Chapter 808

【 MOVED 】

“Go… gold coin?!”

The moment Old John saw the elf take out a gold coin from his pocket, his eyes widened in disbelief.

However, he quickly noticed the burning gazes directed at him from all around the tavern, causing his heart to skip a beat.

A single gold coin might not amount to much in the eyes of professional adventurers, but to apprentices and squires who had yet to reach the Iron-rank, as well as to most of the drunkards and loafers gathered in the tavern, it was an enormous fortune.

Moreover, Old John was not like the bartender as the man had the tavern behind him. In all honesty, the Black Walnut Tavern had managed to operate peacefully in the commoners’ district for so many years precisely because it maintained countless connections with the gangs of the nearby slums. Let alone one gold coin, even ten would not tempt anyone to target the bartender.

Old John, however, was different.

He was nothing more than a destitute freeman with no one to rely on.

So if he accepted that gold coin, he had no doubt that the moment these elves left, someone would without a doubt, mark him as their next victim.

Such things happened far too often in the commoners’ district to the point that even the city guards rarely bothered to intervene anymore.

No…

He would already be fortunate if those guards did not set their sights on him themselves.

Thinking of this, Old John reluctantly tore his eyes away from the gleaming coin and said with a bitter smile,

“Honored elves, you’ve already healed my injuries, and for that, I’m more than grateful enough. I’m willing to take you to the vicinity of the mine, but there’s no need to pay me…”

As he spoke, his gaze drifted toward the glass of Erguotou the elves had ordered.

Swallowing hard, he continued,

“B-But if… if you don’t mind, perhaps you could treat me to a glass of that instead. You see, I’ve wanted to taste it for a long time, but I’ve never had the chance so I’ve always wonder what Erguotou would tastes like.”

The elven warrior paused in surprise upon hearing Old John’s request. His eyes swept across the tavern, and many of those who had been watching immediately looked away. Noticing the uneasiness hidden in their expressions, a look of understanding flashed across the elf’s face.

“My apologies. I understand now. I wasn’t thinking things through.”

He nodded.

Then he looked at Old John, whose eyes remained fixed longingly on the glass of Erguotou in his hand. Breaking into a bright smile, he turned to the bartender.

“Another glass of Erguotou.”

“Right away, honored Elf.”

Before long, under the envious gaze of everyone in the tavern, the bartender placed a glass of Erguotou before Old John.

Staring at the crystal-clear liquor and inhaling its rich aroma, so different from ordinary ale, Old John’s eyes grew even wider.

By the Gods above…

Never in his life had he imagined that he, Old John, would one day drink a liquor reserved for the nobility.

He carefully lifted the glass and took a gentle sniff, a look of bliss washing over his face.

To him, it smelled like gold coins.

Holding the glass as though it were a priceless treasure, Old John cautiously brought it to his lips and took a small sip.

The fiery liquor burned its way down his throat with overwhelming intensity. Unable to endure it, he erupted into a violent coughing fit, prompting the elven warrior beside him to burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! Take it slow. This liquor is produced in the Elven Forest. It has quite a kick.”

“Cough… cough… This taste is rather strange. So this is what nobles enjoy drinking? I don’t think I can get used to it…”

Old John replied between coughs, tears streaming from the irritation.

He understood the nobility less and less.

He could not fathom why this liquor was so highly prized. Honestly, he thought the cheap ale he usually drank tasted much better.

“Heh, this has already been diluted with water. If you drank the original undiluted version, it would be far stronger.”

The elf chuckled.

“W… watered down?”

Old John’s eyes widened in astonishment.

He looked down at the liquor in his hand, unable to imagine just how intense it would be without any water added.

The bartender, standing nearby, looked somewhat embarrassed.

“Ahem… Honored Elf, every tavern dilutes this liquor with water because it’s simply too strong. But if you’d prefer… I can bring you an undiluted version. The price, however, would be several times higher.”

“No need, it’s fine. I’m actually not much of a fan of Erguotou either and still prefer elven flower tea.”

The elven warrior waved his hand dismissively.

After finishing their drinks, the three elves left the tavern, with Old John following behind them.

The weather was particularly pleasant that day.

The warm sunlight bathed the streets, and perhaps because of the alcohol, Old John felt lightheaded all over.

This liquor…

Its aftereffects really were quite powerful.

His steps felt strangely weightless, and a dull ache slowly began to build in his head.

Then, another gentle radiance enveloped his body.

Old John felt a cool, refreshing energy flow into him, circulating throughout his entire body before quietly fading away.

