Under the dimming sunlight, a freight wagon trudged along a desolate hill path towards the east; a rugged road forged purely by the trampling of Goblins and beasts posed a substantial challenge to the rickety old vehicle. Two large bundles of beast skins were huddled in the canvas top load compartment, with three men and a woman situated in different directions.
A passing high-status priest would witness a bizarre sight: an unidentifiable beast, three lord-level beasts, and a human knight less than ten levels in a dilapidated carriage pulled by two skeletal horses.
Three hours had passed since leaving the Goblin caves, and the female knight, still recovering from more than two days of hunger, was endearingly nibbling on hardtack. The young succubus, naming no prior human interactions, was on alert, feigning sleep while scrutinizing the female knight. Byron was focused on driving under Murphy's suggestion, entirely oblivious about the happenings behind him.
Therefore, the burden of communication with the human naturally fell on Murphy's shoulders. Murphy was noting landmarks and sights along the road on a sheepskin notebook. An activity hardly needed given his abilities, he did it merely for enjoyment and immersion. The dead silence, disrupted by the distressed screams of the worn-out axle, Murphy attempted several starts of conversation, but the female knight would only briefly glance while nibbling her food. He wondered, wouldn't knocking her unconscious and letting her naturally wake up during the ride make for a more immersive experience? Murphy's thoughts curiously explored strange scenarios until a different sound caught his attention.
Looking towards its source, Murphy noticed the female knight's face turning red, as she choked on the hardtack, pleading eyes towards Tyre, who was convincingly feigning sleep, ignoring her desperate calls for help. Without a second thought, Murphy handed her his water sack, which finally ignited effective communication with the human.
---
Seventeen-year-old Charlene Baker was full. She had been gnawing on the hardtack for nearly three hours and had expected it to last indefinitely until an unforeseen future arrived.
The origin of everything started ten days ago when Charlene kindled a raging fury against the Skeleton Legion after reading a war memoir written one hundred and fifty years ago. "Damn Skeleton beasts, disgusting to turn victims into their kind."
As a distinguished member of the Baker family, she was bestowed with defending the human kingdom's borders against the southern skeletons. Consequently, she was allowed to read war-related books and despised the demon tribes, despite never having seen any lower level demons before. The Boneless Graveyard and skeleton soldiers were still present; the incessant supply of skeletal bone powder in the royal city was adequate evidence.
Fired up after reading the memoir, Charlene decided to vent her anger on the skeletons in the Boneless Graveyard. However, her grandfather caught her while she was donning the armor. After sincere apologies and promises, she was spared the punishment of imprisonment. That very night, she slipped out of the city, armed with her sword and armor, embarking toward the Boneless Graveyard.
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Transitioning into beast territory armed merely with a large sword was risky. On the second day post her secret exit, Charlene realized that she had forgotten to take along something called a "map." On the fourth day, she discovered her route to demon territory was a tad longer than anticipated. Her ration of hardtack and water was on the verge of depletion. On the sixth day, an out-of-water, out-of-food Charlene sadistically discovered that she had apparently been wandering in circles. Luckily, a not-so-wide grove of trees was not too far ahead. On the eighth day, a ravenous Charlene spotted three wild fruits resting on a nearby grassland and recklessly sprinted towards them...
When the Goblin patrol came to harvest the trap, the semi-full girl was sound asleep in the trap pit. There was a minor friction between one party shouting "thieves always escape" and the other party just waking from a satisfying sleep.
Reflecting on her experiences for the past ten days, Charlene realized the importance of having a map when traveling. Thinking about being saved by two kind boys (not including middle-aged Byron) made her feel ecstatic. She had only read such scenarios in intriguing storybooks and illustrated books. Due to the world's peace, the content of these books had become repetitive. If she could convert this experience into a literary work... yes, the focus must be on the "rescue"... it would certainly...
The unfocused girl was successfully suffocated by the hardtack, her face turning red as she signaled for help. Her pleading gaze shot towards the oddly endearing young man, but he looked sleepy and failed to receive her tender distress signal. At that moment, the odd merchant passed her a water sack, defusing the imminent crisis.
The infinite hardtack cycle concluded, and as a well-educated noble adolescent, Charlene tended to answer questions in conversation rather than continually asking them. After giving her gratitude, Charlene anticipated the merchant's proactive conversation, her thoughts actively conspiring:
Three men doing business in the desolate hills; their identity is not simplistic; moreover, their levels are definitely higher than mine, probably around ten levels, no, no, they spoke equally to the Goblins during the trade, so they should be around twelve or thirteen levels. Why wouldn't they become adventurers with such strength? It's strange; it would be great if I could befriend them, especially the snoozing one who doesn't look bizarre and is quite good-looking; I don't even know what his name is...
Drowned in tangled thoughts, the girl heard the strange merchant say, "This sack of water... costs one gold coin."
---
Unable to determine an appropriate response, Murphy chose an approach that fits his disguised identity: discussing money.
Although money-talk damages feelings, there were no feelings to hurt when you've known someone for less than four hours, so it was an opportune moment to get down to business. Moreover, Murphy did not demand immediate payment. Judging by the girl’s armor and sword, she did not come from a common household. All Murphy had to do was keep a tally, and when they reach the girl's home, he could seduce those prideful nobles to spill some information using a bit of discount. Punching in this combination ensured not only profit but also valuable information; it was practically a business with no upfront cost.
Somewhat expected, Murphy heard the girl shriek, "One gold coin? You are a swindler! A copper coin can fill a large bucket of water in a public well guarded by humans in Viscount Baker territory!"
Murphy shrugged, "Look around, do you see any wells here? You find it expensive, so do I. Just make sure not to be the type who drinks the water and then curses the seller."
This response angered the "beauty equates with justice" girl, letting her resort to resuming her hidden glances at the napping Tyre to recover her mood.
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Current location: Periphery of Desolate Hills.
Days left to reach "Baker Viscount Territory": Three.