Chapter 917: Garretts Resolve and Lynns News

"Ex... excuse me?"

Garrett pushed the door open, froze immediately, apologized, and shut the door. He took a few steps back and looked up at the sign above the door:

Mayflower Tavern.

He hadn't gotten it wrong... this really was the center of town, the Mayflower Tavern. He wasn't directionally challenged after all, and with such a distinctive name, it was impossible to forget.

Garrett composed himself, cast a Bubble Spell on himself, and opened the door again. Thick, bluish smoke rushed out immediately.

The scene was akin to a surgical room after a full day of operations with an electrocautery knife while the smoke extractor was broken. Garrett could only be grateful that he had mastered the Bubble Spell to perfection. Inhaling such dense secondhand smoke would shorten his lifespan!

In the midst of the smoke, Mr. Baronsimo sat with his legs crossed, looking extremely relaxed. With a cigarette in his mouth, he was clearly a contributor to the secondhand smoke. Garrett understood him; it's better to smoke firsthand than inhale secondhand smoke.

The object in his arms, which resembled both a guitar and a lute, swayed as he played enthusiastically. Men and women danced joyfully around him.

When Garrett had first opened the door, a waitress had been leaning back, arching her body in a bridge pose over Mr. Baronsimo's outstretched leg. She had even winked at him when she saw him enter.

"Boss, find a place to sit first. The baguettes and clam chowder here are great! The lamb is also quite good. Further in, you won't find any of the black-nosed sheep without the gamey taste!"

Garrett nodded at him, carefully found a seat near a window where the air was slightly fresher, and ordered half a pound of bread, some vegetables, and lamb.

As for clams, no, he didn't want to see any food from the water for at least a month!

Soon, Bernard and Cirilla arrived one after another, each ordering a large amount of food and burying their heads in eating. As for Baronsimo, even after his performance ended, he was surrounded by people continuously.

He sat by the warmest spot near the fire, smiling and chatting with everyone. Garrett noticed that even if he didn't order food, waitresses would frequently bring him food and drinks. And those who came to talk to him were of all kinds:

Women in bright dresses with voluptuous figures;

Waitresses swiftly weaving through the crowd with large trays;

Men in black cloaks who wouldn't take off their hoods even indoors;

Traveling merchants who would immediately hug their large backpacks as soon as they sat down;

Quick-footed, sharp-eyed young men always smiling;

Indigenous warriors carrying huge axes...

"His social skills are truly terrifying," Garrett muttered to himself. Ah, if he had to talk to so many people in one day—not that he couldn't manage, during emergency shifts he saw more patients in a day—but if it was just to gather information...

Ah, the thought was dreadful. With that time, he'd rather find a quiet corner and read "Surgery" or "Emergency and Disaster Medicine" again.

Essentially a socially anxious person worsened by his medical career, Garrett shrank back, immensely grateful for bringing a guide this time.

—There's someone else to handle social interactions!

Once Bernard had finally filled his stomach and was rubbing his belly in satisfaction (whether Cirilla had eaten enough, Garrett didn't know and didn't dare ask), Mr. Baronsimo finally ended his socializing, holding a cup of cloudy wine as he came over to report:

"Boss, I've asked around. In the past six months, nothing particularly unusual has happened deep in the New World—from here straight inland to 300 miles away in the mountains. Further in, there's no news yet."

"According to your instructions, to find Mage Lynn, we need to cross the mountains and keep heading inland. Recently, a caravan is set to depart, and two indigenous tribes have finished their trades and are heading back."

He poured some wine on the table and sketched a simple map:

"The three groups are heading in these directions. Boss, which one do we follow?"

Garrett thought for a moment and wiped the table with his hand. A more detailed and colorful map appeared, depicting mountains, rivers, and valleys in great detail. He pointed to a black line extending straight from the port town inland:

"Can we go on our own? Follow Mr. Troka's path directly?"

"......"

Baronsimo stared at the map with envy, jealousy, and resentment. Silent Illusion, a level 1 spell, was something he could also cast as a bard. But he needed to sing, use hand gestures, and fully concentrate his mental power...

