8. Brave New World, Part 3.

The village gate came into view not long after Ars stepped onto the open road.

A wooden wall surrounded the settlement. It wasn’t very tall, but it was sturdy enough to stop monsters and small groups of raiders. Two guards stood beside the entrance, spears in hand.

The moment they noticed Ars approaching, both of them stiffened.

Their eyes immediately moved to the two men tied beside him.

“Stop right there!” one of the guards shouted.

Both spears lifted, pointed directly at Ars.

“Who are you?! What do you want here?!” the other demanded sharply.

The village behind them still carried a tense atmosphere. Several villagers could be seen glancing toward the gate, their faces uneasy. The panic from the bandit raid the day before had clearly not faded.

Ars raised both hands slowly.

“I’m a traveler from the far east,” he said calmly. “These two attacked me on the road. I captured them.”

The guards narrowed their eyes.

“You expect us to believe that?” one of them muttered.

Ars nudged the two bound men forward slightly.

“They tried to kill me,” he continued. “I was on my way to Orario, but I need to rest and stock up on supplies first.”

The two guards exchanged a look.

Then one of them spoke again.

“Show us your ID.”

Ars blinked once.

“ID?”

“Something that proves who you are.”

‘I know what ID is,’ Ars thought.

Ars reached toward his backpack and began rummaging through it.

He checked one pouch.

Then another.

Then the side pocket.

After a moment, he sighed.

“…I think I lost it.”

That was the best lie he could come up with.

Both guards stared at him flatly, as if he were making fun of them.

“You lost it?” one of them repeated flatly.

“Probably in the forest,” Ars said, scratching his head. “Or during the fight with these two.”

“That’s convenient,” the other guard said.

Neither of them lowered their spears.

“We were attacked by bandits the other day. So after what happened,” the first guard continued, “we’re not letting anyone inside without proper verification.”

Ars frowned slightly.

“I understand that,” he said. “But I’ve been walking through that jungle for hours. I just need a place to rest.”

The guards hesitated.

Finally, one of them sighed.

“Stay here.”

He turned and jogged back toward the village.

A few minutes passed.

Then an old man appeared, walking toward the gate with the guard beside him.

He looked to be the village chief.

His hair was grey, his back slightly bent with age, but his eyes were sharp.

The moment he saw the two men tied beside Ars, his expression changed.

His face twisted with rage.

“You bastards!”

Before anyone could react, the old man rushed forward and began striking the two captured bandits with his cane.

“You filthy thieves! You dare come back here after what you did?!”

The two bandits flinched and tried to shield themselves, but with their hands bound, the best they could do was stumble backward in panic. Even then, they simply fell over, tangled together by the rope.

“I should kill you right here!” the chief shouted, striking one of them across the shoulder.

The guards hurried forward.

“Chief! Calm down!”

After a few more blows, the old man finally stopped, breathing heavily.

He turned toward Ars.

“You captured these two?” he asked.

Ars nodded.

“They attacked me on the road.”

The chief looked at the bandits again, fury still lingering in his eyes.

“These are definitely the same ones,” he muttered.

Then he looked back at Ars.

“…Thank you.”

He straightened slightly.

“You may enter the village,” the chief said.

The guards looked surprised.

“But chief—”

“I know what I’m doing,” the old man said.

He turned to Ars again.

“If you hand these two over to us, I’ll have a new ID issued for you from the village. No charge.”

Ars considered it for a moment.

Then he nodded.

“That works.”

The guards took the bandits away immediately.

Once they were gone, the chief studied Ars more closely.

“Are you part of any Familia?” he asked.

Ars shook his head.

“No.”

“I’m planning to go to Orario,” he said. “I’ll think about that after I get there.”

The chief nodded slowly.

“With your build, you might get accepted into a decent Familia,” he said.

Ars smiled faintly.

“Maybe.”

After a moment, Ars glanced around the village.

The atmosphere was still heavy.

Several houses showed signs of damage. Many were burnt.

“What happened here?” he asked. “Did the bandits do this?”

The chief sighed.

“Yeah.”

“Two days ago,” he said bitterly. “They attacked the village.”

Ars frowned.

“Normally they wouldn’t dare,” the chief continued. “But the Familia living here is away on a mission.”

