Overgeared: Saharan Successor

Chapter 51: Nocturna's Requiem

The journey back to Fullbaz took about two to three hours, the path winding through the dense Wyrnwood forest.

As Odin led the group through the Wyrnwood forest, the atmosphere gradually shifted. 

The oppressive weight of fear that had once hung over the villagers like a cloud was now replaced by something lighter, a sense of relief. 

The dark woods scared the living daylights out of the poor villagers. They were filled with the terrifying echoes of unseen creatures, and now they felt strangely subdued. 

Though the forest had a reputation for being treacherous, with wild beasts and dangerous creatures lurking in its depths, the group encountered no immediate threats at least from Odin's perspective since he took care of all the Goblins in a couple of seconds, practicing his Magic Missile Accuracy. 

In a way, the Missile didn't need him to control the spell trajectory since it was shaped in such a way that it would always land on the target he casted the spell, like a guided projectile.

The monsters who threw themselves at his horse's feet were only fed for the roots and dirt of the Wyrnwoods.

As for the Wild Beasts and Dire Beasts, there were none that got into his path. Perhaps it was Odin's presence, or the quiet determination of his companions, but the journey felt more like a final stretch than an ordeal.

Odin himself rode calmly at the head of the group, his crimson eyes flickering every so often as he cast occasional Magic Missiles toward the shadows. Not because there were any threats but rather to practice his accuracy and mana control. 

The guided projectiles flew like streaks of crimson light, effortlessly finding their targets, even if it was just a lone tree or stray rock. He didn't need to guide the missiles, the magic did it for him, akin to an dutiful AI assistant that he often used on a daily basis, but there was something satisfying about perfecting the release, the effortless control. 

His companions walked in a steady march, not once complaining about the long hike. The villagers followed closely behind, still wary but gradually relaxing as they left the dark heart of the forest behind.

The group slowly made their way through the forest, entering the Farmlands that showed signs of stability for once in these five days of madness since the Monster Wave Episode hit the region of Fullbaz Marquisate.

The panic that had gripped the region for days seemed to have finally subsided thanks to the 'Chosen Ones' hard, selfish work.

As they neared the village, the murmurs began. The first voice was small, a whisper that barely reached Odin's ears from behind him.

"Thank the gods," an older villager said, her voice filled with awe and relief. We thought we were lost, but these warriors… these heroes… they brought us back, safe and sound."

Others quickly echoed her sentiment, whispers spreading like a ripple through the group.

"They didn't leave us behind, not even when we slowed them down…"

"They walked with us… all the way through the woods."

"You see that one on the horse?" one villager pointed toward Odin, his voice filled with admiration. "He's the reason we're safe. So we should better show our appreciation to the Great Magician."

'Wait, I'm not a Mage, why are those peasants confusing my role?'

[Haha, pathetic peasants. They don't even know what a Great Magician looks like.]

'Well, technically, I will also be one, right? Once I craft your Vessel of the Soul and you give me the rest of the Magic Knowledge.'

[Hmph, you still have a lot of work to do for you to even be considered a Magician.]

'Not that I wish to be known as a Magician. My initial goal was to become a Red Knight, but with the new chances happening to me, I don't even know what I should pursue.'

[What should you pursue? Simple. You should pursue greatness. You're already someone who has touched temporarily on the doorsteps of Transcendence. You're also a Legendary figure just like me.]

'Pursue greatness. That's considerate of you.'

While Odin was talking with Braham, as he had for most of the two-hour journey out of the Wyrnwoods, a younger man, his voice shaking with gratitude, called out more directly, "Thank you, Lord! Thank you for saving us!" His words were followed by others, and the villagers finally allowed themselves to express the relief and appreciation they had been holding back.

One of the village women, a petite middle-aged woman with kind eyes, managed to muster the courage to speak to Odin directly. "We've heard tales of warriors like you… but never did we think we'd meet one. Thank you for keeping us safe."

[ The favorability of all the rescued villagers towards you has increased by 60 points. Your affinity has reached (80/100 | Loyal).]

Odin gave her a nod, acknowledging the thanks but keeping his focus ahead. His demeanor was calm, his mind already calculating what needed to be done next. 

'I'm pretty sure those peasants are more loyal to me than to their Marquis. Interesting, I didn't expect much gain from them, but I guess it was worthed.'

