With a deafening crash, the heavy front door of the Dragon Fang Tavern was wrenched open and slammed against the wall. The noisy, boisterous atmosphere fell silent in an instant.
Drunks with flushed faces, adventurers and mercenaries feasting on the tavern's famous roast and guzzling ale while laughing and chatting—all of them instinctively turned toward the door. There, in the fierce midday sunlight, a handsome, composed young man with black hair was walking in at an unhurried pace. He wore a neat, well-fitted light blue shirt, and at his waist hung a splendid, ornate longsword—more decorative than practical.
Sharp whistles rang out in succession. The drunken sots hiccupped and jeered: "What's this? A dashing young noble lord. Can that pretty little toy of his even kill a stray dog?"
"Another fool poisoned by those knightly romances, thinking he can venture out into the world with a ceremonial longsword." The adventurers and mercenaries, though not as brazen as the drunkards, still whispered among themselves about the noble youth. As members of the lower and middle classes, they harbored toward the nobility not only awe and aspiration but also an inexpressible jealousy—especially when they saw useless wastes living lofty lives on nothing but the glory of their ancestors.
Lucian paid them no heed and calmly made his way toward the bar.
After more than three wonderful months of travel, Lucian had arrived yesterday evening at Dragon Fang, a border town in the duchy of Ghiberti, located in the south-central part of the continent.
A muscular bald adventurer glanced at Lucian's arms—neither slender nor what anyone would call brawny—and raised his own bare forearm extending from his leather armor, flexing his elbow to show off the dense, bulging muscle beneath: "I'll bet those pathetic skinny arms of his don't even have the strength of a Knight Squire. Tsk, kids full of fantasies never awaken their bloodline power through adventure the way they do in those knightly romances—instead they just become prey for bandits, wolves, or goblins."
"Hmph, you think a knight's power is that easy to obtain? I've been adventuring for over a decade and I'm still only at the level of a High-level Knight Squire." A squat, stocky man who seemed to have some dwarven blood spoke with smug pride. "Of course, if he accepted my guidance, there might be hope for awakening his bloodline power. You know, Viscount Newell of Ero City became a knight under my training."
The vast majority of adventurers here harbored the lifelong dream of awakening their bloodline to become knights, so though they had heard Chris boast about this many times before, they couldn't help casting envious, longing, and eager glances his way—which only swelled his pride further.
Lucian paid no attention to the whispered commentary. He walked up to the tavern owner and sat down on a tall stool. The owner was a robust, elderly man with grizzled hair.
"Honored guest, what will it be? Fine wine or roast?" The tavern owner, his grizzled hair and weathered eyes carrying the weight of years, asked courteously—showing no discomfort despite how out of place Lucian's attire and bearing were in this establishment.
Lucian gave a slight nod: "A cup of water, a portion of roast, and a salad. Also, I'd like to inquire about some things."
The south-central part of the continent was ringed by mountains and riddled with deep valleys, its vast stretches of forest largely untouched by human hands. Unlike other regions, however, it lacked rich natural resources—only timber and ordinary beasts could be found there, making it the most barren and backward area on the entire continent. It was rare to find a single literate person in any given village. Moreover, situated in a relatively safe zone where no wars had erupted for many years, even those who managed to awaken their bloodline in the countries here could only obtain the title of knight—they could not directly receive fiefs or noble status and had to accumulate enough Gold Thalers and purchase sufficient land before they could be formally enfeoffed.
The County of Ghiberti was like the other nations of the south-central continent: the nobility could still maintain a respectable life through lumber mills, farmland, and fresh game, but the common folk were far worse off than in Altor. As a result, apart from the major cities, even in a border town like Dragon Fang, the Adventurers' Guild operated directly out of the tavern. And from what Lucian had learned, the tavern owner before him doubled as the local head of the Adventurers' Guild—making him the best person to approach for information.
"Wow, plain water—what a pure, innocent young lad."
"I doubt he's even started growing hair yet. A little kid like this dares to go adventuring to awaken his bloodline power?"
The drunks burst into roaring laughter, but Lucian remained unmoved, gazing calmly at the tavern owner.
"Not a problem, honored guest. What would you like to know? I'll charge based on the value of the information." The tavern owner ordered a server to prepare the roast and salad while personally pouring a cup of plain water and handing it to Lucian.
Lucian moistened his lips with the water: "I'd like to find out where Taylor Hunter and his wife are currently living. He was originally an official in the town of
The Hunters were the parents of the little girl ghost that Lucian had encountered in the spectral town of
The tavern owner shook his head without hesitation: "That sort of small matter isn't within our intelligence network. But I'll tell you for free—the administrative officer of Baron