Chapter 22 — All Roads Lead to One City

Chapter 22 — All Roads Lead to One City

Oh! I can see a bridge! That means just a couple more hours and I’ll reach the village.

As I got closer, an unpleasant stench hit me. It grew stronger with every step, burning my nostrils. The smell of rotting meat.

“Ah, damn…” I grimaced. “I completely forgot about that.”

Right. Up the slope, deeper in the woods, there should still be the huge carcass of that black boar. Looks like it was left there to rot. I’d assumed scavengers would’ve taken care of it by now… but apparently there aren’t that many around here. Not surprising, really—the body was enormous.

Good thing I dragged it deeper into the forest back then instead of leaving it near the river. I don’t even want to imagine how much worse the smell would be.

I quickened my pace to get past that stretch as fast as possible.

I reached the bridge, turned left, and followed the road toward the village.

Two hours later I stepped out of the forest path and saw familiar houses ahead.

Judging by the sun, it was around three or four in the afternoon.

---

When I entered the Adventurers’ Guild, there was no one inside—just like last time.

Seems people only drop by in the mornings and evenings.

Fine by me.

I’d completely forgotten to take out a hundred separate health potions in advance, and the magic stones were still in the Training Room.

It would’ve been risky to start pulling out potions with over five hundred of them stuffed in my bag, especially if other adventurers—or the old man—were around.

Careful not to make a sound, I took out a hundred potions, counting them one by one.

After that, I activated the Training Room skill and retrieved a prepared pouch of rabbit-monster magic stones.

It held stones of all sizes—from tiny chips to fairly large ones.

I set the pouch of magic stones next to the health potions on the registration counter.

All set.

I rang the bell.

“Huh… guess I’m a little nervous.”

I took a deep breath to steady myself.

After fifteen or twenty seconds, the door behind the counter opened and the old man appeared.

“Oh, Alisar, you’re back?” he said with a faint smile. “I was starting to think you’d left and wouldn’t show up in our village again.”

“I was a bit busy,” I said, trying to sound calm, though I still stuttered a little.

“I can see that,” he chuckled with a nod. “Where’d you even get so many health potions? The nearest dungeon is two days from here.”

“A new one appeared recently,” I answered.

“Oh? So you’ve heard?” His voice rose, tinged with surprise.

“Yeah, I heard it from adventurers… about four days ago,” I said.

“Well, lucky you,” the old man squinted. “Usually the folks who discover a new dungeon keep it quiet until they report to the Guild.”

“They were acquaintances of mine,” I said, aiming for casual.

“That explains it,” he nodded. “So you got all this from that dungeon?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“Nice haul.”

He looked over the potions, then back at me.

“But why so many?”

“Well, whenever I beat the dungeon boss,” I said, “the treasure chest only had health potions as the reward.”

His eyebrows shot up.

I averted my gaze and thought quietly:

Yeah, that’s probably my fault… but I’m not saying that out loud.

“You’re serious?” he asked, smile gone, eyes fixed on mine.

“I am,” I said, feeling a little tense.

“And how many times did you defeat the dungeon boss?” His tone grew even stricter.

“Over ten for sure,” I said after a brief pause. “Can’t say exactly—maybe more…”

That wasn’t a lie. I really had beaten it more than ten times. I just didn’t specify how much more.

The old man mulled it over.

“Is that… bad?” I asked carefully.

“No, the opposite—it’s good,” he finally said, smiling again. “Very good, in fact. It’s just odd that you’re only getting health potions after a boss kill. If you’re telling the truth, that’s wonderful.”

He smirked and added:

“Weapons and artifacts are nice, sure, but if there’s a dungeon that reliably spits out health potions, that’s even better.”

I let out a small breath of relief.

“And what’s in that pouch?” he asked, nodding toward it.

“Magic stones from monsters,” I said.

“I see. And you want to sell all this?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “I kept enough potions for myself.”

“Alright then,” he said, pulling the pouch toward him. “I’ll tally it up. But you’ll have to wait a bit. There’s a lot to go through, so it’ll take some time.”

“Alright, I’ll wait,” I replied.

I headed over to the dining area, sat on a chair, and waited.

It took longer than I expected. He must have checked every single potion one by one.

And there were a lot of magic stones in that pouch, so no surprise it dragged on.

“All done,” the old man finally said.

I stood quickly and walked to the counter.

“Let’s start with the monster stones,” he said, glancing at his notes.

“Zero-rank stones — three hundred forty-two. That comes to three silvers and forty-two coppers.

“First-rank stones — one hundred fifty-one. That’ll be seven silvers and fifty-five coppers.

“And finally, second-rank stones — thirty-six of them. Those are worth nine silvers.”

“Now for the health potions,” he continued. “There are eighty-eight first-rank potions. That comes to seventy silvers and forty coppers.

“And twelve second-rank potions. Those go for ninety-six silvers.

“In total you’ll receive one hundred eighty-six silvers and forty-seven coppers,” he said, lifting his gaze from the papers.

“Now, may I see your adventurer badge?” the old man asked.