Even though he didn't say much, his presence reassured them. He was their protector, silent but deadly, and they trusted him implicitly.

Not far from the front, Purphoros was walking alongside the villagers, looking more awkward than anything. He was built like a fortress, his massive figure easily towering over most of the men and even some of the larger women in the group. Yet, for all his imposing strength, he seemed a little… flustered.

It was because of her.

The busty brunette who had been walking beside him for most of the journey—a villager in her mid-30s, with a strikingly voluptuous figure, the kind that made the other men in the group stare a bit too long when they thought no one was looking. 

She had rich brown hair that flowed down her back in loose curls, and her eyes sparkled with both gratitude and something else, more intimate.

"You really are my knight in shining armor, aren't you?" she whispered, looking up at Purphoros with a mischievous smile. Her voice was rich and smooth, each word dripping with affection. "I don't know how we would have made it through that forest without you by our side. So strong, so brave…"

Purphoros, who usually could calm and collect himself in combat situations against a plethora of monsters, even against Boss monsters such as the Hobgoblin Champion, Dazan of the Black Wolves, felt his face heat up. 

He wasn't used to this kind of attention, especially not from the fairer sex, and not from a beautiful woman like Julian, as he learned her name to be. His massive frame now felt clumsy and awkward under her gaze. He tried to clear his throat, forcing himself to maintain some semblance of composure.

"Uh… I-It's nothing," Purphoros stammered, his deep voice uncharacteristically unsteady. "Just doing what… uh… anyone would do."

She giggled softly, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Not anyone could do what you did. While I was under that Witch's spell, I saw you fight bravely against that monster… I've never seen anything like it." 

She placed a hand on his arm, the light touch sending a wave of heat through him. "You're a real hero. My Hero."

[ Villager 'Julian' favorability towards you has increased by 25 points, and your relationship has reached 'Loyal/Affectionate' (74/100).]

Purphoros tried to keep his cool, but he could feel his body reacting, a growing tension building in ways that had nothing to do with the battle. He shifted awkwardly, trying to hide the very physical effect her attention was having on him. He hoped she didn't notice, but of course, for an experienced lady, a cougar, she did.

"You're blushing," she teased, her voice playful. "It's cute. I didn't think a man as strong as you could be so… shy."

"I'm not—" Purphoros began to protest, but he stopped himself. He didn't want to say anything that would make the situation worse. Instead, he focused on keeping his composure, though every word she spoke seemed to make that more difficult.

As they walked, she leaned a little closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I know you're a busy knight, but if you ever find yourself back in the village… maybe you could stop by for a visit? I am proud to say that I'm a great cook." She smiled sweetly, though the look in her eyes was anything but innocent.

Purphoros swallowed hard, trying to think of how to respond. His face was burning, and he could feel his pulse racing. He wasn't used to this kind of attention, especially not from someone as… forward as her. "I… uh… I'll think about it," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"B-But… The Madelaire is partially destroyed by the Beats" Purphoros fumbled over his words again, but this time there was genuine concern in his tone. "Will you be fine?" His voice was soft, unsure, but filled with worry.

Julian's expression faltered for a brief moment as her playful demeanor gave way to something more serious. Her smile softened, her gaze dropping slightly as she took a deep breath.

"I don't even know if my home survived. I've been so focused on the danger… on surviving… I hadn't even thought about what I'd be going back to." Her voice wavered slightly, but she quickly tried to brush it off, laughing nervously. "I guess it doesn't matter. I'm sure I'll figure something out."

She looked away, as if trying to distance herself from the sudden fear that her home, her life, might be in ruins. Despite her earlier bravado, there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, a vulnerability she hadn't shown before to this Hero of hers. 

She didn't want to be a burden, especially not to Purphoros.

Purphoros, seeing the shift in her expression, felt a pang of guilt. Here was this strong, confident woman who had just been flirting with him without feeling any embarrassment about all the eyes on them, and now the reality of the situation was hitting her hard. He couldn't just leave her like this.

"Oh, well…" she started, forcing a small smile, "I've managed before. I'll figure something out. I've rebuilt my small Inn 2 times already in my 34 years. You don't have to worry about me, Purphoros. You've already done more than enough by getting us here safely."

