Solo Work Arc: Chapter 33.
"We're here." The two women leading the group came to a halt, standing before a massive wooden entrance. The busy armored guards from the watchtower ordered the group to stop as a small guard unit below slowly approached.
The guards were both suspicious and confused, keeping their distance from the ragged and injured group. The guards whispered amongst themselves, thinking that the group must be a group of war or tragic refugees.
A guard, taller than the rest, with an air of authority and proper discipline, approached the group. His short black hair had greys on them. His left hand was not resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword, signaling that he wanted proper dialogue before proper escalation.
"This is the city-town of Oakerhaven. Please state your business." The guard said and scanned the women; his face turned sour when he got a proper view of their condition.
All of them were injured, showing signs of physical abuse. The guard closed his eyes as he erased the sour expression on his face. He turned to the closed wooden entrance and, with a single, swift wave of his hand, the guards opened the entrance.
◆ [ Based on his expressions. He seems already aware of what these women have gone through and is willing to let them in with little explanation. ] ◆
The guard then turned to the only oddity in the group, a reserved, quiet man in the back. He was properly armored and seemed to be in charge of the women. Why was he staying back instead of leading this group of women? The guard asked himself, confused.
"You." The guard pointed at the man. "Are you responsible for these women?" He said and also eyed the woman holding a spear beside him.
"Yes, I am responsible for these women," Winter said in a neutral voice, and the leading guard then lowered the tension that he'd built. The guard then darted his eyes at the barely conscious noblewoman, lying on the stretcher.
The woman was unmistakably a noble. Her skin was fairer than the rest of the women, and the fabric that her dress was made out of was clearly expensive. The guard's face slowly turned to fury, but he held himself back, thinking there was an explanation for this.
"This is Anya Amogush, the prized daughter of Lord Anthes Yellen Amogush." The guard announced, his voice full of restrained suspicion and rage.
◆ [ He's extremely cautious now. ] ◆
Anya Amogush was somewhat lucid; the effects of the white dust had subsided, and the sensation of pain had arrived, but in a subdued form.
"She's unrelated to the rest of the women. I saved her from a bunch of revolutionaries. You should investigate her household." Winter said and then gestured for the rest of the women.
"These women are victims of goblin cruelty, and they need proper medical help. Please, let us in." He said with genuine worry, anxiously tapping his boot on the ground.
The guard let out a sigh and pointed his finger at the entrance. "Then go straight to Healer Sophie, and I hope you're paying for the rest of these women."
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A group of guards led the women straight to the healer. The guards had also volunteered to carry the stretcher on which Anya was lying. The group arrived at a small yet lavish church; it had marble pillars and a marble floor. Several residents were seen kneeling and praying near the entrance, muttering about guidance and fortune.
The group of women was led to the church's open backyard, where dozens of patients were already bedridden and waiting for medical help. The nuns prayed for the patients while some neatly white-robed women took care of them by casting supportive spells.
The backyard turned medical station had an air of sterility and muffled praying silence. Outside the church, the streets were littered and muddied. Hygiene wasn't a pressing priority for most folks, but here, near the church, no one dared litter.
Even the poorest or destitute observed cleanliness, using the nearby water sprinkler to wash themselves. Winter covered his nose. The stench of blood and humors didn't sit well with him.
Winter sat at the end, near the backyard's entrance. He watched as the women were tended to one by one. The white-robed women were actually called priestesses; they handled immediate healing and patient intervention, whereas the nuns ensured patients were calm and comfortable.
(This is why I love church welfare. If only magic existed in my other world, medical expenses wouldn't be so high and exploitative.)
The priestesses asked questions that the women answered gracefully, prompting some of the priestesses to dart their eyes towards Winter quickly. Winter could only gulp, thinking that he caught the kind of attention that he didn't want.
"Hey." A voice broke Winter from his thoughts. It was Felt Mae Puppy.
Winter turned to her and smiled. "How're you feeling?"
Felt looked away, feeling quite shy. "Better now that the priestesses took care of me."
"That's good." Winter nodded, satisfied. "Where did they take Anya Amogush?" He inquired, slightly anxious because he wasn't allowed to visit her.
"They took her to a private ward, reserved for nobles and other political entities," Felt answered, trying to ease Winter's worries.
"Is she receiving proper care?"
"More than these commoners, for sure."
Winter nodded, sighing in relief. He rose from his seat and was about to head out when Felt stopped him. She still had something to say.
"Is it possible to join your group?" Felt said, eyes full of determination. "At least, until we've dealt with that goblin."
Winter was quiet for a moment. He scanned her completely, looking for anything that might signal some betrayal in the future, but found none.
◆ [ Felt Mae Puppy seems genuine, and she's an experienced adventurer; she can be of great help. Also, as of right now, you have three targets on your back. ] ◆
Bricks said, souring Winter's expression. He didn't want to think about the threats, but Bricks insisted on saying it straight to his face.
