Chapter 154 Don't Stare!

White Chickadee Tavern, private room.

The light, sweet, and cool scent of mint intertwined with the hot aroma of the food, drifting lazily through the air.

Illuminated by the crystal chandelier, the dark, matte floorboards revealed a fine, irregular grain—premium oak timber from the depths of the Misty Forest.

Delicate, soft velvet cushions lined every seat around the table, and the flawless silver tableware reflected an expensive sheen.

If not for the faint hum of white noise seeping through the cracks of the door—all that remained of the main hall's clamor after heavy soundproofing—it would be hard to associate this luxurious, extravagant room with the name "White Chickadee Tavern."

The difference between the inside and the outside was like a high-end restaurant compared to a roadside food stall. Once the wooden door closed, they were two completely different worlds.

In truth, it wasn't all that surprising.

Situated in a prime location next to the Adventurers' Association, the White Chickadee Tavern catered mostly to bottom-tier adventurers, but it also saw frequent patronage from rather formidable high-level Class Holders.

For these veteran adventurers, a single piece of equipment could equal a commoner's earnings over decades. Even if many of them didn't mind grabbing a seat in the main hall, ordering a few beers, and chatting casually with a drunk dwarf at the next table, they were still Class Holders walking the path toward the Transcendent Tier. A casual boast tossed out among party members could be valuable intelligence that ordinary adventurers would normally pay for. When necessary, they needed a quiet, undisturbed place to discuss matters unfit for public ears.

Under these circumstances, facing these generous, wealthy "big clients," the traditionally shrewd and experienced tavern owner, Chapton, naturally wouldn't let these gleaming gold coins slip through his fingers.

Unlike the main hall, where a classic meal with drinks "only" cost a few silver coins, a private room of this caliber required gold coins just to cover the booking fee.

The menu inside was also specially tailored. The flavor might have only been about twenty percent better, but the flamboyance of the dish names and their prices were nearly a dozen times higher than out in the hall.

Even so, despite knowing the tricks involved, these few high-end private rooms tucked into the corners of the tavern's hall maintained an incredibly high occupancy rate.

One had to admit, once a person's net worth swelled to a certain point—especially for adventurers walking a tightrope of life and death—one silver coin and one gold coin, or even ten silver and ten gold, made no difference in their eyes.

Having worked in the adventurer trade for so many years, everyone knew that retiring peacefully was actually quite simple, provided you were willing to give up everything you currently possessed.

But as long as you kept at it, who could guarantee they'd be able to spend all their hard-earned savings before they died?

Cornell understood this principle perfectly.

Thus, during the rest periods between quests, he was never stingy with the gold coins in his pocket.

"Clang!"

Metal plates holding nothing but food scraps were stacked high, and the table was covered with a variety of high-calorie foods.

The burly human warrior with short red hair still wore his heavy armor, making the wooden chair beneath him creak under his weight.

He didn't make a sound, merely focusing on clearing plate after plate of food in front of him.

Beef stew, roast chicken, and even half a plump lamb sprinkled with spices...

He refused nothing, swallowing every bit of food placed before him.

It was as if a giant ogre were hiding beneath that human skin.

In contrast, Cornell's side of the table only held an exquisitely plated dish of roasted goose breast, a few honey-soaked walnut rolls stacked beside it, and a small cup of the tea he had brought himself.

"Clink..."

The silver spoon stirred at an even pace, clinking softly and crisply against the side of the cup.

Deep within the clear tea, which swirled in a miniature vortex, several slender, oval leaves the size of fingernails could faintly be seen bobbing up and down, lending a touch of natural fragrance to the steam rising from the rim.

Condensed Emerald Leaf, a specialty from the Verdant Forest near the elven royal city of Ivelius.

It was famous for accelerating mental recovery.

It even offered slight detoxifying properties.

Unfortunately, due to its harsh growth requirements, it was extremely difficult to cultivate in other regions. One could only purchase it from the local wood elves near the Verdant Forest.

"That kid lied to me before, saying he'd drunk it all. I knew he had a stash."

"Tsk, look at this huge bag."

"If I wasn't so meticulous and didn't think to 'help' him organize his backpack, I really wouldn't have found it."

Cornell picked up his teacup and took a comfortable sip.

A gentle breeze surged out of nowhere around him—the soft flow of invisible magic particles.

"His corpse takes up so much space in my ring. It shouldn't be too much to collect a little 'rent,' right?"

