Serten, the village head of Ironsworth, bowed deeply before Adrien and Vera. The duo winced as the sun struck Serten's bald head, reflecting a glare so bright it nearly blinded them.
"You have our eternal gratitude," Serten said. "You saved our lives."
Adrien waved a hand dismissively, speaking hastily. "There is no need for that, Elder. We only did what was asked of us, and even then, we would have failed if the others hadn't arrived."
Adrien looked back toward the cart, which was now piled high with Strigoi corpses. The villagers had been grateful enough to help them secure the monsters' bodies, packing them onto a heavy cart pulled by a pair of strong oxen. The locals had happily volunteered the beasts to help transport the loot to Ashfall Frontier.
Off to the side, ValiantWarrior watched them. This was the same man who had tried to sabotage Adrien's defence plan, and the same person who had attempted to block Adrien and Vera from claiming their fair share of the loot. He glared at Adrien from a distance, his fist clenched.
"Leave it," a companion muttered beside him. "You know he's stronger than us."
ValiantWarrior's anger burned hot, and the humiliation he had suffered was too much to swallow, but as he stared, a malicious idea took root.
'What if I report him?' he thought, 'A cheating accusation, and anyone playing the game like that has to be exploiting a bug.'
Unbeknownst to Adrien and Vera, ValiantWarrior immediately opened his menu to lodge the complaint, but before he could finish, everyone's attention was suddenly gripped by a massive flashing notification.
———————————[ World Announcement ]———————————
Congratulations to Lord [REDACTED] for becoming the1stplayer to lay the foundation of their Empire.
May their reign be long and true.
——————————————————————————————
"Well, look at that," Adrien muttered. "Lord Redacted is certainly moving up in the world."
Vera playfully nudged his shoulder. "Looks like that player chose to hide their name."
"A wise move," Adrien replied, "Who knows what kind of trouble publicly disclosing your name would bring at that level? But enough of that, I think it's time we hit the road."
Adrien and Vera mounted their horses and took the lead, and behind them trailed three oxen carts. Two were heavy with the grim cargo of Strigoi corpses, while the third carried a group of players who had also decided to head to Ashfall.
Having finally reached level ten, they were ready for the frontier, and among them were Firestarter and MeiMei.As the caravan got moving, Adrien opened his character menu to check his progress. After a moment of quick deliberation, he spent his available skill points, allocating one to Marksmanship and one to Blades.
━━━━━━━━━━━ [ PLAYER STATUS ] ━━━━━━━━━━━
Name: Adrien
Level:10 (23%)
Race: Unknown
--
[ VITAL STATS ]
HP:260/260
MP: 125/125
--
[ ATTRIBUTES & SKILLS ]
Prowess: 2
==> Blades [1] || Heavy Weapons [0] || Polearms [0]
Precision: 3
==> Marksmanship [1] || Ballistics [0] || Throwing [0]
Endurance: 3
==> Athletics [0] || Riding [0] || Fortitude [0]
Cunning: 1
==> Reconnaissance [0] || Tactics [0] || Subterfuge [0]
Authority: 1
==> Charm [0] || Command [0] || Commerce [0]
==> Cognition: 1
Arcana [0] || Engineering [0] || Logistics [0]
--
[ Unassigned Points ]
Attribute Points: 4
Skill Points: 1
--
[ PROFICIENCIES ]
Tactical Marksman
Heavy Vehicle Piloting
Mining
Riding
--
"Tweaking your stats, Adrien?" Vera asked, glancing over at him.
"Yeah," Adrien replied, closing the floating menu, "Just added a few points here and there. To be honest, I really just want to log off and take a nap."
"Well, at the speed this caravan is moving, it's going to be a while before we reach Ashfall," Vera said, adjusting her reins. "I'm going to go talk to MeiMei and the others to see if I can fish for some intel. Want to come?"
"Go ahead, but I'll pass for now. Maybe later. I need to keep an eye out for bandits, who knows when they might try to ambush us."
Vera's face scrunched up in distaste, "Are you seriously that bloodthirsty? We literally just finished a fight, and—"
"Vera, just because we fought off the Strigoi doesn't mean the local bandits are going to take pity on us and leave us alone," Adrien cut in mildly. "Besides, we need more money, and bandits are basically high-risk, high-reward cash cows."
With the caravan safely arriving in Ashfall, Adrien exhaled in relief at the city gates.
"I knew it," the Guard Captain said, stepping forward with a shake of his head. "With a caravan this size, did you go and raid an entire bandit stronghold this time, Adrien?"
