Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 295 - 294: Cedar Town

Three minutes later, Amber stood in front of Gawain, rubbing her head with a look of resentment: "I was just joking with you, did you really have to knock me..."

Gawain rubbed his fingers and casually said: "I’m used to knocking Rebecca on the head, not quite used to your untouched head..."

Hearing this attitude, Amber knew her plan to ask for medical expenses was futile, so she glanced up at Gawain: "By the way, what was that just now? You suddenly fell asleep—don’t tell me that was meditation, I’m not a mage, but I’ve seen meditation before."

Gawain rubbed his forehead, recalling his experiences in the mind network, and suddenly asked: "How long did I ’sleep’ this time?"

"...About an hour?" Amber rolled her eyes and thought for a moment, "Hey, don’t change the subject, I’m asking you something important..."

"Only an hour..." Gawain frowned slightly, "The time ratio seems different from last time... Could it be that the deeper in the network, the slower time flows?"

He immediately dismissed this unsound theory in his mind: it shouldn’t be that time’s flow changes, but rather that the human brain’s processing speed in the virtual world and subjective time perception differ from reality, this ’acceleration’ phenomenon is common in dreams...

Amber noticed Gawain wasn’t paying attention to her and was muttering to himself, seemingly lost in thought, which made her puff out her cheeks a bit angrily, but she didn’t interrupt and waited quietly for Gawain to come back to his senses—she had noticed that Gawain seemed a bit distracted and dazed lately, likely related to the ’meditation’ he did for that hour earlier. Although Amber was usually carefree and clumsy, she knew when to weigh the pros and cons at critical moments.

A moment later, Gawain came back to his senses. After a brief hesitation, he decided not to tell Amber about the mind network.

It’s not that he didn’t trust this half-elf lady, but for safety reasons—the methods of the Eternal Sleepers are mysterious, and they have many ’divine arts’ that can unknowingly influence others’ minds without direct contact. Although those evil cult followers are currently intimidated by him, they don’t dare to act against him, but there’s no guarantee that one of them won’t try to probe the memories of people around him. Hence, until he is completely confident, he can’t expose the fact that he has successfully infiltrated the Eternal Sleepers’ mind network.

"I’m doing something very confidential that requires me to occasionally enter this special ’hibernation’ state," Gawain said to Amber, "One day I will tell you this secret, but I can’t right now."

Amber pouted, "Tch... acting all mysterious."

Gawain’s answer didn’t explain anything. Amber realized that this ’old man’ she dug up was likely plotting something again, and judging by his mysterious and cautious behavior, this scheme might be larger than ever before.

She was curious, but she decided not to ask.

Gawain saw Amber’s expression and nodded: as he understood, Amber, who seemed carefree, also had her own wisdom and rationality. This half-elf lady wouldn’t keep dwelling on this question.

"Help me get the unfinished acceleration track drawing from last time, it’s in the cabinet beside the left bookshelf," Gawain stretched and adjusted his sitting position behind the desk, "I suddenly had an epiphany in my dream earlier and thought of something that needs modifying..."

"What’s this ’epiphany’ you speak of! And looking at your exhausted face, are you sure you don’t need to rest? You’re going to continue drawing?"

"I need to draw it quickly, otherwise Kamel and Nicholas Egg will end up doing unnecessary work..."

Amber mumbled to herself as she walked towards the bookshelf, "If you keep going like this, you’ll die from exhaustion, I’m telling you... if you really die, I’ll have to dig a pit for you, and your two granddaughters might not even raise my pay..."

Gawain looked puzzled: "Why are you so obsessed with waiting to dig a pit for me after I die?"

"Obviously, since I dug you up in the first place, I see my tasks through to the end..."

Gawain felt he should’ve knocked her harder earlier—this half-elf’s head might not be as hard as Rebecca’s, but her mouth sure is asking for trouble!

At the same time, in the eastern part of the Dark Mountain Range, in the border town of Cedar Town.

This small town is one of the few settlements on the border between Anzu and Typhon, established by the Typhon Empire two hundred years ago as a resting place for hunters, travelers, and soldiers on the frontier. Over two hundred years, the town hasn’t grown prosperous; instead, due to the deteriorating relations between Typhon and Anzu in recent decades, it has become bleak and tense.

The winter nights always fall early. Under the dim sky, the small town is covered by snow from a few days ago. In many places, the snow is trampled into mud, making the town’s streets appear even more dirty and run-down. The desolate streets see few pedestrians; most of the town’s permanent residents are hiding at home from the harsh cold and northern wind. The only ones seen walking the streets, aside from the Typhon Empire’s patrolling soldiers, are mercenaries and adventurers, who hurry along without lingering too long—doing so would easily invite trouble.