Silence.

It was unclear whether the human warrior across the table was too engrossed in his food to hear, or if he heard but just didn't want to speak.

The only response the mage received was a series of chewing and swallowing sounds.

Already used to it, and not expecting much of a reaction anyway, Cornell set down his teacup and said slowly, "The expenses for this quest were way too high. The reward was so meager, and we still have to split it three ways. If you factor in the cost of resurrecting that guy in a few days, we're taking an absolute loss."

"I'm still negotiating with the Association. It'll probably drag on for a few days, and I don't know if they'll compensate us with any gold, but..."

Cornell sighed and shook his head. "Well, it's not looking very hopeful."

There was no doubt that the danger level of the Goblin Lair they had cleared out far exceeded the preliminary information the Association had provided.

But after communicating with the relevant staff over the past few days, the information given back then had indeed been somewhat ambiguous. Even if he kept making a fuss, it would likely just end in failure, pointlessly wasting his time and energy.

Besides, their squad wasn't an official team of the Adventurers' Association. Both he and the human warrior across from him were unbound freelance members, and their personal strength hadn't yet reached the Transcendent Tier.

There wouldn't be any special treatment.

Cornell could only swallow this silent loss.

"Luckily, I have an acquaintance in Nym. We should be able to save some money."

"You know how it is. Most resurrection spells have a ton of restrictions, and the longer the time since death, the higher the cost."

"Setting up the ritual will take another couple of weeks. If we really waited until I got back to Chromatic Ring City to resurrect him... this kid would probably have to mortgage his hometown's ancestral elf tree to pay me back."

With the blond elf's corpse still lying in his ring, Cornell joked about a topic that would normally make the guy jump with rage at just a passing mention.

"By the way, do you want to come to Nym with me? We could..."

Halfway through his sentence, Cornell seemed to suddenly remember something and slapped his forehead. "Look at me, forgetting again."

"The Land of Molten Wood, right? You really are just one step away from the Transcendent Tier. I've heard the trial there isn't simple, though, so you'd better be careful."

"If you fail... you can't be resurrected."

The warrior remained silent, his head buried deep in his plate.

"Speaking of which, I still find it strange."

Cornell frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on the plate in front of him.

There, a translucent hand floating in the air like a ghost was holding a table knife, helping him slice the goose breast into thin pieces and dip them in the sauce.

"That lair, that goblin cleric... none of it felt right. There was an indescribable strangeness to it."

"Oh, and that silver-white metal device."

"I've never seen a special item like that which can manipulate gravity without invoking magic particles."

"At first, I thought it might be some high-level Magic Equipment they looted from somewhere, but thinking about it now, it seems more like something created by the gnomes."

"Once I return to Chromatic Ring City, I'll ask my mentor about it in detail."

"If possible..." Speaking up to this point, a rare hint of hesitation appeared on Cornell's face. "When you get back, please mention the situation to Master Yang Ci."

His dark red longsword leaned quietly against the edge of the table. The heavy-armored, red-haired warrior didn't speak, still chewing and swallowing just as before.

But his head nodded imperceptibly.

Seeing this, Cornell couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, a relaxed expression reappearing on his face.

"Volga's tribe is probably already aware of his death. If I go over there again, those old men with totems tattooed all the way down their nether regions will probably come looking for trouble."

"Do you have any suitable candidates on your end? They don't need to be too strong—Class Level 5 or above is fine, just someone to act as a temporary replacement."

Silence.

"Fine..."

...

...

Five days later.

Rivervale Town, relay station.

Bordering the Misty Forest, it was the only town in the surrounding region where the Adventurers' Association was stationed.

The relay station in Rivervale Town was always bustling with activity; it was crowded and teeming with a steady stream of carriages and merchant caravans.

As it was just a few days after the end of the Hunting Day, there were exceptionally more travelers passing through the station.

Judging by their attire, the vast majority of them were adventurers.

During the Hunting Day, goblins appeared in dense numbers, and the bounty was raised to 5 silver coins per head.

For many people, fighting hard during this period was enough to earn a very decent income.

Consequently, this attracted many adventurers from neighboring villages and towns to come panning for gold.

Don't be fooled by their fierce, murderous looks right now. In reality, many of them were in a semi-retired state. On an ordinary day, they might be the amiable bakery owner down the street who smiled at everyone, or the security guard who loved to doze off in front of a small local bank.

