Chapter 37: A True Knight

As evening approached, the villagers unloaded iron cooking pots, oiled canvas, and wooden frames from their ox carts at a clearing before the Klavi mountain path, setting up camp.

Gray canvas tents treated with tung oil were pitched in triangular shapes. Several nimble young men used hand axes to chop down a dead black pine tree, gathering dry branches and charcoal stored in wooden crates before blowing on fire tubes to ignite the bonfire.

Livestock were corralled within circles of rope, with some villagers feeding them hay to keep them calm.

Only hours had passed since the winter wolf encounter. With winter days growing dark quickly, Lucas had directed the villagers to halt their ox carts and rest before entering the mountain path.

The villagers melted a pot of snow for water. The iron pot filled with white snow sat atop orange flames as the icy snow melted. Travelers weary and thirsty from the day’s journey took turns drinking from bowls or waterskins.

The four winter wolves were dragged down. Lucas stood before them, instructing the villagers on how to properly skin such magical beasts.

He invited Wade over to divide the spoils.

“Sir Wade, the two on the right were killed by us. The two on the left belong to you as your rightful spoils.”

The winter wolves Wade killed remained relatively intact, their valuable pelts nearly perfect. In contrast, those slain by the villagers’ arrows were rather mangled.

Given this obvious difference, there was no dispute over the division of spoils. Wade nodded. Not long ago, he had written his name in the snow using the common tongue.

The Tanians indeed used the common language, and Lucas recognized the characters. Wade gave a brief self-introduction, stating he was a lone adventurer returning to town.

Lucas then invited him to travel together, bluntly stating they wished to hire him to escort this group mostly composed of ordinary villagers.

Having assisted in killing the winter wolves, Wade had easily earned their trust. He accepted the task and joined their defense.

The job required ensuring their safe arrival at Alvado, the nearest town with guards and officials.

They were already close. After inquiring about their route, Wade learned they had about two or three days left. Tomorrow they would pass through the mountain path and reach a small mountain village called Bronte before nightfall.

This side of Klavi mountain path was sparsely populated, but as they neared Alvado, human settlements would increase, leaving behind the desolate wasteland where one could travel for days without resupply.

Lucas took out a pouch of silver coins and handed it to Wade.

“This is the agreed payment – five Tania silver pieces. Another five will be paid upon our safe arrival in Alvado.”

Wade accepted the pouch, examining a silver coin stamped with lilies on one side and a portrait on the other.

His current persona was that of a poor wandering knight who should be particular about money.

Playing his role perfectly, he carefully inspected these old coins contributed by the villagers. Though worn to varying degrees, only the patterns had blurred – all were uncut good coins Lucas provided.

It was rare for payments to consist entirely of full-weight coins. The usual practice was mixing good with bad – an unspoken rule across all trades.

When someone promised five silver coins, there would typically be at least three underweight pieces.

The same applied when purchasing goods. Merchants inflated prices accordingly – a sword actually worth eight silver coins would be priced at twelve.

Seasoned adventurers would buy such swords using underweight coins, while greenhorns or wealthy young nobles would let merchants fleece them.

Yet Lucas hadn’t resorted to such tricks, showing genuine sincerity.

For a low-risk two-to-three-day escort job like this, five silver coins would already attract many reliable adventuring parties. Lucas’s offer of ten coins included gratitude.

After all, Wade had acted without any prior contract.

He’d saved the villagers beyond any obligation.

“We’ll process these winter wolves shortly. The pelts and fangs will be delivered to you tomorrow,” Lucas said.

A complete wolf pelt, fangs and bones could fetch six to seven silver coins depending on market fluctuations.

Calculating thus, Wade stood to earn nearly twenty silver coins from this trip.

Adventurers’ incomes were substantially higher than ordinary folk’s.

Of course, the prerequisite was having real capability. Skilled individuals could prosper in any field.

Wade pocketed the coin pouch and watched as the Tanians skinned the wolves. The process resembled sheep-skinning. A middle-aged man skillfully gutted a winter wolf with his hunting knife.

The frozen blood prevented messy splattering.

Winter wolf meat carried a strong earthy sourness with slight toxicity. Only the truly desperate would consider it edible.

The most valuable part was undoubtedly the silvery-white pelt.

To preserve the pelts intact, the Tanians worked meticulously – a time-consuming technical task that wouldn’t finish soon. After watching briefly out of novelty, Wade lost interest.

Full darkness fell. Villagers retrieved pre-cut mutton from crates – winter’s cold being nature’s best preservative.

Gathered around the fire, they added chopped mutton, pickled radish and pork sausage to the cooking pot, crumbling some rye bread into the mix.

Steam rose as the stew bubbled.

Pale-faced villagers trembling from cold clutched bowls, tilting their heads back to gulp down hot mutton broth.

Their ashen complexions gradually warmed to rosy hues.

In normal years, meat was reserved for festivals. This dinner counted as lavish – rare comfort amidst recent misfortunes.

A young villager named Avery brought broth to Wade sitting alone in a corner.

Wade waved it away, producing dried herring and cheese from his deerhide pack to indicate he had his own provisions.

“Please try some, Mr. Wade.”

Wade continued refusing. 

How could a skeleton drink soup? 

If he pretended to pour it into his helmet, the liquid would just soak his bones.

Undead lacked organs to digest human food.

Seeing Wade’s persistent refusal, Avery scratched his head and glanced back at Lucas, who gestured for him to return.

Eccentric habits weren’t uncommon among adventurers.

Some simply refused others’ food.

Lucas speculated Wade might have suffered betrayal before – perhaps over profit distribution among teammates. Such incidents weren’t rare, especially in temporary parties.

This wandering knight seemed distrustful of many things.

Fully armed yet companionless, trekking the wastelands alone with his pack.

Perhaps he wanted teammates but could no longer trust others.

Betrayed by someone close?

Maybe. Yet this same man had altruistically saved villagers.

Lucas’s impression of Wade shifted slightly:

A mysterious wandering knight with a complex past, powerful enough to journey alone.

A true knight who, despite past wounds, retained compassion and virtue.