Chapter 6: The Youth Gradually Stained with Blood
Chapter 6: Chapter 6: The Youth Gradually Stained with Blood
The commotion at the village entrance naturally drew the attention of the villagers. Gossipy neighbors poked their heads out of their homes, eager to watch the show.
In the tavern, which was even closer to the scene, several men playing cards also heard the ruckus outside.
A burly, sallow-faced man wearing chainmail under a blue tabard with a white emblem put down his cards and stood up, grumbling.
"I’m out for now. Going to go take a look."
With that, he casually swept his hand across the table, scattering the cards.
The others couldn’t help but chuckle.
This Captain Basque was a good man in all respects, except for his terrible sportsmanship when it came to gambling.
Was he genuinely trying to fulfill his duties as the captain of the guard? Or was he just using it as an excuse to escape a losing hand?
Everyone knew the answer as clear as day.
Still, on a cold winter day like this, playing cards all the time did get boring. It was better to go see what the commotion was about.
Basque stepped out of the tavern. The cold air rushed into his collar, but it didn’t make his thick, brush-stroke-like eyebrows twitch in the slightest.
He first glanced casually at the group of layabouts scuffling at the village entrance, but his gaze was soon drawn to a flash of pure white moving in his line of sight.
Only then did he notice the disheveled figure carrying it.
As the captain of the Nomu Village guard, he of course recognized Jon.
The kid that old Anran and his wife had found, the one he’d watched grow up.
But it was precisely because he knew him that he was particularly sensitive to the change in the boy.
If the Jon from before had been just another unremarkable village simpleton, the one standing before him now was a true Warrior who had seen blood.
Soaked in blood yet his expression remained unchanged; he held his blade and walked with a natural, imposing air!
You could tell at a glance he had been through a life-or-death battle in the hunting grounds!
As for the source of the commotion, how could someone as experienced as old Basque not know?
The answer was that patch of white on young Jon’s back—so pure it was dazzling!
"Good kid... Not bad luck..."
The captain of the guard grumbled under his breath and started walking toward the village entrance.
’These good-for-nothing hooligans are asking for a beating!’
At the same time, however, he was mulling over something else.
’Last time I was drinking with those brats, didn’t they say something about the Viscount’s household recruiting guards?’
’Hmm... No need to rush... The kid’s probably not qualified... I’ll just watch and see for now...’
On the other side, Jon had naturally felt Basque’s gaze on him, but since he sensed no ill intent, he simply pretended not to notice.
This was partly to maintain his persona as the "Calamity Star" by not talking to people, and partly to avoid trouble.
This snow fox was a great prize, but it was just too flashy.
It easily attracted trouble.
Better to sell it off quickly!
Jon followed the original owner’s memories, walking through the village with ease. While occasionally sidestepping the "landmines" on the ground, he also observed the village’s appearance.
It was both familiar and strange.
Familiar, because his predecessor had grown up in this village, and nearly every corner corresponded to a scene from his fragmented memories.
Strange, because it was completely different from how he remembered it in *Yino*.
His starting location in *Yino* was indeed White Birch Territory, but at that time, the game had been live for nearly a year. The entire game world had undergone massive changes due to the arrival of players and various Major Events, and even a remote little village like Nomu was no exception.
As one of the supply points for the Shery Mountain range—a massive map containing monsters from level 1 to 70 and several small-to-medium-sized Dungeon clusters—Nomu Village had been expanded into Nomu Town. It had attracted countless players and guilds, who established themselves there. The town had everything an adventurer could need, and its prosperity rivaled that of some major cities.
But this dilapidated state—filthy, full of mud, without a single decent brick or stone building—was something Jon had never seen before.
This also served as a reminder to him.
No players had been here yet.
’Based on some clues from my predecessor’s memories, this should be the early stages of the game’s story, or even earlier... After all, the current emperor of the Harvia Empire is still old Hein, and his daughter Belina hasn’t taken the throne yet...’
’In other words, everything has returned to a time before the story even began...’
Jon felt a little depressed as he thought about this.
Because he had started playing the game late, he had missed many of the far-reaching events from the first year after launch. However, he’d heard the gist of them from his friends when they were bragging during their adventures.
Take the Harvia Empire, where he was from. If the timeline hadn’t changed, two major things were about to happen.
First, the old emperor Hein Benitez would die, and the various Princes and Princesses would fight over the throne. This was the [War of the Scepter].
Second, the Matia Religious Country, which had always had a poor relationship with the Harvia Empire, would seize the opportunity of the unstable transition of imperial power to brazenly launch a war. This was the [Holy War of Faith].
Both of these were [Major Events] with far-reaching consequences that would affect the situation on the entire Yino Continent, and the destinies of countless people were tied to them.
Jon had experienced the [Holy War of Faith]. After all, that war had raged from the day the game launched until its third year, only stopping because of other Major Events. Having started in the second year, he had managed to catch the tail end of it after leveling up for a while, reaping quite a few benefits.
But the [War of the Scepter] was a different story.
This Major Event happened relatively early on, and most players were still weak at the time. Only a small number of top-tier players were fortunate enough to participate.
Although those players later released documentary-style "quest explanation" videos, he hadn’t watched a single one!
Seriously, who has the time to watch outdated lore videos!
But who could have guessed that he, Jon, would actually transmigrate into the game?
Transmigrating into the game was one thing, but why couldn’t it have been at the point in time when he started playing, instead of before anything had even happened?
One could only say that everything is preordained by fate.
This was where the downside of not being a hardcore lore-junkie player became apparent.
If one of those "lore nuts" who obsessed over every little detail came to this world, imagine how easy they would have it.
Unlike him, Jon only knew the general outline and outcome of the early events; the specific details were just scattered, fragmented bits of information.
’Sigh... I’m so tired...’
The young man’s footsteps followed his wandering thoughts around a couple of turns, finally stopping in front of a semi-open Blacksmith Shop.
Even in the dead of winter, he could feel a wave of heat from a distance. In the blast furnace, which seemed as if it would never be extinguished, flames leaped ceaselessly.
And Jon reined in his wandering thoughts.
The Major Events and all that were still too far off for him.
How laughable for an ant to presume to discuss the fate of the world.
Without strength, everything was just empty talk.
The most important task right now was to get stronger, fast. He could think about everything else later.
Jon glanced up at the Blacksmith Shop’s sign, compared it with his predecessor’s memory, and nodded to himself.
’This is the place. Silverbeard’s Blacksmith Shop.’
This was the only place where his predecessor could trade things like rabbit pelts and bird feathers for daily necessities.
Because the owner here couldn’t care less about the ignorant villagers’ bullshit "Calamity Star" theory and held not a shred of prejudice against Jon.
As long as the goods were useful, he would take them!
And this short, kind-hearted man with a thick beard was currently dozing by the forge, his snores even louder than the roar of the fire. A few coal-dust-covered schematics were scattered on the ground beside his hand.
It was a Dwarf Blacksmith who both his predecessor and he himself knew well.
Sutton Silverbeard!