Chapter 24: Irving I

Leo frowned at Dalton and Ivan. The two Hounds moved forward at a steady pace through the village, glancing back every few seconds to make sure they were following. According to Sonia, they were leading them to their “temporary place of residence.”

The [Fragmentholder] silently rubbed at his hands, which were slightly sore from where he’d landed on them earlier. Around them, it seemed like the Hounds had made some progress on herding the villagers back into their homes, and he was acutely aware of the eyes of various mercenaries tracing them as they moved.

Among them was the man they’d first seen outside the village. Fergus, Leo remembered Flora calling him. Dark eyes followed them with an uncanny intensity. Another Hound nudged him, and the two muttered something, but it was much too quiet for Leo to make out.

“Excuse me, could I ask where you’re leading us?” Allan asked politely. Dalton snorted.

“You’ll figure it out.” He spun around so he was walking backwards, mouth twisting into a sneer. “And quit the friendly act. You’re not fooling shit.”

Ivan muttered something under his breath, and the other Hound scowled.

“Excuse me?”

“If your skill wasn’t broken maybe we wouldn’t have wasted time on this.”

Dalton laughed lowly at that. “Not like we’re not already wasting plenty of time.”

Ivan shot the other Hound a glare, but didn’t bother responding. Instead, his pace slowed, and he gestured at a small, unassuming home sitting by the edge of the village.

“We’re here.”

Leo carefully scanned the surroundings. The home was relatively small, made up of old wooden boards of varying colors where old leaks had been patched over. The Glass Lake was easily visible behind the home, the rolling grasses of the backyard leading to its flat expanse, and the path leading up to the front door had relatively fresh footprints marking it.

What most caught his attention, however, were the number of Hounds mulling about the area. Two by the back between the home and the lake. Three around the perimeter leading to the village exit. One watching the other side across the street. Two more at the front.

The difference in density of mercenaries between this building and the others in Clearside was stark, even if one could argue that some of them were watching the entire street or a block of buildings and not just this one.

Ivan strode up to the door and knocked three times sharply.

A few tense moments passed, but no response. Ivan frowned, but before he could knock again, Dalton strode forward and hit the door significantly harder, enough to rattle the lock.

“Open up!” he yelled, and Leo cringed internally at the volume of the Hound’s voice.

This time, from within the home, the [Fragmentholder] heard muffled, but steady footsteps drawing closer.

Just when Dalton raised his hand to knock again, the door creaked open.

On the other side stood an elderly man, a cane gripped firmly in one hand and thin silver hair nearly invisible in the light. He frowned at them, and deep wrinkles and creases lining his features gave him a weathered, tired appearance.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Name: Irving

Age: 61

Level: 20

Class: [Fisherman, Tier 0]

Personal Skill: [Ailing Lvl 5]

Suspicious blue eyes flitted between them. “What is it?”

Leo studied the man closely. This must be the “old fool” the Hounds leader had mentioned and, as such, the center of whatever was going on in Clearside.

At a glance, though, he couldn’t find anything particularly special or noteworthy about the man. He had a plain Tier 0 class and there was no indication that he had a fragment. What, then, was going on?

“Say hello to your new guests.” Dalton jerked his head at the three of them, and Irving’s confusion mirrored Leo’s own.

“What? Who—“

“They’re travelers passing by,” Ivan said evenly. His eyes narrowed. “Given the…circumstances, Sonia thought it was pertinent to keep them in Clearside for the next four days.”

Leo could see the man mentally processing the words, and a spark of rage ignited in his eyes as their meaning finally settled.

“They have nothing to do with this! You can’t—“

“It’s just four days max, right?” Dalton butted in. He shifted his position casually, spear gleaming in the light. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

Indignance shifted into unease and an emotion Leo thought he recognized as guilt. Finally, it turned to resignation.

“…I assume I have no say in the matter.”

The two Hounds’ lack of response was answer enough. Sighing, Irving shifted to open the door wider.

“Come in,” he said in a defeated tone. Leo glanced back where Ivan and Dalton stood waiting. They weren’t moving to follow, so they really had just been bringing them here.

Dalton shot him a sneer when he noticed the [Fragmentholder]’s gaze, and he scowled and stepped inside, Allan and Spade behind him.

The moment the door shut and the two Hounds were out of view, Irving let out a spew of curses. Leo, however, was more focused on studying the interior of the home.

It was small and cozy, the decorations simple and understated. The window in the back facing the lake had its curtain drawn shut, but the others remained open. Leo shifted his weight, and the floorboards creaked slightly beneath his feet. It wasn’t exceptionally egregious, but he noted it for the future.

“Hey.”

“—those damned Hounds dare—“

“Hey!”

Leo’s voice seemed to finally snap the man out of his tirade. Allan was frowning at him, though Spade if anything looked rather amused at his rant.

Irving blinked a few times, as if pulled out of a trance. He stared at the three of them like he was just now seeing them. He exhaled.

“My apologies, I lost my temper,” he muttered. The man nodded at them. “I am Irving. I’m truly sorry that the three of you have gotten involved in this mess.”

Leo frowned at the man. Something about his tone, his sudden passivity after that rant despite ostensibly being the source of this mess, irritated him. He could feel the tension from the earlier encounter with Sonia and his growing frustration starting to rise.

“And what is going on anyway?”

Irving frowned, looking somewhat put off by the [Fragmentholder]’s bluntness.

“It’s a village matter.”

Leo snorted at that.

“Look, if I’m putting things together right, it sounds like the Hounds’re threatening you to do something in four days and we,” he gestured at himself, Allan, and Spade, “just got tossed into the pile as hostages or whatever.” He crossed his arms.

“I think we’ve got more than a right to know what’s going on.”

The man went quiet, and Leo’s jaw clicked shut. Had he gone too far? They couldn’t afford to alienate the man when he was their only source of information.

Before Leo had the chance to backtrack, however, Irving heaved a long, weary sigh.

“You’re right,” he said. “You do have a right to know.”

He raised his head and turned, gesturing towards the living room.

“Why don’t we have a seat?” he suggested. “Then I’ll tell you what’s been happening in this village.”