Chapter 171: Ghost Town Part 6

"I-I don't really know the whole story!"

Seeing my expression, the innkeeper frantically waved her hands and quickly added.

"I just heard what the villagers were saying, so I don't know the details."

After speaking so firmly about this "punishment from heaven" or "divine punishment" or whatever, now she says she doesn't know the details? I scratched my chin as I watched the innkeeper. She kept wiping down an empty table for a long while, but perhaps my reaction was bothering her as she spoke up again.

"I'm just the innkeeper, you see… I've only picked up bits and pieces from people passing through. It'd be better to ask someone else about this."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, absolutely. In fact, I didn't even see the fire myself."

"Then, who saw the fire?"

"Well, the village chief and some of the men…."

"Were they the ones who said it was 'divine punishment'?"

The innkeeper hesitated for a moment before slowly nodding her head. Despite the inn being quite far from the village center, where no one would just pass by, she lowered her voice as if someone might overhear.

"You're not wizards, are you…?"

"No. I'm a druid who serves nature, and these two are knights."

"Phew. That's a relief. I really can't stand wizards."

"Because of the Dawson couple?"

"Yes. Because of the Dawson couple…."

"What on earth did that couple do?"

"They used divine powers."

"Divine powers…."

"They blasphemed against the gods, and that's why they were punished by heaven."

"..."

"If the village chief hadn't been there, our entire village would have… no, never mind."

The magic used by wizards is mysterious, powerful, and impressive, but it's definitely different from the powers of the gods. Magic involves constructing formulas according to certain rules, and manipulating magical power to achieve a result according to that formula. It was a kind of mathematical action. There's a set process, required costs, and an achievable outcome.

However, the powers of the gods are more like an absolute force that completely ignores the "rules" that are so crucial in magic. In other words, they're "miracles". The gods can obtain the desired results without paying a price or following any rules. Why? Because they're "gods".

So, the magic of wizards and the powers of the gods are completely different things. A wizard using divine powers was as absurd as a dog breathing fire.

But the innkeeper seemed firmly convinced that the wizard couple had used divine powers. Well, it's not that surprising. In a small village like this foolish beliefs often run rampant.

…I need to find out where this nonsense rumor started.

I didn't press the innkeeper further; I just smiled gently and continued eating.

"Ayla!"

As soon as I stepped out of the inn, I called Ayla in a stern voice.

"From this moment on, you are not to act on your own without my permission. Absolutely not."

– Whimper…

Perhaps aware of her wrongdoing, she flattened her ears and looked up at me with her big, round eyes while wagging her tail ever so slowly. She looked adorably like a puppy, but I fixed my gaze and stared down at her with a strict expression.

"You never know what might happen. Don't stray from my side."

– Whimper…

"Playing the pity card won't work."

Whether my warning got through or not, Ayla drooped her tail, looked sullen, and started to follow behind me. Beepy was oblivious to Ayla's mood and sat on her head; he was lazily grooming his feathers and nodding off.

When we rounded the corner that led to the village center, the scene was much busier than the night before. People were bustling about and carrying loads and making trades; each one was absorbed in their own tasks. It was a perfectly ordinary sight.

It would have been even better if the burned mansion hadn't been visible in the background.

"Good morning."

Even in a small village like this, it seemed that mercenaries occasionally passed through, as there was a shop trading in monster materials. I decided to stop by and chat while pulling out the pouch filled with the magic stones I had collected. The shopkeeper's eyes widened at the sight of the hefty amount.

"T-This is…"

"Haha, it's nothing special. Mostly goblins and orcs."

Even so, the amount was considerable, and thanks to proper storage, the quality was excellent. That was one of the benefits of using arrows as the main weapon. You could obtain most materials, including magic stones, without damaging them.

"I'm not expecting a fortune. Just pay a fair price…"

It was a hint that I was fine with a generous fee deduction. Understanding my meaning, the merchant smiled broadly and began sorting the magic stones. In a small village like this, the magic stone trade likely wasn't very active except when the occasional mercenary passed through. No wonder the shopkeeper was so delighted.

"By the way, sir."

As the shopkeeper sorted the green and purple magic stones by size, I casually struck up a conversation.

"What's with that mansion? Smoke keeps rising from it."

The shopkeeper glanced up at the mansion and then returned his focus to the magic stones. He even pulled out a monocle, clicking his tongue as he inspected them.

"Don't mind it."

