The travelling circus of four individuals, two skeletal horses, and a cargo box entered its third day. Murphy had gleaned a treasure trove of information about the human world from the young lass using a cunning method of overcharging for services, then tempting her to offset part of the bill with juicy tidbits.
Naturally, these "secrets" were nothing more than common knowledge within the Baker Viscount's territory to the girl and assumed to be unknown to outsiders. Hence, she felt like she was getting an excellent deal, while the trio of demon merchants lapped up every word eagerly, making it a win-win arrangement.
Exchange of information is always a two-way street, and Murphy’s side was as authentic as they come. By authentic, they revealed their real names...and just that.
When asked about what sort of goods they were peddling in the Goblin territory, Murphy fabricated a tale about a shipment of pointed wooden poles. The rationale behind this was that the Goblin’s local wood was sturdy but always warped; thus, it didn’t meet their need for crafting tools and traps. Hence the import of straight wooden poles from afar, which they had then exchanged for pelts to resell in the Baker Viscount's territory and other places for a profit.
The foursome spent two days and two nights in a one-sided mind game. With the endurance of the skeletal horses, they would arrive at the Baker Viscount's territory before nightfall. The carefree female knight was in high spirits, even letting her guard down in her sleep.
The inability to move freely at night was a mild torment for the demons. Tyre and the life-like Byron would lie motionless on the cold ground while Charlene slumbered away. The Demon King, however, no longer required sleep.
Charlene noticed the group's energy surged in the late afternoon after spending days together. The trio explained that they were still adjusting to biorhythms after their constant travel to the Desolate Hills. Charlene thanked them sincerely yet again.
The makeshift merchant group had left the demon realm, ambling towards the borderlands with no man’s land. Charlene had not let her guard down until she ascertained that they had vacated the demon territory, fearing an ambush by Goblins.
Byron had said fewer than ten words throughout the three days, the epitome of laziness. Given the smart and powerful skeletal horses, he barely needed to watch over them or feed them hay. His reinsmanship was mostly pure pretence to fool Charlene, but her attention was mainly focused on Tyre.
Tyre was getting used to the routine of travelling by day and resting by night but not yet accustomed to someone observing him regularly. With Murphy’s explanation, he understood that his natural good looks and the allure of his demon lineage brought him unnecessary trouble. He needed to keep up the act of being human.
The happiest person in the entire crew was certainly Murphy. While the others were absorbed in acting human, faking appearances, and bracing for danger, Murphy, who had been mimicking human behaviours for over ten years, simply played himself. Even as a foreigner in this world, Murphy bore a significant similarity to the local human populace. His perfect act revealed no cracks, making him appear to Charlene as an outsider with just peculiar habits.
This period was also the most relaxed one for Murphy since his arrival in this alternate world. To make up for his premature demise in his original life, he had thrown himself into his new role with everything he had ever since his arrival. It was only now that Murphy realized he had spent only one week in this new world. “Human laziness seeps through, irrespective of how physically strong one is. One always needs a break," he mused.
Looking at his sheepskin notebook filled with numerous hilarious landmarks and features he encountered on the trip—some accompanied by non-representative illustrations—Murphy felt an overwhelming sense of relaxation. With 'Record of Departing from the Demon Tribe' as a title for his chronicles, he gazed down at his first creation. Murphy sighed deeply, "The holiday is nearing its end." He then unfolded a piece of parchment containing a bill of Charlene's 'expenses' during their journey, which included rescue fees, food and beverage costs, and the price of a fur coat she had made from the skins in their carriage. The cumulative amount was considerable. True to Murphy's principle of not neglecting the slightest profit, he planned to exchange this bill for valuable information from Charlene's grandfather, the present Baker Viscount.
With this world’s basic pricing knowledge, Murphy had a clearer understanding of his first gold hoard’s buying power in this alternate world, where a civilian household could amass a single gold coin only through a year of frugality. His wealth could literally rival a nation's treasury, it was no surprise that heroes who defeated Demon Kings ended up being a thorn in the side of human kings. Such vast wealth truly was hard to resist. Murphy wished he could bag up the entire demon race and bring them to a new continent to start anew. The game's difficulty certainly would reduce a lot then.
By evening on the fourth day of their journey, they faintly saw the walls of the central town of the Baker Viscount Territory, White Wolf City, on their horizon.
They arrived at the city gates near closing time. Two fully armored guards were making haste to clear the remaining civilians; their cursory search of entrants was slackening. Being genuine merchant carriers lacking any illegal cargo, they were not frightened of the guards' search. Murphy's primary concern was that the clumsy soldiers might clumsily knock off the horse skins draped over the skeletal horses, leading to a terrifying tale in White Wolf City of demonic creatures sneaking in at dusk.
To ensure the plan's smooth execution, Murphy gave Charlene a suggestive glance, hinting that it was showtime for her noble privilege to shine. Charlene merely shrugged and drew a line in the air in front of her with her finger, signifying a deduction in the bill payment. Murphy, with no choice, slashed two gold coins off her bill and showed it to Charlene. Thus, the Viscount's girl, missing for ten days in her unflattering fur robe, abruptly emerged at the city gates.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
One guard immediately sprinted toward the central White Wolf Citadel, while the other ensured Charlene's safety and escorted her into the city. The merchant trio who had escorted her home naturally received high respect from the guards. As guests, they passed the city gates without any searches, joining Charlene in the mundane waiting process.
The civilians at the city gates began entering the city in droves, with no guards left to prevent them. However, at that moment, the safety of the Viscount's daughter took higher priority than a few commoners. After all, White Wolf City had been peaceful for ninety years. What was the likelihood of a demon spy entering the city precisely today? It seemed highly unlikely.
