Day 92: Lassie Town (Outskirts)
The journey to the nearby stream was filled with a sense of relief and triumph. Despite the exhaustion from the intense battle with the Wyrm, everyone’s spirits were high. The surrounding forest glimmered softly under the rising moonlight, the occasional chirp of crickets filling the silence. Chanty led the way, her gait relaxed as she hummed a soft tune, while Jason walked beside her, his [Ki Grid] spread out and sensing any movement around them.
When they reached the stream, Terry and Rooney immediately set about arranging the ki-powered lanterns, their faint hum adding to the serene atmosphere. The soft, white light created a safe perimeter, casting long shadows that danced across the trees.
Alisa unpacked her portable shower frame and curtain she pulled out of her Mindscape. This earned an impressed whistle from Jason, who then turned to Chanty as he wondered why a veteran like her didn't have something like this, but preferred to bathe the old-fashioned way. Not that he was complaining.
The frame, made of lightweight yet sturdy material, was assembled quickly. A small water reservoir attached to it used a simple ki-infused mechanism to heat and pump water, ensuring a warm, pressurized shower even in the middle of nowhere.
“The boys can keep watch while we go first,” Alisa said, motioning for Karen and Chanty to follow her behind the curtain.
Jason nodded. “You got it.”
While the girls disappeared behind the curtain, the sound of rushing water and muffled voices drifted toward the boys. Rooney leaned against a tree, his javelin resting at his side, while Terry paced near the stream, occasionally throwing rocks into the water. Jason sat cross-legged on a boulder, his bow across his lap, his mind half-focused on the surroundings and half on fighting his temptation to grid the naked bodies of the two girls. 'Sometimes, I gross myself out. My power is corrupting me. I need to get laid soon and purge myself of this Incel nature.' Jason chastises himself mentally.
When it was the boys’ turn, the roles were reversed. Alisa, Karen, and Chanty took up the watch, their laughter and teasing remarks filling the air as they joked about the boys taking too long. By the time everyone had cleaned up, the group felt refreshed and energized, their earlier exhaustion replaced by a sense of camaraderie.
As night deepened, they set up camp beside the stream. Tents were pitched in a loose circle around a central fire pit. Jason and Karen took charge of cooking, their movements efficient as they worked over a portable grill powered by small ki stones. The meat from the Hazard Beasts they had hunted earlier sizzled and crackled, its aroma filling the air and making everyone’s mouths water.
“Wow! This tastes wonderful. You're such a great cook, Jason.” Karen said, her eyes gleaming as she eats a slab of Short-Faced Bear meat.
Jason tries to downplay her praise. “I just follow the instructions to the letter. Besides, you did half the work.”
Rooney shook his head. “No need to be so modest. You added quite a bit of herbs from the area, and they really brought out the flavor in the food. I've had a lot of Karen's cooking, and they're not on this level… No offense, sis."
Karen eyebrow was twitching, but she let it slide, as Terry chimes in. "Food aside, I still can't believe we took down a Wyrm. Every part of that creature is really valuable. Some specific parts of its body can fetch as much as entire Hazard Beasts because of the medicines and elixirs that can be made with them.”
Jason listened intently as the group discussed the rarity and value of dragon-type Hazard Beasts: Drakes, Wyrms, Lindwyrm, Wyverns, and the last one that's a hassle to pronounce. Their excitement was palpable, their voices animated as they shared their dreams of what they could accomplish with the materials they had collected. Their mother was mentioned quite a bit during all that, but not in detail, so Jason assumed she wasn't well, but couldn't put anything together beyond that.
After dinner, the group settled into their tents. Jason and Chanty volunteered for the first watch, their eyes scanning the dark forest as the others drifted off to sleep. Jason's ki strings extended outward, creating a virtually invisible web that covered hundreds of meters around them. Whenever a Hazard Beast entered his range, he manipulated his ki string to stake their hearts through their lungs. And whenever he was low on ki, he'd use his bow.
