Two rugged-looking guards and a merchant exuding a rather pompous aura. Their collective ego could be summed simply; they had a demeanor that would make any unknowing bystander believe that the place they walked into was owned by said three stooges.

The dining few that remained in the inn earlier, though, now began sneaking their way either upstairs or outside as the trio paraded toward the counter. It was quite apparent that no one wanted to involve themselves in the upcoming headache. I felt a bit envious as I watched everyone scatter, since I could only wish and dream of joining them.

One problem into another. My head is still pounding from earlier, and now this? This isn’t going to help that—it's basically just dousing a fire with oil! But...

I couldn’t exactly leave Eru all by herself. Glancing her way, I could even make out the subtle and infrequent shivers of her hands that rested on her chest. A strange tingle was sent down my spine as I observed her for those few seconds, but before I could figure what it was, an arrogant voice echoed throughout the now mostly empty inn.

“Filthy. This establishment reeks of improper management. I now see why you people recommend the Resting Timber inn at the north gate for merchants. Humor me, is this not just a drunkard’s habitat—their safe haven—instead? These foul patrons of yours only further convince me that this stands as the truth.”

“...”

An audible mockery—a demoralizing show came from the merchant as Eru stood in silence. His guards grinned in shared agreement toward his spiteful words as his beady eyes drifted toward me. His look of disgust was accompanied by his guards seemingly sizing me up in a similar manner. Their expressions spoke volumes, carrying more weight to the words the merchant hurled prior in an unexpected way.

Do I really look like a drunkard...? In what way?! Actually, what is this weird habit with this place anyways?! From being thought of as an intimidating priest, to now being assumed as a drunkard? I don’t even have a drink in my hands! I’m also quite the lightweight at that!

I was beginning to feel irritated before this situation had barely even started. The haughty attitudes from dumb, dumber and dumbest was one thing—but more importantly—I knew Eru had no other choice besides keeping quiet and polite. Due to her conversation from earlier with her grandfather, I couldn’t see her taking a risk in riling the potential representative of the Caelios family.

Wait, that incident from earlier though...

Eru had given me a very short explanation of what her incidents entailed. From the boiling of her blood and skin, to a sudden mood swing-like outburst of anger. The latter acting as the signaling prelude to the former. With that in mind, it was questionable on whether she actually would give them a piece of her mind after all.

Hm? Actually, I don’t think she ever told me the exact reason why it happened earlier though. Well, either way...

I shifted my attention back to Eru in attempt to keep an eye out and as I did, the man sandwiched between his lackeys then finally introduced himself.

“My name is Wesil Nelpard, a representative merchant of the Caelios family. I’m certain you’ve heard about that family’s glory in great detail already, thus I shall keep this short. Bar girl, where is the old man? The one referred to as Torrel, I demand his presence immediately.”

“...M-my grandfather is currently...busy at the moment. I’m s-sorry, but you’ll have to—”

“Not everyone has the time or patience to simply dawdle in a shabby, poor-excuse for an inn, bar girl! Now—hm? Grandfather? I see, so you’re actually related to that old man? Then you must definitely know his current whereabouts, correct? Either bring him here or bring me to him. I have other matters I must attend to tonight—so be quick about your choice.”

“I...”

It was obvious that Eru couldn’t handle the aggressive approach from Wesil. At least, despite her usual nervousness being shown here, I hadn’t seen anything bearing resemblance to her prior incident. I could vividly remember her biting her lips and seeming frustrated, but currently, it felt as if she were just at a loss on what she should do.

I’d much rather avoid having that happen again too. I didn’t want to really draw any attention, but—

“Oh? So, you really are a noble, huh? Having a last name and all, that’s pretty fancy around these parts, isn’t it?”

Naturally addressing the merchant, I could immediately see his guards now reaching for their weapons at their back and sides. A quick [Investigate] told me all I needed to know about the two of them. A Barbarian named Bodou and a Rogue named Febir, Level 30 and 29, respectively. Both were upper D-tier Adventurers, which caught me a bit by surprise. I’d assume a noble would have been able to afford paying for a higher tier with ease. Though, it’s not like I even knew the cost of hiring one anyways.