"I was just wondering if there was money to be made."

"Haha! Selling these magic stones alone will fill your pockets, so why worry about money?"

"Hardly. Just paying off the meal debts I've racked up will take half of it, if I'm lucky. Then there's fixing my weapon, repairing the carriage, and replacing horseshoes; do you think that's free? And once I renew my mercenary badge soon, I'll be left with just a few coins in hand."

"....."

"So what I mean is… is there any way to make some money? Something that's a headache for the village, for example. That mansion seems like a perfect candidate."

"Hmm."

"I get to earn money, and the village gets rid of its problem; everyone wins. Just so you know, I specialize in dealing with undead like skeletons, zombies, and ghosts. On my way from Solen to here, I didn't get to see any undead, so I haven't had much fun."

At the mention of being an undead specialist, the shopkeeper's eyebrow arched slightly. He glanced back and forth between the magic stones and us Was he assessing our skills based on the quantity of stones? After clearing his throat a few times, he spoke in a low voice.

"Hmm, it's not really something we can entrust to an outsider…"

"What are you saying? Isn't that why you hire mercenaries to handle the difficult and troublesome tasks?"

"Whether the village even has the money to hire mercenaries is… well…"

"At least let's talk it over."

The shopkeeper stroked his chin for a while before nodding his head. After finishing sorting the magic stones and settling the bill, he grabbed his coat and got ready to leave. It seemed he didn't mind stepping out; this was likely because he wasn't expecting any other customers.

"Follow me."

We followed the shopkeeper deeper into the alley. As we walked up the well-paved brick road, we saw a house that looked old but was large and well-maintained.

That must be the village chief's house.

The innkeeper had also mentioned the village chief, and since the shopkeeper kept talking about the village, it seemed likely the entire village operated as a single unit. If that were the case, then the one running the village was probably the chief. I recalled what the innkeeper had said. She mentioned, "If the village chief hadn't been there, our entire village would have …"

Which means the chief is somehow involved with whatever's going on in that mansion.

The shopkeeper opened the door and went in first, and we followed him inside. While the shopkeeper spoke to a woman who appeared to be the lady of the house, I discreetly observed the interior.

…Doesn't seem like they're well off.

Well, it wasn't unusual. In small villages like this, even the "village chief" often couldn't accumulate wealth. It was a title that was often just for show.

But for all that, it seems like the chief has a tight grip on the villagers…

Before my doubts could settle, I heard the sound of coughing from inside the house. At the same moment, a shadow appeared, pushing aside a thin curtain. I instinctively looked up and stared directly at the person.

The man was standing with his wife's support. He leaned slightly to one side and looked down at us; his eyes were mismatched in color. In fact, it wasn't just his eyes that were different.

Half of his face looked melted, with skin that had drooped, and his hair was almost nonexistent; perhaps it burned away. One of his eyes was a cloudy white, barely distinguishable from the sclera, and half of his lips were gone, exposing his teeth.

"..."

It was easy to guess what had happened. The man had suffered severe burns and still hadn't properly recovered. It was understandable; there were no temples here. Even the nearest temple was too far to be of any use, so it seemed he had simply given up on treatment. This was a common occurrence in this pseudo-medieval land.

"Welcome."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Chief."

The man nodded and sat down on the sofa, then coughed a few times before looking at us properly.

"Mercenaries, are you?"

"Yes."

"So, what kind of mercenaries are you?"

"We are…"

"Do you take on any kind of work, just as the name suggests?"

"...."

I paused and stopped what I was about to say, then I looked at the village chief. His good eye was staring right through me. I realized what kind of answer he was looking for and smiled.

"…Yes, that's right."

"Good."

The village chief glanced briefly behind me. I immediately understood what he was checking. Ayla, who was sticking close behind me. Though he seemed to be looking at me, he was, in fact, watching her.

"I hadn't planned on entrusting work to outsiders, but…"

"..."

"You all seem quite capable."

"We're grateful that you see us that way."

"You must have seen the mansion when you entered the village, right?"

"Yes, it was hard to notice because of the fog, but there was still smoke rising."

"That's right. That damned mansion is still…"

The village chief trailed off, then coughed several times again. Just like his burns, it was easy to tell that the cough was another aftereffect of the mansion fire.

"You said you specialize in the undead?"

"Yes."

"Then the job should be easier."

What on earth was going on?

"Get rid of those crazy ghosts."