Chanty watched in amazement as Jason occasionally fired an arrow into the darkness, always hitting his target. She couldn’t see the beasts he was aiming at, but judging by how long the arrow flew before she hears a cry in the darkness, she guessed it was sniping distance.
“Are you using that technique you developed in Shirebunkle? The one you write on walls with?” she asks as Jason returned to his perch.
Jason smiled. “Yup. It's really useful.”
Chanty giggled, while shaking her head. “You are quite the anomaly, pupil. You do such fantastical things casually. I wouldn't be surprised if in a year you leave Sam and me in the dust and begin rubbing shoulders with people 2 Stages above yourself.”
Jason was taken aback by her words. “Woah! Where did that come from? I wouldn't just throw you two to the wayside like that. Sam's taken good care of me from the very beginning until now. And you're my teacher and we've adventured together ever since. We've gone through a lot together. I'd never throw all that way. "
Chanty tilts her head and smiles. “Oh! Your passionate words warm my heart, pupil. Knowing you feel so strongly about Sam and I makes me so happy. Be sure to tell our elf friend the same when we reunite. I trust he will be equal touched." She closes her eyes for a moment to let her feelings sink in before reopening them to continue resume her point. "Alas, my point still stands. Once you surpass me, I'll only be holding you back in battles. I'd be of no better use to you than a housewife.”
Jason made a cheeky grin at that. “What's so bad about that? I wouldn't mind wife-ing you up if I could. You're fun to be around, I trust you with my life, and you're gorgeous. That's perfection, right there.”
Chanty's face fell for a moment, then her eyebrow began twitching as she clenched her fist and spoke in mock outrage.
“Such audacity! I am still your teacher, and can ragdoll you whenever I choose. Yet, you feel comfortable enough to say such scandalous things to my face… Hahaha!” She couldn't maintain character. “That aside, with your virgin-like mentality, I bet you would 'wife up' any woman who showed you a lick of attention. An afternoon in a stream together, and you are already pointing a ring in my direction. Try again after bedding more women until you begin thinking less with that appendage of yours. Moreover, what would become of Sam, hmm? I've seen the way you look at him. Don't tell me you have similar intentions with him.”
Jason was getting a headache from this topic. “Look, I don't like bending over backwards to convince of stuff I've already said. I will drag you two along for as long as you'll let me. You are two of the most important people in the world to me, so I'm not letting you go that easily. If we split up, it'll be you guy's doing, kicking and screaming. So let's not talk about stuff like this anymore, OK?”
Chanty smiles at Jason before over and pinching his cheek, as he protests. Unbeknownst to them, they had an eavesdropper pretending to be asleep.
Day 93: Lassie Town (Outskirts)
The next morning, the camp came alive with the soft rustle of activity. The group gathered around a simple breakfast of roasted meat and fruit, their chatter light and cheerful as they recounted the events of the previous day.
Once breakfast was done, the group set to work processing their haul from the previous day. The corpses of the Hazard Beasts were brought out of their respective Mindscapes and hung from sturdy branches. Each beast varied in size fro large to massive, their forms casting shadows under the morning sun.
Rooney and Terry took charge of draining the blood from the carcasses into large containers, its rich crimson color gleaming in the light. Meanwhile, Alisa and Karen focused on removing the offal, and extracting the Life Cores from the hearts.
As the group worked, the smell of blood and guts began to permeate the air, attracting other Hazard Beasts. Jason and Chanty sprung into action. A pack of Velociraptors was the first to appear, their sharp claws and predatory eyes gleaming as they prowled toward the camp.
Jason’s bow sang as he fired a series of arrows, each one finding its mark and dropping a raptor in its tracks. Chanty, meanwhile, was getting up close and personal ending lives with well placed blows, chops and ki slashes.
The group worked seamlessly, and by the time the last beast had been dealt with, the area around the camp was littered with bodies.
Terry couldn't help but comment on this. “Do we even need a kill zone with those two around?” The siblings couldn't help but agree.
After adequate rest, Jason made an announcement. “Alright guys, I got good news and bad news. Good news is, we caught more Hazard Beasts than we were expecting. Bad news is, it seems all our respective mindscapes are almost full to the brim. This means anymore hunting would be wasteful. So my teacher and I decided its best we head back to town early. You guys cool with that?”
