Upon hearing the blacksmith Pillar's claim, Murphy nearly choked—he now understood the point of the sword version numbers.
Murphy felt a tinge of deceit. If every sword was the best, then wasn't this just like a seafood chef selling his fried rice as seafood fried rice?
Nevertheless, Murphy hung the sword by his steed; after all, he was now a young wizard, not some old geezer who'd whack folks with his staff after casting a light spell. Aside from adding to his collection, the blade didn't hold much value for him.
Having completed their quest, Murphy and Byron received a hero's welcome among the villagers. Despite the village's modest means, they still managed to offer Murphy fresh-grilled fish from the nearby river. After tending to the wounded, the pair were invited to join the bonfire celebration for the bandits' defeat.
The party spread consisted of just three items: dark bread, roasted fish, and beer so watery it could've been mistaken for horse pee.
In the midst of the merriment, Murphy did what he had to—gather intelligence.
Murphy and the chief went back and forth, drink for drink. The homebrew might taste like dishwater, but the festive spirit turned the chief into an open book.
"Sir, my uncle and I are headed to the City of Gath. According to the map, it's less than a three-day journey from here. Yet bandits dare to strike so close? Doesn't the Count's guard care?"
"Son, you're green behind the ears," the chief shook his head. "Why would His Lordship bother with us? Long as we're breathing, the tax gets collected. If we die, it'll just be another's burden. Just a shame my adventuring days didn't yield more fame, or I'd have swung a sword at those marauders myself..."
---
Murphy and Byron woke up the next day at the chief's place, ready to hit the road again. As they approached the village's edge, the chief called out, "Young man, life's tough on the road. Take this with you."
Murphy, confused, turned back to see the chief with little Pepe in tow. "Sorry, what was that?"
"I said, we hope you'll take this child with you." The chief nudged Pepe forward. "She's been an orphan since she was a tot, raised by the whole village. Without kids her age for company here, and seeing you're a capable youngster with a kind heart, we thought it best for her to see more of the world with you. If you agree, I'll provide fitting compensation."
"It's not that I mind, but the road ahead might bring peril," Murphy hedged.
"No worries, young man. She's bright and won't be a burden."
"If she agrees, I don't see why not."
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
The chief patted Pepe’s shoulder, and with understanding beyond her years, she piped up, "I've never been beyond the village before."
"No objections? Then you're coming with us," Murphy decreed as he rode over. "By the way, Mr. Chief, not that it matters much, but what’s this compensation you mentioned?"
The chief produced a staff almost as tall as a man. "This would be your reward—the finest staff from Little River."
Murphy: "...Not this again?"
[Weapon: Finest Staff of Little River
Quality: Superior+ (Green)
Stats: Attack +12, Mana Limit +100, Casting Speed +5%
---
Lightweight Material: Staff weight reduced by 20%
Authentic Flair: Users from Little River get an additional +5 attack power when using this staff (Unique Passive)
---
A gift from an aging mage who prefers to remain anonymous.]
Murphy scrutinized the staff closely this time, identifying it as the authentic one-of-a-kind "village's finest" from classic adventuring tropes.
"Rest assured, if the child has a knack for magic, I'll personally bequeath this staff to her," he promised.
With the staff secured and Pepe tagging along, Murphy bid farewell to Little River.
---
I am not built for childcare! Murphy cried silently to himself.
Six hours since leaving Little River, he felt the gaps in his knowledge about the human kingdom all too clearly. As a village girl, Pepe's stream of questions was relentless—from who ranked higher, a Count or a Duke, to how many wives His Majesty had.
With the girl’s chatter incessant, all that was missing from their quasi-pilgrimage was a lazy, gluttonous pig. Murphy half-wished he could turn west and head for the demon kingdom to plead for wisdom from the Demon Lord himself.
Even as a one-time visitor to the human kingdom, Murphy did his best to juggle Pepe's queries with his limited knowledge. Even he was mystified at times, reluctantly turning to the worldly Mr. Byron for help.
But facing the girl's endless interrogation, Murphy found his opportunity at dusk. He hastened to light a fire and cook dinner, claiming exhaustion from the previous day's chase to swiftly fall into sleep mode.
The next morning, after breakfast around the dying embers, Pepe perked up and looked ready to launch into another round of questions. Sensing trouble, Murphy quickly posed his own, "Pepe, did the chief give you any instructions before you left?"
"Yes, he told me to be good and to drink plenty of hot water…" Pepe counted off the chief's words on her fingers.
"Anything else? Like what you should do in the future." Murphy prodded gently.
"Well, he did say if I had the talent for magic, you'd take me on as your apprentice."
"Excellent! I believe you have great magical potential. From now on, you are my first apprentice," Murphy declared decisively—no lie there. Deeming her just an ordinary human girl, he was confident that with his power, he could train even the most unmagical person into a respectable mage.
"So, as your master, it's my duty to teach. Right?"
"Yes, Master."
"First lesson: Silence is the foundation of a mage's insight. If you want to be a great mage, you must observe more and speak less. You asked a lot of questions yesterday; I’d rather you learn by watching. Understand?"
"Um... Yes, watch more, talk less, find my own answers."
"That's the spirit. Let's practice silence starting now."
"As you wish, Master."
For the rest of the day, Pepe was notably quieter, earnestly observing everything around her. Buster, by default, became the most talkative member of their troupe. The uneventful day gave way to an evening by the campfire, nibbling on flatbread and wild rabbit courtesy of Buster, before settling down by the dying flames (probably).
At midnight, Pepe, with only her head poking from her rudimentary sleeping bag, opened her eyes and glanced at the slumbering Murphy. Amid soft rustling, she reached out and pinched Murphy's cheek.
"It feels so real—Master, how do you disguise yourselves as humans so convincingly?"