When he was but a few steps away from the hand, the bear lunged at him with a loud growl, scaring George out of his wits.
A clinging sound rang out as the bear's chains were stretched to the limit, and the firm pole where they were held creaked.
Fortunately, it proved to be the thing he needed the most at that moment because he was finally certain where its limits were. Thus, his steps increased in speed, and just as he was only three steps from the hand, he heard a voice behind him. "You! Boy, what are you doing?"
He immediately turned around and saw Henry in front of the door he had just jumped from, followed by a tall middle-aged man with a honeyed mustache.
George's eyes widened in shock, and he quickly took two steps forward, pushed the hands with a kick, and retreated climbing back the door once again.
Amidst the loud noise of the beasts, a man was yelling for Henry who was walking away toward William to stop. Due to his short stature, the man didn't even notice George at first, but when he landed after he jumped from the door, he turned to look at him, yelling, "What are you boys doing here?"
He then approached George and kept looking at the beasts who were making a lot of noise, and he soon noticed the bones and the blood, "what did you give the beasts?" He asked as he held George by the collar of his shirt. Afraid that they were trying to give the beasts some trash, or worse, poison.
"Let go, old man." Muttered the short teen after he forcefully pushed the man's hands away.
"Fucking, brat, you dare?" Shouted the man in agitation, "I won't let go unless I know what you gave them."
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, George furrowed his brows as he coldly answered, "It's just some pig skewers, calm down, will you?"
"Do you think I was born yesterday?" The man scoffed, clearly unwilling to accept that excuse, "If that was the case, then your friend wouldn't have run away, and you wouldn't be so secretive..." And then clutched George's collars tightly once again.
"Fuck off," George yelled once again as he stared daggers into the man's eyes.
"I said," The man snarled, "What did you give them," And slapped George with his huge thick palms.
George's face was pushed the the side, a jolt of pain coursing through his cheeks as a red mark was left. Just as he was about to say something else, the man cut him off, "If you don't say anything, I will call the guards and have them investigate that."
Before the man could even his words, he felt a strong force hitting him behind his head, and he weakly fell to the ground, face first.
When the man fell, George was able to see the one responsible for the attack, and it was none other than Melvin who hit the man's head with the brown handle of his dagger.
Witnessing this sight, he deeply sighed in relief, but his friend's eyes and face which were previously serious, soon morphed into ones of shock, and when he saw that a bad feeling rose in his heart.
What Melvin was looking at was something that he had seen plenty of times that day.
[You have killed a Human Classless(Initiate: Rank 1). You have received 200 XP]
'How?!' He questioned in his mind, unwilling to accept the fact before him. Admittedly he was a bit tense because of the beasts' noise and the man who was getting a bit too close to find out about what they did, but he still used only a bit of force.
He had already envisioned this exact scenario happening in his mind and paid extra caution to avoid it, but in the end, it still happened.
"Dead," He muttered looking at George who was impatiently waiting for an answer as to why he seemed to be out of it.
Hearing that, George's eyes widened, and before he could even think about what they should do next Melvin continued, "Let's just leave everything and run."
In fact, Melvin didn't even know what they should do, but he knew one thing, the situation was gradually becoming extremely complicated.
On one hand, there were the city guards who kept a tight handle on the city's security who would be looking for them with even more fervor after they learned of what they had done, and on the other, there was the Ghoul who would probably skin any of them alive if he were to catch them.
He knew that there was no such a thing as only him, this group of boys was a close unit from the Ghoul's perspective because that was how they portrayed themselves, a small gang.
George immediately nodded, "We can't take this man out of here, but..." As he was about to say something he trailed off.
Melvin didn't bother questioning, if there was something necessary he knew that George would let him know.
They swiftly called Henry back and emptied the remaining contents of the bag in the stable, as for the new dead body, they just left it there.
The group then converged as they walked out of the stables, under the stable guard's curious gaze, who Melvin assured that he would just go pee and return.
"I'll come back, Elder!" He shouted from afar, and they soon entered the shack once again.
When the group entered the shack once again with the two young boys waiting outside, they glanced at each other, unaware of how to proceed.