The party of Four wasted no time responding, starting with Alisa.
“It's no problem at all. This hunt has been the most productive we've ever had. Plus it would make no sense to stay any longer. We're more than happy to head back home right now.”
Her siblings plus Terry were in agreement and eager to get going, so the group packed up their camp and made their way back to town. Their estimated arrival time should be just before sunset. The trek back was relatively uneventful. Well, as uneventful as a forest filled with dangerous creatures could possibly be. They were attacked by the odd Hazard Beast then and again but Jason dealt with them all from a distance.
Soon they arrived back at Lassie Town, the siblings plus Terry hooting in joy at returning home. However, they all had something to handle before going their separate ways, and that was distribution of their kill. Plus the Wyrm had to be taken care of in a special way.
Getting to the guild, the party of four greeted a few of their friends and colleagues as they led Jason and Chanty to the cashier. Being the most experienced of the group, Chanty did all the talking to said cashier who rushed to the back to call someone and grab paperwork.
After a few minutes, another guild staff arrives and leads them through a back door to an open space where he asks them to place the Wyrm corpse on the floor. Chanty does as asked and staff member whistles at the sight with eyes as big as saucers. “Wow! You guys took this down? And lived?” He turns to the party of four before shaking his head. “That's a 2nd Stage Hazard Beast. No way you four took it down, no offense.” Rooney shrugs in resignation; he wasn't wrong. The guild staff then turns to Jason and Chanty. “It must have been you two then. Must be second stage yourselves, then. That's pretty impressive.”
Jason and Chanty both shrug in response. The staffer took the subtle hint, and went to work measuring the Wyrm and taking notes.
At that moment, the receptionist arrives with paperwork and gawks at the beast before her, then swiftly regaining her professional demeanor, and handing over the paperwork to the 6 adventurers present.
According to guild policy, certain Hazard Beasts of high value, and in high demand are auctioned off to buyers. When a purchase takes place, the guild takes its commission and pays out the adventurers responsible for the catch/kill.
After signing on the dotted line, Jason couldn't help but ask. “Who are the kind of people who pay for a Wyrm? Must be really wealthy and influential.”
The receptionist explained. “It would most likely be the Temple of Healing Wind. They have the resources to bid right away, and fulfil just as quickly. They provide many guild branches with a long list of creatures and plants they'd like to be provided. This is one of them, so it's quite likely they purchase it.”
Jason remembered the name. Chanty mentioned the Temple of Healing Wind in passing back in her Dojo. He decided he'd ask for more details from her when he had the chance.
“Oh! One more thing. We would like to make a report…" Jason went on to explain what transpired between the ruffians and the Party of Four. The receptionist nodded in understanding before leaving to retrieve more paper. “Please provide a detailed report in writing along with names and descriptions of those involved. The guild will take note of this, and act accordingly.”
Terry squinted his eyes. “What does 'act accordingly' mean exactly?”
The receptionist made a troubled face at that, but Chanty cut in. “It's a long-winded explanation I don't feel like re-hearing. Just know the guild's hands are most likely tied because all you have is an allegation without evidence. Best case is they'll give those six a lecture to be safe, and hope they don't reoffend.”
Terry was reigning in his outrage as best he could. “So what do we do about them, then? They already threatened revenge, were sitting ducks if they're not dealt with.”
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The receptionist sighs, she understood his dilemma. “Use your discretion in accordance with Guild rules. That's all I can say on the matter. Sorry, a wasn’t of better help.”
Her apology pours cold water on Terry, who now looks regretful for losing his cool on someone unrelated to the issue. “Nah, it's… Don't be sorry, it's not your fault. We'll figure something out.”
Out of nowhere, Karin exclaims some distance away.
“Wow! You're superb at drawing. It's so lifelike.” Everyone turns to the brunette who is craning over Jason's shoulder, who himself is scribbling something on a desk nearby. Literally, everyone walks over and joins her, eager to see what all the hubbub is about. They all let out gasps as Jason finishes drawing the leader of the ruffians in such great detail, that someone from Jason's world would have mistaken it for a white and black photograph.