Wesil then lifted his hand slightly, as if to quell the hard-working spirits of the two behind him.

“Hold your tongue from speaking so casually with me, countryman. I never extended the permission of interacting with me, did I? How about you follow your fellow filth—those foul patrons—and disappear from my sight? You have no business currently being here.”

Wesil’s scowl in response to simply speaking to him was comical as an audible and short scoff escaped me. As I began walking toward the entrance, in turn, a condescending and swift snort then left his own nose as he assumed he had been given exactly what he wanted.

“Countryman, huh?”

I grabbed a chair from one of the tables closest to the entrance and took a seat. I had every intention on remaining there and removing the pressure away from Eru as I continued.

“I honestly didn’t think my appearance could be synonymous with that label. You’d think I’d at least have a bit more muscle on me like the others, right? Ah. Wait, there’s still Palvo. Am I really in the same category as that guy?!”

“...Are you daft and hard of hearing, you—!”

Lifting my legs onto the table, I slammed them—causing Wesil to flinch in surprise.

“Sorry, but can you please hold on for a second and not interrupt me when I’m speaking? I’m pretty quick to lose my train of thought and all. Anyways, I had a question regarding your noble name and house. What was it again...? Nap—no, Nul...Nulyard...?”

For better or worse, his beady-eyed glare now only had me in its reflection currently.

“Nelpard! It’s Nelpard, you ignorant cur! My house is an affluent one that remains in the good graces of the Triskeles! Even a lowly field worker like yourself should be able to grasp at what that implies.”

“Not in the slightest. Actually, is it really Nelpard though? Nulyard simply sounded far more accurate. Especially the “Nul” part, since the name seems to associate with nothing of importance.”

“Bodou!! Febir!! I’m done involuntarily lending an ear to his insolence! Remove him from my sight immediately! And make sure the house of Nelpard, my name, never leaves that unwashed tongue of his again!”

Nods of affirmation came from the two at his side as they began walking toward me. I could see Wesil’s face become apple red with rage, signaling that it was indeed a simple but effective plan after all. That being said, I didn’t have any intention on fighting his two lackeys. Belittling one or two of these three stooges was one thing, but having a brawl here wouldn’t bode well for me later. I was still very adamant on keeping a low profile overall.

Most importantly, it wasn’t my place to provoke a fallout for Druhwood with only my own impulsive actions. Wesil definitely seemed like the kind of person that would use a dispute like this to forcibly get what he wanted in the end too.

I can at least buy some time and hopefully... Ah. Truly, what headache.

Bodou and Febir were now towering over me as I remained seated. The Barbarian was swift in his aggression as he grabbed the collar of my black shirt—launching me toward him. His breath met my face in a palpable reek that felt as if I were smacked with the spirit of a raw fish.

“It’s a bit stuffy in here, so how about we have a proper and hearty discussion outside, huh, kid?”

Wow! What a thoughtful Barbarian—a well-spoken one at that. A shame he even brought his prior meal into this conversation though.

“O-okay, but just hold on a moment, um, I didn’t catch which name belonged to you, sir...?”

“It’s Bodou.”

“Bozo? All right, hear me out now, is it possible for us just to talk inside—right here—instead? It has been a long day for me, so—”

“Bozo? Who is that? I said my name is Bodou.”

His expression was serious and sincere, with a sprinkling tinge of confusion on what I had called him.

“Ah. Okay, a complete lack of connotation here, is that it? The word doesn’t exactly hold much of an oomph in this world apparently. I see.”

“Huh...?”

From a tad to a full-on embrace, his face had now become one with his internal confusion.

“...Never mind that, could you just release me already? I don’t really know what’s worse; you stretching my shirt or having the unwanted privilege of smelling your words. The combination of the two is killing me even, so please let me choose one or the other.”

“You—!”

