Night was falling fast as Azrael continued on his way. He would have to stop for the night soon though. The small sliver of a moon that was rising was not sufficient enough to cast a good shadow to [Shadow Step] through.

In theory, he figured it was possible to apply the skill to any sufficiently dark surface, but his expertise with the Skill hadn’t quite reached the level required to do so.

One of the annoying things about unique skills was their lack of Level, which meant any increase in proficiency he saw was entirely up to his own practice and judgment. As it was, he pushed ahead burning through his mana supply at an unsustainable rate. He could recharge while he rested later.

Though he could have continued with bursts of [Wind] to continue travelling during the night, it was better to get as far ahead as he could using his usual shadow diving technique, before the last of the true shadows merged with the night. There was also the prospect of an inn to spend the night with – if one of the conversations two travellers had had were to be believed.

Azrael smiled faintly at that memory. It was amazing how much rubbish two people could talk about if they thought that nobody was listening. Those two hadn’t been the only travellers on the road through the forest, with far more players underway than Azrael would have thought.

Many of them had been discussing a ‘raid’, though he hadn’t stopped to listen. He was just glad that people had stopped talking about the chaos in Nova Lux. It seemed the fiasco was finally dying down – at least for the general players. He was sure that Holy Empire was still secretly searching for him.

So in thought was Azrael that he almost missed the Inn. Built right against the road, on the other side from where Azrael was travelling, the two-story building was made completely of wood, including the walls, windows, roof and stables. Colour wise it blended in perfectly with the rest of the forest, especially in the fading light of evening. The only reason he didn’t miss it was due to the scent of roasting meat wafting through the surrounds, enticing hungry travellers. Azrael was definitely both hungry and a traveller.

He’d hunted on his journey, with no lack of prey in the wilderness, but anything he managed to cook over a fire had tasted fairly bland. Once he’d stopped and joined a travelling caravan of NPCs for dinner, but most nights he went without food. As a player the game conveniently decreased his need for sustenance, as well as his hunger. This ability had only grown along with his stats, giving rise to a suspicion that there was a link he wasn’t quite aware of.

Slipping out of the tree line, he crossed the road and approached the inn. Two carts were parked alongside the building, while he could hear gentle whickering from the stables. Through [Soul Sense] he registered a little over a dozen people, almost all of them players. He almost triggered [Search] to pinpoint everyone’s location before entering, but refrained in case one of them was more sensitive to mana.

Gently opening the door, he strode in with enough confidence that nobody would try to pick on him, but without the excess bravado that might cause somebody to take offence or wish to challenge him.

A few heads turned his way as he entered, the chatter briefly dying down, before returning back to normal volume as everyone continued their conversations. Azrael smelt the air, enjoying the stronger scent of roast meat and ale.

The layout of the bottom floor was a simple design. Tavern design on the bottom floor, with many tables and a serving bar to one side and a staircase near the back, no doubt leading upwards to rentable rooms. Azrael walked over to the bar.

“One meal, no ale.” He said, to the bearded innkeeper, while slipping a few smaller mana stones onto the bar from the pouch at his waist.

He’d hunted plenty of beasts, either for dinner or to stop himself from becoming dinner, and had accrued a small sum of mana stones. To his surprise and delight one of the NPC merchants of the caravan he’d spent the night with had informed him that mana stone were also an accepted currency, due to the growing demand from players.

The innkeeper behind the bar looked up from where he was cleaning an ale mug and gave Azrael an unsatisfied grunt. Azrael correctly interpreted it and fished out a slightly larger mana stone out of his pouch, from beside the handcuffs, and placed it beside the others.

With a certain sort of practiced skill, the innkeeper swept the mana stones off the bar counter and still somehow managed to continue cleaning the mug. The innkeeper let out another sort of grunt, while thrusting his head in the direction of one of the few remaining empty tables.

Azrael went to sit down, taking the table in the corner furthest from the door. The light here was a little dimmer than the rest of the room, making him feel less exposed. Discretely, he observed the other occupants of the room.

The majority of them were swordsmen, with different styles of blades, though Azrael could see two bows resting against a wall. There were no mages and fortunately no followers of Purity, or members of Holy Empire.

Letting his head rest against the wall at his back, he closed his eyes and listened in to the nearest conversation.

“… At least that’s what I heard Janek.”