“Nahhh… You're exaggerating. Dude's so plain anyone can draw him.” Jason tries to brush it off by gaslighting so badly everyone deadpans at him.
Jason, however, has no artistic skill. With the help of his [Eidatic Memory], [Parallel Thought], and [Muscle Memory], he could draw from memory as though he were tracing a picture from his perspective.
Chanty took the finished drawing, as Jason started on another. She inspected it for a bit, impressed with the quality. “This is excellent work, pupil. I'd like to commission some drawings of my own when you have the spare time.”
Her words make Karin and Alisa perk up, before they join in and request drawings of their own. This makes Jason sweat drop a little. “Chill, you people. Relax, dang…"
Soon enough, he finishes drawing all six of the ruffians in vivid detail, with a very detailed description of each of them written on the back. The receptionist takes the papers and begins looking through till she eventually staples them together. “I shall prepare your receipts. Would you like to collect them in a few minutes or tomorrow morning?” All 6 agreed on tomorrow morning, before leaving the guild. As exited the building, Alisa turned to Jason and Chanty. “If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to invite you both to have dinner with us. You know, as thanks for yesterday.”
Jason turns to Chanty, predicting her response, but wanting to verify regardless. The Martial Artist for her part, twirls her wrist casually, which makes Jason snicker at her free spirit antics before answering for them both. “Sure! We humbly accept your hospitality. Do lead the way.”
His half-assed butler talk got a few laughs out of the group as Alisa beams, happy they accepted, before leading the way back to her home.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the streets of Lassie as the group approached Alisa’s family home. The cobbled path beneath their feet was worn from years of use, lined with small patches of grass sprouting between the cracks. The air carried the scent of cooking fires, baked bread, and the ever-present metallic tang of the blacksmith nearby.
Jason and Chanty followed behind Alisa, Rooney, Karen, and Terry as they turned down a familiar street. The houses here were modest but sturdy, built from thick stone and reinforced wood. Alisa's house stood out slightly from the others, a larger two-story structure with a reinforced wooden fence surrounding a small courtyard. The place had a welcoming feel to it, with a well-tended herb garden growing along the side. It reminded Jason of the Clarkson's home back in Tatter Town.
Alisa steps onto the porch before knocking on the door, calling out. “Daaaad! We're hoooome!”
Everyone could hear loud rushed footsteps approaching quickly like someone was being chased by their worst nightmare. The front door burst open with the force of a battering ram. A tall figure lunged forward, engulfing Alisa in an embrace so tight it lifted her feet off the ground. Jason and Chanty watched as the man’s arms wrapped around her, his fit frame shaking with emotion. “My sweet girl! You’re finally home!”
Alisa let out a wheeze, her arms flailing helplessly in her father’s grasp. “Dad—can’t breathe—!”
However, Rooney, Karen, and Terry, stood beside Jason and Chanty, and simply exchanged amused glances. Rooney crossed his arms and smirked. “This never gets old.”
Karen nodded in agreement. “Yup! As long as you're not on the receiving end.”
Terry chuckled. “Not sure if I should be envious or not.”
Jason cracked a smile. “They sure are a lively bunch.”
“Nhnhn.” Chanty chuckled, watching the scene unfold with an expression of mild fascination.
Alisa, still struggling in her father’s grasp, managed to free one arm just enough to motion toward Jason and Chanty. “Dad—guests—” she gasped out, desperately trying to loosen his grip.
'Dad' blinked, his overwhelming excitement temporarily interrupted. His gaze shifted, finally noticing the two unfamiliar faces standing just behind his children. Jason, dressed in his usual travel-worn gear, did a brief bow with the palm of one hand facing him chest. It was something he saw butlers in TV do a lot. Chanty, placed one hand on her hip, and waved with the other as she studied their soon to be host with quiet curiosity.
Realization dawned on Alisa’s father, and he immediately dropped his daughter with a loud thud. Alisa stumbled, nearly falling onto her rear before catching herself, clutching her ribs as she sucked in precious air.
