Having acquired things to make my journey more agreeable, my journey onward was much smoother. Much like what the handler Dan had introduced to me had warned, there were monsters, but nothing I couldn't deal with. Most of them, in fact, didn't even dare to engage, scattering into the distance at the sight of me. Some part of me was happy for that development, but another, not so much.

  I wanted to level up, and to level up, I needed to acquire experience. To acquire experience, I needed to defeat monsters, not just any monsters, but those of my level or stronger. That was the path to getting stronger, which was my secondary goal.

  So yes, I longed for fights that would allow me to level up. In a sense, it's like I was wishing for a monster to get in my way. However, I understood very well that such a wish was a double-edged sword. There was always the chance that the one to acquire experience would be the monster, not me. So, the sight of monsters scattering at the sight of me was both relieving and disappointing.

  I've had many of these conflicting feelings on the road, but as I'd been told, by the end of the evening of the second day, I reached a human settlement. It was a small town, where handlers usually rested on their way to the next destination. Resting was something I also planned to do. The moment I heard about the existence of the town, I knew I would most likely take a rest, especially since I reached it at exactly the end of the afternoon.

  I didn't want to travel at night. It wasn't that visibility would restrain me as it would any other person, but it was more about the possibility of being assaulted when sleep-deprived by monsters that are well known for being more active at night. So, since I was going to rest, I might as well do it in a safe and warm place. The settlement, often used by handlers as a resting point, had institutions offering accommodations for travelers. While it was nowhere near the level of service that the Silver Griffin Inn provided, the accommodations were still better than sleeping on the ground, even with all the accessories I'd purchased. Yes, they made sleeping on the ground more bearable, but they could hardly compare to the warmth of a proper bed.

  Just like I did in the city, early in the morning, I left the town and went back on the road. If what the handler said to me was true, which I was beginning to trust without a doubt, I would stumble upon a town similar to this one at one-day intervals each along the way. There would be three to be exact, four if one were to count the town I'd already stopped at before I arrived at the next city, Eimbridge.

  Eimbridge reminded me a lot of Wexlow with its layout and ambiance.

  At first, I considered not stopping in the city at all, but the knowledge of the handler Dan had introduced me to was limited to this region, meaning that from here on out in my journey, I'd be going blind again. This led me to once again seek out a handler to inform me of the state of the road and its possible dangers before getting on the road again.

  To tell the truth, I was more or less familiar with the region ahead, as it was where I was once born and raised in a past incarnation. Ironically, it was that very reason that motivated me to find a handler. That past incarnation's circumstances made it so that while I was born in the region, I wasn't very familiar with the region as a whole. Besides, that incarnation of mine lived about six decades before my birth as "Faye," meaning that there were about 80 years between the little knowledge I had of the region and the current state of the region. So really, it was wiser to gather up intel first.

  Fair enough, upon asking, I was told that the road to the next city was a rather dangerous one. Being a lone wanderer, I would be boldly stupid to attempt it alone. Instead, I should either wait for the next handling convoy or contract a handlers to privately escort me.

  Handlers usually handle two types of commissions. There's one commonly referred to as "Public Handling" or caravan handling, where they escort a large procession, usually organized by the city, to transfer goods between cities. This also typically includes anyone wishing to travel but not having the budget to contract a handler privately. Of course, there's still a fee, but it's much cheaper as these commissions are usually financed by the city. The other type of contract is called private handling, where handlers are hired by individuals who can afford their services.

  When asking for information about the region, I was strongly suggested by the handler I encountered to either wait for the next convoy as the city’s quadriweekly handler caravan contract had just left a few days before my arrival, meaning that I either had to wait for the next one or contract a handler to privately escort me. In any case, I was told I should contract handlers, as the road to my destination, the city of Auroravia, unlike the route between Wexlow and Eimbridge, was one of the most dangerous roads in the Lysandria Duchy, if not the entire kingdom, being riddled with both monsters and bandits.

  At some point, they even suggested a private contract, but once I heard the level of the said handler and their fee, I decided to proceed out of the city on my own. With enough speed, I believed I should be able to catch up to the procession I was told I missed by just two days. And catch up on them I did, in less than one day and two towns later.

