鲁丝一区二区三区免费

[PR: Ash]

Two days left until the druid was open for business. Roy went around the fortress and put a random Mayena guard under Axii’s spell (in a quiet corner, of course) and asked him about Mateo and Brofi. These people were instrumental in clearing Geralt’s name.

However, the guard didn’t know much about the case. Ever since Ainz’s demise, the servants had gone missing. Just their luck, the head of security saw them as accomplices, so they could never come back to the city. Right. Guess I should try my luck out at the refugee camp.

***

An old cripple was sitting on his bench before his old canvas tent housed on the hill, smoking with his pipe. The afternoon sun shone upon his dirty clothes, a surge of warmth surging within his limbs. He looked down at the refugee camp, as noisy and infested with people as usual. His eyes were murky, but they had emotions flaring within them.

And then, a friendly voice asked, “Sir, may I ask you a question? I’m looking for a few people.”

The cripple looked at the young witcher and smiled. “Been here since the day this camp was founded.” The old man’s beard twitched as he spoke, and he shook his chibouk around. “Might be old and crippled, but my mind’s as sharp as ever. I know every single person who came in, who left, and who never came back. Know every single thing that’s happened in this place, to be honest.” The old man nodded, and wrinkles formed on his forehead. “But remembering things is a… tiring endeavor. Gotta have something to motivate me, or I can’t do it.” He stared at the witcher with anticipation.

Yeah. Money makes the world go round. This was the fifth refugee Roy asked, and he was the oldest by far. “Of course. Here’s for you. Get a drink for yourself.” Roy handed the old man ten coppers.

Happily, the old man tucked the coins into an empty bottle of booze beside his foot, then he hid it under his chair.

“So, what are their names? And what do they look like?”

“They are Mateo and Brofi. Here are their portraits.” Roy whipped out a couple of portraits. He made it based on what Yurga told him. Without Coral with him, he had to do it himself, but he was not an artist. He couldn’t even draw. The ‘portraits’ were nothing but stick people and unruly lines.

The old man stared at the… interesting artwork, and his brows furrowed. He clicked his tongue, revealing two rows of yellowing teeth. They look like humans, but I’m not sure if they’re humans inside. Well, lucky for him, he made sure he drew out the birthmarks and some prominent parts.

“Brofi. Lean. Six feet tall. Different from the refugees, I see. And he has a mole on his left cheek. Rare.” The old man tapped his chibouk on the table. “Easily recognizable. One week ago…”

Roy listened closely. That was when the red light shone.

The old man smacked his knee and gave Roy another wide-eyed look. “Sorry. I have had nothing to eat since this morning. Well, just a free bread, but black bread isn’t filling. My belly’s rumbling. Bile’s burning up my throat and head. I can’t even move much. Leg’s starting to hurt. I can’t remember what happened.”

“Here you go.” Like magic, the young witcher whipped out a grilled chicken thigh covered in spices.

The old man gulped greedily, and he looked at the grinning witcher. He took the thigh and wolfed it down, much like how a young man would eat. One whole minute later, the old man licked the grease off his fingers and smacked his belly. He let a rush of satisfied air out. The thigh was devoured, bones and all. “I remember now. A week ago, Brofi came to the southern part of the camp and left a few hours later, looking a little panicked. Guess he was going on a long trip.”

Sweat was starting to drench Roy’s palms. So that means Yurga’s servant must be on his way back to Rivia.

“Mateo. Slightly pudgy, has a long face, short beard… Wait, this is Ainz’s servant. I could recognize him anywhere.” The old man had a solemn look on his face, but he didn’t ask why Roy wanted to know about this man.

“Is he famous?”

“Everyone in this camp knows him. He and his master would give out food to us.” A pause later, the old man said, “But I heard Ainz was kidnapped a month ago, and Mateo went into hiding because he’s an accomplice. The city’s hunting him down right now. Haven’t seen him for days.”

Roy looked a little disappointed. If Mateo isn’t around the camp, it’s going to be hard just to find him. Hm, the old man was mocking Ainz. Why? “You don’t seem to like Ainz. Why?” Roy stared into the old man’s eyes. They were filled with disdain. “Thought he gave you guys food.”

“Ah, you’ve never been in the camp before, have you?” The old man stroked his beard. “He didn’t give the food for free. The fortress’ leader compensates him. He sells it at a slightly lower price than the market. Ainz isn’t the only one helping us. Some other merchants are helping us too. And they said we’re eating for free. Bollocks. Still, the food Ainz gave us…” The old man trailed off.

