Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 527: Lost

As Asher left the merchant building known as All That You Need, he had already removed his disguise entirely, and this time he walked around with his real face exposed, no longer using his light manipulation skill to craft an illusionary disguise, as he was essentially finished with everything he needed to accomplish inside, and without the need to conceal himself, he moved through the streets with a calm step as he looked around, as this was after all his first time at the Thornvein County.

"Excuse me, where can I find the caravan at the south?" he asked a random fruit seller, after all, he couldn’t just magically walk there since he didn’t know the place, nor was he familiar with the layout of the roads or districts, and wandering aimlessly would only waste time he did not intend to squander.

The fruit seller looked at Asher from head to toe, his eyes carefully scrutinizing every inch of clothing and armor as though assessing his worth, then spoke, "Buy something from me and I will tell you," the man stated as he met Asher’s gaze, his tone carrying the sly sharpness of a merchant who had spent years squeezing coins out of reluctant customers.

Asher stared at the man with an amused expression before he replied, "Tell me and you might get to keep your head," he stated calmly with a relaxed smile on his face, the kind of smile that did not reach his eyes. He didn’t release any presence to intimidate the man, nor did he allow his aura to leak out even slightly, yet the quiet certainty in his words felt heavier than any visible threat, and he was absolutely sure that his voice alone would be enough.

The man immediately frowned, his body paling slightly as he swallowed hard, and he didn’t doubt Asher’s words for even a second, because in this world there was nothing like a police officer who would investigate his death and bring justice or fairness. If he died, someone else would simply take over his stall space and start selling something different as though he had never existed at all, after all, people died every single day without consequence, without memorial, without even a second thought, so nobody truly cared about one more body lying cold in an alley.

He didn’t hesitate any further; he pointed Asher in the correct direction as he explained a few additional details with hurried breaths, adding small landmarks and turns that would make the path easier to follow. Asher simply smiled and nodded before walking away, because just because he had a considerable amount of money didn’t mean any random person could force him to spend it, and he certainly had no intention of rewarding opportunistic behavior.

Asher couldn’t help but consider how another student would have begun this mission under similar circumstances. Even if they managed to reach Thornvein County, they would still need coins to handle a few necessities, which Asher knew all students simply didn’t possess in any amounts.

But at the same time, earning coins was extremely simple within Crymora, almost laughably so for anyone with even minimal strength, since all a student needed to do was kill a monster or a beast, sell its corpse or materials, and then do whatever they wanted with the funds that followed.

Within a couple of minutes, Asher arrived at his destination, although it might have looked deceptively near at first glance, it was actually several kilometers away, and Asher himself had moved at a moderately high speed to cover such distance without drawing attention too much himself.

The Rivelle Barony was already vast enough to feel like a small state on its own, stretching largely with layered districts and trade routes, and now, imagining how large the Thornvein County was made it seem almost absurd, especially considering that it stood two ranks higher than the Rivelle Barony in terms of noble hierarchy and territorial authority.

Asher shifted his head slightly to the side when he heard loud noises and overlapping sounds, the clatter of wood against stone and the rough grunts of laborers carrying weight. People were moving crates from various carriages into a few buildings, and then from those buildings they moved more crates elsewhere in an endless, repetitive cycle.

They were around eighty in number, each one focused on their work with practiced precision as they moved almost like a single organism rather than separate individuals. They were all commoners, yet about seventy of the eighty of them were awakened, although none of them appeared particularly high within the Life Rank, their energies faint and somewhat a bit refined compared to true combatants.

But it didn’t matter to them at all, because this was simply their way of life, their routine carved out by necessity rather than ambition, and they were all over thirty years of age, weathered by years of labor under the sun. The majority of them were men, as out of the eighty, women barely accounted for up to ten in number, and even those few worked with the same calm expressions and calloused hands as the rest, long past the point of complaint.

"Hey kid, what are you doing around here?" Asher heard a voice from the side, drawing his attention away from the steady rhythm of work. It belonged to an older man who seemed to be in his late fifties, his hair streaked with gray and his skin rough like aged leather, he had noticed Asher staring for a little too long and decided to call out to him.

Asher’s purple gaze shifted toward the direction of the man, sharp yet calm, and he didn’t hesitate as he simply walked toward him since there was no need to shout across a distance like a madman and attract unnecessary attention.

"Good afternoon, sir," Asher greeted, as it was already noon, his voice soft and gentle, carrying an unexpected politeness. Although he had been in this world for over a year and possessed power that placed him far above ordinary people, Asher hadn’t grown arrogant or begun looking down on others, and he still greeted elderly people with respect whether they were commoners or nobles, because to him people were simply people, and that was all there was to it, titles and status being nothing more than fragile labels.

"Afternoon, kid, you seem lost, but then again, you seem too rich to be lost," the man stated as he had already concluded Asher was a wealthy boy, since he could easily tell that Asher’s clothes were expensive, coupled with the unmistakable quality of his breastplate, vambraces, and greaves, equipment that ordinary travelers could never afford.

"I am indeed lost, as this is my first time within the Thornvein County," Asher answered. The man was sitting on a staircase in front of a building into which others were moving the crates, and Asher calmly lowered himself onto the staircase and sat beside the man without hesitation.

’Brightstar Life Rank,’ Asher thought to himself as he took note of the man’s Life Rank, sensing the steady but limited energy within him. Although the man was already in his fifties, this was likely the furthest his talent could ever carry him, and from here onward any further growth would be painfully slow.

"You are in luck then, I happen to know the Thornvein County as though I built it myself, just ask anything and I will direct you," the man stated as he stared at Asher with a calm expression and a small, confident smile, clearly proud of his familiarity with the area.

"I’ve accepted a mission, and I need to get to Blackstone Village, but I’ve asked every merchant and store owner, yet no one seems to possess any map that has routes leading in that direction," Asher explained with a composed expression, not bothering to beat around the bush or hide his purpose.

Hearing Asher say the phrase Blackstone Village, the man’s face immediately darkened into a deep frown as though he had just heard the most unpleasant word in his life, and the shift in atmosphere around him was subtle but unmistakable.

With Asher’s sharp senses, he didn’t miss it at all... well, the man wasn’t exactly trying to hide it either, as there was simply nothing to conceal, and whatever that name represented clearly carried weight heavy enough to stir unease even in someone who had seen decades of hardship.