Adrien cracked a smile and smirked at the Captain. "I wish we were that lucky. I honestly miss the kind of coin those bandits drop. But no, this time we went to Ironsworth and ran into a bit of a monster problem."
"A monster problem?" the Captain pressed, his eyebrows knitting together.
Adrien dismounted from his horse and gestured for the Captain to follow him toward the lead oxen cart. When Adrien pulled back the canvas cover, the Captain let out a sharp gasp, taking a step back."Strigoi? Where on earth did you encounter these?"
"Ironsworth sent a request to the Mercenary Guild to hunt down a beast targeting their livestock," Adrien explained. "When we arrived, we found out a little girl named Misha had just been dragged off by it. We stayed up the entire night and managed to kill the Strigois that ambushed the village. They broke in through the old well."
"The well?"
"Yeah. It turned out the well was connected to an underground cavern where the pack was nesting, and after a massive fight, we cleared them all out."
"This is grave news," the Captain said, his expression hardening. "I'll need to inform both the Baroness and the Vicar immediately, as Undead of this calibre mean the area needs immediate cleansing and purification."
The Captain's eyes then drifted past Adrien, landing on the players riding in the third cart. "And who are they?"
"Adventurers looking for work," Adrien replied. "They helped us defend Ironsworth, and they've come to Ashfall to join the local guilds and undergo their baptism at the church."
"I see. They'll need entry permits first," the Captain nodded, gesturing toward the guard post. "Tell them to line up and approach the gate one by one."
Later, after receiving entry permits, Adrien and Vera navigated Ashfall's bustling, muddy streets. They reached the Mercenary Guild courtyard and found a reception committee already assembled.
"What is it with you two? Are you physically incapable of a normal quest?" Marko groaned, rubbing his temples. "I sent you out to collect a simple shipment of coal, and you brought back a pile of bandit corpses. Now I send you on a routine pest problem, and you roll up with a cart full of bloody Strigoi. Do you actively hunt for trouble?" Although Marko complained loudly, there was no real heat in his voice.
Vera flashed a brilliant, unbothered grin and leaned against her horse's saddle. "What can I say, Branch manager? Adrien and I are just incredibly lucky."
Vuković, completely ignoring the banter, stepped forward with elegant grace and gave a stiff, formal bow, as his sharp eyes locked onto Adrien, "My lady has already been informed of the situation in Ironsworth. She wishes to speak with you regarding the undead presence on her borders. Please make your way to the Manor at your earliest convenience."
Before Adrien could answer, the heavy, cool air of the courtyard was violently shattered by the explosive crack of a leather whip.
The sound echoed off the stone walls, instantly silencing the chatter of the nearby adventurers. Everyone turned toward the street, where a grotesque and deeply unsettling procession was grinding to a halt.
Dragging a massive, overly ornate gilded rickshaw through the dirt was a line of human beings reduced to living corpses. They were emaciated to the point of horror, their skin stretched so tightly over their ribs and collarbones that they looked like walking skeletons. Dirty linen blindfolds were wrapped crudely around their eyes, caked with dried blood and pus from where their eyelids had been roughly stitched shut.
Their skeletal hands were permanently bound together at the wrists with rusted iron spikes, forced into a perpetual, mocking posture of prayer.
Worse still were the heavy iron chains wrapped around their torsos. The links were studded with jagged, inward-facing thorns that bit deeply into their pale flesh with every agonising step they took. Dark, infected wounds wept fluid down their shivering bodies, and their only clothing consisted of tattered, filth-smeared rags barely covering their modesty. They didn't even look human anymore; they moved like mindless, broken cattle, their bare feet bleeding into the dirt as they strained against the immense weight of the carriage.
Seated high atop the plush velvet cushions of the rickshaw was a stark contrast to the misery below. The man was dressed in the ostentatious, gold-embroidered robes of a high-ranking clergyman. He was profoundly fat, his multiple chins and heavy cheeks jiggling with every minor movement of the carriage. His eyes were small, greedy slits that looked down upon the crowded street with absolute, unadulterated contempt. In his left hand, he casually held the leather reins looped around the spiked collars of his human cattle; in his right, he lazily twirled a long, blood-stained bullwhip.
The moment the carriage stopped, both Marko and Vuković immediately dropped into deep, deferential bows. The easygoing atmosphere of the guild courtyard vanished, replaced by a suffocating tension.
"Reverend Zoran, Vicar of the Church of the Golden Hand," Marko announced, his voice tight and carefully measured. "I bid you welcome to the Mercenary Guild. How may we serve the light of the Church today?"