“They won’t return until tomorrow.”

The old man shook his head.

“The bandits took advantage of that.”

As they spoke, Ars pulled a small pouch from his bag.

Inside were the items he had collected earlier.

He showed them to the chief.

“Do you know where I could sell these?”

Fourteen small magic stones, seven goblin fangs, and two claw-like nails.

The chief examined them briefly.

“A merchant arrived this morning,” he said. “After the raid, the village needed supplies.”

He pointed toward the center of the settlement.

“You’ll find him there.”

Ars nodded.

“Thanks.”

A short walk later, he spotted the merchant.

Several wagons stood in the village square. Assistants moved back and forth unloading crates while villagers gathered around to buy goods.

The merchant himself stood nearby, giving instructions.

“Careful with that crate!” he shouted. “Those jars are fragile!”

Ars approached.

“Excuse me.”

The merchant turned.

“What do you need?”

“I’d like to sell these.”

Ars placed the items on a small table.

The merchant looked them over carefully.

“Goblin magic stones,” he muttered. “These are from surface goblins, I see.”

He picked one up and inspected it.

“They’re small,” he said. “Dungeon goblins usually have larger ones.”

He glanced up.

“I can give you ninety valis for each stone.”

He pointed at the fangs.

“Sixty valis each.”

Then the claws.

“Eighty for those.”

Ars listened quietly.

Valis.

So that must be the currency of this world.

He had already asked the village chief roughly how much such items were worth.

The price Dalton was offering matched almost exactly.

So Ars simply nodded.

“Deal.”

The merchant counted the items quickly.

“Fourteen stones…”

He scribbled some numbers.

“Seven fangs… two claws…”

Then he handed over the coins.

“1,840 valis total.”

Ars pocketed the money without bargaining.

Right now, all he wanted was rest.

He had been walking through the jungle for nearly eleven hours straight.

Soon after, he found a small inn.

“One room,” Ars said.

The innkeeper looked up from the counter.

“One hundred forty valis. Dinner included,” the man said.

Ars placed the coins on the table.

“That works.”

The room was very small but clean.

Before going upstairs, Ars washed himself at a public well beside the inn.

There was no bathhouse in sight, so he simply poured bucket after bucket of cold water over his head and body.

It was crude, but it worked.

Afterward, he changed into the cheap local clothes he had bought earlier.

A plain shirt and trousers.

Three hundred sixty valis.

Not great quality, but good enough for now.

But now he looked exactly like one of the villagers.

Finally, he returned to his room.

The moment his head touched the pillow, his body shut down.

He slept like a log.

But barely an hour and a half later—

Knock.

Knock knock.

Someone was knocking on his door.

Ars groaned softly as the knocking continued.

Knock. Knock knock.

He pushed himself off the bed and walked toward the door, still half-asleep.

When he opened it, one of the village guards stood outside.

It was the same guard he had spoken with at the gate earlier.

“You were Nolan, right?” Ars asked, rubbing his eyes.

The guard nodded.

“Yeah.”

They had exchanged names earlier after the chief arrived at the gate.

“What do you want?” Ars asked.

Nolan crossed his arms.

“The chief is calling for you.”

Ars frowned.

“Why?”

Nolan shrugged.

“You’ll know when you get there.”

Ars sighed quietly but followed him.

They walked through the village until they reached a large building in the center.

It was easily the biggest structure Ars had seen in the village.

A wooden sign hung above the entrance.

On it was the picture of a black humanoid figure sleeping, with thick white eyebrows drawn above closed eyes.

Some words were written beneath it, but Ars couldn’t read the language yet.

So this must be the Familia house, he thought.

He had heard earlier that a Familia was stationed in this village.

But why call him here?

Nolan opened the door.

Both of them stepped inside.

Ars immediately noticed the crowd.

There were quite a lot of people gathered inside—around twenty-six from what he could tell.

Some were guards.

Others looked like mercenaries.

A few were villagers.

But what caught Ars’s attention immediately was the man sitting at the head of the long table.

Or rather—

Sleeping.

The man had his head resting on the table, completely passed out.

Everyone else sat along the sides of the table while the main seat remained occupied by the sleeping figure.