"I… I could help," he said quickly, surprising even himself with the words. He looked down at her, his gaze sincere. "I mean, with… the house. If your home's gone, I can help arrange something in Fullbaz. A small house, maybe? You wouldn't have to worry about it on your own."

The depth of his kindness caught her off guard, and for the first time, she saw beyond the awkward, towering warrior. Purphoros wasn't just a knight—he was kind, compassionate, and deeply earnest. Her heart skipped a beat at his offer.

"I… I don't know what to say," she stammered, her earlier confidence replaced by genuine emotion. "You really don't have to go that far, Purphoros. I wouldn't want to be a burden."

"You wouldn't be," he said quickly, his voice more sure now. "And… well, it's not right for you to be left without a home. I can help. I want to help."

Julian's teasing smile had faded, replaced by a look of gratitude and perhaps even affection. She reached out again, this time not to tease him, but to rest her hand on his arm gently.

"You really are a knight in shining armor," she said softly, her voice filled with emotion. "Thank you, Purphoros. I… I don't know what I would've done without you."

--

Odin with his keen senses involuntarily eavesdropped a bit on the two 'intimate' talk, and while at times he was rolling his eyes, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride in his chest? 

'This kid… He's hagmaxxing. Well, this also teaches him some responsibility and makes him grow, mature a bit. It's not a bad pick, she got all the assets to take control over the bed action.'

[Lucky brat.]

Entering Wesmar, Rohan and his guildmates handled the region of this village, which had increased in level since he last left them inside Fullbaz. 

He couldn't see the Soldier NPCs that he got found off such as Corporal Austen or Corporal Edvard, but he knew that deep down those NPCs wouldn't die against those Beasts after he assisted in pushing back the strongest wave of monsters.

Rohan, when he saw Odin wearing his Elven Mask while riding a black horse, quickly finished off one of the Dire Beasts to reach out the High-Ranker. The Elven Mask Odin wore only heightened his mystique, its elegant design concealing his features while giving him an air of untouchable power.

Inside his guild chat, everyone was excited to see Odin again, some of the boys even started simping hard for their 'Idol' since most of them became instant fans after the fanservice from three days ago. 

Some even boasted online with his calligraphic autograph and the pictures they had with him.

They told Rohan constant updates on Odin's increasing level since he was still registered on the Satisfy Rankings. From the pathetic ranking that was in the hundreds of millions as a level 6-10 player, he now reached the millions digits, but once he broke through the level 130-150, he would be ranked with the elites of Satisfy World.

The once chaotic and desperate fight for survival had now become a more organized resistance. 

The village, though still scarred from the battles, seemed to be holding its ground. Similarly, the fields outside the village, where the monsters had once rampaged freely, were now occupied by groups of players who had grown stronger, more confident in their abilities.

Rohan without hesitation sheathed his sword and jogged over to meet Odin. As Odin neared, he reined in his horse and gracefully dismounted, while his crimson eyes, barely visible beneath the mask, surveyed the village with a calm yet discerning gaze.

"Master Odin," Rohan greeted, his voice filled with a mixture of respect and gratitude. "It's good to see you again. I didn't expect to catch you here."

Odin, now standing beside his horse, offered a rare, slight nod in acknowledgment. "Rohan," he replied, his deep voice steady, "It seems you've been busy since our last encounter. How are things faring here?"

Rohan smiled, pride evident in his posture as he glanced back toward the village. 

"Thanks to your help during the siege, we've been able to hold our ground. After you helped push back the strongest wave, the Monster Wave has slowed down significantly." 

"We've been able to level up and strengthen our defenses. But, it couldn't have done it without you."

Odin's eyes briefly scanned the village as Rohan spoke. Though Wesmar still bore the marks of battle, it was clear that the situation had stabilized. 

The players were more coordinated, and the presence of Dire Beasts was now being handled with relative ease. Rohan and his guild had grown stronger, just as Odin had expected.

"You've done well," Odin said, his tone neutral but sincere. "It seems you've grown since we last met."

Rohan, clearly pleased with the compliment, chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, we've been grinding hard. Still a long way from your level though." 

He paused, his expression shifting to one of admiration. "Speaking of which… I heard you reached Level 101. That's… incredible. You're moving up the ranks like a supernova."