  As I entered the small town, I saw a sign that read "Bellmoral." The moment I stepped in, I felt the weight of many gazes on me. Not the townspeople, well, some of them were townspeople, but most of the curious glances came from the members of the procession escorted by the handlers, outsiders, fellow travelers, setting up temporary camps outside the town. They were either resting on the grass by their wagons, taking cover from the midday sun, or cooking something over open fires.

  From a first glance, Bellmoral didn’t look much different from the other small towns and villages I had stumbled upon during my journey. It was a town with wooden houses, thatched roofs, and narrow, winding streets nestled against a backdrop of towering mountains. The strategic placement of the town allowed it to focus on what it had the potential to do best: providing hospitality services, food, and places to rest for the long journey that the people escorted by the handlers and the handlers themselves went through.

  In the previous towns, they weren’t very surprised to see me. Though perplexed by the sight of a lone traveler, they still offered great services. I wouldn’t go as far as to rate their services five stars, but considering the size of the village, the accommodations were top-notch. Having arrived on my own, I received quite a unique service, as I got the town for myself, that was something I knew would be different here in Bellmoral given the sheer number of people present.

  Paying no attention to their curious glances, I continued deeper into the town on my glorious stallion. It was then that I saw two men talking before looking my way. From their outfits, one looking like a city guard and the other a mix between a warrior and a druid. That coupled with the fact that my peons detector told me that they were Verdenkind, I concluded logically that they were handlers.

  "Hello, there," I greeted them.

  "Hi," they responded in unison.

  "You traveled here alone?" asked the one dressed like a city guard immediately after greeting me.

  I nodded. "I did. I came from Eimbridge."

  "Oh..."

  "Truth is, I came from further west than Eimbridge. But when I arrived there, planning on joining the procession for the rest of my journey to Auroravia, I heard that you guys were already gone."

  The duo nodded as they listened, and then, finally registering a detail, they looked at each other. The one dressed like a city guard spoke, as if breaking it down to me, "We’re not heading to Auroravia, though."

  "I know," I replied with a smile. "I just planned on sharing the road," I lied, having no motivation or reason to explain my real plans to these two randoms.

  "I see..." said the other, "that makes more sense."

  "Now, could you two please tell me where I can find Tom, the Menace? I heard he's the one in charge."

  They nodded. "He is. If you’re looking for him, he’s in The Supreme Bear."

  "The Supreme Bear?" I echoed.

  "Oh, it’s a tavern," one of them explained.

  "Go straight down this main road until you reach a large oak tree at the center of the square," he began, gesturing with his hand. "Take a left there and follow the road until you see a building with a large wooden bear sign hanging above the door. You can’t miss it."

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  "Thank you," I said with a nod and continued on my way, following the directions they had given me.

  The Supreme Bear was just as the duo had described. I couldn't miss it. The building stood prominently, its structure reflecting the typical architectural style of Bellmoral with its wooden walls and old dark gray framework. A large, intricately carved wooden bear sign hung above the entrance, swaying gently in the breeze. Men were gathered outside on the veranda, drinking and chatting loudly. As I approached on Veilleuse-01, their boisterous laughter and conversation filled the air. They eyed me curiously but said nothing, allowing me to dismount and tie my horse alongside the others.

  Ignoring their stares, I proceeded inside. The interior of The Supreme Bear was a lively cacophony of sound and scent. The chatter was even louder inside, voices mingling into an indistinct roar. The smell of alcohol was pervasive, not as sophisticated as the refined liquors of my old world, but still oddly enticing. The inn was filled with people dressed in all manners of attire. Some wore mage robes, others were clad in heavy armor, and one man inexplicably sat bare-chested. They came in all shapes and sizes, from towering figures built like fridges to others as slender as twigs. Despite their differences, one thing united them all, they were Verdenkinds. My internal peon detector confirmed it instantly. The only ones who weren't Verdenkinds were the peons scurrying around with large bear mugs, serving drinks and clearing tables.

