24: Chapter 20 Selva Village 24: Chapter 20 Selva Village The clear cry of an eagle echoed through the mountain forest, as the Griffin, after a hearty roar, lowered its head and gently touched the human in front of it with its beak.
Leon, puzzled, looked at it and felt a complex set of emotions in the creature’s gaze.
“…What is this?” he asked instinctively.
Of course, the beast, unable to speak the human language, naturally didn’t answer, but the Griffin still showed its intentions through action.
Its massive body slowly turned, taking a few heavy steps towards the other side of the forest, then looked back and chirped softly as if to say a final farewell, before flicking its tail and walking steadily into the distance.
Leon stared blankly at the retreating figure of the beast, feeling a sense of loss.
Is it leaving already?
Logically, wasn’t it supposed to become his mount and companion from now on, with him embarking on the pinnacle of life as a Griffin Knight?
During his journey, Leon even preemptively fantasized about the Griffin’s name…Death Claw.
Unfortunately, Death Claw chose to return to the mountain forest.
Leon shook his head, somewhat regretfully putting aside his unrealistic fantasies.
Even if it truly wanted to accompany him, he couldn’t afford to keep such a large beast on his destitute and nomadic path; who knows how much it needed to eat.
Without substantial financial and material resources to provide for such a top-of-the-food-chain legendary creature, the wild was still its paradise of freedom.
He turned to look at Azeryan and Lokhak, then looked down at himself.
After their arduous journey, the three of them looked only marginally better than wild men, disheveled and dirty-faced.
Apart from Lokhak, who wore tattered chain armor, the others had lost their clothes on the run.
Both were bare-chested, with only ragged hemp trousers full of holes, looking like beggar’s attire.
Azeryan, because of an injured foot, wore the boots of a mercenary, while Leon and Lokhak didn’t even have straw sandals; fortunately, both had tough soles and were used to going barefoot.
They need to return to civilization soon; at this rate, they’d become wild men.
Leon felt for the coins in his belt pouch, relieved that the dozen or so silver coins he’d tightly packed and taken from a mercenary hadn’t vanished during their escape.
This money should be enough to buy many useful things.
“Let’s check out that village, and see if we’ve left the Kantadar Kingdom,” suggested Leon.
He called out, and they continued through the forest, heading towards the village in the distance.
The descent from the mountain went smoothly.
They encountered no more mishaps and soon, following the forest’s edge, arrived near the small village.
Stepping out of the forest, they saw the large expanse of farmland, and the signs of human society brought a bit of relief to the youths.
“Same as usual, I’ll go check out the village first.
If this is still within the Kantadar Kingdom, you two should stay back since you don’t speak Uria Language,” said Azeryan.
Leon nodded, but when he saw Lokhak making motions to take off his chain armor, he raised a hand to stop him: “No need.
If you go with your blood-stained, ragged armor, Azeryan will draw unnecessary trouble.”
Speaking, Leon simply took off his armed belt, along with the pouch of coins and the treasure sword, and handed them all to Azeryan.
Not knowing the local customs, it would be safer for Azeryan to enter the village alone, armed with the remarkably powerful Dwarf Steel Longsword.
Hiding back in the woods, Leon and Lokhak waited patiently for Azeryan to return with news.
This wait became quite long, and they both started to grow worried.
Just when Leon was about to go search for him, Azeryan’s figure finally appeared at the end of the path through the fields.
It appeared he was carrying quite a few things, and even before he got close to where his companions hid, Azeryan called out excitedly, beckoning for the two who were waiting to come over.
Leon and Lokhak sighed with relief, it seemed he had spent the time shopping in the village.
Jogging over to his companion’s side, they saw that he was holding a pile of new clothes and shoes, and it seemed that wrapped within the bunched-up garments were some bread, cheese, and a water bag.
“The village is full of Felu people like us, we have successfully left Kantadar,” Azeryan said with a smile, sharing the news gathered from the villagers with his companions.
Leon felt a great relief in his heart, they had finally made it out.
“This place is in the southwest part of the Orland Kingdom, the Kosos County, and that little village is called Selva.
This land belongs to a Baron by the name of Farolis.” As he spoke, Azeryan handed over three sets of clothes, shoes, and food to his companion, “I asked the villagers, and there’s a stream not far from here.
Let’s go wash up and then change into these clothes.”
So, the group walked along, clutching their new garments and eating the much-missed normal food, their conversation lightening.
They didn’t walk far before reaching the riverside, where after satisfying their hunger, the three washed off the dirt accumulated over the past few days in the river water.
Stepping onto the bank, they dried off their bodies with old clothes.
Leon donned the newly purchased linen waistcoat and leather shoes, buckled on his armed belt and sword, and smoothed his hair while gazing at the river’s reflection, feeling somewhat human again.
The three sat down under a tree by the river and counted the remaining coins.
From the original eighteen silver coins, only eight were left, and they had also gained an extra seven small silver coins in local circulation as change, apparently called “Dier.”
According to Azeryan, the Orland people use four types of coins: copper coins, silver Dier, Silver Naler, and gold crowns.
The value of these currencies increased in increments of ten, and it seemed that the coins from Kantadar were valued lower here in Orland, with the villagers willing to trade them for only eighty percent of their local value.
So, just buying three sets of clothing, shoes, and belts cost them nine Kantadar silver coins, which is the local equivalent of seven Naler and two Dier.
The three leather water bags and food cost them a total of one Dier.
After converting the values, they concluded that the money they had in hand now amounted to 7.1 Silver Naler in local currency.
Leon weighed the money pouch, which had halved in size.
Although he was unsure of the exact prices in Orland, his intuition told him that the villagers had definitely overcharged them.
After much thought, he came to terms with it.
Being taken advantage of in a foreign land was quite normal, wasn’t it?
In his previous life on Earth, tourists were fleeced even worse at scenic spots.
In this foreign backwater, getting swindled out of money, as opposed to being butchered in the literal sense, was already quite fortunate.
After securely storing the silver coins, without an income, they had to be frugal with their spending.
He glanced at the knight’s sword on his waist.
Leon thought that if he could sell this opulent Noble Treasure Sword, it would surely fetch a good sum, enough to cover the trio’s long-term expenses for food, clothing, and shelter.
However, such a valuable item could obviously only find a reputable buyer in a city.
Chatting away, as the tension eased further, they found themselves yawning under the tree.
In the safe environment, weariness and exhaustion crept over everyone, and Leon wondered where they should rest for the night.
“There’s someone coming over there!”
In the midst of their conversation, Lokhak suddenly slapped Leon’s shoulder in alarm.
Leon and Azeryan followed his gaze.
Indeed, there were a few men coming from the direction of the village, making a beeline for them by the river, their intentions seeming quite clear.
Leon immediately stood up, his hand on his weapon, on guard.
He had good eyesight and could see that the men, dressed like villagers, were not old; they were all young adults or older.
Some had daggers at their belts, others slung short swords over their shoulders, their expressions and demeanor aggressive.
“What should we do…should we run?” Azeryan hesitated, looking at Leon.
Leon frowned, a nameless anger rising in his heart…
They had been on the run, avoiding the Kantadar people, being chased by Horror Mountain Bears, and fleeing from Demons and Undead, and now, after traveling tens of thousands of miles, they had to run from a few backwoods villagers causing trouble?
Did he look like an easy target?
“We haven’t done anything, why should we run?
Let’s see what they want first.
If we run away without reason, we’ll look guilty, which could lead to more misunderstandings,” Leon shook his head.
Truth be told, he didn’t consider these ordinary farmers much of a threat; compared to the Wild Goblins they had previously encountered, these men were less menacing.