“Something wrong with it?” Roy asked.

“No need to find out so much, lad. I’ve told you what I know about these men. Sorry I can’t help further.” The old man shook his head, telling Roy to leave.

Roy could see that the old man knew more, so he gave the old man one whole crown this time.

The old man bit down on the coin to see if it was real, then he tucked it into his bottle. “Yeah, that’s going to pay for a lot of my luxuries.” He huddled closer to Roy and spoke in a whisper. “The bread Ainz gives us is made of the worst flour. Probably expired flour. That bastard mixed soil and sand into the flour too. Everyone who has the food he gives ends up having a stomach upset, especially old gits like me and the ladies. And the kids.” The old man shook his head, shuddering. “I was this close to Lebioda’s kingdom. But I either eat or I starve. The lads have it better though. They can eat even though the bread’s disgusting.”

Roy rubbed his chin. He was reminded of Yurga’s testimonial. The one where Ainz wanted to strike a foul deal with him, but the righteous merchant refused the deal. The old man’s testimonial backs that up. Ainz was an unscrupulous bastard. “What about the fortress’ leader? Won’t he deal with this? Hasn’t anyone reported this fraud to him?”

Sadness and sorrow filled the old man’s eyes. “Know the kind of people this world detests most? The kind where even if they die, no one would care? Us? Refugees who lost their homes and are looked at like dirt by the powers that be. The act of feeding us alone, no matter how bad the food is, is already kindness in their eyes. They couldn’t care less about the quality of the food. Not like we get to air our grievances either. The only hope we have is for Foltest to rebuild Sodden, then we may go home.”

Roy turned around in silence, staring at the jostling refugees down below. They were pale, gaunt, and almost cadaverous. Hunger besieged them every day. Some were in heated arguments, some were sobbing by themselves, while some sat on the ground like puppets, all light in their eyes lost. The air itself reeked of the rancid air of despair.

“That’s not all Ainz did. He abused his status and power to rape a few of the prettier women in the camp.” The old man spoke with vitriol. “I heard that one of the women got pregnant with his kid, but he wouldn’t even take her into the city. No, called her a whore and accused her of getting knocked up by another man. Sent his people to abuse her until she had a miscarriage. That was unfair to her. No man in the camp would try to lay a finger on Ainz’s women. He would make sure they starved.”

The old man sighed. “The abuse drove that woman to madness. Ran from the camp one day and never came back. People go missing every day. Deaths mean nothing to these people. Except for the druid, no one else would take pity on us.”

The witcher stared at his feet in silence.

“Oh, by the way, this reminds me.” The old man stood up and hobbled around the chair. “Ainz isn’t the only one having affairs with the women; his servant, Mateo, has relations with one of the women too, but the lad’s a lot more careful than his master. And a lot better too. Treats the woman like his wife. He’s going to take her into the city and live with her soon too. I know he’s missing now, but maybe his lover will have news about him.” A moment later, the old man added, “Her name’s Ririn. Came from Birch Village back in Sodden. You’ll find her in the southern part of the camp. Purple tent.”

Alright. Lead reconnected. Roy heaved a sigh of relief. He was a little impressed by the old man. The guy knows everything about this camp. Hm, but Birch Village sounds familiar. “You know a lot.”

“I have a good memory. Before Sodden was taken down, I was the steward for the nephew of King Ekkehard’s military minister. Had to record half a ledger for the entire day’s arrangements and trivial matters.” The old man rubbed his balding head with glee. “I love to observe and listen around. The widows and crones love to gossip, and I give them encouragement when they need it.”

“Here’s to a happy life.” Roy gave the old man two crowns and left.

***

The witcher descended the hill and crossed the narrow path. The scent of onions, potatoes, cabbages, and excrements assailed his nose. On the left side of some tents, a cauldron stood, and within it was a stew made of potatoes. On the tent’s right, a pile of dung stood. The stench was carried by the wind, falling into the stew and piling a layer of… a powerful scent onto it.

Ebony loved the rancid stench. He circled the witcher’s feet, barking quietly as it chased its own tail. Gryphon the Cat followed its master closely, swiping its paws deftly at its new, rambunctious lackey, teaching him a lesson

A few sallow heads poked out of their tents, their eyes filled with greed, staring at the pets of the witcher, licking their lips. They were fortunate their master looked tough, so no one tried to snag them up for a little snack.