Odin's crimson eyes glowed faintly beneath the mask, though his expression remained calm. "It's just part of the game," he replied, his tone devoid of arrogance. "But it's good to see you're making progress as well. This village should be safe for now, but be prepared for any changes since I've killed a couple of Boss mobs. This might trigger a response from the Monsters."

Rohan nodded thoughtfully, understanding the underlying warning in Odin's words. "We won't. We're staying vigilant." Then, with a more casual tone, he added, "But seriously, thanks again, Odin. Not just for saving the village, but for helping us get a chance to level up and grow."

"We owe you."

Odin extended his hand toward Rohan, which had the young man's eyes widen slightly, but he quickly grasped Odin's hand, shaking it firmly.

"No need for thanks," Odin said as they released hands. "Just stay alive and kick some ass."

With that, Odin took one last glance at the village. His business here was done, and there were still places he needed to visit. He gave Rohan a final nod before turning back to his horse, mounting it in one fluid motion. The black mare snorted, eager to continue the journey.

Rohan watched as Odin began to ride away, his figure gradually blending into the twilight. 

"Good luck out there," Rohan called after him, though he knew Odin didn't need luck. 

He stood there for a moment, watching the High-Ranker disappear down the road, feeling awe and inspiration to be just like him.

As Odin advanced toward Ording and then Madelaire, the mood shifted once more. Some of the villagers they passed along the way had been fortunate; their homes still stood despite the devastation. 

However, fate had been less kind to others, like Julian, the Innkeeper of Madelaire. Her home, which she had rebuilt twice before, had not survived this time.

Odin watched from a distance, Julian's body trembled with sobs, her face buried against Purphoros' chest. Her rich brown curls, once vibrant and full of life, now seemed to dull in the dim light, weighed down by the crushing realization that her home, the inn she had rebuilt twice before, was nothing more than rubble.

"It's all gone... everything," 

"The inn... it's gone... I don't know how to start again. I don't know if I can."

Purphoros, though awkward and unsure in the face of her sorrow, held her firmly, his large hands resting gently on her back.

He wasn't good at this, words of comfort didn't come naturally to him, but he tried. "Shh… it's going to be okay, Julian. I… I promise. I'll help you rebuild… I'll do whatever I can. You're not alone in this."

Julian shook her head, her tears dampening the front of his tunic. "But I've lost it all, Purphoros. How can I start over again? Everything I worked for… everything my family left behind… it's all gone."

Odin observed from a distance as Julian, tears streaming down her face, clung to Purphoros. The usually shy and awkward knight embraced her tightly, his large arms wrapped protectively around her as he whispered soft reassurances. 

'They really do have emotions.'

[Of course, they have emotions. They are humans.]

'... Wasn't talking to you per se, Braham. Just reaffirming something to myself.'

The scene tugged at something deep within Odin, though he quickly pushed the thought aside. 

He was surprised to learn that Julian had been the innkeeper of the village, but he didn't dwell on it. What mattered now was that the villagers had reached safety, and Purphoros seemed to be handling the situation like a champ, and would for sure lay down that cougar.

Moving along, his eyes scanned the battlefield inside the Madelaire Farmlands, with indifference and mild amusement. These players were still struggling against the Wild Beasts and Dire Beasts that had respawned, hacking and slashing with all their might.

Their shouts and the clash of steel echoed through the air, but to Odin, it was nothing more than background noise.

These creatures no longer posed a challenge for him, and the thrill of one-shotting them had long since faded. He leaned forward slightly on his black mare, who snorted with impatience, as if eager to leave the scene behind.

At one point, a Dire Wolf respawned not far from the group of villagers trailing behind him. The beast's glowing red eyes locked onto the defenseless villagers, its powerful muscles tensing as it prepared to lunge. 

Odin didn't even bother to lift a hand, only muttering under his breath.

"Magic Missile."

A streak of glowing red light shot from his body, arcing through the air and striking the wolf squarely in the chest. The force of the impact was obliterating. 

[Critical Hit!] 

[You have dealt 11,317 damage to the target.]

[You have slain the 'Dire Beast (Normal)', gaining the following rewards: 325 EXP, Dire Beast's Fang (2x), Beast Hide (Common), Corrupted Beast Blood (2x), 2 Silver Coins]

The Dire Wolf disintegrated into nothing but ashes and a faint plume of smoke, not even leaving a trace of its previous form. 

