—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The prison city of Olpasbet, while predominantly populated by prisoners, wasn’t exclusively so.
There were some residents who weren’t prisoners, individuals who legitimately owned property and businesses.
The innkeeper was one of them, among the highest-ranking individuals in the city outside of those directly employed by the lord.
Olpasbet, with its constant influx of travelers, had a high demand for inns. And those who frequented them were often wealthy individuals drawn to the city’s shadowy allure, meaning they were generally free with their coin.
As such, the inns were expensive, and the meals weren’t cheap.
The innkeeper had initially doubted whether this shabbily dressed traveler and prisoner could afford a meal, but after Aslan produced a few silver coins from his belt, the food was brought out without hesitation.
A whole roasted bird and boiled eggs.
A rich red stew filled with mushrooms, potatoes, carrots, radishes, and a unique root vegetable that resembled a cross between a turnip and ginseng.
A meal fit for a lord’s table, served to the girl.
The girl, her initial wariness forgotten, devoured the food with gusto.
She tore at the bird, stuffing pieces of meat into her mouth, peeled and ate the boiled eggs, and practically inhaled the stew, satisfying her ravenous hunger.
The other patrons, enjoying their meals and drinks, glanced at her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, but the girl paid them no mind.
Aslan wasn’t bothered by the stares either.
He sat mostly still, lost in thought.
A translucent window hovered before his eyes.
[Active Main Quests]
[Escape with Angela Tail]
He now knew the girl’s name was Angela Tail.
The Dragonkin chasing her had called her that, and the quest had appeared immediately after he saw her.
It would be strange if she wasn’t Angela Tail.
What bothered Aslan was why the main quest, linked to this girl, had appeared after seeing her.
This quest hadn’t existed in the game he had played religiously twelve years ago.
He had explored every nook and cranny of the game, completing every sub quest and main quest, and this particular quest was entirely unfamiliar.
He had no clues. He had been locked out of main quests for twelve years with no explanation, so how could he know?
There were no leads, no hints, no plausible theories. Aslan decided further contemplation was pointless. The important thing was not to miss this opportunity.
Escape with this ravenous girl. That was the primary objective, and this situation wasn’t bad.
Escaping together required trust and goodwill.
If a few silver coins and a hearty meal could be the first step in building that trust, he considered it a bargain.
He wasn’t just going to feed the girl and send her on her way, though. Aslan closed the system window and turned his attention to her.
The girl was a typical Olpasbet prisoner.
Relatively clean clothes, suggesting she hadn’t been imprisoned long, but still shabby. A gleaming white restraint around her neck.
Despite her short imprisonment, it was clear she hadn’t lived a comfortable life before this.
Her rough, aggressive demeanor, her wary nature, her thin limbs – all pointed to a life of hardship.
Her surname, Tail, was the surname of the commoners in Belus Alpen. Aslan easily deduced that she was a slum dweller.
That explained her hostility towards the Dragonkin and her heightened sense of vigilance.
The problem was, slum dwellers rarely left Belus Alpen.
Hoping for a clue related to the main quest, Aslan waited until the girl’s eating slowed down before speaking.
“Want more?”
The girl shook her head. The food before her was almost gone.
“Then can I ask you something?”
“…Sure.”
Despite her curt tone, her expression was relaxed with satiation, the suspicion in her eyes noticeably lessened. The hungry were easily swayed by food.
“What’s your name?”
“…Angie.”
Angie. A nickname or shortened version of Angela. Aslan felt relieved. He’d been worried she might not be the Angela Tail.
“Angie. Easy to remember, I like it. I’m Aslan.”
“…Aslan. Easy to remember too.”
“Thanks. So, Angie, you don’t have to answer if it’s too personal, but how did you end up here?”
Olpasbet was, at its core, a prison city.
While it had a service industry and mining operations that utilized prisoner labor, its primary function was incarceration.
The imprisoned were often common criminals, but there were also those who had earned the ire of nobles, or nobles who had lost in political power struggles.
Angie didn’t look like a noble, so Aslan assumed there was a specific reason, perhaps a painful one, behind her imprisonment.
His assumption seemed correct. The girl fidgeted with her plate, her expression troubled.
“…I lost a fight. They brought me here.”
She didn’t specify who she fought or why, but Aslan didn’t press her.
Instead, he asked a simple question.
“Did the people you fought with have a red flag or a blue flag?”
The red flag belonged to Count Warfall, and the blue to Count Scholunkund. Both had fought in the battle at Nechagni where Aslan had been employed.
They were constantly embroiled in territorial disputes, and their mercenaries frequently clashed along their shared border.
Angie answered readily, confirming Aslan’s suspicion that she had been a mercenary.
“Red.”
“So you were a mercenary for Count Warfall. The flag with the white horse on a red background, right?”
Count Warfall was the lord who controlled Nechagni.
Count Scholunkund, his rival, controlled Olpasbet and also held Baron Olpasbet as a vassal.
While it was practically a given that she was under Count Warfall, considering her imprisonment in Olpasbet, Aslan believed it was important to listen and show empathy.
He could already infer several things.
For instance, she likely wasn’t a direct subordinate of Count Warfall.
She was a commoner, unlikely to have received proper combat training, let alone extensive experience.
It was highly improbable that such a girl would work directly under the count.
“…Uh, yeah. That’s right.”
The girl’s eyes widened as if she had just remembered. She nodded.
Aslan pieced together how she likely ended up here.
It probably started with a mercenary band visiting Belus Alpen.
They would have been looking for new recruits, and the ignorant slum dwellers of Belus Alpen would have been easy targets.