And he could only summon a few fixed illusions. Roses, colorful birds, rabbits. Making a human shape was possible; he had practiced for years to finally succeed in making one for emergency self-defense.

Unlike this person, who with a casual swipe could create anything he wanted, depicting roads and landscapes in minute detail.

Ah, wizards...

Baronsimo swallowed a sigh and focused on the map. Garrett's projection had some errors; some places were flatlands, not forests, some were cliffs, and some were not rivers but swamps...

Clearly, Garrett had identified the terrain based on plant types, mistaking trees for hills, shrubs for flatlands, and reeds for rivers. As for how he got this information, it was better not to think about it—the more he thought, the more envious and jealous he became.

"Boss, if we go straight, there's a swamp here. We'll have to take a long detour..."

"Swamp? I remember Phantom Steeds can run across swamps... I'll ask Appa if he can run. ...He says he can, so no problem."

"There's a mountain here; climbing up is fine, but the cliffs are troublesome..."

"No problem, we can fly down."

"What about the mounts?"

"Phantom Steeds can be dismissed, and Appa can shrink. We'll carry him and fly."

"There are high-level magical beasts in the forest. If we disturb them, traveling will be difficult..."

"How high? Level ten?" Cirilla suddenly leaned over, her silver-blue eyes sparkling with interest:

"Or level fifteen? I haven't replenished my stock of magical beast meat in a long time!"

"......"

Ah, the whims of high-level mages...

But the customer is king, and in this vast world, the one paying is the biggest boss. Baronsimo reminded himself and began seriously evaluating the feasibility of going straight through the wilderness:

These few, Mage Nordmark, although a level 9 mage, should be treated as a level 10 or 11. As for Miss Cirilla, uh...

This team was different from the ones he had led before. In his previous teams, he was often the strongest, leading a group of level 5 or 6 rookies.

Without attaching to a caravan or getting protection from indigenous guides, it was impossible. If something happened, the high-level ones might survive, but the low-level ones would die straight away!

But this small team, with levels 16, 9, 9, and the silver moon deer at level 8, with five key elite members in total, could indeed go straight through unless they encountered level 17 or 18 bigshots!

"In that case, let's change the plan, boss." Baronsimo quickly adapted:

"Buy enough food and supplies, and we'll go straight through the wilderness. Give me a day—or rather, half a day and a night. Tomorrow at dawn, we can set off directly!"

Garrett tossed out a bag of gold coins.

That afternoon and evening, Baronsimo ran around the town, buying all sorts of things. For the bulk items, Garrett took the guide's list directly to the port's Mage Tower:

The host mage was happy to help a level 9 mage, a 6-ring arcanist, a young and promising powerhouse, solve some minor problems.

The next morning, at sunrise, the four of them and the deer bade farewell to the big oak tree outside town and stepped straight into the wilderness.

Garrett, Cirilla, and Baronsimo each rode a Phantom Steed, their ethereal hooves barely disturbing the snowy ground.

As for Bernard, riding the silver moon deer Appa, its adaptability to the snowfields was far superior to that of humans.

"Yes, this direction!" Mr. Troka peeked out from Garrett's cloak, his eyes sparkling as he looked ahead:

"I remember this route! When I escaped, I ran into the town from this direction!"

Garrett petted the black cat's fur and looked ahead, gazing into the distance. According to Lynn's description, he had traveled thousands of miles, crossing mountains, rivers, and highlands—

Though he stopped frequently to rest, research, or stay with a tribe for a month or two, he had spent at least half a year traveling.

If they went straight and quickened their pace, they might arrive in two or three months—but could Lynn hold out until they reached him?

The rising sun shone on Garrett's party and on a grand stone structure in the distant western highlands.

At this moment, deep underground in the stone structure, a golden-glowing woman, surrounded by maids, walked unhurriedly down the passageway.

Descending, descending, she reached the fifth underground level and entered a heavily guarded dungeon. There, she dismissed the maids and pressed gently on the wall, making the stone ripple like water to welcome her in.

"Mage Lynn..."

The woman smiled gently, sitting close to Lynn:

"Have you made up your mind? Only I can save you. As long as you agree to my terms, you won't have to become a sacrifice~~~~"

Table of content