Chapter 23: Is It That Simple? |
At dusk, the sky over Duskwood grew even more overcast, and the distant cawing of crows drifted through the air.
Inside the inn, Allen sat on the bed, glanced out the window, then looked down at the cloak in his hands.
It had been hastily made by Wen Lei and the town tanner during the day Allen had been unconscious.
Wen Lei had told him everyone agreed to give this cloak to him.
[Rupus's Hide]
Back: "Superior Quality"
18 Armor
+2 Stamina
+3 Agility
"Mr. Prestor, I'm the clerk from Darkshire. Your bounty and your companions' reward have arrived, may I come in?"
Was it already time for the meeting with the clerk?
Allen didn't answer but quickly fastened the cloak.
"Constitution 11" → "Constitution 13"!
"Agility 11" → "Agility 14"!
No one replied, yet the door was pushed open.
The clerk entered, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a well-tailored dark suit, his demeanor still composed.
He carried a fairly large wooden box, about half the height of a person, looking heavy.
Seeing Allen seated, the clerk seemed slightly surprised.
"Mr. Prestor, you're already awake?"
Allen eyed the box and raised an eyebrow. "Clerk, does a single gold coin require such a large chest?"
"Sir, I must remind you, Duskwood is dangerous. Being alone isn't wise."
The clerk smiled faintly, set the box on the floor, then leisurely smoothed his collar and cuffs, his movements elegant like someone sitting in a noble salon.
"If you're hoping the stupid paladin downstairs will do it, I must tell you, he's already asleep."
Allen snorted and dropped the act. He pointed at the clerk's sleeve, his voice laced with undisguised scorn:
"I should have noticed earlier. I just didn't expect you to be so monstrous as to slaughter your employer's family and then parade around in their clothes."
On the cuff of the clerk's dark suit was an unobtrusive emblem: a shield bearing three wavy diagonal stripes.
The de Montmorency family crest — this was de Montmorency's clothing.
Before he lost consciousness, Allen had traced a trail of clues leading to the sheriff's office in Darkshire and had seen Stalvan's traces woven through the mess.
So in the hall of his memory he replayed the moment they first arrived in Darkshire. He recalled the clerk tugging his cuff when he saw them, and this time he noticed the emblem on that cuff.
The smile on the clerk's face didn't change, but the eyes behind his lenses suddenly deepened ominously.
"Tiroia gave this to me," he murmured, a sickly tenderness in his tone. "That day she smiled at me and said this suit suited me. I knew then she was confessing to me. She loved me, but that crude young man blinded her... She needs time to see who truly understands her..."
He babbled on, and as he spoke he drew two daggers from his belt. They twirled in his hands like two silver vipers dancing on his fingertips.
Allen pointed at him and said only three words.
"Disgusting."
No sooner had he finished—
Shoo!
A sharp arrow lunged from the room's shadow like a venomous snake and instantly pierced the clerk's throat.
Sput! A spray of blood burst out.
The daggers dropped from the clerk's hands with a clatter. He clutched his throat as blood gushed from between his fingers.
"This... how is this possible..."
He staggered, swayed left and right, then collapsed with a convulsion and went still.
Varian crawled out from under the bed, still gripping a sword hilt, eyes alert.
From the blankets, Stella poked her blue head out, cheeks flushed, panting hard.
From the shadows, Wen Lei stepped forward, the bowstring in his hands still trembling faintly.
Just that simple? Stalvan died just like that?
Half a day earlier, Allen had told Wen Lei that the clerk who'd handled the bounty might very well be Stalvan.
Coincidentally, the clerk had arranged to come that evening to deliver the bounty.
So Allen had asked Wen Lei, after retrieving Stella and "Mathias," not to leave through the front but to circle back.
Using Stella's goblin-variant rocket boots, they launched from the grove behind the inn and silently infiltrated the room.
Not completely silent — Varian had accidentally punched through the ceiling when his rocket boots misfired.
They had been asking around about Stalvan's whereabouts, so the clerk must have noticed their intentions.
If he realized they were there and that someone was alone, would he be unable to restrain himself from acting?
Allen had intended to probe a little longer; after all, perhaps it really was a coincidence. Maybe the clerk wore that suit for unrelated reasons.
But he never expected that once the clerk discovered someone alone in the room, he would simply drop the pretense and act.
That saved Allen some trouble.
Varian walked up to the corpse and plunged his sword into the heart without ceremony, stabbing twice more to be absolutely certain the man was dead.
"That easy?" He looked up, incredulous.
"Reasonable," Wen Lei sheathed his bow. "He's a pervert, but only a tutor. It's not surprising he was weak."
Wait, no.
Allen rose from the bed, stepped to the corpse, and looked down at the delicate face.
Something felt off.
In Allen's previous life, Stalvan in the game had been a tougher elite than Mor'Ladim, but this Stalvan... was utterly ordinary, no stronger than a commoner.
With such pathetic skills, would he really flip out and try to stab us now?
If Allen were him, an ordinary man who discovered five seemingly strong mercenaries asking about him across town, he'd flee Darkshire at once.
Thinking that, Allen crouched and lifted the corpse's trouser leg.
He saw several dark brown blotches.
They weren't bloodstains and not wounds.
They were...
[Perception Check: 16, Success]
[You notice obvious livor mortis on the corpse's ankles, deep and unchanging under pressure. Livor mortis normally appears hours after death, which means this corpse had been dead for some time.]
"No! This corpse wasn't killed by us, he was already dead!" What had been a suspicion became a certainty with the check.
Varian looked puzzled at Allen's words.
"What do you mean already dead?"
Allen lifted the trouser leg to show the lividity.
"Look here. This body has been dead long before we arrived. He presented us with a 'Stalvan' while the real one is likely still out there. I suspect he wanted us to believe Stalvan had been struck down so he could slip away under another identity once we left."
Wen Lei examined the body and agreed, then flung open the window. "Animating corpses — necromancy like that means the caster can't be far. He must be nearby."
Varian leaped to the window and scanned the distance.
A dark figure in the distance was turning, as if sensing something, then started sprinting away.
"There he is!"
Varian shouted and without hesitation dove out the window!
Wen Lei didn't hesitate either; his agile form vaulted out like a hunting cat.
Seeing everyone jump, Stella scrambled onto the windowsill with her short legs, took a deep breath, and leapt.
Allen was stunned to see her open a tiny parachute midair, drifting down gently.
"Hey! Don't be rash! Wait for Morgan and me!"
Seeing the three dashing off, Allen glanced down from the second floor, took a deep breath, and psyching himself up.
Don't be afraid, you can do this. Jump, parkour, chase the killer. This is what thrilling fantasy adventures are made of.
Jump!
Come on!
Moments later Allen jogged down the stairs, short sword in hand, and slapped the sleeping Morgan awake.
"Still sleeping? Get up, it's time to fight!"