The villagers gasped, murmurs of awe and disbelief rippling through the group, but Odin didn't acknowledge them, simply resumed his travel to Fullbaz.

By the time they neared the gates of Fullbaz City, the sun had fully set, and the sky was painted in deep shades of purple and blue. Only the distant flicker of city lights offered the lighthouse effect of steering them forward to safety. 

The city loomed ahead, and as they approached the gate, Odin's sharp gaze spotted the familiar figures of Captain Olaf and Guard Adelinn waiting.

Captain Olaf was a towering man, his frame broad and muscled, with a scar running down the side of his cheek, marking him as a veteran of many battles. He was a man of few words but immense presence. 

As Odin and the group drew closer, Olaf stepped forward with a nod, his stern face briefly softening in acknowledgment of Odin's success.

"Sir Odin," Olaf greeted him, his deep voice carrying a tone of respect. "Seems you've brought back more villagers. The Wyrnwoods haven't seen much peace since the wave began, yet you made it through unscathed."

'Those players are such blabbermouths. They really don't have to report much to the them.'

Odin swung down from his horse, his crimson eyes locking onto Olaf's as he nodded in response. "No threat worth mentioning," he replied coolly. "There's been plenty of goblins, trolls, ogres who got killed on my way. Oh, and some Hobgoblin Champion along with a Troll Shaman, in case you're reporting back to the Marquis."

"As for those villagers, just make sure they are taken care of at the refugee camp."

Olaf nodded, his expression grim. "You have my word." He motioned for several of the guards to assist the newly arrived villagers. 

Meanwhile, standing off to the side, Guard Adelinn, a young woman in her early twenties, fidgeted nervously. Her plate armor clinked as she shifted, her brown hair pulled back into a simple braid. She was pretty in an unassuming way, with a shy, almost timid air about her, like someone unused to the weight of her role as a city guard.

She glanced at Odin with wide eyes, her face flushed ever so slightly. As Odin turned to acknowledge her, their gazes met briefly, and she looked away almost immediately, the nervousness in her posture becoming more apparent. 

Odin raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure why she seemed so anxious. She wasn't the typical beauty from the grand capital cities, but there was a certain charm in her simplicity.

"Adelinn," Olaf's voice broke the moment. "Make sure the villagers are escorted to the inn. They need food and shelter after what they've been through."

Adelinn nodded quickly, her face reddening even more as she stole another glance at Odin. "Y-Yes, Captain!" she stammered before scurrying off to fulfill her duties. Odin watched her for a moment, bemused by her apparent nervousness, then turned back to Olaf.

"Anything else I need to know? Maybe related to the Marquis?" Odin asked, his voice calm but with a slight edge of impatience.

"Nothing new related to the monster wave. It seems to be slowing down, but the beasts are still out there, and some of them are getting bolder. Just be on your guard."

As the guards moved to assist, Olaf spoke again, his tone slightly more formal. "While for the Marquis… Your efforts haven't gone unnoticed, Sir Odin. Word of your actions has spread. They're calling you the 'Red-Eyed Knight' among the commoners, a hero of sorts, which isn't wrong considering that the Goddess has summoned you to come into our aid."

"Even the Marquis has heard the tales. He has expressed an interest in meeting you personally."

Odin raised an eyebrow, his expression showing a hint of amusement. "The 'Red-Eyed Knight', huh? I like that one." he muttered, almost to himself. Then, louder, "If the Marquis wants to send an invitation for a banquet or meeting, he knows where to find me. I'll be at the Serpent's Fang Tavern for the next few days."

Captain Olaf gave a curt nod. "I'll relay the message."

Odin nodded once, showing no sign of concern. "If there's anything that needs my attention, you know where I'll be."

With that, Odin mounted his horse again, ready to lead his party into the city. As they moved past the gates, the sounds of city life grew louder, the bustling of vendors, the clatter of hooves on cobblestones, the distant murmur of tavern laughter, players trying to hassle with the NPCs. 

It was a stark contrast to the wilderness they had just left behind.

Turning to his party members, Odin spoke in his usual calm, authoritative voice. "You're all free for the evening," he said. "Handle whatever business you need to in the city. Purphoros, make sure to get protection."

