Felix gently caressed the vine wood magic staff in his hands, his snow-white hair fluttering in the wind. He closed his eyes, trying to feel the elemental forces of magic in the air.
“Wind of Nature, I call upon you.”
No response.
“Force of the Earth, I summon you in the name of Felix…”
Still no response.
Felix shook his head, feeling powerless as he put down the staff. He couldn't sense even a trace of the natural elements spoken of by mages.
“Could a Gamma Master be a close-combat profession?” he wondered.
He drew the dagger from his waist and made a few swipes through the air. He wasn't accustomed to daggers; if anything, he preferred single-handed swords, about a meter and twenty centimeters in length. Although he could easily wield two-handed swords, they didn’t provide the same natural fluidity.
“If I were a warrior in my past, then I must have used a single-handed sword.”
“The Shadow Queen?” Felix tied up his flowing white hair with a string, pondering. His white hair, unique to all races, whether human or elf, usually signified the passage of long years.
Felix felt he was not old, lacking the profound feeling of age that comes from the soul, a mark that even amnesia couldn't erase.
“Is the Shadow Queen a monarch of a nation? A ruler of a race? Or a deity revered by a certain profession?” Felix murmured, touching the rough vine wood staff, “My soul belongs to the Shadow Queen. A Gamma Master will never betray his oath.”
Sword. Blood. A woman's face.
Felix placed his pale hands over the scar on his chest, a mark that even the waters of Lunawell couldn't erase. What kind of extraordinary sword, and who was the person, that could wound him so?
The sound of galloping hooves broke his contemplation.
Leaping off the rooftop, Felix lightly touched the tip of a laurus nobilis, soaring through the air like a large bird, towards the street outside. His strength and agility were exceptional; even the finest rangers of Snowdrift Hollow couldn't match his physical prowess.
Adventurers!
The street was filled with dust and noise. Sixteen majestic horses, ridden by adventurers in dark grey cloaks marked with a broken sword, indicated a team of adventurers. Their clothes were stained with fresh blood, the scent of death still lingering.
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“Clang!”
Felix's leap from the rooftop alerted the adventurers. As metallic sounds echoed, the adventurers drew their swords, warily eyeing Felix as he landed.
“Oath of the Shattered Blade people! What are they doing here?” Odynman's voice came from beside Felix. Spitting on the ground, he said gravely, “They are despicable looters, no different from filthy bandits!”
“Their existence insults the sacred adventure, tarnishing the honor of warriors!” Odynman glared at the leading adventurer, his beard bristling with anger.
After relinquishing his griffin knight status, this hot-tempered dwarf had roamed the continent for over thirty years, boasting of ventures to the Great Snow Mountains and sighting blue dragons in the sky.
The lead adventurer, with his grey-white eyes, coldly watched Felix and the dwarf. Once assured they posed no threat, he sheathed his sword and led the adventurers into the Snowcharm inn, apparently planning to stay.
“Be wary of them. They are filled with greed and filth,” the bearded dwarf turned to Felix, speaking solemnly.
Felix nodded, his gaze fixed on the last adventurer entering the inn. Intuition told him that man was dangerous, perhaps not even human—a peculiar sensation.
Even though he couldn't clearly see the adventurer's face, he could feel a strong dark aura emanating from him.
The arrival of Oath of the Shattered Blade added a layer of tension to Snowdrift Hollow. Felix, aware of the potential danger, remained on high alert.
Snowdrift Hollow was a very peaceful town, lacking the sort of treasures that would allure adventurers.
Apart from the scenery that presented itself every three years, few adventurers visited. Felix had been there for a month, and the most he had seen were passing merchants. This was the first time he encountered such bloodthirsty killers.
His intuition told him something ominous was about to happen.
Following the adventurers into the Snowcharm inn, Felix entered and immediately caught their attention. They sat in a corner of the inn, swords in hand, vigilantly observing their surroundings.
Ignoring the adventurers' unfriendly stares, Felix walked straight to the counter, took the food from the waitress, and headed towards where the adventurers were seated.
Besides Felix, Snowcharm had a cook and three waitresses, all human. About 70% of Snowdrift Hollow's population consisted of humans who had moved there to escape war, and they were ordinary people.
"Your skills are quite impressive," said the leading adventurer, lifting his cup and scrutinizing Felix with interest. His voice was hoarse and deep, emanating a chilling tone that instinctively made one feel repulsed.
Not human!
Or, he was no longer purely human.
Hearing the adventurer's voice, Felix could tell he was not a true human anymore. This world had many who fell from grace in their quest for power, and clearly, this adventurer leader was one of them.
After setting down the food, Felix nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
"Are you the owner of this inn?" the adventurer asked, removing his cloak to reveal a somewhat sinister face with a scar across his neck.
Felix shook his head and replied simply, "I'm just a waiter."
The adventurer's expression turned playful upon hearing Felix's response. "To afford a waiter like you, your boss must be quite extraordinary," he said in his low, hoarse voice.
Felix didn't respond. After preparing the food for the adventurers, he asked, "Anything else you need?"
"Alcohol. Fruit wine," replied the adventurer leader, looking at the crisp, soft bread with a hint of disdain. "I've heard for a long time that the fruit wine here is quite special."
Felix nodded and turned to head back to the counter.
The adventurer leader's hands were very pale, his nails sharp and shimmering with a dark gleam.