When I returned to the inn, the owner was outside sweeping the entrance with a broom that resembled a bundle of twigs after splashing water on the ground.

"Well, he does clean occasionally," I thought, somewhat moved.

In this world, cleanliness should be the key to running a successful inn, but honestly, it wasn’t that clean. While the basic necessities were provided, the sheets weren’t exactly fresh. In fact, they were rather filthy. Maybe it was because there weren’t any washing machines here, so laundry seemed to be done infrequently.

The bed sheets, which were slightly dirty from the moment I first entered the room, hadn’t been changed once. I wasn’t sure if they cleaned while I was out, but I had never seen anyone sweeping or scrubbing the room. Naturally, the sheets hadn’t been washed either.

The food was delicious and plentiful, but if you asked about hygiene, I couldn’t say it was clean. I hadn’t thought too much about it before, but after traveling with the merchant caravan and eating their stew, I had gained a deeper understanding of what went into food preparation.

Perhaps the reason the stew at this inn was so delicious was because it was teeming with all sorts of bacteria.

Sigh.

I couldn’t dwell on that too much. If you want to survive in this world, you have to close one eye and install a blurry filter over the other. That’s the only way this world will appear beautiful and full of hope.

For a moment, I wondered about the dried jerky I had been treasuring like a sacred relic. Surely, while it was drying, it must have been swarmed with flies laying their eggs on it, and perhaps the storage was full of rats gnawing away at it too.

“….”

No, I can’t think about this. For the sake of my mental health, I’ll put a lid on it and lock it tight.

As I approached, the innkeeper smiled broadly.

“Oh, you’ve been to the guild?”

“Yes. Yesterday, it was too late to mention, but about the dragon-slaying squad—”

“Ah, I already know. Word spread that the guild submitted your application. Everyone’s been talking about it, since people are really interested in the dragon hunt,” the innkeeper said, nodding.

I had heard that the decision to form the dragon-slaying squad was made shortly after I left with the caravan. Apparently, everyone except me knew I was going to participate.

“Tonight’s special stew is on me! Be sure to come back here next time!” the innkeeper laughed heartily.

Sorry, but once I start making money, I’m staying somewhere else. Somewhere cleaner. Somewhere that offers hot baths every day.

I smiled politely, all the while thinking of a better, cleaner inn. But to stay at such a place long-term, I’d have to save up here for at least a year. That thought left me a bit downcast.

Just as the innkeeper promised, the stew that night was especially delicious.

The smelly guy wasn’t around today either, and the room felt like it was all mine. I flopped onto the bed, and Rella bounced back and forth between my belly and the mattress. Normally, I would’ve played with her, letting her practice jumping from higher places, but tonight I didn’t have the time. I needed sleep.

Tomorrow morning, I’d be setting off early. I had heard that the people participating in the dragon-slaying squad had already gathered at a nearby location. Aside from a few latecomers, I’d be one of the last to arrive.

Just as I closed my eyes, I heard a knock at the door.

Strange. No one comes looking for me. If anyone did, it would be the witch.

I slowly got up and walked toward the door, all the while hearing the soft, rhythmic knocking like someone was singing: knock-knock-knock, knock-knock.

Honestly, I can’t figure that witch out. I never know what she wants.

“What is it this time? Is it about that bard trying to kill me again?” I asked as I opened the door. The witch stepped inside, holding a small basket in her hands.

“That’s going well. Muel is still mustering his courage today. But that’s not why I’m here. I’ve come to offer you a witch’s blessing,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“A witch’s blessing?”

“You don’t know? It’s quite famous,” Dorthe tilted her head, puzzled by my ignorance. “Before people embark on dangerous journeys or long trips, they often visit a witch for a blessing. It’s a kind of superstition, a form of protection.”

She pulled a small pouch from her basket.

“Word’s been spreading that you’re joining the dragon-slaying squad. People at the guild have been talking about it nonstop. So, I prepared this for you. Normally, I’d charge for this, but today it’s free—consider it a favor repaid.”

She waved her hand dismissively, signaling me not to argue.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Well, there’s no harm in receiving a blessing, I thought. It was probably better to accept it and be done with it rather than having her follow me around, trying to repay a favor.

I stood still, and Dorthe took a deep breath before lightly tapping my body with the pouch.

“O traveler, poor soul who walks this world, may peace of the night and joy of the earth be with you on your journey. In the name of the witch, I command the spirits: Light this person’s path. Bring him safely to his family, to his friends, and to those he loves.”

A witch commanding spirits? That’s an odd spell.

Maybe witches are just seen as strange, mystical beings in this world. After tapping my body several times with the pouch, Dorthe glanced around as if looking for something—likely Rella.

Though I didn’t fully believe in these rituals, this was a world where magic existed. Perhaps it wasn’t complete superstition after all.

I raised my hand, and Rella jumped onto it. When I held her out, Dorthe repeated the same tapping ritual on Rella.

“O little bird, poor soul who walks this world, may peace of the night and joy of the earth be with you on your journey. In the name of the witch, I command the spirits: Light this little bird’s path. Bring her safely to her family, to her friends, and to those she loves.”

With that, Dorthe lifted her chin proudly.

“To be recognized as a true witch, you need to know this spell.”

“Then anyone can be a witch if they just learn it, right?”

I could easily memorize a spell like that. I asked her, curious, but Dorthe’s eyebrows shot up in mild offense.