Since relations between the two kingdoms have hit rock bottom, trade along this line has nearly come to a halt. The small town’s most important economic pillar has taken quite a blow. This winter’s snow and frost have been especially severe, and with East Wolf Fort’s ban on hunting in the southern and western part of the forest, life has become increasingly difficult. The only ones who dare to wander out at this time, aside from soldiers, are those "desperados" seizing the chaos of war to make a living here.

To the common townsfolk, mercenaries and free adventurers are no different from desperate criminals.

The only tavern in town is the sole lively place here. Before the night sky fully descended, it had already lit its bright lamps—semi-congealed oil made from a mix of flammable stone powder and animal fat grease, a new thing brought by soldiers from the east of the empire. Though these lamps give off an unpleasant smell when burned, their bright and lasting light and low cost make them popular among the lower classes.

Under the bright light of the "fat grease lamps," groups of mercenaries and adventurers gather in threes and fives in the tavern. They raise the foaming mugs of cheap ale and drink heartily, laughing loudly, paying no mind to the various foul odors permeating the tavern—a chaotic mix of disgusting scents where even the peculiar smell of burning oil grease goes unnoticed.

Amidst this chaotic, noisy environment, the tavern door suddenly swung open, and a tall figure in a cloak slipped inside, heading directly for the bar.

Cold wind followed the opening and closing of the wooden door, prompting grumbled curses from the group of mercenaries seated near the entrance. Other glances fell upon the cloaked figure—when the figure seated by the bar and removed their hood, revealing a beautiful elven face, several whistles echoed from various corners.

The beautiful elf huntress casually flicked her hand, and several throwing knives precisely embedded themselves on the table in front of each whistler. Then, with a wave of her hand, all the knives, guided by magic power, returned to her hand.

A Transcendent, high-level, in a bad mood.

With these three factors confirmed, everyone in the tavern quickly resumed their positions. Those drinking kept drinking, those bragging continued to brag, those shivering began to shiver; the atmosphere continued jovial and lively.

The tavern owner behind the bar merely watched it all with a cold eye. After the new guest settled down, he approached and asked, "The usual beer?"

This elf had been here once before, and even though it was only once, as a tavern owner, he had to remember the visitor’s face—especially since this was a particularly powerful individual, one that couldn’t be ignored.

"Beer," the elf huntress said with a voice that was particularly magnetic. Her golden hair cascaded down the sides of her face, obscuring parts of her expression, but her demeanor was somewhat gloomy. "I’ll pay for the damaged tables."

"Don’t mind it; there’ll always be someone placing knives in the tables," the tavern owner said with a smile as he slid a large wooden mug full of beer towards the huntress. "So, didn’t make it through the checkpoint?"

"Tightened security," the huntress replied, irked. "They’ve started requiring East Wolf Fort’s pass now..."

The tavern owner chuckled, "The situation is tense, after all."

"But didn’t they used to let us through with just mercenary documents or recent employment proof?" the huntress raised her eyes. "Since when do they need proof from East Wolf Fort?"

"This is a new rule," the tavern owner said. Though not a mercenary or adventurer himself, in his line of work—especially running a tavern at the border near East Wolf Fort—he needed to be well-informed. "They say it’s because East Wolf Fort was attacked, so the imperial soldiers started locking down the checkpoints now..."

"Attacked?" The huntress’s eyebrows shot up. "Has war with Anzu Kingdom started?"

"Not quite," the reply came not from the tavern owner but from an adventurer sitting nearby. This adventurer seemed eager—or perhaps simply wanted to appear chummy. He moved his drink closer to the elf, wearing a face that seemed to say, ’I’ve got the scoop.’ "They say it was attacked by a humanoid monster never seen before... East Wolf Fort suffered great losses; even the fortress walls cracked. The general there issued the lockdown order, and now every checkpoint on the border is tightly secured..."

"Humanoid monster!?" The elf’s surprise finally surfaced. "Where exactly did this monster come from?"

The adventurer, surprised by having successfully piqued the interest of this seemingly difficult-to-approach beautiful elf, poorly concealed his satisfaction as he continued with that ’I’ve got the scoop’ expression. "They say it came from the Dark Mountain Range, a creature unleashed by the Anzu Kingdom... But some say it escaped from the Gondor wasteland..."

"...This is a big problem..."

The beautiful elf ’lady’ huntress, Soldrin Frostleaf, realized that this time, she probably couldn’t pass through using her feminine disguise...