Chapter 69: The First Adventurer Team!

The adventurer group consisted of only six members, yet each possessed two horses—fine northern warhorses, no less. For their profession, this seemed almost extravagant, but it also underscored their formidable strength.

After circling the river bend, the party chose not to enter the village but instead made camp on the riverbank between the settlement and the southern gate. At the southern end of the river bend peninsula, where the canal flowed into the river, only a strip of land less than twenty meters wide connected them to the outside world, bordered on the inner side by a four-to-five-meter slope.

Here, Urien had erected a gate, placed wooden barricades, and stationed a few militia for guard duty. Though the defenses were barely adequate and there was no intention yet to levy tolls, the setup served at least to deter those with ill intentions. It gave the impression of strict vigilance, enough to dissuade many would-be intruders.

Both sides of Leo’s soul brimmed with curiosity about the adventurers of this fantasy world. Like a child drawn to excitement, he took his little mouse and hurried over to watch.

Six small tents had already been pitched. A few meters away, freshly felled trees had been hammered into hitching posts, and twelve warhorses were tied in a pleasing, orderly row. An elderly man, well past fifty, was feeding them hay.

Leo, who owned no horse himself, felt a particular fondness and couldn’t help saying, “The manor has a stable; squeeze a bit and there’s room for them. In this cold, letting the warhorses freeze overnight is a pity.”

The old man, still holding a handful of hay, looked Leo up and down and scoffed, “Can you make that call?”

In this world, the attitude of knightly lords toward adventurers was akin to that of a town council toward street loafers—naturally opposed, mutually disdainful. Unless the adventurer group was renowned and well-connected locally, most were seen by lords as unruly troublemakers. The fact that the lord hadn’t found a reason to expel them already was generosity enough.

Leo still wore his tattered linen shirt, oblivious to the biting spring wind, a stark contrast to the little girl beside him swaddled in snow bear fur. His golden hair had been roughly chopped short, and he leaned casually against the girl, standing without proper posture, the picture of a lazy, idle youth.

To others, he appeared just another country boy idly wandering.

Leo boasted, “Of course! Around here, my word carries the most weight!”

The old man shook his head, “I don’t believe you.”

“Uncle Pitt, since he says so, why not ask the local lord?” came a clear voice from one of the tents. A chestnut-haired young woman emerged from the adventurers' camp.

This was a fresh-faced maiden, slightly older than Olivia. She wore a deep brown cowboy hat, an exquisite yellow leather jacket cinched at the waist, and beneath the intricate laces at her chest and sides, a snowy white blouse, its collar and cuffs edged with lace. Her lower half was clad in thick denim and high leather boots, accentuating her long legs.

Leo nearly thought a western cowgirl had crossed over into this world, or perhaps she was simply playing the heroine of a Caribbean pirate tale. Yet such finery belonged on a city stage; in the wild, it would turn from phoenix to chicken in no time. Not to mention, with all those complicated laces and leather, it must take an hour just to dress or undress.

Noticing Leo’s appraising gaze, the maiden—confident in her sharp, capable adventurer’s attire—allowed his bold scrutiny. She had met many such brash, impulsive country youths.

“It’s not necessary. Northern warhorses are not so delicate,” Old Pitt mused for a moment, then refused Leo and his companion’s suggestion. Sending the horses to the lord’s stable was easy enough, but retrieving them later—who would the warhorses belong to then? Seasoned adventurer Pitt wasn’t afraid of local knightly lords, but preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Unlike Pitt’s coldness, the “sharp, capable” maiden seized the chance to strike up conversation with the locals. “Hello, I’m Denise.”

“Hello, I’m Leo.”

“Nice to meet you, Leo. Are you familiar with the local lord? Could you introduce me?”

Leo beckoned, “Very familiar! Follow me.”

The other four adventurers, each with their own distinct form, were gathered at the camp center, preparing a bonfire while watching the exchange. The giant Barrett, towering over two meters, joked to the young ranger Lynch beside him, “Hurry up and chase after her, your sweetheart’s gone off with someone else.”

Lynch smiled shyly, ignoring the jibe. These rural youths were just like he had been before leaving his village—eager to impress the fairer sex, bold enough to face the lord’s chilly reception. In the end, neither side would be pleased, perhaps earning nothing but a beating. No threat at all!

Leo led the adventurer Denise to the manor gate, where they found Urien basking in the sun on a chair.

“There, that’s our lord. Ask whatever you like.”

Denise thanked Leo with a smile, then bowed to Urien. “Greetings, my lord.”

“Hello, adventurer.” Urien, unwilling to rise, lounged in his chair, looking down at Denise. “What brings you here?”

“It’s like this: our adventurer group plans to explore Wolf-Driving Plain. We need some preliminary reconnaissance, so we’ll be staying in your domain for a while, and would like to purchase some essential supplies—food, fodder, and so on.”

“No problem.” Urien pointed to Leo, “Just speak to him.”

Denise looked at Leo in surprise, then asked, “My lord, do you have any maps of the area? Preferably toward Wolf-Driving Plain to the north. If so, I’d be happy to buy one.”

Urien looked at Leo, “Do we have a map of Wolf-Driving Plain?”

“No.”

Urien turned to Denise. “No.”

Denise glanced at Leo again. “My lord, is there a guide here familiar with the terrain of Wolf-Driving Plain? I can pay for their services.”

Urien looked at Leo. “Do we have a guide who knows Wolf-Driving Plain?”

“No.”

Urien told Denise, “No.”

Denise, growing impatient, stared at Leo, feeling she was being mocked. Who was the real lord here?

“Don’t look at me,” Leo spread his hands helplessly. “He’s the lord. I’m the local.”

Denise, frustrated, said, “If you have a proper map, I’m willing to pay five gold coins. If you have a suitable guide, I’ll offer one gold coin per day! If not, our group will have to manage on our own…”

Before she could finish, Urien tumbled from his chair, shouting, “Yes, yes, yes! We have everything! The best maps! The best guides! Guaranteed satisfaction!”