Chapter 14: A Strange Village
The sun had just risen, casting its morning light upon the land, and a cluster of low-lying buildings on the distant horizon gradually came into focus.
Sounds of children playing and adults calling out to each other drifted from afar. Abyss and Flora dismounted from the undead warhorse. With a snap of Abyss’s fingers, they emerged from the Shadow Realm once again. However, this time, the undead warhorse wasn’t absorbed into his ring. Instead, it transformed with a ripple of distortion from a semi-transparent spectral form into an ordinary black horse. Aside from its slightly red eyes, it was indistinguishable from a living horse.
Abyss looked at the distant buildings and scratched his head. “Tsk, this is clearly a village… and it seems quite populous.”
Flora was also puzzled by the sight before them. “Did that necromancer named Leiner trick us? We traveled for two days only to arrive at a village…”
“That shouldn’t be the case. When people lie, their souls fluctuate, and I can detect it. I’m certain Leiner didn’t lie to me, unless the address he received was fake…”
Indeed, it was a village. As they drew closer, the houses and settlements of the village came into full view. It was winter, and the fields were bare. Most of the villagers were idle. They wore clothes made of animal hides. Some men were setting out with bows and arrows, preparing to hunt nearby, while the women were busy sweeping away the snow that had fallen overnight in front of their houses. Smoke rose from the windows, and children were chasing each other gleefully in the village square. It was a village where life seemed relatively comfortable. Abyss estimated that there were about a hundred people in the village, including children.
“Travelers, where are you headed?” As they reached the entrance of the village, they were finally noticed by the busy villagers. An old man, sitting in front of his house chopping wood, asked.
“Well…” Abyss pulled out a thin booklet from his pocket and showed it to the villager. “I’m a bard, traveling with my assistant to gather inspiration. We want to see the local customs of your village.”
“Ah, I see!” the old man stroked his bushy white beard. “Everyone in the village will welcome you. Bards don’t often come to our remote little village.”
The children of the village gathered around curiously, staring at Abyss and Flora. Their clothes were of good quality, and Flora’s neat and elegant mage robe, in particular, captivated the children’s eyes. Several women also approached, and one of them said, “If you’re a bard, sir, please come to my house. We’re making breakfast and haven’t started eating yet. You’re welcome to rest for a while.”
“Eh? Won’t you find us bothersome?” Abyss asked, widening his eyes in surprise. “I thought farmers didn’t like bards very much.”
“You worry too much, sir. It’s a tradition in our village that as long as guests are polite, we will treat them with hospitality,” the old man said with a smile, putting down his axe. “Our village isn’t wealthy, but we have enough to spare. We can certainly afford to treat you to breakfast.”
“Bard brother, can you sing?” a child asked, jumping up and down with his hand raised.
“Yes, I can sing. But I charge a fee for my singing, and it’s quite expensive,” Abyss coughed. “But my assistant can sing for you for free.”
Flora, once again unwittingly sold out by Abyss, hurriedly waved her hands. “I’m not a good singer…”
“Sister’s voice is as beautiful as a nightingale’s. If she sings, all the boys in the village will fall in love with her!” a little girl exclaimed.
“No way! Girls are noisy and troublesome! We hate girls the most!” a little boy immediately retorted.
“Betty, Avril, stop making a fuss in front of our guests. Let them come inside and warm up by the fire first. Our village is so remote, they must have traveled a long way,” the woman who had invited Abyss and Flora for breakfast said, scolding the children while smiling politely at Abyss. “Bard, sir, please come with me. Please don’t mind our humble abode.”
Abyss and Flora exchanged glances and followed the woman. Although they had many doubts about this village, and the villagers’ enthusiasm made them uneasy, Abyss wasn’t worried that they would harm him or Flora. He had seen villagers do bad things before, but it usually involved laxatives and pitchforks, which were completely useless against him.
They entered the woman’s house. As soon as they stepped inside, the smell of stewing meat made Abyss sniff the air. The cookware seemed to have been placed on the fire before their arrival. A cast iron pot was steaming on the stove, and several halved baked potatoes were placed beside it. The warmth of the fire felt pleasant on Abyss’s face.
There were two beds in the room. An old man with a missing eye and half a leg sat on one of them. Upon seeing Abyss and Flora, he said to the woman, “Mary, we have guests?”
“Yes, Father. They are traveling bards from afar. I invited them for breakfast,” the woman replied. “We have enough stew today for everyone.”
“Good, good,” the old man nodded and said to Abyss, “Welcome, travelers from afar. Please forgive this old cripple for not being able to stand up to greet you.”
“We should be the ones thanking you. Although we have no money to offer, my assistant will sing for your children,” Abyss said.
Flora blushed, but she couldn’t contradict Abyss at this point, so she stood there silently, feeling wronged.
“Life is boring in winter. The children will be delighted,” the old man said with a smile.
The woman quickly served the stew, tossed a few more potatoes into the dying fire, and brought out the baked potatoes.
Abyss didn’t refuse. After a brief thank you, he started eating the food the woman offered.
He chewed carefully. The meat was fresh, probably venison caught yesterday. It was slightly bland due to the small amount of salt, but still delicious—most importantly, there was nothing else added to the stew. If the villagers had put any harmful herbs in it, Abyss would have tasted it instantly. Necromancers were specialized mages who often dealt with herbs, sometimes even resembling alchemists. Abyss’s nose and tongue were naturally sensitive to medicine. He could confidently say that this was just an ordinary stew. There was nothing wrong with that, but Abyss still felt strange. The villagers were all quite friendly, and he couldn’t sense any lies from them, but something felt off.
It seemed like they were… deliberately avoiding any conflict with outsiders?
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