Ars noticed the village chief sitting beside him.

Dalton the merchant was seated next to the chief as well.

Ars didn’t need anyone to explain who the sleeping man was.

Even he could tell.

A strange feeling filled the room.

It wasn’t pressure.

It wasn’t fear.

But something about the man felt… different.

Divine.

Ars was certain of it.

He had never met a god before, but Leah carried a somewhat similar aura.

Not exactly the same.

But close enough that he could recognize the feeling.

The bandits hadn’t been lying.

They had said that gods could be recognized even in a crowd with just a glance.

After all, they were that kind of existence.

Ars suddenly remembered another important thing he had learned during the interrogation.

Gods could see through lies.

Mortals couldn’t lie to them.

The thought made his stomach tighten.

Just then, the chief noticed him.

“Come in,” the old man said.

Ars stepped forward.

“Sit.”

Ars took a seat along the table.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

The chief looked around the room.

“We questioned the two bandits you captured,” he said.

“They told us something important.”

Everyone leaned forward slightly.

“They plan to sell the women they kidnapped today.”

The room fell silent.

“If we don’t move quickly,” the chief continued, “we won’t get them back.”

Someone spoke up.

“But the Hypnos Familia is still away.”

“That’s the problem,” the chief replied.

“They won’t return until tomorrow.”

“So we can’t wait.”

He looked around the room again.

“That’s why I’ve gathered everyone here.”

He lowered his head slightly.

“I’m asking for your help to rescue the captured villagers.”

“And of course, the village will compensate you.”

One of Dalton’s caravan guards raised a hand.

“Compensate?” the man asked skeptically.

“You were raided the other day.”

“Do you even have the money?”

The chief nodded.

“The bandits didn’t have time to take everything.”

“They came mainly to kidnap people.”

“They were in a hurry.”

“Most of the village funds are still intact.”

Ars raised his hand slightly.

“There’s something I want to ask.”

The chief looked at him.

“What makes you confident this time will be different?”

Ars continued calmly.

“I saw the village earlier.”

“A lot of people are injured.”

“Some are dead.”

“You couldn’t stop the bandits before.”

“So why would this time be any different?”

The chief didn’t get angry.

Instead, he nodded slowly.

“Because the situation is different.”

“The attack that day happened suddenly.”

“In the middle of the night.”

“There were around sixty bandits.”

“They only came to abduct people and leave.”

“But this time…”

He tapped the table.

“We know where they’re going.”

“And there won’t be sixty of them.”

Someone nearby nodded.

“They can’t travel with that many people while transporting slaves.”

“They’d attract attention.”

“Exactly,” the chief said.

“The bandits themselves confirmed it.”

“There should be around fifteen of them.”

“And none of them belong to any Familia.”

He gestured toward the room.

“We have over twenty-five people here.”

“We can handle fifteen bandits.”

Then the chief lowered his head deeply.

“Please help us.”

The room fell quiet.

Ars noticed something.

Most of the armed men here were caravan guards from Dalton’s group.

So the chief must have already made some kind of deal with Dalton earlier.

Otherwise they wouldn’t be here.

Which meant the village probably really did have money.

Still…

Ars frowned slightly.

Bandits kidnapping people instead of looting money?

That felt strange.

Wouldn’t normal bandits steal valuables first?

Were slaves really that valuable?

Or were they in such a rush that they didn’t even bother looting properly?

Ars stored the thought away.

People began discussing the plan.

Questions were raised.

Suggestions were made.

Throughout the entire meeting—

The god at the head of the table remained asleep.

Then someone suddenly asked,

“How do we know the bandits told the truth?”

At that moment—

The sleeping man slowly lifted his head.

He had black hair.

Pale skin.

And strangely white eyebrows.

His eyes were pale as well.

He looked human.

But also slightly different.

Ars remembered hearing about multiple races in this world.

But so far, everyone he had seen in the village had been human.

The man looked around the room lazily.

Then he looked at the person who asked the question.

“I personally interrogated them.”

His voice was slow and sleepy.

“The information is true.”

The room immediately quieted.

The chief spoke again.

“This is Lord Hypnos.”

“The god of the Familia stationed in this village.”

“His children are currently away.”

“He is the only one here.”