“You’re wrong! It’s not about just reciting the words. When a true witch casts the spell, something imbues those words with power. Ordinary people won’t notice, but witches can sense it. If you cast a false spell and the person doesn’t react, it means they’re a fake witch.”

“So, it’s not just superstition then?” I mused.

Dorthe tilted her head thoughtfully. “Well, even if there’s some power in it, it’s not very strong.”

If that’s the case, maybe I didn’t really need this blessing after all.

She must have noticed my expression because she smirked.

“But this time, it’s different. The herbs in this pouch have the ability to deceive a dragon’s sense of smell.”

She handed me the pouch.

“This won’t protect you from a dragon, but it’ll help mask your scent if you need to get close. Take it with you.”

Oh, that’s useful. Jenny hadn’t mentioned anything about this.

Dorthe raised her head proudly again. “Most people wouldn’t know about it. But I’m a witch, so I do.”

It was hard to believe she was so much older than me. She looked like a little girl.

I bowed formally, as my father had taught me, with the grace of a noble.

“Thank you, my lady witch.”

“Stop teasing me,” Dorthe pouted, though she didn’t seem truly angry.

She then pulled a small jar from her basket.

“Could you catch your bird for me? I’ll rub some of the scent on her feathers to mask her smell as well.”

I gently cupped Rella in my hands as Dorthe dipped her fingers into the thick liquid and began rubbing it into Rella’s feathers.

“Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!” Rella squawked in protest, flapping her wings wildly.

“Hold her still, please,” Dorthe said, carefully applying the ointment to Rella’s wings, body, and even her belly.

“There’s a unique scent that phoenixes have, something we humans can’t detect. All creatures have a smell, and to a dragon, a phoenix—especially one as powerful as this—would be noticeable. Even though she’s young, the dragon might still sense her.”

Dorthe meticulously rubbed the liquid into Rella’s feathers, taking care to cover all the important areas. This was more than just repaying a small favor; she was going above and beyond. I felt a deep sense of gratitude.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely.

Dorthe blinked a few times, clearly flustered, before abruptly turning away.

“…I should get going now,” she muttered, her usual confidence giving way to a hint of shyness. It was strange—sometimes she was so bold, and other times, like now, she seemed embarrassed.

As she walked out the door, she called softly over her shoulder, “Be careful.”

“I will. Thank you, Lady Witch,” I replied.

Without another word, she closed the door and her footsteps faded away.

“Beep-beep-beep!” Rella was clearly upset, pecking at my hand angrily. Her beak was sharp, and it hurt.

“Come on, don’t be so mad. It’s for your own good.”

“Beep-beep-beep!”

She pecked at me for a while before flapping her wings and hopping away, bouncing around on the floor. Even after I lay down on the bed, she refused to come near me. It seemed she was really mad this time.

I chuckled softly and closed my eyes.

----------------------------------------

The dragon-slaying squad was gathered on a large plain near the city.

There were several large tents that reminded me of scenes from movies, along with countless wagons, carts, and horses. Huge cauldrons hung over makeshift hearths, with food cooking for the participants.

I had heard there were about seven hundred adventurers, but from the looks of it, there were easily three times that many people here.

“Impressive,” I said in awe.

The guild worker who had escorted me here smiled. “Is this your first time seeing something like this, Rafa? Most of these people won’t be going with the squad when it departs. They’re mostly support staff and guild employees.”

“So only the adventurers will head out?” I asked.

“Not exactly. We’ll need people to drive the wagons and carry supplies.”

So all those wagons and carts were coming too.

“This really is like something out of a movie,” I thought, feeling a rush of excitement. My heart raced with anticipation.

The guild worker chuckled at my enthusiasm. “There’s a village near the mountain where the dragon is. We’ll take the wagons there, and after that, the porters will carry the supplies.”

As we walked toward one of the tents, the guild worker greeted people with a nod or a wave. Most of the people weren’t adventurers—they were clearly guild staff. But as they noticed me, I saw mixed reactions. Some looked surprised, others frowned.

Just as Jenny had warned, there were plenty of people who didn’t like those from Enoerthos. Some glared at me with open hostility.

It seemed like this might be a tougher journey than I thought.

As I was mulling over that, a large man purposely bumped into me.

"Whoops!" he exclaimed theatrically, grabbing his shoulder as if in pain.

“What the hell? Thought this was a place for humans, not beasts. And this one just goes around knocking people over,” he sneered.

Though smaller than me, he was still bulky—his muscles seemed to bulge out to the sides unnaturally. He must’ve been confident in his physical strength because he showed no fear when looking at me.

I wrapped the wind around my arm.

“Hey, barbarian! Do you even understand—”

Before he could finish his sentence, I swung my fist. Crack. His nose crumpled with the sound of bones breaking, and his large body flew through the air, landing near the guild worker.

He didn’t even have time to scream before he hit the ground in a wide X shape. Out cold.

The bustling camp fell silent in an instant.

The guild worker looked down at the man sprawled out on the ground, then slowly turned to face me, his eyes wide.

“R-Rafa…”

“Sorry. There was a fly, and it wouldn’t stop buzzing around.”

“….”

My mother always told me: if someone messes with you, repay them tenfold.

The guild worker looked like he wanted to cry, but I couldn’t help it. The guy started it.

Just as the guild worker was about to speak, a loud voice rang out.

“You bastard! Who the hell just messed with our youngest?!”

Turning toward the voice, I saw three men walking toward me, each as large as the one I’d just knocked out.