I nodded, took the badge from my neck, and handed it over. He accepted it carefully.

“Wait here a couple of minutes,” he added, then went into the back room.

Why did he need my badge? the thought flickered by.

But I had a more pressing question. He’d said among the potions I sold there were eighty-eight first-rank and twelve second-rank potions. Where did the second-rank ones come from?

As far as I remembered, I only ever made first-rank potions. And the hundred I laid out on the counter were identical. No differences.

Maybe the ones I got from the dungeon boss were different? So those were second-rank?

Hmm… once I leave here, I should double-check all my remaining potions carefully.

About ten minutes later he returned, holding two small pouches.

“Here you go. Silver in this one, coppers in that one. You can keep the purse,” he said, handing them to me.

I thanked him and took the coin pouches.

“You can count it,” he said, watching me intently.

“I trust you,” I replied with a slight smile.

Though honestly, counting wouldn’t hurt… but whatever, it’s fine.

“Heh! Kid, if you trust everyone just like that, someone’s bound to swindle you,” he chuckled. “Maybe not here in the Guild, but elsewhere—be careful. And really, even here, don’t get too relaxed.”

“Yeah, I’ll be careful,” I nodded.

“And one more thing,” the old man said, handing me a small metal badge. “Your new badge. Congratulations—you’re now an F-rank adventurer.”

I took it from him.

“Thank you,” I said.

When I looked at it, a flicker of surprise crossed me. How did I rank up to F so quickly?

The old man smirked, as if he’d read my thoughts.

“Seems you don’t quite get it,” he said. “All those potions and magic stones you just sold are worth far more than a thousand Guild points. And since you’ve long been above level eleven, you meet every requirement for a rank-up.”

“I see…” I murmured, staring at the badge in my palm. For some reason, looking at my new adventurer badge, I felt… nothing. No joy, no pride. Just… nothing.

“So, are you staying here tonight?” he asked.

“Uh… no, I was planning to leave today,” I said, scrambling for an excuse. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Hm. You could stay,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “It’s nearly evening. I’d even treat you to dinner.”

What? Dinner? I froze.

Think. Come up with something. Fast.

“I need to head out urgently. Back to my home village… I haven’t been there in a long time,” I blurted.

He studied me, as if weighing whether I was lying, then finally nodded.

“As you wish. Well then, safe travels,” he said evenly.

“Yeah, thanks,” I replied, quickly grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and all but jogged out of the Guild.

Damn it. I don’t want to stay here. Sure, it’d be nice to spend the night… but dinner. And breakfast tomorrow morning.

No. No, no, no. I remember that taste.

Never again.

As I closed the door behind me, I thought I heard the old man chuckle softly.

No… I’m probably imagining it.

I adjusted my bag strap and headed for the general store.

---

At the general store, I spent most of the money I’d just earned—about one hundred seventy silvers.

I bought long-lasting food: dried meat, dried fruit, hard bread. That didn’t cost much. Most of the expense went to clothes.

My old set was worn out—the fabric had torn in places, and some spots were thinning through. So I decided not to skimp and bought better clothes before heading to the city.

Yes, I’d finally decided to go to the city. I even bought a map.

Hopefully, I won’t get lost. It showed all the roads—even rural ones.

Granted, the map didn’t cover a huge area. There was only one city marked in the center, and all the roads, one way or another, converged on it. There were paths and small roads connecting villages too, but most of them led to the main road that ran straight to that city.

The shopkeeper kindly marked our village’s location on the map, so now I know exactly where I am. If I follow the lines on the map precisely, I’ll reach the city without trouble.

She also told me a bit about the city.

According to her, it’s very large—one of the biggest in the region.

Though… to me, that’s not that big. Only about five hundred thousand people.

Yes, by local standards it’s huge, but by my old world’s standards—it’s a fairly average city.

The city is ruled by Viscount Aaron. If I’m not mistaken, viscount is the second-lowest noble title, right?

First comes baron—the lowest.
Then viscount, then count, then marquis, and finally duke.
Above dukes is only the royal family. Yes, beyond a duke there’s nothing higher except the king and his house.

I had a bad feeling about nobles in general, but the shopkeeper praised Viscount Aaron highly, insisting he’s an excellent ruler.

She said he’s governed these lands for almost a hundred years.

A hundred years…

I immediately pictured a frail old man, face lined with age, white hair, barely able to hold a quill.

If that’s true, and he started ruling at ten, then he’d be around a hundred and ten now.

Is he still of sound mind? Still capable of governing?

When I asked the shopkeeper whether Viscount Aaron might be an elf or some other long-lived race, she shook her head confidently:

“No, Viscount Aaron is human. A perfectly ordinary human.”

She said it with such certainty I didn’t doubt her.

Strange. A human living nearly a century, still ruling and clear-headed…

Then again, who knows.

Maybe somewhere in his lineage there were long-lived folk—elves, for example.

That would make more sense.

Anyway, if he truly is a good ruler, the rest doesn’t concern me.

Well then… time to set out!