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Stormwind City and Westfall

"No! Candle, candle is my baby!"

"This is the only one I have left, and I won't trade it for you!"

Listening to this bizarre conversation, Wayne fully emerged from the disorientation of his interdimensional journey. He stealthily drew the electrified blade from his belt and cast a Quen shield around himself before cautiously advancing along the mine tunnel.

Rounding a corner, he came face-to-face with two small, gaunt creatures wielding picks against the rock wall. They wore scraps of cloth that barely covered their bodies, and their heads resembled those of rodents. They continued their mining conversation in the same strange language.

Strangest of all, each creature carried a basket of ore on their back, and a thick candle burned atop their bare heads. One candle was still mostly full, while the other had nearly burned down.

Kobolds?

The image of the creatures and their iconic head candles triggered a memory in Wayne's mind. However, kobolds existed in numerous fantasy worlds. Their presence alone couldn't determine his current location.

Fortunately, most kobolds were goblin-level creatures, several levels weaker than even an average human. Judging by their small stature and lack of armor or weaponry, the pickaxes they held were their only defense, posing little threat to Wayne.

After a moment's consideration, Wayne opted for stealth over violence. He donned the invisibility cloak from his storage bag and carefully continued along the mine path, choosing not to engage the kobolds. It wasn't fear that motivated him, but rather a desire to maintain the secrecy of the rift. If these kobolds were its guardians, it was best to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.

The invisibility cloak proved its worth. While it couldn't mask the subtle sounds of his footsteps, it effectively concealed his form. The cloak itself was completely transparent, allowing him to see his surroundings clearly.

Thanks to his witcher agility and the kobolds' low intelligence, Wayne deftly navigated the tunnels, avoiding detection. He eventually emerged from the mine unscathed.

The mine was situated at the base of a hill, overlooking a barren, yellow landscape. The sparse vegetation consisted mainly of dry weeds, and the blue sky appeared desolate against the backdrop of loess.

Wayne exhaled softly, taking in the bleak scene. His next move was unclear. The goal of this expedition was simply to assess the danger level of this world and determine if it was one he recognized. To achieve this, he needed to find an intelligent creature capable of communication, hoping to glean clues from their interaction.

A flock of vultures circling overhead sparked an idea. Recalling his knowledge of bird communication, Wayne moved to a mound with a clear view and let out a loud whistle.

The vultures circling above seemed to have noticed Wayne's call, aided by his animal language ability. After a few uncertain moments, they cautiously descended, landing about seven or eight meters away from him. They stared at the tall human, bewildered by his ability to communicate with them and understand their strange whistles.

Wayne was delighted. Choosing this skill and specialization had been the right decision, proving to be incredibly practical.

He then mimicked the birds' vocalizations, engaging in a challenging verbal exchange with the vultures. Thanks to his beast affinity ability, the carrion-eaters, despite their occasional hostility towards humans, treated him with surprising friendliness, almost as a kindred spirit. Wayne even sensed that with further improvement in his beast taming skills, he could potentially command these creatures to fight for him.

After several minutes of disjointed conversation, Wayne extracted the information he sought. Northwest of their current location, not far off, was a farm where various crops were cultivated. A group of creatures resembling himself, likely humans, resided there.

Without hesitation, Wayne donned his invisibility cloak, retrieved his magic carpet, and set off towards the northwest.

True to the vultures' information, a ten-acre farm emerged in the distance after a fifteen-minute flight. However, most of the land lay fallow, with only a few fields near the farmhouse still growing wheat-like plants.

Figures could be seen moving between the fields and the farmhouse, seemingly engaged in farm work. Judging by their appearance and attire, they were indeed human.

The presence of humans brought a wave of relief to Wayne. In worlds inhabited by humans, communication was usually possible. Had he encountered strange and incomprehensible creatures, he might have been forced to turn back.

He quietly landed a few hundred meters from the farm, stowed his magic carpet and invisibility cloak, and equipped himself with a two-handed sword on his back and a short sword at his waist. He approached the farm with the air of an adventurer.

The first person he saw was a young woman dressed in a linen shirt and canvas overalls, a pitchfork in hand. She was of average attractiveness, with brown hair tied in a ponytail, and stood nearly 1.8 meters tall. Her skin was tanned from working in the sun.

They noticed each other simultaneously. The farm girl, startled by Wayne's weapons and armor, gripped her pitchfork tightly. "Who are you? Why have you come to my farm?" she asked, her voice slightly hoarse.

Wayne was relieved to find that they shared a common language. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace, a smile gracing his handsome face. "Don't be alarmed, ma'am. I'm a mercenary, here to purchase supplies—food, water, perhaps some wine. And I'd like to inquire if you have any tasks for a mercenary to complete."

As expected, beauty had its advantages. The farm girl's demeanor softened upon seeing Wayne's pleasant face and friendly attitude. Though she didn't lower her pitchfork, she considered his words for a moment before responding.

"Mercenary? An adventurer, you mean? Are you from Stormwind City?"

"Come with me," she continued. "I'll take you to my parents. We've been having trouble with wild boars lately. I don't know where they're coming from, but they've been destroying our crops at night. If you can help us get rid of them, my parents would be willing to pay you."

Stormwind City!

Upon hearing that name, Wayne's heart leaped. He had a good idea of what world he was in now, and while he felt a thrill of excitement, a sense of unease also washed over him.

Azeroth! The world of Warcraft! A world targeted by the Burning Legion!

He suppressed his swirling thoughts, maintaining a calm smile as he followed the farm girl towards the farmhouse.

They hadn't gone far when a middle-aged couple, dressed as farmers, approached, accompanied by two burly farmhands wielding tools. They eyed Wayne with suspicion, their gazes lingering on the large two-handed sword strapped to his back.

Only after the farm girl exchanged a few words with the couple did the tension ease somewhat. The middle-aged farmer stepped forward, scrutinizing Wayne carefully before speaking.

"Where are you from, adventurer? We don't see many of your kind in the Westfall."

The word "Westfall" confirmed Wayne's suspicions. He now knew exactly where he was. A sense of relief washed over him again. He nodded to the farmer and replied, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I'm not from Stormwind City, actually. I'm an adventurer from the Kingdom of Lordaeron, traveling the world and taking on various tasks. I recently arrived in Westfall from Stormwind."

The farmer paused, taking in Wayne's well-crafted gear. It was clear that this was no ordinary adventurer. After a moment's consideration, a smile broke through his serious expression.

"Since you're a traveler from afar, you must be weary from your journey," he said. "Welcome to Lawrence Farm. Let's set aside business for now. My daughter will show you to the dining hall for a simple meal. We can discuss commissions after you've rested."

"Westfall has been quite chaotic lately," he continued. "Not only are wild beasts running rampant, but the gnolls of the Riverpaw clan are causing trouble as well. And I've heard rumors of a bandit group called the Defias Brotherhood operating out of the Deadmines."

"If you're looking for work, there's certainly no shortage of it here."

...

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