Chapter 3: The Night's Farce

The weather in the latter half of the Month of Passion (June) was already sweltering. Sweat streamed ceaselessly from the foreheads of Joanna and Betty flanking either side of the carriage, trickling down their faces like tiny brooks. Their backs were soaked through beneath their clothes, though the leather armor they wore over them concealed any telltale transparency.

Yet despite this, the two fair-skinned, slender women — who owed their delicate appearance to elven blood — uttered not a single complaint, standing firm as guards on either side of the carriage. Up ahead, Simon had already driven off several wild beasts charging down from the mountainside, drawing a nod of approval even from Lucian, who occasionally paused his arcane analysis to rest. They truly deserved the recommendation of Hensen the tavernkeeper as the finest local adventurers.

Meanwhile, Chris — the self-proclaimed "real man" who had been boastfully recounting his past adventures and training exploits — had wilted like an eggplant after frost, trailing along listlessly without even the energy to say a word.

Inside the carriage, Lucian kept his eyes closed in rest while Lina remained quiet and taciturn, occasionally soothing the child when it began to cry. Wyse several times tried to strike up a conversation but found no willing partner, so he resignedly pulled out his music score from his luggage and sat reading in silence.

Time passed quickly, and the sky gradually darkened. Around seven in the evening, with Lucian's approval, Simon chose a sheltered hollow in a cliff face to make camp.

Through the efforts of the three adventurers, three tents were erected with the carriage as the centerpiece: one for the three ladies, one shared by Simon and the coachman, and one reserved for Wyse alone. Lucian would sleep inside the carriage.

Watching the three adventurers bustling about with a leisurely smile from beside the carriage, Lucian felt genuinely grateful for money. If he ever wanted to travel alone, it would be best to wait until he became a mid-rank mage and learned "Mage's Hut," a third-circle arcane spell.

Once the campfire was lit, the pot set up, and food put on to simmer, Simon and his companions finally had a moment's respite. The two women went to the nearby stream to freshen up, while Simon settled beside the carriage to chat with Lucian and Wyse about the legends of dark mages and vampires in the central-southern regions of the continent.

"They say that during the Dark Age, this land truly belonged to a dark mage — but he was eventually purified by the Church," Lucian recalled the history books he had read in Natasha's study at the Ratasha Palace. "Who would have thought so many legends still lingered."

Simon proved more talkative than his appearance suggested, chuckling: "The more mysterious something is, the more people want to know about it and spread the tale. Besides, it's useful for scaring children who refuse to go to sleep at night."

"Every small town has a church, actually — but most of the common folk enjoy scaring themselves," Wyse remarked dismissively of the dark mage and vampire legends.

In the course of their conversation, the two women gradually returned. Their freshly washed flaxen hair hung loose over their shoulders, damp and slightly tousled, carrying a subtle allure — though Betty, a sixteen-year-old half-elf who had not yet fully blossomed, could not quite match her older sister in charm.

A piercing whistle suddenly rang out, dripping with flirtatious intent. It came from two Bards camped not far away, with Chris the squat, stocky man having already joined their company.

One of the Bards picked up a seven-stringed frame harp and struck up a passionate, romantic ballad, his gaze burning toward the two women. It was simply a Bard's instinct.

Joanna, long accustomed to such scenes, merely cast an amused sideways glance before sitting down beside her husband Simon, stirring the vegetable soup and bread simmering in the pot. Betty, however, was rather less composed. Flushed with embarrassment and indignation, she glared across at them several times — which only elicited even more fervent playing, as the second Bard joined in as well.

"You had best quiet down," Simon warned the two Bards in a low voice. Had it not been for the contracted mission, he would have drawn his sword and walked over by now.

Simon's brawny arms and tall, imposing frame carried considerable intimidation. Even though the two Bards themselves possessed decent strength, they weighed the odds and chose to stop.

Chris grumbled: "Simon, my friends playing and singing is their own business — what right have you to tell them to be quiet? With me, Chris, here, I absolutely will not allow you to use your strength to bully people." As he spoke, he flexed his muscles and flaunted the two-handed greatsword that stood taller than he did.

Chris's reputation among adventurers was considerable, and he had once trained a knight, so Simon replied with caution: "Chris, you had best watch yourself — wait until this contracted mission is concluded." With a mission in hand, the employer's wishes came first.

Lucian watched the familiar spectacle of rogues flirting with beauties with amusement, momentarily forgetting to speak. Betty gave a small hmph: "Because they play so terribly — that's why they should be quiet."

"Terribly? Little girl, you think you play better than us?" The first Bard's expression darkened. Even a pretty face could not license such slander against his most prized skill!

Betty had spoken out of anger, and the Bard's retort left her momentarily speechless. But the girl refused to concede. Her eyes darted left and right until they landed on Wyse, and remembering he was heading to Cosse City to study music, she pointed at him without thinking: "Our Mr. Wyse here plays a hundred times better than you!"

Only after the words left her mouth did she realize that Wyse was one of their employers — how could she drag him into this? She immediately sent apologetic glances in his direction.

Wyse gave a gentle nod, indicating he understood her impetuousness.

Over there, the Bard eyed Wyse with amusement: "Him? An ordinary traveler plays better than a Bard like me? If he truly can, then I'll apologize to you right away, little lady — and whenever I see you, I'll never play again."

Wyse did not respond to the challenge, merely watching the argument with the same calm, faintly amused expression as Lucian.

Seeing that Wyse seemed unwilling to step forward, the Bard and Chris burst into loud, jeering laughter, leaving Betty red-faced and stamping her feet, her eyes pleading toward Wyse.

Simon turned his gaze to Lucian in silent question. Receiving a nod of approval, he reached for the longsword at his back.

At that moment, Wyse rose to his feet and smiled mildly: "I am only at the very beginning of my musical journey — but no gentleman can refuse a beautiful lady's request. I suppose I shall have to give it a try."