Chapter 54: Act 46 – Lv Up
The “Bronzesteeldragon Story Tavern” is a bar located on the street between Bonoan Market and the Traveler’s Bridge, operating all night long, catering to mercenaries, adventurers, and merchants selling goods of dubious origin.
If one can endure the chaotic atmosphere and crude slang of this place, it is actually a decent spot to have some fun, with cheap ale, scantily clad waitresses, and enough food to fill the stomach. You could drink here all night without spending much copper — you could even whistle freely without worrying about being thrown into the dungeon by the guards.
However, as Freya approached this den of iniquity, she couldn’t help but feel a bit apprehensive. The young girl gripped her longsword with both hands, her mind filled with the little tips Brendel had given her.
With her flushed face downcast, she cautiously moved through the crowd, feeling so frightened that even her ponytail drooped. Freya couldn’t help but think about what she would do if someone suddenly assaulted her. Should she chop off his hand with her sword? Or stab him with it?
She stole a glance at the scantily clad waitresses, her ears turning hot with the feeling that it was just outrageous! They had no shame at all!
Freya held her sword tightly as she reached the bar counter, where the plump tavern owner propped his chin up and sized her up from head to toe. “This is not a place for little girls like you,” he said.
Freya’s face turned bright red as she realized Brendel had tricked her. She bit her lip and tightened her grip on the sword, feeling too embarrassed to lose her temper in front of a stranger. But thinking back on her earlier behavior made Freya afraid to look up. “Um, I’m here to ask about someone…”
Retao looked at the girl before him, whose head was nearly down to the bar, and couldn’t help but chuckle. “The tavern sells information, but we’re not providing it for free, little girl!”
“I know, I’ll pay for it. Please tell me,” she insisted.
“Alright, who do you want to inquire about?”
“Hood, the textile merchant in Bonoan Market.”
“That guy? Are you a relative from the countryside?”
Freya hurriedly shook her head. “No, it’s just that someone commissioned me to deliver a letter to him.”
Retao shook his head, but just then, a group of guards hurriedly passed by outside. He keenly sensed that the girl in front of him had tensed up just a little. Having been a tavern owner for ten years, he was expert at reading people, and he immediately caught the unusual vibe from her.
Ironically, after the guards passed, one of them turned back and shouted, “Retao, by the way, have you seen any suspicious figures?”
Retao lowered his head and noticed the girl in front of him feigning calmness, though her fingers were clearly whitening from tension. He sighed and asked, “They’re looking for you, aren’t they?”
Freya flinched and instinctively pressed down on her sword hilt.
“Don’t be nervous; it’s just a professional habit.”
Freya was momentarily taken aback. In that moment, her thoughts flashed, and she impulsively said, “I…I have money. Can you help me hide?”
“One hundred Tor, do you have that much?” Retao chuckled. Mixed characters frequent this place, and hiding a fugitive is part and parcel for him, especially since he found the girl quite likable.
One hundred Tor is equivalent to a silver coin, and Freya quickly nodded.
When a few guards entered from outside, Retao conveniently hid Freya in a wooden barrel behind the bar. None of the patrons looked like they would stand up to identify her, and besides, every profession has its own rules; in a place like this, where all walks of life converge, their own set of laws exist.
This is what is known as the gray area. The city’s guards would come to the tavern to gather information, just as the illegal merchants and thieves would too. They were all aware of each other’s existence but would adhere to the rules and not tear each other apart face to face.
These were the rules of the game.
However, while Retao thought this, the naive Freya felt differently. Once she hid in the dark wooden barrel, she regretted it, chiding herself inwardly: “Freya, Freya, didn’t you think that someone might betray you? You really can’t do anything right; are you still the leader of the third squad of the Buche militia?”
She could hear the tavern owner chatting casually with the guards outside, and her nervousness was beyond words. She feared they would suddenly open the lid and drag her out; despite her verbal assurance, she knew what being caught would mean for her.
After a while, she heard someone knock from outside. “They have left; come out now.”
Only then did Freya open a crack in the barrel and see that there was indeed no one outside. She couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief but found that everyone in the tavern was looking at her with sly smiles, some even raising their glasses in her direction.
“Well done! The little girl dares to confront those guys from the army!”
“Come on, let’s have a toast!”
Freya felt her cheeks flush and turned to the tavern owner, saying, “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, it’ll be one hundred ten Tor in total,” the plump owner chuckled, waving for a girl dressed in simple leather and sporting a long braided hair to come over. “This is my daughter; she’ll take you to Hood’s place. By the way, little girl, let me give you some advice. Don’t go wandering around alone at this hour. Where are your companions?”
Freya couldn’t help but think of that guy Brendel. At that moment, she wanted to get angry but couldn’t muster up the spirit. She thought that Brendel must have let her come out on her own to toughen up, and reflecting on her previous behavior, all she felt was a deep sense of shame.
