Compensation

 "You seem more adept with a sword. However, with the strength-enhancing leather armor, you can barely manage with the scimitar. But it does seem like a bit of a waste." Freyr smiled. "This scimitar has a magic crystal embedded in it, capable of storing magical power. The blade has wind magic patterns, which allows a skilled warrior to unleash wind blades with it. However, with your current level, that's beyond your ability."

Calista was stunned!

This young noble was spot-on!

The leather armor was indeed a gift from a northern baron.

And the scimitar had been given to her by the leader of a mercenary group, who was a northwestern barbarian!

Freyr rubbed his temples and looked at Calista, "Actually, what I'm most curious about is that 'Anti-Magic' bow..."

Freyr placed the silver bow on the table and smiled. "The vertical, slanted patterns on the bow represent the power of the moon. A totem of moon power suggests it originates from the ancient Moon family. This family flourished seven hundred years ago, and at their peak, they controlled half of the continent. They worshipped the Moon Goddess. Unfortunately, during the continental wars a few centuries ago, the Moon family was wiped out. It's said that the family is now... well, extinct."

His fingers traced the smooth surface of the silver bow, his gaze playful. "I'm very curious about you. A small-time adventurer leader with mediocre martial skills, yet you possess three rare, magic-enhanced weapons. One from the north, one from the northwest, and one from an extinct ancient family. Just who are you really?"

If Freyr's mentor, the erudite scholar Rosiate, had heard these words, he would have felt immense pride in his disciple and indignation at anyone who dared call him an "idiot." Freyr's seemingly simple remarks revealed a mastery of heraldry, emblemology, totemology, and continental history. Remarkably, even Rosiate himself might not have identified the origins of these three weapons so swiftly.

Freyr's knowledge flowed effortlessly, without consulting any references, as if all this information were indelibly etched in his mind.

Calista was left in a state of shock.

"How... how do you know all this?" she stammered.

"Reading," Freyr replied, setting down the bow and smiling. "Books contain all of humanity's knowledge. And knowledge is the beacon of human progress. I've been reading these books since I was six."

"Six?" Calista murmured. "You must be a genius... Have you read a lot of books?"

"Quite a few," Freyr chuckled. "But I'm no genius. In fact, there was a time when I disliked reading and had no interest in knowledge at all."

"Then why..." Calista began to ask but stopped herself, realizing this might not be the best time for a chat.

Freyr didn't mind. He smiled and, in a low voice, almost as if talking to himself, said, "There's a story: In a fine porcelain shop, the owner painstakingly crafted a new piece, only for it to be accidentally shattered by a sudden intruder. The intruder, feeling guilty, decided to make a better one to compensate the owner... Yes, compensation."

"Compensation?" Calista looked puzzled, not understanding what he meant.

Freyr glanced at his captive, "You seem more interested in others' affairs. If I were you, I'd be more concerned about my current situation."

"But you don't seem to mind talking to me," Calista replied.

"Ah, that's because you're a beautiful girl, and you have lovely legs," Freyr shrugged nonchalantly. "Men tend to talk more in the presence of a pretty girl—that's just how most men are."

Calista bit her lip, feeling a wave of helplessness. Facing this young noble, she felt like the younger one. His every word, smile, and glance seemed so profound, as if he could see right through her.

"What do you intend to do with me?" Calista asked, resigned.

Freyr laughed, "Weren't you trying to seduce me earlier? Why not try again?"

Calista's heart skipped a beat. What did he mean by that? Watching the young noble's smile and his eyes, she felt a surge of renewed hope.

Freyr stood up and slowly approached Calista. His fingers gently caressed her face, feeling the softness of her skin. His touch was light, moving from her cheek down to her long neck, then slipping under the bedsheet covering her, resting on her shoulder. His fingers were slender and soft, lacking the roughness of other men, and carried an air of deliberate... teasing?

Yes, it was teasing! Like a cat toying with a mouse it had caught.

Under Freyr's touch, Calista began to tremble slightly. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft moan. Suddenly, Freyr yanked the sheet off her...

Calista, eyes closed, braced herself for what she thought was coming. But...

Swish!

Calista felt the tension in her bound hands suddenly release—the rawhide had been cut! Freyr held a gleaming small knife, smiling as he took a step back. "Alright, you can leave anytime now. My men won't stop you. Your companions can go with you, except for the wizard."

Calista stared at Freyr in astonishment. "You're letting me go?"

"Yes," Freyr said casually, smiling. "I'm only interested in your wizard companion. As for your three magical weapons, I've studied them enough. You can take them with you."

Calista was increasingly baffled by this young noble. She opened her mouth to speak. "But you... you attacked us at the tavern..."

"I told you, I'm interested in magic, not you," Freyr said indifferently. "I'm very busy and somewhat tired. You can leave now. I don't like having people staring at me while I sleep."

He took two steps back and pointed to the door, making it clear that he wanted her to leave.

Calista felt like she was dreaming. She took the small knife from Freyr, cut the rawhide binding her feet, stretched her sore limbs, and walked to the door, still in a daze.

"Oh, by the way," Freyr called after her. "Since we've met, I'll give you some advice."

"Please, what advice?" Calista asked respectfully, almost instinctively.