Chapter 617: Some Old story of the village?

“One more ale.” Amon ordered to the man at counter.

“Sure, young man. Give me a minute.”

The bartender, a tall, elderly man with white hair, turned around to prepare the drink.

Amon sat at the tavern counter, beside another old man whose black hair was beginning to turn gray, showing that he was slowly catching up with his age.

His cheeks were flushed, and the way he swayed slightly in his seat made it obvious that he was already drunk.

“Hey, old man. You from this village?”

The old man, who had been enjoying his drink, suddenly frowned.

Bang!

He slammed his wooden mug onto the counter and turned toward Amon. “You! You dare call me an old man?!”

“Well, yeah. I mean… aren’t you old?” Amon replied.

“Dammit! Young men these days sure are direct.” He sighed and looked forward again. “Yes. This once-handsome man, who was chased by countless young women in his prime, is now an old man.”

He puffed out his chest proudly. “And yes, I’m from Leonera Village. The name’s Bran.”

He glanced at Amon again. “But you don’t look like someone from around here. Who are you, young man?”

“Haha, I’m an adventurer who travels around the world. My name is Daemon.”

“An adventurer? And you’re young too…” Bran shook his head in amazement. “Damn, it must be amazing to travel around, visit different cities, meet beautiful women, and have a good time. Haha! I used to do that back in my younger days.”

“Hehe. Sounds like you had quite a fun life.”

“Of course!” Bran’s eyes sparkled with nostalgia. “I may have spent most of my life in this village, but the nearby cities were places my friends and I often visited when we were young. Especially for—”

Amon didn’t let him finish. “For women. Of course. That’s what men seek.”

Just then, the bartender returned with a wooden mug filled with ale and placed it in front of Amon.

“Your order.”

“Thanks.”

Amon grabbed the handle of the mug.

Bran suddenly slapped Amon loudly on the shoulder. “That’s right! You’re a man, so you understand!”

He leaned closer to Amon and lowered his voice. “You know, that waitress over there might let you spend the night with her if you act sweet and pay her well.”

Amon forced a smile.

“I would’ve liked that, but for now, I just want to rest.” He took a sip of his ale before casually looking around the tavern.

“But you know, I’m curious about this village. It’s beautiful, and it looks quite old.” Amon spoke about the village, showing his interest in it.

“Yes. Our Leonera Village is hundreds of years old.” Bran’s expression softened as he gazed into the distance, seemingly remembering his younger days.

“So this village must have some damn amazing history, right?” Amon leaned slightly toward him. “You know, most rural areas have some dangerous or horrifying stories they’re famous for.”

Bran suddenly fell silent. He seemed to think deeply about Amon’s words before lowering his voice and leaning closer.

“You see…” His expression became unusually serious. “Our village was once cursed by a witch nearly 108 years ago.”

Amon’s attention immediately sharpened. “A witch?”

“Yeah. It happened even before I was born.”

“What kind of curse?” Amon eagerly asked.

“There was a woman living here. She was a newcomer, and the villagers welcomed her warmly. Back then, this place wasn’t nearly as large as it is now.”

Bran took another drink. “Everything seemed fine at first. The woman was friendly and kind to everyone.”

His voice gradually became quieter. “But then… strange things started happening around the village.”

“Such as?”

“Goats, cattle, and dogs began disappearing.” Bran glanced around before continuing. “At first, people thought someone was stealing them. But then things became much more serious when children started disappearing too.”

Amon’s expression became more serious.

“Later, everyone discovered that the woman was responsible. She had been taking the animals and children for her witchcraft… sacrificing them for her rituals.”

Bran’s fingers tightened around his mug. “The villagers, with the help of the priest at the time, eventually captured her.”

He paused. “And then they burned her alive at the stake in the village square.”

“And what happened next?”

“The woman laughed while she burned.”

Bran’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“She cursed the village, saying that she would not be the last one. She claimed that more witches would be born here in the future and that one day, they would destroy the entire village.”

Amon’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So… did that curse actually exist?”

He paused. “Did this village ever have another witch?”

“Ye—”

“Oh, old man! Stop telling that foolish story.”

The bartender interrupted them, placing his hands on his waist as he sighed.

Bran immediately glared at him.

“Hey! That’s not a foolish story! It really happened!”

“Yes, it happened.”

The bartender shook his head.

“But there’s no damn curse on our village. Don’t make our guest think this is some cursed village with witches running around.”

That caught Amon’s attention.

Bran clicked his tongue.

“Tch!”

He grabbed his wooden mug and shook his head.

“Fine, fine. I won’t say anything more. You ruined my mood.”

He stood up and pulled a few copper coins from his pocket, placing them on the counter.

Then he turned toward Amon.

“Young lad, I’m heading out. Time to see if I can find someone to warm my bed tonight.” He gave Amon a mischievous grin. “Hehe… maybe some married woman.”

Amon chuckled. “Sure. Thanks for the story.”

“No worries. See you around.” Bran walked away, leaving the tavern. The bartender sighed tiredly before looking at Amon.

“Young man, don’t think too much about that story. It’s been over a hundred years since that incident, and no one believes in that curse anymore.”

“Haha, I know, I know.”

Amon took another sip of his ale.

‘So… a witch, a curse, and women supposedly being born as witches in this village.’ His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Okay. I should tell Arnold about this.’