In an instant, the dizziness and the faint headache vanished without a trace.

Not only that, but the layers of grime that had accumulated over months without bathing disappeared as well, and even his tangled, unkempt hair became noticeably tidier.

Feeling the remarkable changes in his body, Old John looked up in astonishment toward the elves.

He saw the beautiful elven woman slowly lowering the magic staff in her hand.

“This is Purification Magic,” she explained with a gentle smile. “It can dispel intoxication, and it also cleanses the body.”

The smile was so warm and sweet that Old John was once again overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Thank you… Thank you so much… beautiful Lady Elf.”

He hurriedly expressed his thanks.

Although he had never been in the habit of washing himself regularly, the refreshing feeling that now filled his body was simply wonderful.

“You can call me Dōngdōng. My name is Dōngdōng Galewind.”

The young female elf said gently.

The elven warrior then pointed proudly at himself.

“Demacia, Demacia Rageblaze.”

As for the black-haired elven druid, who was clearly the leader of the group, he smiled kindly and said,

“My name is Li Mu, Li Mu Shadowshade.”

As he spoke, he looked Old John up and down, carefully examining his tattered clothes and worn shoes. After a moment of thought, a flash of light appeared in his hand, and as though performing a magic trick, he produced a brand-new set of common human clothing.

“Your clothes are in pretty bad shape. You should change into a new set. I’m just not sure whether they’ll fit you.”

Old John’s eyes widened at the sight of the pristine clothes.

By the Gods!

That fabric… it was unquestionably high-quality cloth produced by the Kingdom of Aries.

He had only ever seen wealthy townsfolk in the inner city wearing clothing made from such fine material.

A single outfit like this had to be worth at least fifty silver coins.

It was an exceptionally thoughtful choice. Clothes at this price were luxurious enough to improve his appearance, yet not so extravagant that they would make him a target.

At the very least, they would not bring the same danger as carrying around a gold coin.

“I… I…”

Old John suddenly became awkward and at a loss for words.

Before he could refuse, the elf gently placed the clothes into his hands.

“Go ahead and take them. I still have plenty of spare sets, and it’s about time you replaced those old clothes.”

Old John accepted the clothes with trembling hands.

For reasons he could not explain, his heart was deeply moved.

He had been living here in the Northern Territory for an entire year and during this whole year, no one had ever treated him with such kindness.

His homeland had been destroyed by demons. His family had perished amidst the chaos of war. A corrupt refugee transporter had swindled him out of his travel money, after which he had fallen victim to bandits, who stole the last of his remaining possessions.

Even after arriving in Luke City, his hardships had not ended.

He had first been bullied by other refugees. After finally finding work, his wages were repeatedly withheld. He spent every day exposed to the elements, and his health deteriorated with each passing day. By this point, he no longer knew how much longer he could endure.

To make matters worse, he had recently been brutally beaten by a noble.

Had he not encountered these elves, he truly had no idea what would have become of him after suffering those injuries.

Perhaps…

He would not have survived the year.

Without the strength to work, deprived of any source of income, and with his health steadily worsening, refugees like him could do little more than slowly wait for death.

Such deaths were a common sight throughout the territory.

In the end, the Church would collect their bodies, wrap them in burial cloth, and burn them.

Not because the Church was acting out of compassion, but because it feared that unattended corpses might give rise to undead.

It could be said that for refugees like them, even death attracted no sympathy.

As despair gradually consumed him, the Eternal Church, to which he had devoted his faith, never once reached out to help him.

Instead, it was these elves, whom the Church had always condemned as savage and brutal, who had extended him a helping hand.

It was only a cup of liquor and a set of clothes.

Yet to Old John, they were like a ray of light piercing through the darkness and illuminating the depths of his heart.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, his eyes slowly filled with tears.

“Thank you… Thank you… kind Elves… Thank you so much…”

He bowed again and again, his voice choked with emotion.

At last, he could no longer hold back his feelings and broke down into uncontrollable sobs.

As a grown man, Old John was both strong and fragile.

The destruction of his family had not broken him.

A year of hardship and poverty had not broken him.

Yet at this very moment, the kindness shown by the elves became the final straw that broke the camel’s back, touching the softest corner of his heart.

It was the part of himself he had buried deepest within, the vulnerable part he had hidden behind a facade of strength.

Pain.

Grievance.

Sorrow.

All of it surged forth in an instant, erupting without restraint.

“Don’t cry. Go change into your new clothes. This is simply what we should do.”