“Oh. Guests.” Lampard coughed into his fist, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “My bad. Got a little carried away.”
Straightening himself, the mans cleared his throat and stepped forward, extending a hand. “Name’s Lampard. Alisa’s, Rooney, and Karen's father. And you are?... ”
Jason shook his hand, noting the man’s firm grip. “Jason. Pleasure to meet.”
Chanty, maintaining her usual composed demeanor, also accepted the handshake. “Chanty.”
Lampard studied the two for a moment, his sharp eyes taking in the details. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Alisa, having finally regained her breath, crossed her arms and huffed before giving her father a brief summary of why she invited the two over.
Lampard’s brows shot up. “Truly?” His gaze flickered toward Rooney, Karen, and Terry for confirmation.
Karin stepped in quickly. “It’s true, Dad. After that happened, they helped us hunt numerous Hazard Beasts, and we were able to bring down a Wyrm too.”
Lampard’s eyes widened. “A Wyrm?!”
“A Wyrm, yes. It was huge. The guild is handling it right now.” Terry verified, grinning.
For a long moment, Lampard simply stared at the group, then burst into a hearty laugh before clapping Jason on the shoulder. “Guess I owe you two a proper thanks.” He turned and gestured toward the door. “Come in, both of you. You’re staying for dinner.”
Jason and Chanty exchanged a glance before nodding to each other. “Sounds good.” Jason spoke for the both of them.
As they stepped inside, Jason took in the cozy interior of the house. The walls were lined with wooden beams, the floor covered in thick, well-worn rugs. The air smelled of spices and freshly baked bread. A large dining table sat in the center of the room, with a fireplace crackling in the corner, adding a welcoming warmth.
Lampard clapped his hands. “Alright! Alisa, Karen, you two get started on dinner. Rooney, get us some drinks. The rest of us will sit and chat.”
The wooden chairs creaked softly as Jason and Chanty settled into their seats at the long dining table. The glow of ki lanterns cast a warm light over the room, flickering off the well-polished wooden surfaces. The walls were adorned with weapons of various kinds—an old but well-maintained Pike mounted above the fireplace, a rack of throwing spears along the far wall, and a few ornate swords in a display case. This was clearly the home of a warrior, and it reflected in every detail.
Lampard took his seat at the head of the table, stretching out his muscular arms with a satisfied sigh. Rooney and Terry sat to his right, Jason and Chanty across from them, while Alisa and Karen worked in the adjacent kitchen, cutting vegetables and preparing the evening meal. The smell of roasting meat and herbs was already filling the space, giving the house an even cozier atmosphere.
Lampard let out a pleased hum as he rubbed his hands together. “So then, Jason. Tell me something—what’s your weapon of choice?”
That threw Jason off. “Aren't you curious about the stuff your kids told you about?”
Lampard waves it off. “There's plenty of time for all that. But first, I'd like to know what kind of man you are.”
Jason shrugs, deciding to play along. “Swords.”
Lampard grinned, as if expecting that answer. “A fine choice. Versatile, deadly, good for both offense and defense. But let me ask you this—what makes you think swords are the best?”
Jason exhaled through his nose, ready to defend sword lovers everywhere. “The versatility of swords is understated. You can use them to cut, stab, parry, and counterattack with speed. They’re not as heavy as axes, not as awkward as hammers, and they don’t require as much space as pole arms. It enables me to adapt to almost any situation, I don't need to carry any other weapon.”
Lampard leaned back, rubbing his gruff beard. “Not a bad argument. But let me tell you why you’re wrong.”
Jason smirked. “Oh?”
Rooney and Terry exchanged amused looks. Lampard leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Swords are great, sure. But you know what beats adaptability? Reach. A spear lets you strike before your enemy can even get close. You don’t have to dodge as much if they can’t touch you. A properly trained Spearman will keep a swordsman at bay every time.”
Jason nodded. “That’s true, especially with Hazard Beasts you would rather not be anywhere near, but spears have one major weakness.”
