As the sun went down, they finally reached the castle gates.
"Prepare a bath for our two hunters. And arrange a clean room," the
Baron ordered.
He turned to Edward and Jim with a satisfied smile.
"Now that this matter is settled, we must celebrate. Surely both of you
will stay for the feast, yes?"
"Yes, my lord. A feast without me is no fun," Jim laughed loudly.
Then both men looked at Edward.
"Hm. Why not. Some rest might do me good," Edward said in his usual
cold tone.
"Perfect," the Baron replied. "Now go. I need you two alive and lively
for the celebration."
Night had fallen.
Moonlight poured through the open window of the bath chamber,
painting the steam with silver glow.
Edward rested in the hot water, eyes half-closed, letting the warmth
soften the soreness in his muscles.
A knock suddenly echoed through the room.
"Sir, may I come in?"
A calm, warm voice.
"Enter," Edward said.
A maid—not too young, not too old—stepped inside with neatly folded
clothes in her arms.
She placed a clean white towel on the chair, along with Edward's freshly
washed original clothes and a comfortable set prepared for him.
"Sir, the Baron ordered these to be brought to you. The laundry has also
cleaned and repaired your armor. Is there anything else you need?" she
asked gently.
Edward looked at her for a moment.
"No. Thank you."
She bowed politely and left.
Edward leaned back again, staring at the moon framed by the window.
"I need to move faster… to the next town. Maybe they have more
information about her."
Twenty minutes later, he stepped out of the tub, dried himself, dressed,
and gathered his belongings.
"At least I can make use of this noble hospitality," he muttered to
himself as he walked toward his assigned room.
It was warm inside. Clean.
A hot soup, fresh bread, and well-cooked meat waited for him at the
table.
He ate silently, exhausted, and the moment he slipped under the
blanket—
He was asleep.
The noise of soldiers and the courtyard crowd finally woke him.
It was already noon.
Edward changed back into his original clothes and headed outside
toward the stable.
His horse snorted softly as he approached.
"Edward!" Jim called.
"Awake already, I see. Hehe."
"What's with that weird expression?" Edward asked flatly.
"What do you mean? This is how I always look. Don't tell me you didn't
know."
"How the fuck should I know? We met two days ago."
"True enough. Anyway—where's your next destination?" Jim asked.
"None of your business. And even if I wanted to tell you, why do you
want to know?"
Jim shrugged.
"Well… now that this Boslame matter is dealt with, I need to hit the
road again. And who better to travel with than the man I killed a monster
beside? If we're heading the same way, of course."
"I'm going to Redin."
"Nice. I'm going there too," Jim said immediately.
"So what do you say? Roads are safer when you're not alone."
Edward raised an eyebrow.
"Why do I feel like no matter where I said I was going, you would've
said the same?"
"Who knows?" Jim laughed.
"So—you're coming to the feast, right?"
"I am," Edward replied.
"But first, I need supplies. It's a long road to Redin. If you're joining
me, I suggest you do the same."
"Aye aye, captain," Jim muttered jokingly. "I shall do that."
Edward slung his medium-sized bag over his shoulder and walked
through the crowded main street toward the city center.
The stone road—cracked, dusty, and old—stretched from the city gate
all the way to the castle. It must've been laid at least a century ago.
Shops and stalls overflowed with people.
Taverns were loud and packed.
It was the last wave of caravans passing through before autumn brought
cold, rain, and snow.
The Kingdom of Radan lay in the eastern part of the northern continent.
To its east stretched the Great Ocean of Carleon,
to the northeast the Sea of Northhelm,
and to the south the vast Bay of Slavers.
North of Radan rose the Great Mountains of Rivia, and beyond them
the lands known simply as the Deep North and home of the nomads,
wilding tribe, and some other more developed countries
To the northwest lay a powerful duchy of Escland.
To the west of Radan were several other realms, but the greatest among
them was the Holy Kingdom of Moons, a massive nation built upon
lands reclaimed from the demons some 500 years ago.
The Barony of Morhen—where Edward now rested—stood in the
southern region of Radan.
Radan once held vast territories—forty-five duchies in the west and
southwest alone.
Now only thirteen duchies remained, along with twenty-three counties
and twenty baronies.
No unifying ruler held them together anymore.
They were fragile, impoverished, and constantly struggling against
famine, sickness, and monsters—especially against the underground Orc
kingdoms.
Ever since Radan's collapse, the Orcs had emerged from their caverns,
spreading across the lands like a plague.
By contrast, the eastern and northern territories of Radan remained
stronger, richer, more stable.
Life there was far better than in the suffering borderlands of the
southwest.
This region's climate was moderate: warm summers, cold winters.
Each year had twenty-six months—
five months of summer,
six months of autumn,
seven months of spring,
and eight harsh months of winter.