The elven druid named Li Mu sighed softly and patted him on the back.

Old John sniffled, bowed deeply once more, then hugged the clothes tightly to his chest before running behind the tavern.

He remembered there was a storage room there, just the right place to change.

A few minutes later, when Old John returned to the elves, he looked like a completely different person.

Dressed in clean, well-fitting clothes, he appeared far more energetic. He no longer resembled a weary old man in his sixties or seventies. Instead, he finally looked closer to his true age.

Wearing the soft, comfortable clothes and sturdy shoes, Old John felt as though he had been reborn.

Even the sky seemed a deeper blue than before, and the sunlight felt warmer upon his skin.

“Very nice. They fit you perfectly.”

The elves’ eyes lit up as they looked at him, and they exchanged approving nods.

Old John had always possessed decent features. Now, after cleaning up and changing into fresh clothes, he appeared surprisingly handsome, like a distinguished older man who had weathered countless hardships and carried many untold stories.

Embarrassed by the elves’ praise, Old John awkwardly pinched the fabric of his new clothes and said shyly,

“It’s because of the clothes you gave me, my lords. They fit so well.”

“It’s nothing. This is simply what we ought to do.”

The elven druid named Li Mu smiled as he waved his hand dismissively.

The warrior who called himself Demacia also nodded. With a devout expression, he said,

“That’s right. Our Goddess has taught us that all living beings are equal. Those who are strong should help those who are weak. Only by working together can everyone create a better future.”

As he spoke, he traced the symbol of the Staff of Life across his chest, his face filled with reverence.

“The… Goddess…”

Seeing the fervent devotion on the elf’s face, Old John murmured softly, his heart stirred even more deeply.

Traveling bards had always sung that the Goddess of Life was a benevolent and powerful deity.

Now, it seemed those songs had spoken the truth.

The Eternal Church had deceived him once again.

How could the Goddess of Life possibly be as vile as they claimed? She was clearly a kind and righteous deity.

Otherwise, how could these elves who worshiped Her be so compassionate and friendly?

Their hearts were every bit as beautiful and noble as their appearance.

At that moment, Old John’s heart overflowed with admiration for both the elves and the Goddess of Life.

At the same time, he found himself growing curious about the Church of Life.

What kind of church was it?

Was the Maple Moon Free State truly as wondrous as the rumors claimed?

However, he knew there was still important business to attend to, so he suppressed his curiosity.

Taking a deep breath, Old John revealed a bright smile and respectfully said,

“Lord Li Mu, Lord Demacia, Lady Dōngdōng, thank you all. I’m ready now. Shall we head to the mine?”

“No rush.”

Li Mu shook his head.

“We still have a few companions in the inner city. They’ll be here shortly, so we’ll wait for them.”

As he spoke, he looked Old John over once more. His gaze lingered on the man’s slightly darker complexion, dark hair, and deep, well-defined eye sockets before he asked curiously,

“Judging by your appearance, you seem to have some of the features common to the people of the Kingdom of Aries. Why didn’t you flee south? How did you end up escaping all the way to the northern part of the continent?”

Old John scratched his head before answering.

“That’s right. I do have half Arisian blood. My father was an Imperial citizen, while my mother was from the Kingdom. However, they were both killed years ago during a war by the soldiers of a noble.”

“I originally lived as a farmer on the Empire’s frontier. After the demons invaded, they massacred our village and cut off the southern route.Thus, I had no choice but to board a merchant caravan’s ship and flee north.”

“Are you the only one left in your family?”

Dōngdōng asked curiously.

Old John fell silent for a moment, his expression turning desolate.

“My wife… and my two children… are all gone.”

A trace of apology appeared on Dōngdōng’s face.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have asked. The demons are cruel and merciless. They’ve destroyed so many happy families…”

“No…”

Old John slowly shook his head.

“It wasn’t the demons.”

“Not the demons?”

Dōngdōng blinked in surprise.

Old John clenched his fists tightly, only to slowly loosen them again.

Letting out a weary sigh, he spoke with both grief and lingering indignation.

“It was the routed soldiers.”

“I fled together with my wife and children. But during our escape, we encountered a group of a noble’s routed soldiers, soldiers who had been defeated by the demons.”

“At the time, I left my family in the refugee camp while I went into the city to find a merchant convoy.”

“When I came back…”

His face suddenly turned pale, as painful memories resurfaced. Agony filled his expression.

“My wife… and my children…”

“They had already been murdered by them…”