"Elyse, Malfurion, you can do as you like, but don't get into trouble with the City Guard."

Purphoros, standing a bit awkwardly next to Julian, nearly choked on his response.

Purphoros blinked, clearly flustered as he caught the subtle, yet unmistakable, meaning in Odin's remark. His face turned a shade darker as he stammered out, "Y-Yeah, I'll make sure to… uh… be careful." 

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, but his ears were burning with embarrassment. Julian, still quietly recovering from the trauma of the monster attacks, seemed oblivious to the exchange, but Purphoros' discomfort was almost palpable.

Elyse, on the other hand, couldn't contain her laughter. She winked at Odin, clearly enjoying the banter as she stretched lazily, already scouting the streets with curiosity. "I might just visit a few shops, see if anything interesting comes in from the traders. Maybe a new staff or trinket. Or I'll visit our new Alchemist to give him some orders for Mana Potions."

Malfurion, ever the stoic, raised an eyebrow at Elyse's antics but remained focused. He adjusted his robes, his expression serious as he weighed Odin's words. "I'll be around the Auction House."

Purphoros, still recovering from the earlier comment, turned back to Julian with a soft smile, trying to shake off his awkwardness. "Let's get you settled at the inn," he said gently, and Julian, still leaning on him for support, nodded gratefully.

As the group began to disperse, Elyse whispered to Malfurion, "Ten gold says Purphoros chickens out." Malfurion simply smirked, shaking his head at her, while the evening city lights flickered above them, welcoming the night.

After settling down with the villagers with the City Guards, he himself returned to The Serpent's Fang Tavern where he bought a room for a couple of days of his stay in Fullbaz City.

The tavern had a cozy, old-world charm. The flicker of candlelight danced across the wooden beams of the ceiling, casting soft shadows that seemed to sway with the rhythm of the lute being played in the corner. 

A bard sat near the fireplace, strumming the instrument with skillful fingers, offering a melody that felt as if it had been plucked straight from the heart of some ancient ballad. The warmth from the crackling hearth fire filled the space, the orange flames licking the air, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

The melody was calming, a slow, soothing tune that added to the peaceful yet lively ambiance of the room.

The scent of roasting meat, be it chicken, pork, or beef, mixed with the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from the kitchen. It was almost impossible to ignore, tempting even those who had no need to eat within the game. Some players chuckled at how immersive the experience was, remarking that the smell made them hungry in real life. 

Occasionally, a sharp burst of laughter or the clinking of mugs interrupted the steady rhythm of the tavern's hum, but it all added to the sense of comfort and familiarity. This was a place where people came to unwind after a long day, whether they were NPCs or players.

As Odin stepped inside, his crimson eyes faintly glowing under the dim light, heads turned briefly. By now, the whole population of players, excluding some clueless newbies, knew that Odin was inside Fullbaz City participating in the Monster Wave event, and was so far the MVP since the High-Rankers in the city didn't bother with low-level mobs that were ravaging the villages.

Who didn't know him by now? 

The 'Red-Eyed Knight' had become a legend among the common folk and players alike, and his imposing presence, even with his Elven Mask still in place, caused a slight ripple in the room. 

Taking off his mask, he got a lot of gasps from the female players, while some of the NPCs gave respectful nods. Others simply glanced and returned to their drinks.

The innkeeper, a burly man with a balding head and a thick apron stained with the remnants of the night's cooking, spotted Odin and immediately perked up. "Ah, Sir Odin!" he called out warmly, his voice carrying over the quiet din. "Welcome back to the Serpent's Fang. How should we be of service this fine evening?"

Odin glanced around the room, noting the peaceful yet lively atmosphere before turning back to the innkeeper. "A draft of dwarven mead," he began, his tone as calm and measured as ever, "and the best beef you've got with mashed potatoes. After that, have a hot bath prepared for me in my room. No need to send the Maids."

The innkeeper motioned for a barmaid to start working on Odin's request, treating him like the VIP he had become in their establishment. 

As Odin made his way to his usual spot by the fire, the soft crackling of flames and the calm hum of the tavern filled the air, offering a brief but welcome reprieve from the battles that lay outside the city walls.