Only during the Hunting Day would they transform again, taking off their uniforms and picking up their weapons to earn some extra cash in Rivervale Town.

Now that the Hunting Day had ended, they were gradually leaving Rivervale Town and returning to their original lives.

"Cousin, slow down, I can't keep up."

Jimmy's face was covered in sweat as he shuttled through the crowd, both hands clutching his wallet.

Jogging, he craned his neck to look ahead, but could only catch a glimpse of his older cousin's back.

"Hurry, hurry! Don't waste time. If we miss the carriage, I'm not waiting for you!"

Hearing his older cousin say this, he could only force his sore legs to move and quicken his pace.

But he couldn't go much faster anyway.

After all, everyone around them looked like a veteran adventurer. If he accidentally bumped into someone and offended them, it would be a huge problem.

Fortunately, the relay station itself wasn't too large. Although they wound through the crowd for quite a while, the two managed to arrive before the caravan departed.

Watching his older cousin hand a few copper coins to the caravan leader with a sycophantic expression, the sweat-drenched Jimmy, who had just caught his breath, couldn't help but complain in a low voice, "Cousin, we're just taking a carriage. Is it really necessary to act like that?"

"What do you know!" Returning to his side, his older cousin, who had just been wearing a fawning smile, instantly put on a stern face and scolded, "Do you know how hard it is to find a caravan these past two days?"

"And we're heading to Nym! If your older cousin here didn't have some connections, you'd be stuck in Rivervale Town for another two months!"

Hearing him say this, Jimmy couldn't help but curl his lip.

After spending the past few days together, he had gradually become familiar with his older cousin's personality.

Putting aside how he did things, when it came to his words... it was best to only believe half of them.

Looking at the crowds passing back and forth, Jimmy stood in place, waiting for the caravan to depart.

His right hand, however, subconsciously touched the one-handed sword at his waist—a recent purchase that hadn't even slashed a single goblin yet.

He quietly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the bundle his older cousin had tied tightly to his chest.

His mind couldn't help but recall the scene from five days ago.

He remembered that the two of them had just finished lunch at the White Chickadee Tavern. His older cousin said he was going to take him to an apothecary named "Verdant Crucible" to buy some cheap healing salves.

Unexpectedly, they happened to run into an adventurer causing trouble.

Blocked by the crowd outside, he couldn't see the specific details of what happened.

By the time he reacted, that middle-aged adventurer was already lying motionless on the ground.

And his older cousin, who had suddenly disappeared earlier, returned to his side with an excited look on his face.

In his hands was an extra, bloodstained bundle.

He had probably looted it off the dead man during the chaos.

Jimmy's older cousin had shown it to him. There wasn't much inside the bundle.

A few spare shirts, three silver coins, and a strange, palm-sized statue.

His older cousin said he had once seen a similar design at the "Fey Wind," and it was worth dozens of gold coins!

Worried that the item was dirty and afraid someone would catch them with it, he thought about taking it to Nym to pawn it off at a black market shop he knew.

At the time, Jimmy had actually been a little worried, feeling that doing something like this wasn't very good.

After all, the adventurers in his imagination should be fighting monsters to the death in the forest during the day, and drinking and boasting in the tavern at night, living very carefree lives.

Regarding his thoughts, his older cousin merely examined the statue in his hands and sneered. "Adventurers... did you think they were noble?"

"It's just making money. Every line of work is the same."

Those were his exact words.

After that, Jimmy didn't say anything more. He just ignorantly followed the other party, gathering information and looking for connections all the way until now.

'Nym... come to think of it, I've never been there before. I wonder...'

Amidst his thoughts, Jimmy was suddenly taken aback.

He saw that the caravan leader—who had just been acting arrogant and clearly looking down on his older cousin—was now bowing his back with a fawning smile, taking the initiative to welcome someone. He walked toward a fully armed, black-haired young man with two longswords on his back...

"Greysword?"

Jimmy remembered the other party's title; his older cousin had introduced him five days ago.

Right now, compared to the time they ran into him at the tavern, the man held an extra silver coin in his hand.

It was rising and falling in his palm, being tossed up and down.

Suddenly, something felt strange.

The speed at which the silver coin rose and fell seemed to be...

"Smack!"

The back of his head was suddenly slapped, and his older cousin's low shout rang in his ears, "How many times have I told you?"

"Don't stare!"