People nodded respectfully.

Then the chief clapped his hands once.

“If anyone does not wish to participate, you may leave.”

“No one will be forced.”

Nobody moved.

If a god had confirmed the information, then the risk was worth it.

Fifteen bandits.

Twenty-five fighters.

Plus the chance to earn money and loot.

Ars thought for a moment.

He wasn’t a hero.

He wasn’t some righteous saint either.

But if he could help people without doing something unreasonable—

Then he would.

So he stayed.

The discussion continued.

This time, they talked about how the bandits’ loot would be divided.

Since the bandits hadn’t properly looted the village, most of the goods they carried couldn’t be claimed directly by the villagers.

In cases like this, the people who captured the bandits usually received priority when dividing the loot.

The victims would still receive compensation.

But the majority went to the ones who fought.

That was one of the reasons people accepted missions like these.

In the end, they agreed that the division would depend on each person’s contribution.

After the meeting ended, the chief stood.

“Prepare yourselves.”

“Meet at the village gate in thirty minutes.”

“We’ll leave then.”

Everyone began standing up.

Ars also rose from his seat.

But just as he reached the door—

“Wait.”

The sleepy voice came from behind him.

Ars stopped.

He turned around.

Hypnos was looking at him.

The chief was still sitting beside the god.

Ars walked back slowly.

“You needed something?” he asked.

Hypnos tilted his head slightly.

“You’re the one who captured the two bandits?”

“Yes.”

“They said they didn’t even get a chance to fight back.”

“You must be pretty skilled.”

Ars didn’t reply.

Then Hypnos asked another question.

“They also said you lost your memories.”

Ars froze slightly.

“Is that true?”

“What were you doing in that forest?”

The chief blinked in surprise.

“You lost your memory?” he asked Ars.

“You didn’t say anything about that.”

Ars felt sweat forming on his back.

Damn.

He had forgotten about that part of the lie.

And now a god was asking him directly.

If what the bandits said was true—

Gods could see through lies.

“What’s wrong?” Hypnos asked quietly.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

His pale eyes stared straight into Ars.

“Or…”

“Did you lie about that?”

Ars felt his throat tighten.

“I… I—”

*
*
*

Elsewhere in the forest.

The bandits posing as a merchant moved along the road.

“Hurry up, you fools!” the boss shouted from inside the wagon.

“Can’t you see we’re already late for our schedule this time?!”

His mood was terrible.

They were falling behind schedule.

Their group regularly supplied slaves to the black market.

But this time they had been short.

That was why they had raided the village.

They hadn’t even had time to properly loot it.

And now they were still running late.

Then suddenly—

The caravan stopped.

“What the hell?!” the boss shouted.

“Why are we stopping?!”

“Boss!”

One of the bandits outside shouted.

“Please come outside!”

The boss climbed out of the wagon angrily.

“What’s with the commotion—”

He stopped.

Three people stood in front of the road.

He recognized them immediately.

“Sir Hynes?” the boss said nervously.

“We were just coming to meet you.”

The dwarf standing at the front stepped forward.

He had red hair.

Yellow eyes.

And stood barely three and a half feet tall.

But the large axe resting on his broad shoulder made it clear he was not someone to take lightly.

His presence alone was intimidating.

“We couldn’t wait any longer,” Hynes said coldly.

“You were running late.”

“And unlike every other time, you didn’t even send anyone to inform us.”

“So I came to see what happened.”

The bandit boss swallowed.

“But… we did send two people.”

“They should have reached you already.”

Hynes raised an eyebrow.

“No one came.”

The boss’s face turned pale.

“That… that can’t be…”

After a moment he muttered,

“Then… they were captured?”

“Or something happened to them.”

Hynes shrugged.

“It’s safer to assume they were captured.”

The boss immediately became nervous.

“Then what should we do?”

“Should we change the route?”

“We could even hand over the slaves to you now.”

He clearly wanted to return to their hideout as quickly as possible.

Hynes shook his head.

“No.”

“You will continue exactly as planned.”

“My group will follow behind you.”

The bandits had no choice but to agree.

After all—

The three people standing there were adventurers.

Members of a Familia.

Working in the black market.

And the bandits were nothing compared to them.