***

Five minutes later, Roy came to the southern side of the camp, where colorful tents stood side by side. Scantily-clad women crossed through the spaces between the tents, holding pots and pans, gibbering happily with their friends. The clearing in the center had a cauldron, and a stew of turnips and carrots was cooking within.

Oh, I remember now. It’s the village near Willow Village. The widows’ friends lived there.

For some reason, the blond widow noticed Roy right away, and she came out of her sky-blue tent, holding her baby. “Auckes!” She approached the witcher, smiling sweetly, her braided hair jumping on her shoulder. “What brings you here?”

“I’m looking for Ririn from Birch Village.”

Yugni didn’t even ask why the witcher wanted to look for Ririn. She quickly led him through the scores of ladies in the encampment.

A freckled woman said with jealousy, “When did she hook up with him?”

“Hey, she’s prettier than you, has a bigger chest than you, has a plumper behind than you, has a smaller waist than you, and she has a good son too. Perhaps she’ll be leaving this godforsaken place tomorrow and moving into the city,” a tall, muscular lady said. “Just hope she won’t leave us for dead.”

***

The witcher and Yugni made small talk. A moment later, they came to a purplish-red tent with a rose embroidered on the fabric. The tent looked more lavish than the others. A curvy, beautiful woman was sitting right outside the tent’s entrance. She was in her early twenties, donning a clean orange dress. The woman was beautiful, at least among the refugees.

“Ririn.”

“Oh, Yugni. And this is?” Ririn snapped out of it and looked at her friend and the witcher suspiciously.

“This is Auckes. Told you yesterday. He escorted us all the way here.” Yugni gave the witcher an appreciative look. “We’d have died ten times without him.”

Ririn gave Roy a gentle smile, a look of approval flashing in her eyes. “So what brings you here, Auckes? I don’t do any business, if you catch my drift.”

“Ah, please don’t worry. I came here to clear your lover’s name.” Roy looked into the woman’s eyes and spoke with sincerity. “Mateo, if I’m right.”

“Mateo? Who’s that? What do you mean you’ll clear his name? I don’t understand.” A hint of panic flashed in the woman’s eyes. She crawled backward and huddled against the tent.

“I don’t beat about the bush. You know what happened to his master, Ainz. The head of security has charged Mateo with the crime of being an accomplice. He can’t come home now, and my friend’s imprisoned. We need his testimonial to help us out.” Roy announced, “And I promise I’ll clear his name.”

Ririn turned around and finally said, “You got the wrong person. It’s been two weeks since he came here. I have no idea where he is.”

Yugni went ahead and held her friend’s arm. “Auckes has protected us on our journey. He never tried to harass us, and he’s a man of his word. You can trust him. You can trust me. I’ve never lied to you.”

Ririn looked at them for a moment, then she hung her head low and bit her lip, falling into a dilemma.

Roy held Ebony in his arms and rubbed its belly. “Mateo is in a dangerous situation. Keep this up and the head of security will sentence him to punishment. And he can never come back to you. Will you let that happen? After all you’ve gone through with him? If he’s sentenced to punishment, you will no longer have anyone to rely on, and you know what happens to women like you in this encampment if they have no one backing them up.” The witcher said no more than that.

“Enough! I know where he is. I’ll talk!” Ririn shivered and looked at the witcher with tearful eyes, her lips trembling. “But can you promise he will be safe?”

“I’ll try my best to clear his name and keep him alive.” Roy took his sunglasses off, revealing his heterochromatic eyes. “On my name as a witcher.”

***

Five minutes later, Roy said goodbye to Yugni, who was reluctant to see him go, then he went with Ririn, leaving the encampment. They journeyed west, heading into a shrub-filled wilderness. About an hour later, they met Mateo in a wooden house tucked between the woods, covered in moss and vines.

He had a long face, short beard, and his sweater was covered in grime and pieces of plants. His pants were grey and made out of cotton and hemp. Obviously he was living well before tragedy struck. Only a week had gone by, and he had lost so much weight he turned gaunt. His cheekbones were prominent, and his face was sickly red, his eyes bloodshot.

When he saw his lover coming in, he eased up and forced a smile. Just when he was about to greet her, the witcher came in, and he tensed up again. “Who is he? Did you betray me, Ririn? And to think I gave everything I had to you.” Mateo was breathing laboriously, pointing at the two of them in fury, and then his face turned ashen.

