Chapter 29: Ballad

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Ballad

"What do you think Professionals are? A dime a dozen?" Hiv shook his head.

"Aunt Martha! Two servings of bean stew!" Lorin was practically starving.

"Coming right up!"

After ordering, he rubbed the frost off his eyebrows and asked with considerable confusion, "No, no, no. I mean, since this location is so important, why didn’t Grand Duke Kaspar send a few more Professionals?"

Hiv handed the two heads and the bag of tail tips to a staff member, gesturing for him to go through the bounty collection process before continuing.

"Many Beginner Professionals are pursuing their own ’paths’ and are unwilling to subordinate themselves to nobles.

"Of course, with Grand Duke Kaspar’s status and wealth, he undoubtedly has many Professionals at his disposal."

He tapped his finger against the bar and added, "However, he rules over the entire Northern Territory—hundreds of cities and millions of citizens. No matter how many Professionals there are, it will never be enough."

"Huh, what about the local nobles here?" Lorin asked curiously.

"Local nobles? Oh, are you asking about Viscount Herman of Frost Valley City?" Hiv was momentarily puzzled before he realized what Lorin was asking.

Lorin nodded, even though it was his first time hearing about this Viscount Herman, and he had actually been asking about Shallow Beach Town.

"Viscount Herman is actually a rare, good noble. He used to be just an Ordinary commoner.

"Later, he followed Count Roderick Plantagenet, accomplished great deeds in battle, and became his second-in-command, earning the title of Viscount.

"But perhaps because this place was funded and built by Grand Duke Kaspar, it isn’t appropriate for him to intervene."

Hiv was also not entirely clear on the details.

A good noble?

Lorin was noncommittal about the term, simply lowering his head to eat the stew Martha had just served.

"Since you’ve already solved the problem, there’s no need to talk about this nonsense anymore. I’ll go explain the situation to the mayor."

Hiv raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. "This time, we have to give you a proper celebration, heroes of Shallow Beach Town. The second-floor room you stayed in before has already been cleaned up by the staff. You can stay there anytime from now on, free of charge."

He placed the twenty-six Gold Coins handed to him by his subordinate on the bar, grabbed the two Kobold heads, and left the tavern.

"COUGH, COUGH—"

Lorin nearly choked and spat out his food.

He was still very unaccustomed to being called that; it always felt a bit weird. Still, he was quite happy to have a free place to stay.

"Hehe, Pip is going to get some rest first."

The short guy was quite delighted to hear someone call him a hero. He scarfed down his stew in no time, took the Gold Coins Lorin shared with him, and happily went upstairs.

Lorin also stretched. The past few days had indeed been exhausting, and he planned to get a good sleep as well.

"There is still a lot of loot to process, and my equipment needs to be updated and repaired. I will be very busy next..." he thought.

"BANG, BANG, BANG—"

"Who is it?"

Lorin crawled out of bed, his eyes bleary with sleep. He glanced out the window; the sun had almost completely set, but there were many bright fires lit in the town.

He wondered if something was on fire.

He grabbed Rusted Throat from beside him and carefully opened the door, only to find Hiv standing outside.

"What’s going on?" he asked in confusion, letting out a breath of relief.

Hiv spoke mysteriously, "Come down quickly. The mayor has prepared a gift for you."

"A gift?" Lorin scratched his head.

He followed Hiv downstairs and found that Pip had long been waiting in the tavern’s main hall.

"Hurry up, Lorin! You’ve definitely never seen this before. It’s so much fun!" the short guy said, absolutely elated.

Lorin walked forward in complete bewilderment. Pip pulled him to the tavern entrance, where he instantly froze.

Night had fallen. The clouds on the horizon were painted in shades of deep purple and tangerine. The evening glow, carrying the crisp chill of winter, cast its final touch of warmth over the frost-covered rooftops.

In the open square outside the tavern, a large pyramid-shaped bonfire had been built at some point. Tongues of orange-red flame darted out from the gaps in the firewood, sending sparks fluttering up into the night sky.

Several long tables were set to the side, laden with various roasted meats, bread, cheese, and pickled vegetables, along with several barrels of ale. The aroma of the liquor mingled with the scent of the meat, whetting everyone’s appetite.

A lively crowd danced merrily around the bonfire.

The dockworkers gathered together, engaging in drinking contests with the enthusiastic Adventurers. The bald Blacksmith, Horton, feasted heartily on the meat from the grill. Passing merchants paused their journeys to chat with one another...

Old Mo, with his crippled leg, sat cross-legged on the ground, strumming a Lute. He sang in a melodious voice:

"Frost and snow cover the hills, the hearth fire burns the anvil red;

"O traveler afar, where are you bound, where does your home lie?

"The waters of the Black Water River flow, the ships on the docks sway;

"O drunken soul, where are you bound, where is your wine?

"The maiden’s braids are long, Mother’s bread is fragrant;

"O wandering soul, where are you bound, where is your heart?

"To the north lies the Frozen Tundra, to the south lies the Smoke Village;

"You walk and walk, you walk and walk, but you can never escape her gaze;

"The wind and snow bury your footprints, the years turn your hair white;

"O returning soul, wander no more, for here is your home."

Lorin stood at the tavern door, still keeping Rusted Throat firmly in his grasp. The scabbard knocked against the threshold, producing a soft clink that suddenly snapped him back to reality.

"Hey—! Isn’t that Lorin? Our great hero!"

Someone shouted, and the crowd gathered around the fire immediately looked over.

Their hands, holding their mugs, paused in mid-air. Their mouths, chewing meat, forgot to close. Soon, they cheered in unison:

"To our great hero!—"

Hiv patted him gently on the shoulder and smiled. "Go on, you’ve earned this."

Lorin slowly walked down the steps. An indescribable emotion surged in his heart, making the corners of his eyes slightly wet.

The girl he had bumped into at the tavern earlier that day squeezed her way out of the crowd. She had changed into a thick woolen dress, her exposed, snow-white collarbones slightly flushed from the cold.

Without the constraint of her Leather Armor, Lorin finally realized her figure was much better than he had imagined.

"Mr. Lorin, I apologize for misunderstanding you earlier today. May I have this dance?" She walked gracefully over to Lorin and offered her hand, her small face blushing as she asked.

"Uh... I..."

Lorin had never danced in either of his lifetimes. He opened his mouth but didn’t know how to respond.

Hiv excitedly cheered from behind him, "Say yes! Say yes!"

"Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!"

Lorin turned his head and saw Hiv’s encouraging gaze. He handed Rusted Throat over to him, then gently took the girl’s hand.

"OH!—" The crowd Burst into cheers.

The girl blinked her sparkling eyes. She squeezed Lorin’s hand somewhat nervously and said softly, "My name is Tina."