Chapter 8

The name "Hilton Express Hotel" represents the only inn and hotel in Poplar Town. First-time visitors are always surprised by the peculiarities of the place... several times.

Usually, the first surprise is due to the strange name of the shop, and the second is because of its guests—such a bustling place is rare even in the entire Western Sealed Region... and the number of adventurers is even more remarkable. The lobby here is always larger than expected, even larger than what can be seen at a glance—without the space for guest rooms, it exceeds the needs of a tavern in such a town, with a space of several hundred square feet, featuring a dozen or so six-foot round tables and over a hundred seats. Even in the usually quiet afternoon, more than half of the tables are already occupied by various people.

Apart from a few merchants and women dressed as prostitutes in the corners of the hall, most of them are armed with metal and muscle, rough laughter, and filthy curses.

Thus, the half-drunk clamor, the coquettish moans of the prostitutes, the chattering mixed with curses, and the clashing of metal... all blend together to form a unique atmosphere in the town. Even the clashing of sword sheaths and large shields, the fine friction of chainmail, and the clapping of iron gloves form notes louder than any instrument, but no one can distinguish them from the noise of various voices.

Only the creaking sound of the door opening brings a moment of calm to the originally noisy hall—

The sudden silence is like someone being choked after a moment of loud talk.

Four figures wrapped in long robes walked through the door... and the one in the lead caught everyone's attention...

Not tall or short, the grayish-white robe almost dragged on the ground, the metal shin guards gleamed with beautiful metal floral patterns. Similarly ornate metal extended from the top of the head, forming a smooth and flowing piece of armor that, along with the shadows, covered most of his face, leaving only a sharp, pale chin and a sneer frozen at the corner of his mouth.

He glanced around the hall indifferently, without a word, and placed one hand on his sword.

This proud gesture immediately drew several dozen cold, tangible gazes.

Like snakes, these gazes emerged from their respective shadows, sweeping over the bodies, waists, and packages of the few who had entered. An equal number of fiery, burning gazes boldly scanned the half-exposed handsome face... only a small portion of which belonged to actual women.

The valuable chainmail under the collar, the linen robe, and the finely forged long sword... trying to look experienced but still naive... a rookie. But a rookie with some status.

—The judgment was quick, followed by some speculation.

A noble? What is he doing here?

For the not-so-ancient Tuminis Kingdom, the desolate Silent Forest and the rocky wilderness are the playgrounds of adventurers, where they can fully showcase themselves, but this is also a place deeply detested by 'civilized' and 'upper-class' people—there are no familiar strict rules, laws, or morals here. Everything is dogma... the strong survive, the weak are devoured. The law of the jungle prevails here.

Of course, it's not strange for a few nobles to appear here.

Even nobles do not all have the right to own a fief and live a life of debauchery. Small families that have not produced any elites for three generations face the awkward problem of undistributed fiefs, and the non-mainline descendants can only seek other paths after coming of age... either serve a larger family, using their knowledge or manners to secure a barely decent position, or, like these people, rely on more martial training than the average person to seek opportunities for great wealth.

Thus, after a brief pause, the clamor rose again.

In fact, apart from these gazes, these few people did not cause much disturbance—what could catch the attention of veteran mercenaries, besides the glaring red blood, was only the glitter of gold. As for a pretentious pretty face... whether he was a fallen noble who still clung to his ridiculous arrogance, or a younger son of a large family who was bored and sought special thrills in adventure, it had nothing to do with them.

There were those who wanted to make a small fortune by taking advantage, but they knew this was not an ideal place—too many people and too many eyes meant too many wolves and too little meat...

Or perhaps someone wanted to teach these prejudiced knights a lesson? There was no rush—after all, the vast appetite of the Whispering Forest would eventually swallow those who did not meet its standards, leaving no trace.

This is Poplar Town, the only supply point around the Whispering Forest. If they became unwelcome, it would mean the loss of their main source of income.

"Is there a quieter place?"

Such gazes would not make anyone feel pleasant... so before the young companion's irritation erupted, the middle-aged man called Jude spoke first.

