Gotaya perceived the person before her as a grave threat. Instinctively, she reached for the bow on her back, yet her grasp met with nothing but air.

The Black Crow observed the elven maiden's movement but showed little reaction. Instead, he simply turned around and took his leave.

Upon witnessing this action, Gotaya felt a modicum of relief and continued to watch until the Black Crow vanished into the mist that shrouded the depths of the town.

Only then did she take a moment to survey her surroundings anew. The expansive town exuded an unsettling sense of lifelessness.

"Is there truly no one residing here?" she murmured as she stepped onto the stone pathway and began to tread softly.

Upon reaching the road, she directed her gaze towards both ends. One led out of the town, while the other extended deeper into its heart.

Driven perhaps by an insatiable curiosity, she made the decision to venture deeper into the town.

However, she had not walked far when the door of a large, three - story house adjacent to her opened, and a tall, robust old man emerged.

In his hand, he held an iron cup from which steam was gently rising.

The old man raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. Then, his eyes casually swept over the unfamiliar elven maiden who was gazing at him."If you value your life, steer clear of the town's depths."

"Who are you?" Gotaya inquired, her voice laced with caution.

The old man, appearing indifferent and disinclined to engage, nonchalantly poured the remaining liquid from the cup into the courtyard and subsequently turned and reentered the house.

Gotaya felt a faint stir of dissatisfaction within her, yet she remained silent.

She once again directed her gaze forward. The outlines of the houses gradually dissolved into the fog.

Moments ago, she had thought little of it, but after the old man's warning, Gotaya couldn't shake the feeling that something truly terrifying lurked within.

After a moment of reflection, Gotaya wisely resolved to proceed no further.

She turned around and began to make her way back. As she walked, she became acutely aware of a sensation of being watched from all directions.

A shiver ran down her spine, and a wave of panic washed over Gotaya.

This subtle feeling had, in fact, been present all along, but she had been so relaxed upon waking that she had simply overlooked it.

What on earth is this place?!...... she exclaimed inwardly and hastened back to Glen's abode.

...

The deer - drawn cart advanced slowly along the uneven and muddy road, with two men on horseback trailing a hundred meters behind.

The bald and burly man, eyeing the deer - drawn cart ahead, stroked his smooth head and queried in bewilderment,"Zamart, why didn't we bring more men? Surely the two of us won't be a match for the one who abducted Fangtooth?"

The thin and wiry mercenary, with a blade of grass between his teeth, scoffed,"Who in their right mind would want to confront that sort of character? We're merely going through the motions."

"Going through the motions?"

"Precisely. Whether that individual is the one we seek or not, we won't make contact. We'll simply follow for a short while and then return to inform the boss that we've interrogated him and it's not him. After all, if the employer becomes irate, it won't be us bearing the brunt of the blame."

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Upon hearing this, the bald and burly man was immediately filled with admiration."Oh! That's the most ingenious plan I've ever heard!"

The thin and wiry mercenary clearly relished the praise, wearing a self - satisfied expression.

Unbeknownst to them, Glen, who was ahead, heard every word of their conversation with perfect clarity.

It is indeed a clever ruse... Glen thought to himself with a hint of amusement as he guided the cart.

Tia, noticing the slight upward curve of Glen's lips on his profile, couldn't resist asking,"What has you so pleased, Mr. Glen?"

"Ah?" Glen suppressed the smile and replied,"It's nothing. I just thought of a joke."

"What kind of joke? Do tell!" Tia exclaimed, her curiosity piqued.

Glen paused for a moment in thought and then casually recounted a few anecdotes from his past life.

Tia had an easily tickled funny bone. As soon as Glen told the simplest of jokes, she was doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down her face.

Her laughter was so clear and resonant that it reached the ears of the followers trailing behind.

"What's gotten into them? Why are they laughing so uproariously?" the bald and burly man asked, looking somewhat dazed.

"Who knows? Let's not concern ourselves with them."

The thin and wiry mercenary dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand.

As they journeyed further, the two mercenaries, true to their earlier discussion, halted their pursuit after a short while.

The deer - drawn cart soon vanished from their line of sight.

Glen and Tia successfully arrived outside Bayek Town.

Glen instructed Tia to return home on her own while he, as was his custom, made his way towards the pigsty.

The weeds underfoot had been trampled into the mud over time, forming a clearly discernible path that wound its way into the forest.

Glen followed the path to the familiar location.

Night Roar, having successfully hunted some creature, was engrossed in its meal.

Sensing Glen's arrival, it raised its blood - stained head and let out a soft growl in his direction.

Ravel's curly hair stood out prominently. He was standing beside the pigsty, using a wooden ladle to scoop pig feed into the trough.

He was completely oblivious to Glen's approach.

This scene evoked memories of Glen's rural life in his previous existence, were it not for Ravel's noble attire.

"You're becoming quite proficient," Glen remarked, his tone laced with a hint of teasing.

Upon hearing this, Ravel turned his head. Seeing that it was Glen, he quickly turned back and secretly pursed his lips, thinking: It's all your doing...

Paying no heed to the young noble's actions, Glen stated his intentions,"You won't need to come here tomorrow. I've hired a... um... temporary worker. I have other tasks in mind for you."

Upon hearing this, Ravel did not exhibit the surprise Glen had anticipated. Instead, he wore an expression of obvious reluctance.

"Why?! I... I mean, I've only been at this for a few days. Although I may not have done everything perfectly, but..."

Glen was taken aback by his words."Wait... What's going on? I thought you would detest this kind of work?"

Ravel's expression froze. His eyes darted about guiltily as he attempted to explain,"I didn't say I enjoy it. I just feel that one should approach every task with dedication. This... This is what my father taught me."

Glen was hardly convinced by such a flimsy excuse but chose not to press the matter further. Instead, he merely quipped,"I never would have guessed your father was so committed to his work."

"Y... Yes, he's always been a very pro... professionally - minded and exemplary father..." Ravel said, his voice lacking conviction.

Glen fixed him with a deadpan stare, and for a moment, the air seemed to thicken with tension.

Ravel's face flushed a deep red, and he experienced a profound sense of discomfort and embarrassment.

Night Roar slowed its chewing, its eyes darting back and forth, as if it were an onlooker to the unfolding scene.

After a few seconds, Glen finally averted his gaze and said,"The task I have for you won't take long. You can return once I've found a replacement."

"Very well." Ravel had no desire to prolong the conversation.

After inspecting the facilities in the pigsty, Glen took his leave.

Instead of returning to the town, he made his way to the logging area.

He intended to construct the logging shed that day. There were still numerous logs piled up there, and if they were to get wet in the rain, they would be rendered useless.

...

After a day of tireless searching in Dude Town, the Hunter Mercenary Group had nothing to show for their efforts.

The recent attack had been so unexpected that, despite their best efforts, the mercenaries had been unable to uncover any substantial leads.

Now that night had fallen, the Scarred Man gathered all the members together to compile and analyze the information they had gathered.

In the end, he reached the frustrating conclusion that there were no viable leads.

It was hardly the fault of the mercenaries. After all, they were not trained in intelligence - gathering, and many of them were prone to slacking off.

"You're all a bunch of good - for - nothing fools! Fools!!" the Scarred Man roared like a madman, intermittently slapping or kicking the subordinates who were reporting.

He continued his tirade for nearly an hour, spewing a stream of vulgarities and insults.

Zamart, who stood there with his head bowed, couldn't help but think: The boss sure has a powerful set of lungs...!