A small campfire burned bright red. On top of that, a dirty pot was placed carelessly, with an unidentifiable soup or stew bubbling within. A spoon as dirty as the pot whirled around the unidentified food.
“This should be ready to eat.”
A sharp voice.
The person stirring with a spoon was Beryn who had left the bar towards the west. Putting that yellow brownish soup into her mouth, she made a content expression. It was a satisfying flavour, but only to herself.
It was when she was about to scoop another serve of soup.
The grass divided into two and a soft innocent young man appeared. Beryn instinctively raised the bow sitting next to her.
Within the blink of an eye, an arrow was nocked into the bow as the bow swerved dangerously.
“Uh, uh, uh! Ple, please wait!”
The young man that had suddenly appeared lay down on the ground while waving his hands.
“Uh? You are…”
Only then did Beryn lower her bow but her expression did not ease.
“That wandering merchant from the bar?”
“Yes you’re right. I’m the wandering merchant Roel.”
The person bowing on the ground with only his head tilting up was Roan. Placing the luggage to the side, he calmed himself down.
“I thought I was dying by an arrow at a foreign place.”
Roan overreacted but with the bow in her hands, the doubt in her gaze showed no signs of going away.
“What are you doing here? Or rather, how did you find this place?”
Her voice was sharp, evident of her alert.
‘Only the hunters know of this hut…’
It was built at an extremely secretive place to hide from monsters so it was not easy to be found coincidentally. Approaching slowly with his knees on the ground, he shrugged his shoulders.
“I was lost on the way before following the trail of fire.”
“Lost on the way?”
Beryn’s face turned stiff.
“That’s already suspicious. Why is a wandering merchant searching through the Grain Mountain Range?”
It was a fairly sharp question but instead of answering, Roan smiled brightly and stared at the pot boiling the yellowish soup.
“Aigo. Just when I was hungry…”
He nonchalantly placed a spoon inside the pot and immediately could hear her voice.
Even a sliver of killing intent was embedded into the voice but Roan did not care and made a big scoop with the spoon.
“Let’s talk after filling the stomach.”
He then quickly placed it inside his mouth. In that instant, an extremely yucky smell of game pierced his mouth, nose, heart, lungs, liver, stomach and mana hall.
If not for his patience that had been built through countless years of war and training, he would’ve thrown up. Slowly placing the spoon back down, he stared at Beryn with an awkward smile hanging on his lips.
“But that won’t be good manners I guess.”
Gathering his hands together he slightly lowered his head.
“Let’s talk first.”
His lips trembled slightly.
‘That soup, no, that poison is inedible.’
A cold chill ran down his spine, but as if on purpose, Beryn scooped a big spoonful and carried it over to her mouth.
Just the mere sight was enough to make him want to vomit. On the other hand, Beryn nonchalantly drank the soup like a person with no sense of taste, nor smell. Wiping her mouth that had a trace of the yellowish soup with the back of her hand, she gestured with a nod.
“Speak. Why were you lost in the Grain Mountain Range?”
Right when he was about to open his mouth, Roan closed it. With his eyes quickly glancing left and right, he shook his head with an awkward smile.
“It seems that we need to delay the talk a little.”
Beryn tapped the pot with her spoon in reply.
“Why? Do you want to eat my special sou…”
“No! That is not correct!”
Roan replied like he was in a seizure and stood up from his seat. Looking around the hut, he answered in a whisper.
“It seems that there are visitors other than myself.”
In the middle of asking back with a frown, she instinctively pulled her bowstring back.
‘W, what’s this?’
Her skin felt prickly.
And a gulp went down unconsciously.
On the other hand, Roan scanned the surroundings with a calm expression. His eyes and face turned towards the west and,
The grass was divided, with uninvited guests showing up. Staring at them, Roan made a slight smile.
That was the first feeling he received.
<The Dark Elves (2)> End.