Unconsciously, he used a very polite tone—

This strange inn, while outstanding in scale, is only so within the northwest of the kingdom. In bustling cities, there are countless more luxurious establishments than this small shop, but the young waiter leading them used quite standard noble etiquette and spoke with a very clear and correct... even more pure than his own, Romanic accent of the Imperial Common Language.

This made the middle-aged man somewhat suspicious of the other's identity.

Although he looked ordinary...

An ordinary build, somewhat thin, just out of the awkward teenage years, his body and face were gradually stretching into a slender youth, with a black and thin face that still carried some youthful innocence... in such a remote area, people grow up more quickly, so a cursory look at his appearance made it hard to guess his age.

A not particularly striking dark brown... almost black hair, a typical feature of the Kokka people of the Western Sealed Region, his face was decent, his eyes, which squinted slightly when he smiled, were not small, and his facial features were clear, with a slightly upturned mouth that gave his face a certain inexplicable warmth. Looking at him for a long time, one might even overlook the few not-so-faint, crisscrossing scars on his cheeks.

But this was not particularly remarkable...

Perhaps it was because of that subtle, unique aura... his elegant tone, agile movements, and strong confidence.

He did not seem like a commoner who grew up in such a remote small town, but rather resembled the offspring of noble families in the middle-aged knight's memory—those who were not the so-called locust nobles, but the well-educated and well-bred children of prominent families.

Especially when he smiled, and those neat, white teeth... it was a masterpiece that even the nobles in the capital would admire.

"At Hilton Express Hotel, you will always find the most satisfactory."

Perhaps accustomed to all kinds of people, the young waiter only pulled the corners of his mouth and nodded enthusiastically, "Please follow me. There are some quiet spots on the second floor."

Then, he added a subtle whisper, "Gentlemen... it's best not to keep too much loose change on your waists here. The extra time it takes to get money, though troublesome, can at least avoid the trouble of losing it."

+——+

This so-called second floor was just a structure supported by wooden pillars, raised high above the hall, with the central part not separated from below. However, just a few feet in height difference created two distinctly different atmospheres—people always like to put themselves in a superior position, and this mentality will instinctively manifest as long as the conditions allow.

Especially the furnishings here were quite sincere—the gentle breeze from the red pine windows brought a sweet, incense-like scent, dispelling the choking smoke, body odor, and sweat, and the chaotic noise became slightly more peaceful. The carefully polished tables and chairs, and the simple decorations, exuded a touch of 'elegance,' making the faces of the few people present more relaxed.

Of course, the surprises did not end there.

In the eyes of the more refined 'upper-class' in the kingdom, the survivors in the poor and remote Western Sealed Region should have no civilization... but what appeared before the few guests was no less luxurious than any high-class area they remembered.

First, the clean and shiny brass cups and plates—complete sets of fine forks, spoons, and knives were placed on spotless white napkins, arranged meticulously.

Then, the red wine bottles in the copper basin, with fine ice cubes in the basin, made the dark red wine emit a delicate mist, spreading a sweet aroma in all directions—although it was not the finest wine, after such treatment, it looked no less appealing...

"Northern grape wine, though it cannot compare to the fine wines of the South, can still help alleviate the fatigue of your journey... please choose your favorite dishes."

The young waiter bowed slightly and presented a fine piece of tanned lamb skin.

"...What is this?"

Glancing over the beautifully written long names on the lamb skin, the young knight couldn't help but look up in surprise.

His voice was actually very pleasant, clear and correct, with a neutral softness characteristic of a teenager in transition, and a pronunciation style with a Southern noble accent, full of rhythm—just with a commanding, condescending tone that made it hard to adapt.

"Menu, sir. The list of all our dishes."

"I mean, can you provide all of these... everything on this list?"

"Yes, sir. At any time. Additionally, I personally recommend the fish-flavored... oh, cherry special, a limited-time specialty."

Even with the affirmative answer, the knight still seemed incredulous—not just him, the words on the lamb skin also made the middle-aged knight and his companions equally surprised. The twenty or so main dishes, mostly fresh meats, even included some refined items like lamb loin chops, not to mention the luxurious-sounding but unclearly named dishes like scallion-braised ox tongue. The dozens of set meals also included various meats.