  I scanned the room, searching for this "Tom, the Menace", but couldn't spot him among the throng. Understanding that this wouldn’t work since I didn’t even know what "Tom, the Menace" looks like, I made my way to the counter, wedging myself into a corner where I could catch the attention of the tall, bulky man serving drinks. He quickly noticed me.

  "What can I do for you?" he asked, his voice gruff.

  "I'm looking for a man, a certain Tom, the Menace. Do you know him?"

  He didn't answer immediately, instead sizing me up with a scrutinizing gaze. "You didn't come with them, did you?" he finally asked.

  "I didn't, but I have business with him," I said, placing a 25? coin on the table. "So where can I find him?"

  The man looked confused at first, then pointed with a motion of his jaw. "He's on the second floor, with the other captains."

  "I see," I mumbled, glancing in the direction he indicated.

  The Bulky man reached for the coin, but as he did I retracted it. His expression soured, but before he could voice a complaint, I added, "I've never met him, just heard of him, so I don't know what he looks like. Care to help me."

  I slid the coin towards him, and this time he took it immediately, pocketing it in his apron. "If you see a man with a long and weird mustache, that's him. You can't miss him."

  "I see," I replied, turning to head for the second floor without thanking him.

  From a pragmatic point of view, there was no way that information was worth 25?, 5? at best. But by doing so, I scratched something off my to-do list, if I had one. I'd always found it cool in movies, and I'd always wanted to try it. Ironically, it wasn't before I died, but after I died several times that I finally got the opportunity to do this. Perhaps that's why it felt like a very questionable investment rather than the thrilling experience I had once imagined it to be.

  The second floor of The Supreme Bear was noticeably less cramped than the bustling scene below. There was more space for people to move around, which made it easier for me to spot someone fitting the bulky man's description.

  He had a long, peculiar mustache that curled at the ends, giving him a distinguished, if somewhat eccentric, appearance. He was sitting at the end of a table, atop which lay a whole roasted rooster, a large bottle of what appeared to be wine, and several empty mugs. He shared the table with six other men.

  I walked up to the table, feeling the weight of their gazes on me. The second floor, being more exclusive and less crowded, meant that I attracted more attention here than I did downstairs. "I'm looking for Tom, the Menace," I announced, approaching the man with the strange mustache.

  "I think that's me, right guys?" the man instinctively replied before bursting into laughter, joined by the others at the table. Though he appeared inebriated, his head fell to the side as he looked at me. "Who's asking?" he replied, his tone guarded.

  "Just a wandering magician."

  At these words, he looked up, our gazes finally meeting. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if sobering up. "And what does a wandering magician need from me?"

  "Just some of your time. There are some things I would like to ask you," I explained, wanting to make all hints of hesitation disappear. "It'll be worth your time," I declared, making the sound of the purse faintly reverberate, enough for him to catch on.

  I had heard this line countless times in movies. Having worked in the "industry" in my original world, I knew it to be true. Sure, there were people who claimed otherwise, but they just hadn’t heard the right price yet.

  This principle applied not only in my original world but also in this new one. For Verdenkind, determining their price was relatively easy. Most Verdenkinds’ price are relative to their level. For those at levels 1 to halfway between 10 and 20, money in its most conventional form was often sufficient to buy them. However, for those beyond level 20 and approaching level 25, simple money wouldn't suffice. At that threshold, Verdenkinds can be considered a small powerhouse of their own, which is why they’re often immediately recruited by wealthy factions. Around this level, a new sentiment would take root. Verdenkinds of this level would begin to wonder if it’s worth continuing to level up, considering the risks involved. Many at this stage chose to enjoy life and effectively retire, knowing that striving for higher levels might lead to a premature death.

  Now, this man before me didn’t strike me as one of the former, or else he wouldn’t be known as the most booked handler of the duchy. He looked like someone that could be bought with money, especially considering what I needed of him, as proven by his answer. "I’m all ears."

  Looking around at the surrounding commotion and the other men at the table who were also all ears, I said, "Not here."