Melvin looked at the two, then at the pile of bloody body parts still in the middle, and then asked, "So, should we just leave this in here?"
He didn't have many issues doing that, but the others were clearly going through a lot of emotions unlike him. They had lived most of their lives in this shack, and they knew all of the neighboring people, so for them to become known as murderers who cut body parts made them feel a lot of complicated emotions.
George gritted his teeth and began collecting some clothes as he explained, "The stables' guard will have found the body by now, and he will immediately call the guards. But more than that, he has a class because he is a veteran soldier, if he comes back we will be done for."
Hearing that Melvin didn't find it too surprising, he could more or less discern that fact from how much the guy praised the military and was a patriot. He then walked towards his bag and collected all of his stuff as well.
Taking his dagger, he scrapped the remaining soot on that piece of metal and threw it in the bottle. Using a random cork he found in the shack, he closed the battle and put it in his bag. Glancing at the thin piece of metal, he put it in the bag as well. He was even contemplating taking the bricks but he changed his mind.
After a short while, they grabbed everything they needed in their own particular bags and walked out of the shack.
the small roads winding between the shacks were also filled with people who were busy grilling meat once again first thing in the morning, as they passed by them several of them made conversation with the boys, but Melvin just hid his face in his black hood and continued marching.
Following the path that he was already used to, the group following Melvin made their way towards the shop where he previously bought the quill and parchments.
He had noticed that whenever he wrote anything with his specially made ink, his quill would become more fragile as time went on as if the feather and the ore were both losing their vitality in the process.
Glancing at the familiar old man, who like him, was still wearing the same clothes, he warmly greeted him before he asked, "Elder, how can I improve my writing with the quill? It feels too difficult like it's resisting me or something."
The old man pondered before he asked, "What is your dominant hand?"
Confused, Melvin replied, "My right hand."
The old man grabbed the same book that he had given him before, and then he opened to a random page that had a quill and pointed at a particular part, "See this that says, second feather of the right-wing?"
Nodding Melvin gestured for the man to continue, and he did, "In each wing, a quill can be created using only the first five flight feathers. And because the feathers have a natural curve, you need to use feathers from the left wing if you are right-handed."
Melvin's eyes widened in realization, 'No wonder that quill felt so difficult in my hand.' Thanking the old man, he took over the book and began to look through the left-wing feather quills, and he soon found one that cost 12 silver coins and bought it.
The feather of the bird was light brown and gradually turning white at the bottom, and the tip edge was also made of silver and was filled with small feathery engravings.
The group went left, on the same intersection where the shop was at the corner. Melvin heard that the southwestern part of the city had a lot of inns, and they were relatively cheaper than those in the north.
They continued walking through the main streets separating the different districts, and after a while, George guided them through some narrow alleyways before they found themselves in a vast clearing that didn't have any buildings close to the western gate.
What stood before them was a park with perfectly positioned big trees, shrubberies, wooden benches, and so on... Melvin saw several people sitting on some of the benches, from mothers and their children to young couples.
Along the way the group had also stopped for half an hour in a small restaurant where they ate their breakfast, Melvin also bought some lemon biscuits for the two young boys as he was still feeling a bit guilty about what happened in the morning.
Emerging from the narrow alleyway opposite the park, the group turned left and after passing by a single building they reached their destination. Before them stood a two-storied stone building with a sign that reads, "The Whispering Willow Inn".
This inn wasn't only quite a distance away from where the shack was, but the price wasn't that expensive either.
"Are you sure it's 5 silver coins?" Melvin whispered to George on his right.
"Yes, we had a friend that used to work here," George replied. They took one last glance at one another and entered.
The insides were mostly made in a dark shade of wood. The inn also seemed to prepare meals as the first story was filled with tables and a counter at the end of the room that had a small passageway leading to a kitchen Melvin guessed.
To the the left were wide stairs leading up to the first story, and from what he had learned that's where most rooms were.
The group of boys quietly made their way along the tables filled with people who were just having their breakfast, and they stood in front of the middle-aged slightly overweight woman who was manning the reception.
Melvin stepped forward with a smile asking, "Hello, are there any rooms available?"