Upon sighting the city walls of White Wolf City towards the end of day four, all parties knew they were nearly there. As they reached the entrance, they were close to closing time, with two fully equipped guards loudly urging civilians who were yet to enter the city. The inspections for entrance were being carried out perfunctorily. As genuine merchants, they were not concerned about anyone checking their crate, as they were not carrying anything illegal. Murphy's main concern, after observing inspections on a few people before, was that the guards, in their clumsiness, might accidentally knock off the skins draped over the skeletal horses, which would then leave White Wolf with a terrifying story of a monstrous creature sneaking into the city at dusk.
To ensure the smooth execution of the plan, Murphy signaled Charlene in a way that told her it was time for her to use her noble status. Charlene did not protest but, rather than standing up, raised her eyebrows and made a slash in the air in front of her with her fingers, a sign that had become recognized as the deduction of a certain amount from the bill. Murphy, having no other choice, took out the parchment with the record of accounts, crossed out an expense of two gold coins, and showed it to Charlene. Thus, the elusive Lady Charlene, now wearing an unrefined fur coat, made her abrupt appearance at the city gates.
The two guards at the gate glanced at each other, with one immediately running to the White Wolf Castle in the town center, and the other failed to prod the civilians waiting to be inspected at the gates and walked straight up to ensure Charlene's safety. He led her through the city gates to wait for larger reinforcements. As the merchant trio who escorted Charlene home, they were naturally treated with great respect by the guards. They were led through the city gates without being inspected as guests and joined Charlene in the tedious task of waiting.
With guards absent, the civilians outside the gates began to pour into the city. No one cared about that at this point. The safety of the lady was much more important than a few civilians, and White Wolf City has been in peace for ninety years; is demon spies just so happening to enter the city tonight possible? Absolutely impossible.
After years of peace, Charlene, who had always been vigilant, had eased, free of worries about being abducted by goblins. After realizing she had exited the demon realm, her mind was finally at ease.
The role of coachman was played to perfection by Byron, who only totalled less than ten words in three days. He took slacking off to a new level. He only needed to act when Charlene was watching due to the smart and powerful skeletal horses. However, Charlene's attention was primarily focused on Tyre.
Tyre was almost accustomed to their daytime travels and evening rests but not to the constant scrutiny of a human. Thanks to Murphy’s explanation, Tyre realized that his natural looks and succubi lineage were drawing undesired attention. He had to act the part of a human more convincingly.
Out of the entire crew, Murphy was surely having the most fun. While the others were fretting, keeping up appearances, and role-playing humanity, the former human only needed to play himself—seamlessly, even as a stranger in this world. So like this realm's humans he was, Charlene couldn't find fault in him. He seemed just a foreigner with some quirky habits.
It was also Murphy’s most relaxed time since arriving in this otherworld. To make up for his untimely demise, he'd thrown himself into his demon duties upon arrival. Only now did he realize he had been in this world for just a week. "As expected," he mused, "no matter how strong the body, a human’s lazy soul always needs a bit of fish-touching."
Leafing through his parchment notebook, filled with remarkable landmarks and features—accompanied by illustrations quite far from accurate—Murphy felt truly unwound. He turned to a blank page and playfully scribbled 'Tales from the Demon Realm' as a title, admiring his first piece of original work with a deep sigh. "Vacation's over, I suppose." He then withdrew a rolled-up piece of parchment from another pocket. It was an extensive list of obligations the young Miss Charlene had accrued for various necessities and tasks they had performed on her behalf, building to a significant amount. Embracing the principle that no gain is too small, Murphy was set to exchange this uncollected debt for a wealth of information from the grandfather, this generation's Viscount Baker.
Having grasped the world's basic commodity prices, Murphy appreciated the purchasing power this 'first stab' of wealth afforded. In a world where an average family scrimped and saved for a year to amass a mere gold coin, his treasure verged on being kingdom-rivaling. No wonder heroes, after defeating the demon lord, became such thorns in the sides of human kings—a fortune like this was too enticing to ignore. If only he could uproot all demons and start anew on an unknown continent, the game difficulty would surely drop significantly.
On the journey's fourth evening, they finally glimpsed the looming walls of Whitewolf Town—the central hub of the Baker Viscounty—on the horizon.
As they reached the town's gates around closing time, two fully-armed guards were hurrying the last stragglers inside, sloppily conducting their routine searches. The authentic merchant team wasn't concerned about a baggage inspection; they had no contraband this time. Murphy's biggest worry was a clumsy guard dislodging the horses' hides, leaving a ghastly tale of demon beasts marching into Whitewolf Town at dusk.
To ensure the plan went smoothly, Murphy signaled Charlene with a knowing look, time for her to flaunt her noble status—a privilege that only shines when witnessed by others. Rather than rise, Charlene raised an eyebrow and traced an imaginary line in front of her. Reluctantly, Murphy took out his ledger, striking off a debt of two gold coins and showed it to Charlene. Then, the viscount's granddaughter, missing for ten days, oddly attired in a purely utilitarian animal hide, appeared abruptly by the gates.
The guards exchanged glances—one dashed toward Whitewolf Castle in the town's heart, while the other pushed forward to secure Charlene's safety, ushering her through the gates to await the family's mobilization. The trio escorting Charlene home naturally enjoyed the respect due to honored guests, passing through the town's gates unchecked into a tedious vigil by her side.
Outside, the unchecked townspeople began to pour in through the gates. Yet no guard cared about that now—for the safety of the returning Miss outweighed a few commoners. Whitewolf Town had enjoyed ninety years of peace. Surely, there was no chance of demon spies entering tonight... absolutely impossible, right?