Chapter 1044 - 864: Village (2)

The few adult men beside him also tightened their grip on their woodcutters and shovels. Though they didn’t rush forward immediately, their positioning had subtly formed a semi-circular defensive formation.

The long-legged girl stood up from the ground, still clutching a handful of freshly picked herbs in her hand, and curiously but nervously gazed in Duke’s direction.

Duke stopped about seven or eight steps away from them, not moving closer, and spread his hands in front of him to indicate he wasn’t carrying any weapons.

Then he let out the most gentle smile possible, and asked a few simple words in the local language he had just learned. Clumsily, he explained his rough situation; that he was lost and wanted to leave the forest.

Though his pronunciation was not yet perfect, it was good enough for the people opposite him to understand his meaning.

The strong man did not lower his axe, and asked in a rough voice using the local language: where Duke came from, and why he appeared alone in the woods.

Duke pointed to the dense forest behind him and explained he was a traveler who had encountered a beast on the road, and in panic ran into the forest and couldn’t find his way out.

The story was part truth and part fabrication, but he said it naturally, along with his slightly embarrassed look, it was plausible enough.

The strong man was skeptical but pointed ahead with his axe, clumsily saying to follow the trail straight out, and then looked away, clearly hoping this foreign traveler would leave soon.

At that moment, the long-legged girl suddenly tugged on the strong man’s sleeve and whispered a few words.

Her voice was very light, but Duke’s ears caught it distinctly.

She said the traveler didn’t look like a bad person, and it was too dangerous to walk in the forest alone with night approaching. If he encountered patrolling Ash Giants or a solitary Shadow Beast, it would be trouble. It was better to let him come along with them.

The strong man frowned, glanced back at the girl, hesitated for a few moments, then heavily snorted through his nose, turned his head and nodded towards Duke, saying he could follow them but must not get too close. He would keep an eye on him, and if Duke dared to have any improper intentions, the axe in his hand would show no mercy.

Duke nodded, intuitively retreating to the back of the group, keeping a few paces away from the young villager responsible for rearguard.

The strong man glared at him again, then turned around to lead the group, picking up the bundle of firewood and heading forward along the path.

Duke followed at the back of the villager group, walking down the forest path, worn smooth and sturdy by repeated treading, for nearly two hours.

The iron-gray ancient trees gradually became sparse, the canopy overhead no longer impenetrable, letting more sunlight filter through the leaves, spreading patches of pale golden light on the ground.

The smell of humus mixed with sweet resin in the air was gradually replaced by another more expansive, drier scent.

It was the smell of sun-dried straw, the dust rising from dirt paths, and the faint smoke drifting in from afar.

The moment they stepped out of the forest edge, the view opened up wide.

Before them lay a valley embraced by low hills, where wheat fields spread across gently sloping terrain, wheatears whispering softly in the breeze. Several winding dirt roads stretched from the forest edge through the wheat fields, converging at a small village at the center of the valley.

The village was small, with about a few dozen homes made of rough gray stone and thick straw-roofed houses.

A stone well stood at the village entrance, with a worn hemp rope coiling around the cranks.

A few grayish chickens pecked along the dirt roads, while a creature resembling a yellow cow was tethered under an old tree by the village entrance, leisurely munching on straw.

Smoke gently rose from several chimneys, drawing fine white lines in the twilight air.

As Duke followed the group into the village entrance, several children playing by the well stopped their games.

They turned their heads in unison, staring at Duke with wide eyes, their gaze exhibiting both undisguised curiosity and a timid wariness.

A barefoot little boy tugged at the clothes of a nearby woman, lowered his voice, and said something in the native language which Duke clearly heard.

He said, "Mama, that person is short."

The woman quickly covered his mouth, casting an embarrassed glance in Duke’s direction.

The long-legged girl in the team couldn’t help but laugh, quickly pursing her lips.

Duke simply smiled slightly, not taking it to heart.

His height of one meter ninety was already considered tall among the ordinary people of the Wizard Plane, but among these Elderlands natives whose average height exceeded two meters, he indeed appeared as short.

The strong man stopped at the village entrance, dropped the bundle of firewood by the well, turned his head and nodded towards Duke, "Follow me, I’ll take you to see the village chief."

His tone was still gruff, but slightly softer than it had been in the forest.

Duke nodded, quietly following behind, walking through the village along a well-trodden and smoothly paved dirt road, heading towards the deepest part of the village.

The stone house of the village chief was slightly larger than a few nearby buildings but just as humble.

The strong man stopped at the door, placed his axe against the door frame, and pushed the door open for Duke to enter first.

The room was dimly lit, and an elderly man with white hair and beard sat by a wooden table repairing a broken woven rattan basket.

He raised his head at the sound of footsteps, his cloudy eyes lingering on Duke for a moment, before slowly setting aside his work and casting an inquisitive glance at the strong man.

The strong man stepped beside the old man, bent over, and whispered a few words, explaining the foreigner had lost his way in the forest, and they encountered him and brought him back to inquire about his origin.

The old man nodded after listening, once more looking at Duke, and then began to speak.

His voice was aged but clear, his pace slower than the strong man’s, apparently making it easier for Duke to understand.

Duke answered rigidly in the newly learned local dialect, saying he was a traveler from afar, lost in the forest, and inquired where they were and if there were any towns nearby.

The old man did not reply immediately; instead, his eyes deeply engraved within the wrinkles simply observed Duke quietly, perhaps intending to discern something from this self-proclaimed lost foreign traveler.

Ultimately, he nodded slowly and said, "This is Count Cadwell’s domain, part of the Osseron Kingdom. The nearest town is about several days eastward. Nights are dangerous. You should rest here tonight."

Within Duke’s heart, a thought stirred.

Osseron Kingdom—that name had appeared in Vera’s intelligence, located in the northwest of the Elderlands, having many wild regions not yet fully explored by the Wizard Council.

Duke subtly continued to ask the village chief about several surrounding place names and lord matters, and the old man answered each one. The information aligned closely with the reports Duke possessed.

As dusk fell outside, the chickens had already returned to their coops, and the cow had been brought into its shelter.

The strong man remained standing by the door, arms crossed over his chest. Every time Duke posed a question, he would furrow his brow slightly but remained silent throughout.

Having finished naming the last location, the village chief steadied himself using the table, slowly stood up, and walked towards a simple stove at the corner, lifting the pot lid to look at the steamy pot of gruel, then called out through the door.

The long-legged girl Duke had seen in the forest appeared from the inner room, carrying a small jar of salt.

The village chief collected a string of preserved meat from the wall, its pieces darkened and scarce, evidently reserved for special occasions.

The girl glanced at her father, then at Duke, her lips forming a slight curve, took the preserved meat, and turned to slice it at the stove.

A short while later, the girl placed a bowl of porridge and a small dish of very thinly sliced preserved meat before Duke.

The porridge was made from mixed grains, coarse in texture but steaming hot; the preserved meat, though only thin slices, was the best the household could offer.