As the sun reached its noontime apex, a hooded figure entered the town of Aureate Hill through its eastern gate. The figure spoke with the guard manning the entrance, a couple of silver coins exchanged hands, and the figure was waved through without further inspection or notice. The guard didn't even say a word about the pair of blood-red eyes he saw peering out from underneath that hood.
Blood River had acquired quite the harvest from the caravan. Besides edging his physique tempering to the peak of the first-grade Earth Realm, the wagons themselves held many useful wares. The most pleasant surprise among the lot was a low-grade storage pouch, a container with an inner space much more capacious than its exterior that could only be used by essence cultivators.
Using his new pouch, he was able to store a decent number of choice assets from the wagons, including a few changes of clothing as well as an assortment of armaments. River had not trained in weapons before due to a lack of opportunity, and so he had picked out a variety to try them out and see if any resonated with him.
Entering the town proper, River could not help but stop and look around at everything. Flowing Water was a backwater village attached to the small compound of the clan of the same name, but Aureate Hill was a trading hub for the region, a bustling town with many times the number of inhabitants and buildings.
"Don't gawk," Mister Black chided, "it'll make you stand out as a country yokel."
"Sorry," River apologized, blushing.
"It's fine. It's a good thing to broaden your horizons, but you must learn to measure your reactions," Mister Black lectured. "Whenever you enter a place like this, there will be some paying attention, and it is in your interest to give an air of experience whenever possible."
"So where to now?"
"That tall building ahead and to your left. That's the local tavern, a hotspot for activity. It's always a good thing when rejoining civilization to listen to the local gossip, and you're probably ready to eat anything remotely edible right now."
River could not help but agree with that assessment. The nourishing force of blood vitality was unparalleled in its efficacy, but it did not substitute for a full stomach. He did as Mister Black bade him to and entered the tavern.
The interior was a bit of a surprise to him; he had been inside the tavern at Flowing Water once or twice, and that place was a cramped, dark, and dusty place smelling of old ale and sweat. This tavern, in contrast, was immaculate and well lit, the scent in the air still mildly alcoholic but possessing a refinement to it, a sweetness unlike that of the drinks of the village's laborers.
A host greeted River and escorted him to a single-person booth in the corner of the first floor, supplying him with a menu. "Your server should be with you in a couple of minutes, sir," the man informed him and bowed before leaving.
"Corner booth, first floor," Mister Black mused out loud. "Pretty good for listening to general chatter."
"What about the other floors, Mister Black?" River asked, curious.
"Ah, those," Mister Black began, "those are for more important, more identifiable, and more regular guests. If you were planning to stay and operate out of here for a long while, it would be worth it to try and get the credentials to sit there. But you aren't, you have other places to be, and the conversations here ought to be informative enough to be worth your while."
River nodded and took a look at the menu. A faint ache pulsed in his glabella as he tried to read through it, but with some help from Mister Black he soon decided on what items to order. When the server -- a young black-haired lady in a fetching gown that left her jade-white arms and everything below her mid-thigh exposed -- arrived, he made a heroic effort not to stare too much while giving her his order.
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As he waited for the meal to arrive, he sat back and listened to the surroundings. With a physique in the Earth Realm, hearing and discerning conversations in a building of this size did not take any serious effort to do.
The content of the discussions was pretty mundane: some were talking about the current late summer weather, while others had conversations about the prices of produce and preparing for the autumn harvest. One young couple was excitedly discussing in hushed tones the anticipated arrival of some rare goods they wanted to look at from some group called the Balar Trading Company, whoever that was.
River's meal arrived, and he did his best to avoid inhaling the entire plate. He hadn't eaten solid food in over two weeks now, and it would be an extreme embarrassment if he wolfed down this meal and immediately hurled it back up from sheer excitement. Additionally, besides the rare festival, he had never eaten so well in his entire life, and so he tempered his urge to ravenously devour it all with the desire to savor every bite.
And so the young man sat and ate, listening to the idle conversation going on in the tavern around him. It wasn't until he was about finished that one conversation caught his attention.
"Hey, did you hear?" a man asked his friend, "I heard from some old trader that Flowing Water got wiped out completely."
"Flowing Water? That little village down south?" the friend replied.
"Yeah, that's the one," the man agreed. "Apparently the ruling clan down there got too big for their britches and raided the Dragon's Den's messenger post. Brave Dragon was livid and sent a hundred men to raze the whole village to the ground."
River's fist tightened as he heard the news, but he stopped eating and continued to listen.
"Man, that's rough," the friend replied to the man. "The Dragon's Den are pretty notorious, but they're usually pretty fair and even-handed in their relations with the local clans."
"Not that I can confirm this," and the man dropped his voice to a near whisper, "but the trader I talked to said something was going on with deviltry and blood rituals down there."
"Well, that'll explain it, all right," the friend chuckled. "Brave Dragon's a heavy-handed bully, but he does look out for us against the Unauthorized and any devils that come through the area."
River had heard enough. What remained of his appetite disappeared, and so he waved over a server and paid his bill in silver coins before bundling up and leaving the tavern.
"Upset?" Mister Black asked.
"No." River replied. "Yes. Maybe." He sighed. "It's not that Flowing Water was wiped out, Mister Black, or that I was responsible..."
"Oh?"
"...it's that I didn't get to do it with my own hands." River gritted his teeth, barely suppressing his rage. "Once again that bastard Brave Dragon steals what's mine from me! And then people, they're so blind..."
"Mortals are scared creatures, young man," Mister Black reassured him. "They flock to the banners of the strong seeking shelter from other strong folk and each other. The Dragon's Den is the devil they know."
"When I'm done with Brave Dragon, I'll be the devil they know!" River ground his teeth as he made his vow.
"Yes, well, but to do that you need to advance in your own strength," Mister Black reminded him. "And for that to happen, you need to acquire some targets. Perhaps we should head over to the bounty board and take a look."
River took a deep breath. "Yes, let's."
The hooded young man stomped his way through the packed dirt of the town streets and followed Mister Black's instructions to find the bounty board.
The bounty notice board was a giant slab of hardwood with engraved wooden slips nailed to it. These slips detailed the various tasks available to any who could perform them; some were about the collection and acquisition of specific rare resources, while the lion's share were bounties for beasts and people.
Of the people listed, over half of them were marked as "Unauthorized": these were individuals that had conducted illegal activities outside the auspices of the Dragon's Den. River considered whether he should hunt or befriend these individuals, but the majority of them had committed crimes that he decided were heinous enough on their own for him to punish them.
River consulted with Mister Black on the possible targets and settled on a handful to begin with. As the bounties were open to all to pursue without any sort of registration, there was nothing else in the town he needed to do at the moment. Ransacking the caravan had netted him ample supplies, he'd already had a good meal, and it was far too early in the day to consider heading to an inn to sleep.
Lacking other options, River decided he might as well get started on the bounties. Turning from the board, he made his way to the nearest gate of the town and set off in the afternoon heat to cross the grasslands in pursuit of new prey.
Inside the bounty office, a woman sat with a journal scribbling away. There were all sorts of people who came across the board and ended up doing nothing, but years of working here had honed her instincts. She was very confident that the hooded youth would be back soon enough. And she would make sure to be there to make her recruiting pitch.