Chapter 39: The Deadly Silent Village
“That really was a radiant-class longsword.”
Lucas recalled the sight of that longsword bursting into flames.
“That Viking was a silver-rank professional warrior. Having a weapon like that wasn’t surprising.”
“However, I think the fire gathering around wasn’t caused by the sword’s power. It should be the Viking’s intrinsic battle skill he gained upon reaching silver-rank.”
“That fire wasn’t like the fireball spells cast by mages—regulated and destructive. It wasn’t magic-shaped flames. It was actually the fire from the pirates burning down our houses by dousing them in oil.”
“To me, the fire around that Viking seemed alive. I’ve teamed up with mages before, and even they couldn’t freely control naturally burning fire.”
“So, I believe that fire was the Viking’s intrinsic battle skill.”
Lucas sighed, looking at the fire pile, adding another dry branch to it.
“Though I hate to admit it, that guy is a strong warrior, gifted on the professional path, unlike me, a mediocre fighter. If he’s still alive, given time, he would definitely break through to gold-rank and maintain the fire’s blessing on himself indefinitely.”
Wade listened to Lucas’s story, hearing terms he hadn’t encountered much before.
“Intrinsic battle skill,” “fire’s blessing”…
It wasn’t hard to understand what Lucas was saying.
Clearly, Lucas was talking about Sven’s exclusive battle skill—Starfire.
From their earlier conversation, Wade already knew some of Lucas’s past.
Lucas was a professional warrior who had wandered for seventeen years but still remained iron-rank—a jack-of-all-trades, dabbling a bit in many areas.
Based on Lucas and Sven, iron-rank professionals were still relatively common. Wade had seen battles involving professional warriors before. Their battle skills had great power but were rather rigid, like formulas, inflexible.
In contrast, Sven’s Starfire was flexible and versatile. It could not only manipulate the flow of flames but also granted Sven powerful perception abilities under firelight, enhancing his senses and physical strength.
There seemed to be an essential difference between intrinsic battle skills and the common battle skills learned and practiced by others.
So, the difference between iron-rank and silver-rank was that so-called “intrinsic battle skill”?
Wade kept pondering with the little information Lucas had let slip.
He further understood this extraordinary group called professional warriors. From silver-rank onwards, they would possess unique, unprecedented extraordinary powers.
Moreover, Lucas said it wasn’t unusual for a silver-rank warrior to wield a radiant-class weapon.
Wade quietly equated “one hundred gold coins” with “silver-rank professional warrior” in his mind.
Iron-rank warriors earned between five to twenty silver coins per mission. After daily expenses, weapon maintenance, and potion costs, if they lived frugally, they could save about one hundred silver coins a year—roughly ten gold coins.
In other words, an iron-rank warrior would have to live frugally for ten years to barely afford a radiant-class weapon.
Once entering silver-rank, income seemed to surge by five to ten times, and the difference in combat power could be even greater.
No wonder Lucas was completely helpless against Sven.
However, silver-rank warriors were still mortal flesh and blood, not invincible.
But gold-rank was another story. Wade didn’t know how it differed from silver-rank, but perhaps they should be called “non-human.”
Wade imagined gold-rank warriors as monstrous dragons. He had never encountered one, only hearing tales from bards. Heroes who could slay dragons and battle demons were called gold-rank.
That sounded too distant.
Wade still focused on what he could grasp. Then he cautiously tried to ask Lucas about weapon appraisal.
He wrote in the snow: “Are there recommended appraisers in Alvado?”
Lucas asked, “Is this your first time in Alvado, Wade?”
Wade nodded. Lucas thought Wade might have just finished an adventure. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Near the Oak Tavern in Alvado, there’s an alchemy workshop run by a gnome named York.”
“He also does appraisals. His fees are about twenty percent higher than the adventurers’ guild appraisers, but he can give results on the spot without waiting until the next day.”
“However, the last time I saw York was ten years ago. I don’t know if he’s still in Alvado.”
“If you have anything complicated to appraise when you get there, I can take you to try your luck.”
“Thank you,” Wade wrote in the snow.
Lucas smiled, “It’s no trouble.”
“By the way, Wade, aren’t you a vassal under a viscount?”
Wade wrote, “I’m from Nidran.”
That wasn’t a lie. He used to live in Helburg, Nidran, before he died.
He knew nothing about Tania, and instead of inventing a place he didn’t know that might arouse suspicion from locals, he said what he was familiar with.
Nidran’s estate wine was a popular luxury in Tania. Lucas knew the country but was still surprised. Tania was in the northern part of the continent; Nidran was in the central-southern part. The two were hundreds of kilometers apart—almost spanning half the continent.
Traveling from one country to another took years.
Lucas increasingly sensed Wade’s complicated background. A Nidran native had actually come to the northern border of Tania.
Though curious about Wade’s experiences, Lucas felt he shouldn’t pry further.
He stopped asking about Wade’s origins and instead chatted about Nidran’s customs.
Lucas wasn’t unfamiliar with Wade. Besides writing, Wade also drew small comic-like stick figure sketches in the snow.
He drew how Nidran people made wine, how they celebrated the wine festival when grapes ripened in October. On October 10th every year, the town square offered free sweet grape wine for everyone to drink their fill.
Lucas was very interested in these previously unheard-of customs. The two enjoyed the conversation until midnight, when Lucas was helped by Avery to his tent for rest during the shift change.
Nothing happened that night. After Lucas fell asleep, Wade sat by the fire, half dozing.
The next day, the Tanians showed Wade the tied-up wolf pelts and detached wolf teeth. To lighten their load, the wolf teeth and pelts were loaded onto their ox cart. Wade also placed his deer skin bag on it.
In the morning, they boiled hot water to hydrate and cooked some rye porridge. The Tanians packed up their tents and straw mats.
“Let’s go,” Lucas said.
The farmers pulled the oxen’s ropes, the shepherds cracked their whips, and the group prepared to depart.
They entered the Klavi mountain path, advancing on the snow-covered slopes.
Light snow began falling that day. Everyone worked together to push the ox cart uphill. Even the children got off to climb.
The journey was tough, but fortunately, no avalanches or landslides occurred. By afternoon, they crossed the Klavi mountain path and reached a wide road.
Finally, there was a road, and wooden signs pointed to a mountain village called Bronte.
The villagers sighed in relief; some panted heavily, patting their chests.
They continued forward. At dusk, after turning a corner, they finally saw the stone houses nestled at the mountain’s foot. The houses were arranged irregularly like mushrooms sprouting from the earth.
Some were eager to enter the village. Lucas urged the villagers to hold on a bit longer; they would rest soon.
Their eyes were full of hope and gratefulness for surviving the disaster.
But Wade’s heart sank.
He stood at the front of the group, raising his hand, shaking his head, stopping them from moving forward.
That was a sight only he could see.
He saw no steady flames burning like those of the surrounding villagers.
Every corner of those stone houses was as desolate and dead silent as a tomb.
Unless his soul vision was distorted, only one possibility remained:
There was not a single living person left in that village.
Looking closely, he noticed no smoke rose from the chimneys.
Wade saw carrion crows resting on the rooftops. They preened their feathers and flew from place to place. The gathered crows formed a black mass, like messengers of death.