Human man? What an awkward appellation... Glen silently grumbled within himself, yet a triumphant smile played upon his lips. "I had assumed you elves were incapable of apologizing. It seems you do possess a modicum of courtesy after all."
At the sight of his smile, Gotaya felt a surge of irritation, yet she refrained from showing it. Instead, she patiently inquired, "Could you inform me how I might reside here, human man?"
Too indolent to correct her address, Glen deliberately pondered for a moment before murmuring, "I do have a place where you could stay, yet I cannot simply offer it to you gratis..."
"What do you desire me to do?" Gotaya asked forthrightly, discerning the hidden meaning.
Impressed by her astuteness, Glen smiled. "Recently, I've been in want of some additional hands. If it's feasible for you..."
I knew he had ulterior motives... Gotaya took a deep breath and said, "Tell me precisely what the task entails. I shall consider it before making a decision."
Glen shifted his sitting posture and stated in a matter-of-fact tone, "Rest assured, it won't be anything arduous. Merely tending to some pigs."
Since Ravel would be required for other purposes shortly, Glen had been fretting over the lack of someone to assume his duties. The arrival of this elven maiden seemed opportune.
"Pig rearing?" Gotaya queried, a look of bewilderment on her face.
"Precisely, pig rearing. Do not misconstrue me as a schemer. There is naught about you that I covet."
Gotaya regarded Glen's explanation with a measure of skepticism, yet she acquiesced nonetheless. After all, it appeared to be the most prudent choice.
By the time they reached Glen's abode, the sky had fully brightened.
Despite having been awake throughout the night, Glen showed little sign of fatigue. Conversely, Gotaya was barely maintaining her composure.
She had already endured considerable mental torment while confined in the cage, and coupled with the lack of adequate sleep, she was in dire need of rest.
Thankfully, she had sustained no physical injuries, which had given her the confidence to launch an attack on Glen upon her liberation.
Pushing open the door, Glen first roused Tia, who was still slumbering soundly, and requested her to vacate her bed for Gotaya to rest.
Tia rubbed her bleary eyes, rose from the bed, her disheveled hair cascading down, and her loose attire revealing her fragrant shoulders, their whiteness dazzling. Glen couldn't help but steal a few extra glances.
"Mr. Glen, why are you up so early?"
"A new member has joined us. She hasn't slept all night. I was hoping to borrow your bed for her to recuperate for a while."
"Ah?" Tia became somewhat more alert. "But..."
Noting the girl's reluctant expression, Glen said, resigned, "I'll give you a silver coin."
The reluctance vanished from Tia's countenance, and she feigned reluctance, stating, "Well, since it's your request, Mr. Glen, I suppose I have no alternative."
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"Now, that's more like it," Glen nodded in satisfaction.
Indeed, few could resist the allure of coin, myself included... Glen mused inwardly.
At that moment, Tia seemed to have just realized something. Her face flushed crimson as she exclaimed, "Good heavens! Mr. Glen, how could you enter my chamber without seeking permission!"
As she spoke, she hastily pulled up the quilt to conceal everything below her head.
Glen felt a pang of guilt at her outcry. He had entered without much thought and only later sensed that something was amiss.
"I was concerned I wouldn't be able to rouse you, which is why I came in. In truth, I'm usually quite the gentleman..."
He quickly retreated from the room as he spoke.
Gotaya, who had heard everything clearly from outside, regarded Glen with a skeptical gaze as he scurried out in a fluster.
Collecting his thoughts, Glen said to Gotaya, "Enter. You may rest here for the time being. I shall assign you a different room later."
The elven maiden surveyed the cramped space, which could scarcely accommodate a few individuals, and remarked with a hint of disdain, "Your abode is rather diminutive. You expect me to reside here?"
Glen remained unperturbed. "As long as it provides shelter from the elements, that suffices."
...
Dude Town.
The scarred man, who had just awakened, was performing stretching exercises in his chamber.
Finally, he twisted his neck and pushed open the door, bellowing in his characteristic booming voice, "Lads! Time to rise and shine!"
After his shout, he traversed the corridor, savagely pounding on each door he passed.
Arriving at the door of the room where a mage was resting, he rapped on the door and called out, "Eric! What hour is it? 'Tis time to depart! Were you mooning over women last night? You're still abed!"
However, after a considerable wait, there was not a sound from within.
The scarred man furrowed his brow.
The other mercenaries who had been roused were already emerging from their rooms one by one, yet none of the three mages made an appearance.
Sensing that something was amiss, the scarred man exerted greater force, pounding on the door so vigorously that it resounded throughout.
The vibrating door panel dislodged layers of accumulated dust from the walls.
"Eric! How dare you defy my words! Come out this instant! Otherwise, I'll enter and show you no mercy!"
The scarred man's bellow received no response. The groggy mercenaries who had just awakened also sensed the anomaly and hastened to knock on the doors of the other two mages.
The disheartening outcome was that there was no response from any of them.
The scarred man, now enraged, kicked the door down, causing the tavern waiter who rushed over to grimace in dismay.
Upon beholding the scene behind the door, the scarred man's pupils constricted sharply.
The mage's lifeless body lay supine beside the door, his head askew.
The scarred man approached to examine the body and, upon confirming that the mage was deceased, roared sternly at his subordinates behind him, "Hasten and check on the elf immediately!!!"
Several mercenaries started in alarm and dashed towards the courtyard in a flurry.
The scarred man followed suit.
Upon seeing the guards strewn about and the empty cage, the scarred man's visage contorted with fury.
He emitted a low growl and began wildly pummeling and kicking the adjacent wall. The innocent wall was reduced to rubble in an instant.
Yet, a subordinate then brought another piece of dismal news: "Boss, Vice-captain Fang is nowhere to be found!"
The scarred man, his eyes bloodshot, seized the mercenary who had come to report and hoisted him into the air.
"What?!" With a sudden exertion, he crushed the mercenary's neck in his grip.
Fang was among the more formidable fighters in their group. His demise, if that were the case, would be a significant loss.
The same held true for the three mages. The sudden loss of so much combat strength left the scarred man feeling as though he might as well end his own life.
He was unaware of the copious amounts of effort he had invested in building and maintaining this mercenary group, the Hunter's Guild, to its current standing, and now...
"Why?! Who in blazes are you?! Why are you singling me out?!"
The scarred man shouted angrily at the surrounding air.
Yet, the perpetrator was evidently beyond earshot.
"Boss, we cannot let this go unavenged!" A man with a scimitar slung across his back stepped forward and said resentfully.
"Certainly not! We shall not let this pass!" The scarred man wheeled around and roared, spittle flying into the man's face. "Everyone! Commence the investigation! We must unearth that scoundrel!"
"Aye." The man with the scimitar wiped the spittle from his face, turned, and pointed at several disheveled mercenaries. "You lot! Follow me!"
Once most of the men had departed, the scarred man still wore a deeply troubled expression. "How on earth am I to account for this to the employer?"
Word of the Hunter's Guild's misfortune spread rapidly throughout the town, and many townsfolk were soon abuzz with the news.