She tightened her grip on her sword.
“My name is Sue,” the girl said, looking at her and extending her hand. “I occasionally help my father run this place, but I’m free right now. Follow me.”
“Thank you. I’m Freya.”
“There are people taking advantage of the situation, Lord,” Charles said, staring at the flames of a distant tall building.
Brendel furrowed his brow, not expecting that there would be an outside force in the city besides the two factions. The fire at the noble’s parliament hadn’t helped him but instead caused him considerable trouble.
However, the timing was impeccable. He thought for a moment — the other party must be inside the know and at least aware that they had escaped from prison.
He recalled the situation at the time; it could very well have been one of the nobles that night. But who? What was their goal? Brendel shook his head, casting aside these disordered thoughts. Even though it was a bit unsatisfactory to be used, he was just an inconsequential character right now and had no qualifications to be unsatisfied.
“I hope it doesn’t cause too much trouble,” he said. “But we shouldn’t be affected. Since someone is helping, it’s even better. We just need to focus on our own business, right?”
“But you still haven’t answered, what are we going to do, Lord?” Charles asked.
“Someone borrowed a sword from me, and I certainly want to get it back,” Brendel said. He was well aware that King Obergo VII was not a generous person; he just didn’t know how close that so-called majesty’s confidant was.
“Who?”
“An earl.”
Charles chuckled, “I’ve never seen anyone more reckless than you, Lord. Do you really think the noose won’t fit around your neck?”
“If we’ve just escaped from the dungeons, we’re already facing the death penalty. In that case, why should we care whether the noose around our necks is one or two?” Brendel couldn’t help but laugh. To be honest, he was feeling quite nervous as well, but he found that his retainer was quite a humorous person.
“That’s true, but Lord, what do you plan to do?”
“I’ll charge in from the front; the more noise, the better.”
Charles couldn’t help but glance at Brendel. Although he was talking and laughing, there wasn’t a shred of color in his face, and his hands were pale, revealing his inner tension. Even so, he remained calm and composed, arranging his plans.
“What if you die?” Brendel thought for a moment and asked.
“If a card dies on the battlefield, I’ll end up in the graveyard. Until you have a way to fish me out, I’ll stay there,” Charles replied.
“Then I need to be more careful.”
As Brendel spoke, he estimated the time. After calculating how much time he had left, he raised his right hand and had a gargoyle grab hold of it—
Charles lifted his hand, too.
The two exchanged glances and nodded. The gargoyle quickly took to the sky, flying under the cover of night toward the little forest on the hillside within Ridenburg.
The wind whistled around their ears, and Charles couldn’t help but ask, “Lord, are you sure an earl would be temporarily residing in such a forest? And not in that castle behind you?”
He was referring to the castle located on the small island at the confluence of the Song River and the Weiss River.
“What did you say? The wind is too strong; I can’t hear you.”
“I said, Lord, are you flying in the wrong direction?”
“Me? Of course not! Did I say I was going to trouble that earl?”
“Then what are we doing?”
“Of course, we’re going to Lv Up! A craftsman must sharpen his tools before work, understand?”
“Lv Up? Is that some kind of ancient language?”
“Of course! Let me tell you, a game always has three metrics that are eternal: skill, equipment, and attributes.” Brendel shouted over the wind, “When you look at these three metrics, there’s always one that can help you. If you ever become a great mage one day, you’ll have to thank me for sharing this secret with you.”
“Game?”
“Life is like a game; a game is like life. Understand?”
“Somewhat. Lord, you are indeed unfathomable—” Charles replied, feeling cold in the night air, as if his hands and feet were about to freeze.
Brendel, however, kept his gaze fixed on that forest, thinking that he had at most fifteen minutes left.
Inside the Song Castle—
A middle-aged man sat on the sofa, studying the leaf-shaped sword for a while before setting it down. His expression remained unchanged, still wearing a stern look in front of others, though the coldness in his eyes was becoming more pronounced.
“What do you think?” a shadow behind him asked.
“This should be the sword. I don’t know how that young man got his hands on it. But in any case, he must disappear from this world. Those two women beside him are quite nice; I’m fond of them.”
“Having a small hobby isn’t a bad thing, but not letting it interfere with important matters is key.”
“If I don’t give them some hints, those shortsighted fools would never think of acting in my name. But the killings are on them, whether to please or flatter, no one would suspect us. We just need to make everything appear reasonable, as for personal reputation, when have we ever cared about that?”
A cold smirk appeared on the thin lips of the middle-aged man: “You said it yourself, having a small hobby isn’t a bad thing.”
The other man chuckled, returning his sight to the sword, “Did you discover any clues?”
The middle-aged man shook his head, “It’s not so easy.”