  As soon as we left the tavern, he looked at me with a glare that urged me to explain myself. "I came from Eimbridge. When I was there, I was told by the local handlers that you were the one I should be finding for what I need," I explained.

  "Oh, so what is it that you need my help with, Miss?" he asked, already growing impatient.

  Reintroducing myself with a lie, I said, "I'm a wandering magician. I'm traveling, and my next destination is Auroravia."

  "Auroravia?" he echoed, skepticism clear in his voice.

  "Before you ask, yes, I know you and this expedition are only heading to Meley, the next city, and no, I'm not asking you to escort me there."

  His expression shifted, and he looked even more confused. "Then what do you want from me? Go straight to the point."

  "Alright, I want to get to Auroravia without going through Meley," I tearsely explained.

  He frowned at first as if hearing something stupid, but then his frown deepened, realizing what I truly meant. "You mean what I think you mean..."

  "Yes, I want to go through the Pass," I clarified, my voice steady. But this prompted him to burst into mocking laughter.

  "Do you have a death wish, or are you just clueless about the place you're planning to pass through?"

  "Neither."

  Seeing how serious I was, he abruptly stopped laughing. "You know what's in the place you're talking about, right?"

  "Yes. I know. Monsters."

  He sighed heavily, exasperated.

  "That's why I came to find you. I need you to tell me what you, the last handler who crossed the Pass, know about it."

  Ahead, a few days's travel from here, there's a large chain of mountains named the Yelling Peaks. It easily has some of the highest elevations in the kingdom and is among the top thirteen on the continent.

  To reach my destination, Auroravia, one has two options. The most common, and easily the most reasonable option, follows a path around the mountains, takes a rest in the city of Meley, and then continues onward to Auroravia, basically avoiding the mountain chain altogether. The other option involves crossing through the mountains via the Pass, which is the path I want to take. Despite being the quickest route for someone wishing to get to Aurororavia, it's not the most popular one. In fact, it's a route Handlers refuse to travel, deeming it too dangerous because of the monsters that lurk there.

  Tom's expression was a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Mind telling me why you want to go through that road that bad."

  "I'm in a hurry," I replied simply.

  He sneered, "Is there really a hurry that makes passing through that place worth it? I'm sorry, but you don't really seem like you're aware of how dangerous that place is."

  "As far as I'm aware, it's not the only dangerous place."

  "If you're talking about the common route, you're right. It's not dangerless. There are bandits, but you can reason with them. As long as you pay their little fine, they won't cause you any trouble."

  When I arrived in Eimbridge, I heard that banditry had become a real problem for the cities of Auroravia and Meley. Bandits take advantage of the route to commit their misdeeds. Banditry has always been a problem, even back in the days when I'd spawned and grew up in this region, but over the past half-century, its has become so prevalent of an activity that little villages have spawned out of the various thieving groups. The inhabitants of these villages subsist--no they quite literally thrive on taxes charged to travelers in exchange for not being mugged. Sometimes, especially when they feel a target is worth exploiting much more than their usual extortion fee, they'll jump right to the mugging.

  "Reasoning is something you can't do with monsters," Tom explained, a bitter expression on his face as if reminiscing about an unpleasant experience.

  He looked at me and most likely saw how completely unfazed I was to his words, prompting him to sigh again. "I won't be able to change your mind, will I?"

  "You're right, you won't. So I would appreciate it if you don't waste both our time so that you can get back to what you were up to and I can get back on the road," I said, reaching for a purse on my waist and presenting it to him.

  He looked at the purse before shaking his head in defeat. "Well, at least I would’ve tried," he said, reaching for the purse. "Whatever it is that makes you in such a hurry to get to Auroravia, I hope it is really worth risking your life."

  I made no comment, but in my mind, I couldn't help but sigh at how wrong he was. All of this, it was never a matter of how hurried I was. No, in fact, it wasn't even a matter of getting to Auroravia. It was a much simpler matter: making sure I didn't set foot in the region surrounding Meley, for it was a place where I once spawned, but more poignantly, it was the place also where I died, not once but twice. I had to avoid that place at any cost.