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When he was but a few steps away from the hand, the bear lunged at him with a loud growl, scaring George out of his wits.
A clinging sound rang out as the bear's chains were stretched to the limit, and the firm pole where they were held creaked.
Fortunately, it proved to be the thing he needed the most at that moment because he was finally certain where its limits were. Thus, his steps increased in speed, and just as he was only three steps from the hand, he heard a voice behind him. "You! Boy, what are you doing?"
He immediately turned around and saw Henry in front of the door he had just jumped from, followed by a tall middle-aged man with a honeyed mustache.
George's eyes widened in shock, and he quickly took two steps forward, pushed the hands with a kick, and retreated climbing back the door once again.
Amidst the loud noise of the beasts, a man was yelling for Henry who was walking away toward William to stop. Due to his short stature, the man didn't even notice George at first, but when he landed after he jumped from the door, he turned to look at him, yelling, "What are you boys doing here?"
He then approached George and kept looking at the beasts who were making a lot of noise, and he soon noticed the bones and the blood, "what did you give the beasts?" He asked as he held George by the collar of his shirt. Afraid that they were trying to give the beasts some trash, or worse, poison.
"Let go, old man." Muttered the short teen after he forcefully pushed the man's hands away.
"Fucking, brat, you dare?" Shouted the man in agitation, "I won't let go unless I know what you gave them."
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, George furrowed his brows as he coldly answered, "It's just some pig skewers, calm down, will you?"
"Do you think I was born yesterday?" The man scoffed, clearly unwilling to accept that excuse, "If that was the case, then your friend wouldn't have run away, and you wouldn't be so secretive..." And then clutched George's collars tightly once again.
"Fuck off," George yelled once again as he stared daggers into the man's eyes.
"I said," The man snarled, "What did you give them," And slapped George with his huge thick palms.
George's face was pushed the the side, a jolt of pain coursing through his cheeks as a red mark was left. Just as he was about to say something else, the man cut him off, "If you don't say anything, I will call the guards and have them investigate that."
Before the man could even his words, he felt a strong force hitting him behind his head, and he weakly fell to the ground, face first.
When the man fell, George was able to see the one responsible for the attack, and it was none other than Melvin who hit the man's head with the brown handle of his dagger.
Witnessing this sight, he deeply sighed in relief, but his friend's eyes and face which were previously serious, soon morphed into ones of shock, and when he saw that a bad feeling rose in his heart.
What Melvin was looking at was something that he had seen plenty of times that day.
[You have killed a Human Classless(Initiate: Rank 1). You have received 200 XP]
'How?!' He questioned in his mind, unwilling to accept the fact before him. Admittedly he was a bit tense because of the beasts' noise and the man who was getting a bit too close to find out about what they did, but he still used only a bit of force.
He had already envisioned this exact scenario happening in his mind and paid extra caution to avoid it, but in the end, it still happened.
"Dead," He muttered looking at George who was impatiently waiting for an answer as to why he seemed to be out of it.
Hearing that, George's eyes widened, and before he could even think about what they should do next Melvin continued, "Let's just leave everything and run."
In fact, Melvin didn't even know what they should do, but he knew one thing, the situation was gradually becoming extremely complicated.
On one hand, there were the city guards who kept a tight handle on the city's security who would be looking for them with even more fervor after they learned of what they had done, and on the other, there was the Ghoul who would probably skin any of them alive if he were to catch them.
He knew that there was no such a thing as only him, this group of boys was a close unit from the Ghoul's perspective because that was how they portrayed themselves, a small gang.
George immediately nodded, "We can't take this man out of here, but..." As he was about to say something he trailed off.
Melvin didn't bother questioning, if there was something necessary he knew that George would let him know.
They swiftly called Henry back and emptied the remaining contents of the bag in the stable, as for the new dead body, they just left it there.
The group then converged as they walked out of the stables, under the stable guard's curious gaze, who Melvin assured that he would just go pee and return.
"I'll come back, Elder!" He shouted from afar, and they soon entered the shack once again.
When the group entered the shack once again with the two young boys waiting outside, they glanced at each other, unaware of how to proceed.
