Blackwater Town, the southernmost frontier stronghold of the Holy Garni Kingdom, was surrounded by complex and diverse terrain, making it a staging ground that adventurers flocked to.
To its north lay the ancient and winding King's Road. On this busy trade route, merchant caravans came and went in an endless stream, like blood flowing through veins, constantly transporting goods to the kingdom's southern commercial hub, Roan City.
To the east of Blackwater Town stretched an endless expanse of Misty Forest. The forest was riddled with swamps and miasma, where various low-level magical creatures bred wildly.
Every few years, they would surge forth like a tide, assaulting the town's defenses.
Crossing the entire Misty Forest would bring you to the Ancient Grange Dungeon.
This ancient city that had sunk underground ten thousand years ago held countless priceless treasures, along with tremendous danger.
To date, the kingdom's development of Ancient Grange Dungeon was limited to only the outermost areas. Even so, only the most elite and courageous adventurers could set foot inside.
South of Blackwater Town lay an enormous forest shrouded in eternal darkness and gloom, called the Everdusk Forest. Not a single ray of sunlight could penetrate this place.
The forest, spanning hundreds of kilometers, had become a natural paradise for the living dead. Every year, the kingdom dispatched teams of paladins and clerics deep into the forest to eliminate the most rampant undead creatures.
The western edge of Blackwater Town featured a section of Demon's Canyon, impassable to ordinary people.
The valley was littered with bones and jagged rocks. Even if one survived countless trials and tribulations to cross this canyon, what awaited travelers was only an endless desert of death.
Aside from a few warriors with special training inclinations, absolutely no one was willing to risk their lives entering this place.
Precisely because the area surrounding Blackwater Town produced an extremely diverse and abundant variety of magical creatures, merchant guilds and great mages from all over the kingdom were happy to invest here.
They either posted high-value bounty tasks or directly placed long-term purchase orders at the trading houses, making trade exceptionally active and the magical creature economy flourish.
The higher rewards compared to surrounding areas naturally attracted a large floating population.
Any young person who could lift a hoe could come to this town with dreams of becoming an adventurer and getting rich overnight. The former Orum had been one of them.
After two days of long travel, Orum finally saw Blackwater Town's towering walls once again.
Perhaps because he had rehearsed this moment countless times in his mind, Orum felt no joy whatsoever.
Instead, his gaze turned to the distance below the city walls, where a newly erected temporary refugee camp had appeared.
Orum could see many ragged tiefling refugees moving about in the camp.
Everyone had clearly suffered long-term hardship, their expressions silent and numb, merely doing their best to cooperate in setting up one crude tent after another.
A tiefling child was being chased and beaten with sticks by several human children.
He ran behind a passing adventurer, and while the passerby blocked the children's sticks, the tiefling child lifted the coins from the passerby's pocket.
"Where's my money?!"
The adventurer who'd been robbed flew into a rage. He turned to search for the tiefling child, only to discover the little brat had vanished without a trace.
"Hahahaha, you idiot!"
The adventurer's embarrassing display naturally drew laughter from other passersby. People in this era had very low moral standards.
Orum stood in the noisy street, quietly listening, learning about the origins of these tiefling refugees from others' conversations.
"Starting this month, Roan City has also begun implementing the kingdom's prohibition. All tieflings are forbidden from entering the city."
"They used to be citizens! Just kicked out like that?"
"Citizens? Hah, what kind of citizens are a bunch of criminals? Keeping them in the city would only ruin its appearance..."
"Sir, buy a flower." A tiefling little girl with a neat skirt hem and perfectly combed braids, carrying a flower basket, walked up to Orum.
She appeared to be only seven or eight years old, about 110 centimeters tall.
Carrying the oversized basket, she stumbled a bit, but still tried hard to stand steady.
She held out the blooming flowers to Orum and showed a sweet smile:
"Sir, buy a flower. Give it to a pretty lady and she'll definitely fall in love with you!"
"No thanks, you can't make change." Orum shook his head flatly, stopped looking at her, and turned to walk into the city.
Rejected so decisively, the tiefling girl's smile froze. She pressed her lips tight.
A few seconds later, her gaze turned toward a crude tent in the refugee camp where a gravely ill tiefling woman lay.
The girl's eyes grew slightly moist, but she held it back.
When facing the next passerby, her smile became as sweet as before:
"Sir, buy a flower."
...