With the sudden jingle of a bell, Bodou’s gaze was now redirected behind me. It seemed I had successfully stalled long enough for someone to call upon the owner of the Mirth Oak Inn himself.

“Aye. I’ll have to ask you the same for that lad, guardsman. You new-blood Adventurers are always so rowdy, but ain’t no fighting in my inn—you hear? I sure hope you even have the ability to contain yourself properly when asked.”

Torrel, accompanied by someone who had been in the inn a short while earlier, was now standing near the doorway to the inn. Both were breathing a bit heavily, as if they had practically rushed over. I was then immediately released as I suddenly slumped back into my chair behind me. Bodou’s eyes remained in Torrel’s direction with an accompanied scowl.

Finally! I feel like it was really going to come down to brawl after all. Egging someone on outside of an actual fight feels a bit weird for me too! Embarrassing even! Well, it’s in your hands now, Torrel.

“Old man, I’m appalled by the company you accept—the patrons that you and your shoddy tavern appeal to! To think I—”

“Lord Wesil.”

There was a sudden air of strength and formality to Torrel’s voice, one I hadn’t heard from him until now.

“I remember agreeing to the meeting at the north gate, on the next morning, for our answer. Mind if I inquire about your reason for arriving to our inn this late?”

“That’s because...”

Based on Torrel’s way of speaking now, it was clear to me that he definitely had dealt with his fair share of nobles throughout his years. Wesil then explained his reasoning as Torrel made a visible, full-body sigh as his shoulders rose and sunk with an exhale—reminding me of a method used to calm oneself.

“I apologize, but we have yet to come to an answer as of right now. I ask that you please wait until the appointed time tomorrow, Lord Wesil.”

Torrel’s plea and deep bow was met with the stare of an irritated Wesil, whose voice didn’t lack in matching that mood.

“The utter audacity of you people! To make a busy nobleman like myself waste time here—in these backwoods! But as disinclined as I am toward waiting, it’s evident now that you are one to remain firm, uncompromisingly so. A shame, I had hoped that I would have been able to officiate this deal before heading out tonight. I have business I must attend to elsewhere after all, outside of Druhwood. Nevertheless, we shall regroup in the morning at the north gate then. I expect a favorable reply by then, old man. Bodou! Febir! We are leaving.”

As sudden as he arrived, he disappeared in a similar manner with his two disgruntled lackeys, that were seemingly disappointed they weren’t able to show off a bit. Putting them aside, I turned my attention toward Eru and quickly made my way back to the counter. Before I could get a chance at asking if she was okay, Torrel’s voice came from behind me.

“Young lad, please either return to your room or head out for a few. Eru, if he hasn’t eaten yet, pack him something.”

“O-okay, Grandpa...”

His words forced movement out of the once still Eru as she darted around the kitchen. I had forgotten all about the meal entirely, actually. My hunger had seemingly been abated, replaced instead with a massive headache and wave of exhaustion due to the experience from earlier—including Cruubi’s vision. I was far more ready to sleep again than eat.

“There’s something important I need to discuss with the youngin’. Sorry about all this, and thank you.”

His sudden apology and thanks were rather heartfelt as he also extended a slight bow my way. I assumed that it was for dealing with Wesil while he was gone, but in eying Eru, she had a smile that felt bittersweet as she watched her grandfather’s actions.

I quietly took the wrapped dinner from Eru’s hand as Cruubi sat on the top of the fastened covering. We didn’t exchange any words whatsoever as I then left them on the first floor and headed for my room. It was clear as day as to what the topic between the two would be. The merchant’s deal and the Spirit of Enheim’s request.

“If they agree to the deal, they’ll lose the protection of the treants and the Spirit of Enheim’s favor. If they decline, they’ll most likely have to deal with the house of Caelios and the brute force of the backbone that is the Crethian army’s leadership—and their greed. And here I believed I’d be able to take it nice and easy...”

“Chirp!”

Whichever decision they would arrive at tonight, I couldn’t exactly see myself just walking away from it at all. Especially if either of the scenarios played out for the worse.