◆ [ First, the Night Generals. Second, the Thirteen Daggers. Third, the Revolutionaries. ] ◆
◆ [ You're steadily progressing. You may not need allies when you reach your peak, but for now, you must have one, at least temporarily. ] ◆
Winter then met Felt's eyes, and there was something behind her two brightly colored black orbs. Admiration? Gratitude? Winter couldn't quite tell, but it was something positive.
"Yes, you can join me for now."
Winter agreed, causing Felt to smile and eagerly hold his hand.
The guard from earlier appeared right before them, wanting to have a small dialogue. Felt quickly distanced herself from Winter and assumed a professional posture.
"My name is Melric Gehlen. Vice-Captain of the City's Garrison Force." The guard introduced himself with a small, curt bow. "It's about the goblin mage that you've mentioned earlier while we're walking."
"Understood, but I need a rest, vice-captain. We can talk about these things first thing in the morning." Winter said, bowing apologetically.
Melric Gehlen's brows furrowed, but he accepted the reason. "This is of utmost importance. First thing in the morning, we'll come for you." With that, Vice-captain Melric left and returned to his post.
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A hooded figure in the distance watched as Winter had a conversation with Melric Gehlen. The figure was hidden in an alleyway, a dagger was sheathed in their unkempt slacks.
"Is that really him?" Another hooded figure said, stalking behind.
"Yeah, it's him." The hooded figure said, opening a scroll with Winter's sketched face and the written descriptions.
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The day has progressed into night. The streets and most establishments were quiet except for a rowdy inn. It's not even that late, yet there were already drunken cheers inside.
"Bartlow Inn." Felt read the sign as Winter entered. The two of them were immediately hit with the scent of alcohol and sweat. Winter instinctively covered his nose. Felt remained still, unbothered by the scent.
The two then took a seat at an empty table near the window. A woman with canine features approached their table and asked for their order. Winter was surprised; this was his first time seeing a demi-human.
The woman had big furry ears and wide eyes. She had canine teeth and a huge, brown, fluffy nose.
◆ [ A wolf demi-human. They're not common in these parts. ] ◆
He stared for a while, then composed himself. "We'll have beer, please." He said and turned to the worried Felt. "My treat, don't worry."
The demi-human then softly barked.
Winter then turned to Felt. He was about to ask about the demi-human population in this city until he noticed the focused eyes on them. Everyone in the bar was still enjoying their drinks, but they all kept one eye open towards the two.
"They know that you can heal," Felt said, noticing Winter's slight discomfort. "They're fishing for you now."
"Oh..."
The demi-human then brought over the beers that they ordered.
Felt quickly gulped down her mug.
◆ [ She's extremely stressed. As the leader, provide relief. ] ◆
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Winter and Felt downed mugs of beer left and right. Felt then shared more of her background, tears in her eyes. She grew up in a poor noble family and had to become an adventurer to make ends meet. A year ago, she invited his brother to her party.
They made quite a name for themselves, even reaching the silver plate. However, three weeks ago, they were tasked with clearing out a small goblin camp. However, they were ambushed before they could clear out the camp.
The goblins killed his brother and then left her alive. She was the sole survivor. Then the goblins repeatedly had their way with her. The experience left a dark hole in her heart, stating that it won't go away, no matter how many beers are drunk or goblins are slayed.
The conversation continued for some time.
Winter then asked for a room with two beds. Felt was already drop-dead drunk while drowning in her traumatic sorrow. Winter carried Felt to her bed and then covered her.
The beers couldn't intoxicate Winter, so he went out for a short walk.
◆ [ There're are four people following you. ] ◆
"Can't even have one peaceful walk," Winter muttered before taking the alleyway beside him and loudly whispering about taking a shortcut.
◆ [ They fell for it, now they've surrounded you. ] ◆
Not even three seconds of stepping into that alleyway, he was already quickly surrounded. Two faced him while two were covering the exit from behind.
"Are you mugging me?"
All of them snickered. "You wish."
"We're here to take you, alive or dead. The choice is up to you." The hooded figure said, brandishing a knife that glinted under the moonlight. "The Thirteen Daggers didn't like what you did. Turning in one of our assassins."
(Ah, that woman!)
"Zone."
Winter activated a single technique, sensing that it was sufficient. The hooded figure from behind dashed and thrusted their sword, but Winter deftly dodged it and delivered a devastating downward punch straight to the hooded figure's back.
"Guh!" The hooded figure grunted and collapsed, unconscious.
(They're a bit too slow.) "I defeated one of your junior assassins, correct?" Winter added, voice full of reckless confidence.
"Now, why would the thirteen daggers send some common schmucks like you to defeat me if I am strong enough to defeat your assassins?" He finished, watching as the three remaining enemies stepped back in unison.
"You arrogant piece of shit!"
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The alleyway now had four unconscious bodies. Winter made sure to break their arms so that they can't harm anyone anymore, at least for several months.
Winter returned to the room after a quick shower and wash. "Magical warm showers. I am starting to like this inn." He said, wearing only a piece of a towel.
He glanced at Felt, whose bed was now full of alcoholic regurgitation, even the floor below it.
(She'll clean it up tomorrow.) He said and then collapsed onto the bed.