However, in common sense, this was almost impossible.

In the Western Sealed Region, or most areas of the continent, cattle and sheep are usually used for milk and farming, rarely for food. Even if the local nobles' warehouses have some meat reserves, they mostly come from a few domesticated livestock on their fiefs, meat from hunters, or small domesticated animals... even so, most of it is heavily salted, almost hard enough to be used as a weapon—

Hard as salted meat, a joke used to describe weapons.

But here, these meats were so tender they almost melted on the tongue—the appetizer wine opened the appetite, and the main dishes followed, with a rich aroma that immediately captured everyone's sense of smell.

The steak was the best part of the loin, perfectly grilled, tender with just the right amount of chew, sweet and juicy... even though the cherry special had no trace of cherries, it did not make it any less appealing—the thick, almost dried sauce emitted a unique sweet and sour aroma, mixed with finely cut meat, carrots, and a bit of vegetable, creating a visually appealing mix of green, red, yellow, and white, enough to make anyone's mouth water just by looking at it.

And strangely, it did have a hint of fish flavor.

"Grilled lamb chops, black pepper steak, tricolor mushroom cream soup, cherry special... and finally, the house gift, watercress salad. Please enjoy..."

Placing the finely sliced fruit, the last dish, on the table, the young waiter bowed politely but did not leave, just slightly tilting his head, his gaze lingering on the wooden staff bent into several curious arcs leaning against the table.

A magical artifact.

Though it looked like a strange, metal-gleaming stick at first glance, if one tried to focus more attention on it, a subtle sting would make the observer involuntarily retreat.

Just like its owner—

The long black robe, marking the identity of a spellcaster, was so tightly wrapped that even in the bright light by the window, it still seemed like a deep shadow, enveloping the slender figure in a faint, almost invisible black mist, making people keep their distance.

...Yes, it was her.

Under the low black hood, darkness seemed to coalesce into a solid form, with only a sharp, pale chin protruding from the shadow, giving the face hidden in darkness a delicate softness—just a little, conveying much information.

"Interested in magic?"

The dark figure turned slightly, and a voice sounded, each word clear but somewhat stiff, yet exceptionally pleasant, like a series of bells echoing in a secluded valley, but also suffocatingly oppressive.

The young man's smile stiffened slightly...

In that deep darkness, everything might be equal—the smiling young man, the small, struggling insect, or the corpse eroded by death, all without any difference... the intangible, cold gaze seemed to penetrate his skin, pierce his defenses, and see the hidden desire in his heart.

But the smile did not fade much.

"Oh... please forgive me, it's rare to see a mage in such a small place." The young man's response was polite and humble, his eyes still on the staff: "Especially one as capable as you, Master." He added after a pause.

A simple, cliché compliment, not suitable for building rapport... but coming from him, it seemed sincere and comfortable—yet the other did not seem interested in further questioning, just letting the awkward silence linger.

After a moment, the young man sighed slightly and bowed to leave.

"An interesting place, interesting people..."

Glancing at the departing waiter, the traveler cloaked in black spoke lightly, the words still extremely simple, as if sparing them.

"Although we didn't reveal ourselves, we didn't hide our identities either. Is it possible the local lord has noticed us and is deliberately welcoming us quietly?" The middle-aged knight said, not stopping his beef-cutting, though it was not in line with noble etiquette.

"No traces of magical fluctuations."

"In that case... unless he can mobilize all the people along the way and has the help of one or two mages, I can't think of any reason for him to do so... so let's not worry about it." The middle-aged knight shook his head slightly, savoring his main course.

...

"Actually, it's Edward's special menu? You are truly lucky... even a viscount might not easily enjoy these dishes here... this is a priceless treasure!"

A voice suddenly came from behind a nearby pillar, interrupting the conversation, with a dramatic tone:

"After all, although these dishes are incredibly delicious, very few people who have enjoyed them have come out of the Whispering Forest alive..."