvern meat began to drift, almost everyone paused for a moment, and more than one person even began to drool.

Old Soth's other partner, a half-elf ranger who called himself "Yunlv," was processing the materials taken from the wyvern: the sharp talons, the fangs connected to the poison glands, the hard scales on the chest, and the tough hide on its body.

Wyverns are quite ferocious monsters. They have a wide diet, but what they love to hunt most are "frail bipedal walking beasts"—in short, humans. In fact, their favorite thing to do is to attack herdsmen and merchant caravans; even when there are people to eat, they will turn a blind eye to prey like cattle and sheep, making them a great enemy of humanity.

If this were on Earth, these guys who openly set themselves against humanity would definitely be hunted to extinction, with at most a few survivors kept in a zoo for research. However, in this relatively backward and wild world, the humanoid races, including humans, combined only occupied less than one-third of the world's land. In the vast, wild wilderness, such enemies were everywhere, and everyone was used to it.

Anyway, it was always a fight; if you lose, you get eaten, and if you win—heh, then the relationship between the eater and the eaten gets reversed!

Just like now, the wyvern that failed its PK and got farmed instead had become everyone's dinner.

At this moment, accompanied by the overflowing fragrance, Duantie laughed heartily and rang the small bell that signaled it was time to eat.

The sound of the bell saved Gerald, who was being constantly pestered by the curious little Palin. He quickly brought his account of the "Giant Tribe Ecology"—which was almost entirely based on hearsay—to a close, and dragged the still-unsatisfied little Palin toward the campfire in a hurry.

Eating was a good excuse; it finally allowed him to escape this trouble that felt like being interrogated.

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