Roy made a sign, and Mateo calmed down, his breathing slowed. He leaned on the wall, looking at the witcher cautiously.

“Calm down.” Roy looked at Ririn, who was eyeing him suspiciously. “Just made him snap to his senses. Mateo, I’ll cut to the chase. Yurga asked me to clear his name. You know he never kidnapped your master, Ainz. The culprit was that red light, and you saw it yourself, didn’t you?”

The mention of that red light horrified Mateo. Terror flared in his eyes, and his face turned redder as he shivered uncontrollably. It looked as if a nightmare had grasped him. “The light… The light…”

Fortunately, Axii’s effect was still in place, so he didn’t lose all control.

“Auckes, every time we bring this up, he starts breaking down. You have to help him,” Ririn pleaded.

Roy cast Observe on Mateo and checked on him, but to his surprise, Mateo showed no symptoms other than increased body temperature. Odd. When Yurga told me about the incident, he brought up the light a lot of times, but nothing happened to him. So why’d Mateo fall into a panic attack? And why did his master get burnt into a crisp? What’s the difference between these people? Is this nothing but a psychological phenomenon, or is there something more to it?

Five minutes later, Mateo calmed down and took a deep breath. “You’re right. Yurga and the white-haired guy are innocent, but the pain… Every time I think about the light, my whole body burns up. It’s like a fire is consuming my head. I can’t help him.”

“The fire’s in your head?”

Mateo gulped, and Ririn went ahead to hold his hands. “Don’t worry, my love. We’re all here. I’m here.”

“I…” The man spoke with a trembling voice as he slowly recalled that event. “The red light… When we first entered the woods, things were normal, but three minutes later, something started feeling off for me. All my painful memories started bubbling in my head, and I couldn’t stop them from taking over.”

“What do you mean painful memories? Any details?” Roy tried to speak as calmly as possible to not agitate Mateo.

A drop of sweat fell down his cheek. “As Ainz’s accomplice, I’ve dealt with the more… unsavory side of business. Hurting innocents and rivals, selling expired food, buying more expired food from partners… The red light took me back to those days, playing the memories in my head over and over and over again. It was torture, and I couldn’t take it anymore.” Mateo’s voice was getting a bit sharp, and fear trickled into his heart. “Then the light started to burn. Hotter and hotter it burned, until it felt like I would combust from within.”

Agitated, he shouted, “It wants to burn me down! It wants to burn a sinner! Do you know what I think this is? That this light is punishment from Melitele and Eternal Fire. The light punishes those who carry sin on their shoulders. The light will burn through the darkness of the world, punishing us for our sins. Ainz… Ainz’s sins were many. Too many to count. Too terrible to speak of, and that was why the light burned him to ash.”

Realization struck Roy, and he thought he had a clue about the light, but he wasn’t sure if his guess was correct. He did not see the light and its power for himself, after all. Observe showed that Mateo was perfectly fine. Aside from a slight fever, that is.

“The light is gone now, but every time I’m reminded of my past sins…” Mateo held his head and sobbed. “I burn up. The fire won’t leave me. It’s stuck to my soul. Even now I can feel it hiding inside me, watching me. Every time the memories of my sins start to boil, the fire slithers out from its hiding place just to burn me. Nothing but pain is left for me. I’m sure they’ll keep burning until I turn into a pile of ash.”

***

“Do you regret your actions, then?” Now that he knew what he wanted to know, Roy spoke of his true goal. “Do you wish to atone for your sins? Once I’m ready, you’re coming with me to see the head of security and testify for Geralt and Yurga. You will testify against Ainz, recounting all his crimes. If there’s any way for you to regain your freedom from the pain you’re feeling, it’s this. You must face your past and rectify it.”

Mateo’s chest heaved, and his breathing labored, but he hesitated. A moment later, his face contorted, and he gritted his teeth. With conviction, he said, “I’ll do it!”

“No!” Ririn said, “You committed crimes in your past too. You might get dragged into this. What if you get captured? What will happen to me?”

Mateo hesitated once more. He couldn’t just let go of this relationship.

“Talk to me, mate.” Roy looked at Mateo. Gently, he said, “What kind of crimes have you committed.”

“No!” Ririn hid Mateo behind her like she was a hen protecting her chick. “Don’t torture him any further! Didn’t you see how much pain he was in?”

“I’ll do it.” Mateo pulled Ririn behind him, his eyes flaring with flames. “If this moment of pain gives me peace and relief, I’ll do it.”

***