“Nah, you’ve got it all wrong. I mean it’s undeniable that the Holy Empire was there when they slew the Southern Earth Giant, we’ve all seen the videos, but a friend of mine was there and he told me that it was the Red Sands Guild, along with the Desert tribes, a coalition from the dwarven cities and a whole group of adventurers and free players that actually dealt all the damage. More than half died though. The Holy Empire only really stood there and looked all flashy. Then they tried to steal most of the corpse and claim it as their own. Not only that, but then they took all the credit on the forums and media. A publicity stunt. That’s what it is, a publicity stunt to cover up their big mess in the city. My brother’s shop got burned down in that riot. Bloody incompetents, that’s what they are, bloody…”

His friends tried to calm him down and eventually turned to a different topic.

“What do you think is beyond there?” one of them asked.

“Beyond where?”

“You know, the second ring?”

“Dunno. My cousins signed up for the expedition that they’re launching beyond the southern pass, but I doubt we’ll hear anything anytime soon.

“At least the World guardian raid in the south succeeded, ‘cause I heard they got absolutely demolished in the north. The Northern Serpent just smashed through all of their ships.”

“Well, that’s what you’d expect from a bunch of fishermen.”

“Nah, I heard that the Pirate King and his fleet joined in, as well as the Diver. They managed to stay alive, but their rep took a hit. Maybe it would have been different if more Rankers joined the fight. If I remember correctly Red Sand’s guildmaster, The Red Duelist was there for the World raid in the south, along with Banditos, and The Heavenly Archer.”

“They say the Blade King was in the area too, but I’m not sure he joined in.”

“That battle maniac? He’s more likely to…”

Their conversation paused midway, as did every other conversation in the inn. When it didn’t resume a moment later, Azrael opened his eyes. His meal, roast and potatoes was served on his table, but that wasn’t why everyone had paused. A hulking figure had entered the room, his blonde hair sitting above blue eyes. It wasn’t his size, or his slightly bloody and terribly cleaned clothes that everyone was looking at. It was the massive sword on his back.

“An ale” The newcomer said, drawing his sword from his back.

Despite the size of the weapon compared to the small room the move didn’t look cumbersome. Those closest to him shrunk back, but he simply lay the weapon on the closest table. In the absolute stillness of the inn, an audible creak sounded out from the table. Azrael was surprised the thing didn’t collapse.

The innkeeper brought the man a tankard that was almost overflowing with ale and then bowed several times as he accepted the payment. The two players who had been seated at the table hurriedly stood and found another, taking their plates and tankards with them. Completely ignoring them the big man took an appreciative sip of his ale and seemingly relaxed.

Azrael’s body on the other hand was completely tense, expecting the man to suddenly burst into action. The Beast inside of him strained against its bonds, urging him to strike first. A danger eliminated was a danger solved. He restrained it and took a bite out of his meal with a casualness that he didn’t feel. Despite no doubt being the best food he’d had since the last inn, it was completely tasteless in his mouth. His thoughts were racing so fast that he didn’t have enough mental capacity to take in the flavours.

He could run. He didn’t want to run. There was no reason to run. He could fight. He didn’t want to fight. There was no reason to fight. Ok, he wanted to fight a little, but that was more his gamer’s soul and The Beast speaking, than the logical part of his brain.

He cleared that thought away. There was no reason to run or fight. Logically, there was nothing between him and the man. It was only the man’s sudden appearance that had startled him, after he had decided to avoid him. It didn’t mean that the man was here for him, or following him. Holy Empire most likely didn’t have anything to do with this either. It was a coincidence that both he and the man were travelling in the same direction. If Holy Empire knew where he was, then they would have sent a greater force than a single man, no matter how skilled or dangerous he might be. He was just hoping to avoid trouble that was all.

Letting out a quite sigh, he cleared away those thoughts. If he wanted to live a normal life then the best way to act was to be normal. Relaxing his posture, he turned back to his food.

An empty tankard slammed down hard against his table and a face lowered itself to take up most of his vision. Azrael hadn’t even noticed the giant man move, or finish his tankard of ale for that matter.

The whole inn was holding its breath and Azrael took the moment to inspect the man.

Name: James

Class: Heavy Swordsman (Lv. 10), Guardian (Lv.8)

“Fight me” James said.