The promise of rewards for battle, regular wages, and the chance to escape Belus Alpen and travel with a mercenary band would have seemed like a lifeline to some, and Angie likely jumped at the opportunity.
‘But they lost. And considering she’s here alone…’
Aslan didn’t voice his assumptions, instead prompting her to speak.
“Where are your comrades? You said you were part of a mercenary band.”
Angie’s expression darkened at his question. The way she bit her lip spoke volumes about the fate of her mercenary band.
They had either fled or been killed.
Since she was here alone, Aslan easily guessed the answer and spoke before she could.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
The girl looked uncomfortable at his words, but her expression softened after a moment of silence.
She was a prisoner. Olpasbet was always looking for new inmates. Whoever captured her likely sold her for a decent price.
Aslan organized the information he had gleaned from the girl and his own deductions.
‘…There’s still no connection to the main quest.’
She wasn’t someone who should trigger a main quest, and she wasn’t involved in any event related to a main quest.
Yet, he had clearly seen her name in the main quest window.
The first main quest in the game had also been an escape, so Aslan briefly wondered if that was the reason, but it was too absurd.
If that were true, it would mean this girl before him was the protagonist.
Aslan shook his head, dismissing the thought. Just then, the inn doors burst open.
“…There you are.”
A deep voice boomed, silencing the boisterous inn.
The patrons turned to look at the entrance, and Aslan, seeing Angie’s expression harden, turned around.
“I heard a traveler brought you to the inn. I see it’s true.”
It was the Dragonkin.
The Dragonkin warrior who had been chasing her, the one who had demanded she submit to him.
He stood at the entrance, flanked by several men, his gaze fixed on Aslan and Angie.
“I don’t know what this traveler tempted you with, but don’t accept it so readily. Even without such enticements, I, Harod Claw, protect those who deserve protection. You don’t need to accept the filth of this city.”
The Dragonkin, who identified himself as Harod Claw, strode into the inn.
At just over two meters tall, his presence immediately caused a stir.
Patrons near the entrance quickly vacated their seats and slipped outside, unwilling to get involved.
Only the innkeeper’s face darkened at the loss of customers.
“And you, traveler. I don’t know what desires you’re trying to fulfill with this girl, but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave her alone.”
Aslan realized the Dragonkin’s words were directed at him, and he felt a flicker of annoyance.
The Dragonkin seemed to think he was some kind of pervert trying to lure Angie with food and money to satisfy some twisted desire.
It wasn’t an unreasonable assumption, considering most travelers who came to Olpasbet were exactly that kind of person.
“…This is going to be a pain.”
Being mistaken for something he wasn’t, especially something so repulsive, irritated him.
Aslan stood up from his chair, gestured for the girl to remain seated, and turned to face the Dragonkin.
“So a group of men beating up a young girl is acceptable, but showing compassion and buying her a meal isn’t?”
Aslan met the Dragonkin’s gaze. The Dragonkin’s eyes narrowed, and he approached.
The sound of his thick tail scraping against the wooden floorboards echoed through the inn, stopping just short of Aslan.
Harod frowned.
“Traveler, there are things you don’t understand. You can’t possibly grasp our way of life, being a mere traveler.”
His tail twitched slightly as he spoke. Aslan followed the movement with his eyes, his own narrowing.
“If you don’t back down, I’ll have to resort to force.”
Harod adopted a fighting stance. Aslan, seeing the Dragonkin poised to attack, lowered his gaze and reached for his belt.
A mace hung there.
The patrons who saw it looked surprised.
Until that moment, no one had noticed he was carrying a weapon.
Not even Harod, who stood ready for a fight.
Aslan spoke, his eyes still lowered.
“Try it.”
The low murmur was chilling. It wasn’t a threat, but a cold, hard warning.
Aslan disliked fighting. He disliked killing. But if he had to fight, he wouldn’t hesitate.
The coldness in his voice, the subtle hint of lethal intent, was more potent than expected. Harod flinched.
Harod Claw was a warrior.
Claw was the surname given to the warrior caste of Belus Alpen. Dragonkin bearing the Claw name were trained as warriors from a young age.
A skilled and experienced warrior could assess the strength of their opponent and predict the outcome of a fight.
And his instincts, honed by years of training, were screaming at him.
He swallowed, his gaze fixed on Aslan’s cold, teal eyes.
Silence descended upon the inn. Even the grumbling innkeeper watched them with unease.
Aslan broke the silence, his hand still resting on his belt.
“I’ve rented Angie. But I promise you, nothing untoward will happen, despite your assumptions.”
Rented.
Paying the lord a fee to have a prisoner as a servant for the duration of one’s stay in the city.
With the lord involved, Harod couldn’t do anything.
Harod stared at Aslan and Angie in silence for a moment, then turned and left the inn.
Aslan removed his hand from his belt and adjusted his cloak, concealing the weapon.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Outside the inn, Harod Claw wiped his brow, exhaling deeply.
The pent-up breath escaped his large frame in a rush, carrying the faint scent of tension.
The bald man who had followed him out glanced back at Angie, still seated inside the inn.
“Harod, why did you back down? A warrior of your caliber could easily handle someone like him…”
“No.”
Harod cut him off, looking at the back of his hand.
Dragonkin didn’t sweat. Yet, his hand felt clammy.
He brushed his hand against his clothes, his expression grim.
“We would have all died if I had fought him.”
His subordinate’s eyes widened in surprise at the stark declaration. Harod glanced back at the inn.
“I don’t know how such a monster ended up here, but… if he’s rented her, he won’t keep her forever. We’ll wait for another opportunity.”
His subordinate’s face fell, but he didn’t question him further.
After they left, Aslan thought to himself.
‘I really do need to rent her before they come back.’
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