Lampard tilted his head. “Oh?”
“Grappling.” Jason tapped the table for emphasis. “Once an opponent gets past the spearhead, the spear loses most of its advantage. If a swordsman closes the distance, a Spearman has to either disengage or rely on their sidearm.”
Lampard grinned. “Which is why any Spearman worth their salt knows how to use their shaft as a staff. A spear isn’t just a stabbing weapon—it’s a leverage tool. Ever tried to close in on someone who knows how to use sweeps and counters?”
Jason smirked. “Oh boy, do I. Believe it or not, the spear was the first weapon I trained with. My teacher was an amateur compared to you guys, but he was decent enough to give me trouble. But I still think a sword gives more options. You can control the flow of battle without needing as much space.”
Lampard laughed heartily, clapping a hand on the table as he gave a rebuttal.
Alisa, from the kitchen, spoke out loud to Karen without looking back. “Told you they’d get along.”
Karen chuckled as she stirred the stew over the stove. “It’s like watching two battle junkies flirt.”
Jason shot her a dry look, but Karen just giggled and went back to cooking. He then shrugged before leaning back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. “At the end of the day, it depends on the user. A bad swordsman will lose to a good Spearman, and vice versa. The weapon doesn’t make the warrior, but the debate is fun to have.”
Lampard nodded approvingly. “Now that, I can agree with.”
Rooney, watching the whole exchange, grinned. “Well, at least Dad found a new sparring partner.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “You spar a lot?”
Lampard grinned. “Every day we're not out adventuring. You’ll have to join us sometime.”
Jason's eyes sparkled. “It will be my pleasure. I love learning new martial arts.”
The discussion shifted from weapon preferences to training methods. Chanty complimented the party’s skill with the spear, noting that their teamwork and coordination were exceptional for their age. Lampard beamed with pride at the praise.
“I trained them well, didn’t I?” he said, folding his arms.
Chanty nodded. “No doubt. At their level, most first-stage cultivators are still on the basics. But they have form, technique, and finesse."
Jason hopped in. "That's for sure! I remember when Karen over there dodged an attack from the Wyrm by pole-vaulting into the air, before stabbing down on the top of its head while still airborne. Now that was cool! And it says a lot about their teacher.”
Lampard chuckled. “I appreciate that, lad. But let’s talk about you for a second.”
Jason blinked, then tilted his head. “What about me?”
Lampard rested his chin on his fist. “You took down those ruffians barehanded, right?”
Jason shrugged. “I've fought stronger guys and Hazard Beasts. I didn't need my weapon to handle them.”
Lampard smirked. “See, that’s what I mean. Most cultivators your age would have been overwhelmed without their weapon, but you handled it like it was nothing. That’s not normal.”
Rooney nodded. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. We’re not bad for our stage, but Jason fights like he’s in the second stage.”
Jason began making placating gestures. “You’re exaggerating. I'm helpless against my teacher over here whenever she gets serious.”
“That doesn't disprove anything.” Lampard argued. “At first-stage Mortal Realm, even the best fighters still rely on weapons to compensate for gaps in skill. A barehanded martial artist would lose against a weapons wielder of equal skill most of the time. But you? You didn’t just beat those guys. You dominated them so badly one would be forgiven for thinking they were amateurs. That’s the kind of talent that only comes around once in a thousand years.”
Jason blinked, caught off guard by the statement. He had always known he was strong for his level, being OP and all. He knew he was far ahead, but not this far.
Chanty, who had been sipping a cup of tea, finally spoke up. “He’s right, pupil. I don't praise you so much for nothing.”
Jason rolled his eyes at that. Before turning to Lampard. “Well, regardless I still got a long way to go. Plenty of people out there who can just quash me with like a bug.”
Lampard studied him for a moment before grinning. “It's good you're humble, it'll keep you alive longer. Regardless, you’ve got my respect. Just don't go pissing off the wrong people. Heck! I recommend you find some powerful faction or family and grab 'em by the thigh. You're gonna attract a lot of attention, and some folks believe in the 'If I can't have him, nobody can!' approach.”