Passing through the city wall, Orum proceeded along the main street and soon arrived at Blackwater Town's central district.
Along the way, Orum could see quite a few travel-worn adventurers, many with magical beast heads or other trophies hanging from their waists.
Some people, just to show off, deliberately carried magical beast heads from one end of the street to the other, then walked back again, enjoying the envious gazes cast by passersby.
The tallest building in the town center was Blackwater Town's Adventurer's Hall.
The main body of the Adventurer's Hall was a three-story square stone building, its surface carved with interlocking sword and shield reliefs.
Overall, it looked like an impregnable sacred fortress, giving adventurers infinite confidence and a sense of security.
In the open space before the hall, seven or eight young adventurers wearing leather armor and carrying various weapons had finished their preparations and were chatting in small groups.
"Did you hear? The goblins in Misty Forest are overrunning the place again. There are endless greenskins everywhere!" a young man said.
"Don't celebrate too soon. Goblins aren't easy to deal with. Their discipline is getting stronger and stronger now," said a more steady-looking youth holding a sword and shield.
"I'd say these goblins even understand tactical coordination better than ordinary adventuring parties!"
"Haha, you're really talking nonsense. Goblins are brainless creatures. I can take them down one by one. How did you make them sound so amazing!"
Another handsome warrior wielding dual blades crossed them in an X formation, striking a cool pose that attracted admiring glances from passersby.
...
They were obviously another team preparing to enter Misty Forest to eliminate magical creatures.
Seeing them, Orum suddenly thought of his former teammates.
Those two fellow villagers who had become adventurers with him hadn't even completed their first adventure before dying at Dorian's hands.
Now Orum had personally slain Dorian, completing his revenge.
But at this moment, the parents of his two fellow villagers probably still hadn't received news of their sons' deaths.
Orum entered the Adventurer's Hall. There were dozens of adventurers inside.
Fortunately, the number of staff was equally numerous, so there was no need to queue.
Orum looked around briefly, then walked straight to a black workstation and said:
"I need to register the deaths of two teammates."
The staff member wearing a white mask asked:
"Certainly. May I have your name? What are the names of the two team members?"
"My name is Orum. Their names are Hogg and Arthur."
After a thorough verification of information, Orum described in detail his two teammates' encounter in Misty Forest, glossing over other details.
The process of registering teammates' deaths was extremely tedious, but Orum remained patient throughout, filling out forms page by page and answering each question carefully.
By the time all procedures were completed, over an hour had passed.
"Please help me send three letters back to the village. One to my parents, and the other two to their families."
Orum took forty-two gold coins from his pocket.
Twenty were to be sent home, another twenty to the families of the two deceased, and two gold coins were for postage.
Twenty gold coins was already a fortune for this era's rural areas, enough for his parents to live comfortably for quite a long time.
After brief consideration, Orum added another section to the letter, mentioning his achievements in killing goblins and two bandits, as well as learning a combat technique.
The villagers were rough and aggressive. Adding this information was enough to show that Orum was a dangerous person. Only this way could he prevent his parents from suffering oppression because of this money.
After handling everything properly, Orum suddenly felt lighter inside, as if he'd set down a burden.
"Perhaps these were emotions left behind by my predecessor, driving me to finish these things."
Orum put aside his worries, rose from the black workstation, and approached the white workstation in the center of the Adventurer's Hall.
"Hello, welcome to the Adventurer's Hall! I'm receptionist Lila. I'm delighted to serve you!"
Behind the white workstation stood a girl with wine-red hair cascading like a waterfall and skin as white as jade.
Her face wore a professionally warm and enthusiastic smile. Her clear gaze fell on Orum without the slightest hint of contempt, instead appearing even more friendly.
"How may I help you?"
Neither Lila nor the white-masked staff member earlier paid any attention to Orum's current dirty and tattered clothing.
After all, for adventurers returning from subduing magical creatures, such bedraggled appearances were already commonplace.
Lila had even seen adventurers come to submit tasks with casts on their feet, pushing wheelchairs!
Orum's current intact body and free movement actually counted as respectable among these adventurers.
"I want to submit a bounty task."
Orum looked calmly at the girl before him and placed a heavy bag on the workstation's desk.
Looking at the bulging outline on this bag that looked exactly like a human head, receptionist Lila's smile froze somewhat.
"The bounty for Blood Wolf bandit chief Dorian," Orum explained calmly.
"This bag contains his head."