Melvin looked at the two, then at the pile of bloody body parts still in the middle, and then asked, "So, should we just leave this in here?"
He didn't have many issues doing that, but the others were clearly going through a lot of emotions unlike him. They had lived most of their lives in this shack, and they knew all of the neighboring people, so for them to become known as murderers who cut body parts made them feel a lot of complicated emotions.
George gritted his teeth and began collecting some clothes as he explained, "The stables' guard will have found the body by now, and he will immediately call the guards. But more than that, he has a class because he is a veteran soldier, if he comes back we will be done for."
Hearing that Melvin didn't find it too surprising, he could more or less discern that fact from how much the guy praised the military and was a patriot. He then walked towards his bag and collected all of his stuff as well.
Taking his dagger, he scrapped the remaining soot on that piece of metal and threw it in the bottle. Using a random cork he found in the shack, he closed the battle and put it in his bag. Glancing at the thin piece of metal, he put it in the bag as well. He was even contemplating taking the bricks but he changed his mind.
After a short while, they grabbed everything they needed in their own particular bags and walked out of the shack.
the small roads winding between the shacks were also filled with people who were busy grilling meat once again first thing in the morning, as they passed by them several of them made conversation with the boys, but Melvin just hid his face in his black hood and continued marching.
Following the path that he was already used to, the group following Melvin made their way towards the shop where he previously bought the quill and parchments.
He had noticed that whenever he wrote anything with his specially made ink, his quill would become more fragile as time went on as if the feather and the ore were both losing their vitality in the process.
Glancing at the familiar old man, who like him, was still wearing the same clothes, he warmly greeted him before he asked, "Elder, how can I improve my writing with the quill? It feels too difficult like it's resisting me or something."
The old man pondered before he asked, "What is your dominant hand?"
Confused, Melvin replied, "My right hand."
The old man grabbed the same book that he had given him before, and then he opened to a random page that had a quill and pointed at a particular part, "See this that says, second feather of the right-wing?"
Nodding Melvin gestured for the man to continue, and he did, "In each wing, a quill can be created using only the first five flight feathers. And because the feathers have a natural curve, you need to use feathers from the left wing if you are right-handed."
Melvin's eyes widened in realization, 'No wonder that quill felt so difficult in my hand.' Thanking the old man, he took over the book and began to look through the left-wing feather quills, and he soon found one that cost 12 silver coins and bought it.
The feather of the bird was light brown and gradually turning white at the bottom, and the tip edge was also made of silver and was filled with small feathery engravings.
The group went left, on the same intersection where the shop was at the corner. Melvin heard that the southwestern part of the city had a lot of inns, and they were relatively cheaper than those in the north.
They continued walking through the main streets separating the different districts, and after a while, George guided them through some narrow alleyways before they found themselves in a vast clearing that didn't have any buildings close to the western gate.
What stood before them was a park with perfectly positioned big trees, shrubberies, wooden benches, and so on... Melvin saw several people sitting on some of the benches, from mothers and their children to young couples.
Along the way the group had also stopped for half an hour in a small restaurant where they ate their breakfast, Melvin also bought some lemon biscuits for the two young boys as he was still feeling a bit guilty about what happened in the morning.
Emerging from the narrow alleyway opposite the park, the group turned left and after passing by a single building they reached their destination. Before them stood a two-storied stone building with a sign that reads, "The Whispering Willow Inn".
This inn wasn't only quite a distance away from where the shack was, but the price wasn't that expensive either.
"Are you sure it's 5 silver coins?" Melvin whispered to George on his right.
"Yes, we had a friend that used to work here," George replied. They took one last glance at one another and entered.
The insides were mostly made in a dark shade of wood. The inn also seemed to prepare meals as the first story was filled with tables and a counter at the end of the room that had a small passageway leading to a kitchen Melvin guessed.
To the the left were wide stairs leading up to the first story, and from what he had learned that's where most rooms were.
The group of boys quietly made their way along the tables filled with people who were just having their breakfast, and they stood in front of the middle-aged slightly overweight woman who was manning the reception.
Melvin stepped forward with a smile asking, "Hello, are there any rooms available?"
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