Jason nodded at him. “Thanks! I'll keep that in mind.”
Before the conversation could continue, Alisa and Karin walked over with trays of food, setting steaming plates of roasted meat, fresh bread, and vegetable stew on the table.
“Alright,” Karin said, setting a bowl in front of her father. “The food is ready. Dig in.”
Lampard grinned. “Don't mind if I do.”
The sounds of clinking utensils and low chatter filled the dining room as everyone enjoyed their meal. The wooden table, though aged, was sturdy and well-worn from years of family gatherings. The rich aroma of seasoned meat and freshly baked bread lingered in the air, complemented by the herbal notes from the steaming bowls of vegetable stew.
Jason ate as dignified as he could manage, listening as Rooney and Terry joked about past sparring sessions, while Alisa and Karin occasionally scolded them for their table manners. Chanty remained mostly quiet, eating with the same calm precision as always.
Lampard, however, had an expression of quiet contemplation, occasionally glancing at Alisa. After a while, he set his spoon down with a small clink and exhaled. “Alright, it's about time we talked about those thugs.”
The atmosphere around the table immediately shifted. The lighthearted conversation died down, and the siblings exchanged curious looks. Alisa placed her spoon down as well, turning her full attention to her father. “Yes, Dad. What in particular?”
Lampard leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Not sure yet. Fill me in on what went on, and how the guild reacted when you reported the incident.”
After listening to Alisa’s lengthy explanation, Lampard sighed. "Yup. The guild won’t act unless those men do something so blatant that it can’t be ignored. That’s the reality of it. But just because the Guilds hands are tied doesn't mean ours are. I know some ways to deal with them.”
Rooney leaned forward, eager to hear. “Sweet! What do you have in mind, Dad?”
Lampard nodded. “First, we spread the word.”
Rooney frowned in contemplation. “Spread the word?”
“Yes. Tell everyone we know about what happened. The more people who are aware of those bastards and their behavior, the harder it will be for them to act without scrutiny."
Terry rubbed his chin in thought. “That could work. It'll keep our friends and colleagues on guard.”
Lampard continued. “Second, you strengthen your numbers. Currently, they see you four as an easy target because you’re a small group. But if you combine forces with others—merge into larger parties for hunts—they’ll think twice before trying anything.”
Karen’s blinked a few times. “Why didn't we think of such a simple solution?”
Lampard grinned. “Good. That leads to my third point—we stay on guard until they leave. According to what you guys said, they're not from around here, and are most likely passing through. Just stay on guard for a few days until they leave and become someone else's problem. ”
His kids and Terry had no qualms with the plan. They voiced their support and willingness follow it through.
Lampard claps his hands together. “Alright, then. Tomorrow, you all will start reaching out to some people about forming bigger hunting groups, as well as the other stuff I told you to do.”
Jason raises his hand. “Guess this is good enough of a time to let you know that we are actually planning on partying with them for a while. Chanty and I will continue hunting with them for the next week at least. They were a huge help, and we had quite the haul yesterday. ”
Lampard looked at him in surprise. “Really? Hahaha! That's great. It's mutually beneficial. I got no issue with that. I bet you kids don't either, right?”
Rooney grinned. “I don’t mind. In fact, I was hoping we'd adventure more.”
Alisa smiled. “We'll be in your care.”
Lampard let out a hearty laugh. “Alright, enough talk. It’s late, and you two should get some rest. I’ll walk you out.”
Jason and Chanty stood up, nodding in gratitude. As they made their way toward the door, the warmth of the home lingered behind them.
Outside, the night air was cool and crisp, and the streets were dimly lit by scattered lanterns. Lampard walked with them for a short distance before stopping.
“Jason, Chanty.” He turned to face them, his expression serious. “Take care of my kids, alright?”
Jason gave a firm nod. “I will.”
Chanty gave a slight nod. “We won’t let anything happen to them.”
Lampard smiled, stepping back. “Good. Then I’ll see you both soon. Maybe get in a few spars. ”
With that, Jason and Chanty turned and walked into the night.