The warmth of the flames dancing on his face as the barmaid brought over his order, a steaming tankard of dwarven mead and a plate with a perfectly seared cut of beef, accompanied by fluffy mashed potatoes drizzled with rich gravy. 

'Hahh, this is life, man.'

The smell of the food was intoxicating, even for someone like Odin who didn't always need to eat in-game, and the hearty fare reminded him of the old days when he'd spend hours immersed in the lore and culture of the Satisfy World.

He lifted the tankard, taking a deep sip of the dwarven mead. The robust flavor hit his tongue with a pleasant warmth, and he couldn't help but let out a small sigh of satisfaction. 

'Dwarves are the best when it comes to alcohol.'

[Bah, your taste buds are dull, boy. You should try some of my collection of wines, aged for half a millennium.] 

Odin nearly choked on his drink, rolling his eyes at the intrusive remark. Of course, the Great Magician Braham couldn't let him enjoy anything without offering his own high-and-mighty commentary. 

Odin leaned back in his chair, glancing at the tankard in his hand, before silently replying to the voice in his head.

'That's another ignorant remark, Braham. Sometimes, it is good to dull down your taste buds so when you eat delicious food, then it's ingrained in your mind. Besides, you'd think dwarven mead was beneath your refined taste.'

There was a brief pause as if Braham considered his following words carefully, but Odin already knew what to expect from the wizard, predicting his snarky, pompous response.

[Refined taste? Hmph, this 'dwarven swill' you so pathetically praise is nothing compared to the wonders of my cellar. I have wines that would make gods weep, aged in the depths of the Crimson Tomb, where only the finest grapes, nurtured by blood-rich soil, were used.]

[My Nocturna's Requiem, a dark wine brewed with the essence of twilight and nightshade, has aged for centuries. It holds the very power of the night itself.]

Odin couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head at Braham's flair for dramatics.

'Nocturna's Requiem, huh? Too much Mozart for you, mister. Sounds like something that might kill me faster than any monster out there.'

Braham huffed indignantly. [You simpletons can never appreciate the finer things. A single sip would elevate your understanding of life itself. But, of course, your human palate would be wasted on such a masterpiece. Perhaps when you've attained even a fraction of my power, you might be worthy.]

Odin raised his tankard in mock salute. 'I'll be sure to remind you of that next time I'm fighting off trolls and ogres. Maybe a sip of your precious wine will make them bow at my feet.'

The mage's voice responded with a dry scoff. [You mock me now, but one day, you'll come crawling, begging for a taste. Then, perhaps, I'll show mercy and share.]

Odin's grin widened as he imagined Braham sitting in some ancient, decrepit library, surrounded by dusty tomes and hoarding his collection of rare wines like they were relics of the gods. 

He could picture the vampire-turned-archmage swirling a glass of dark crimson liquid, all while lecturing some poor soul about their inferiority in both magic and taste.

'I'll look forward to that day,' Odin said, still amused. 'In the meantime, I'll make do with this 'dwarven swill.' It's good enough for a 'simpleton' like me.'

Braham's silence was almost palpable, as if he were scowling in Odin's mind, though he knew it was all in good humor. Despite Braham's arrogance, Odin appreciated the mage's knowledge and power. Their relationship had started with the right step, with both showing some mutual respect—albeit wrapped in layers of sarcasm and condescension.

After a moment, Braham finally spoke again, his tone softer, though still carrying that characteristic edge. [Enjoy your rest, Odin. But do not grow too comfortable. The world does not wait for those who linger.]

Odin nodded to himself, the weight of Braham's words settling in. 'I know, don't worry, I'll pick some more pavranium and turn them into the Vessel of the Soul for you.'

The weight of the day's battles, the strain of commanding and protecting, momentarily faded in the comforting hum of the tavern. The air around him seemed lighter, filled with a casual energy that came from people relaxing after a long day.

The lively tavern had now turned its attention to him. Players and NPCs alike raised their mugs and tankards, the sound of clinking glasses echoing through the room as they toasted in his honor. Some of the more seasoned players wore proud smiles, while the newer ones stared in awe at the legend that sat before them—the Red-Eyed Knight, Odin.

"To Odin!" one of the players shouted, standing up and raising his drink high. The room erupted into a chorus of cheers, the energy infectious.

"To the savior of Fullbaz City!" another added, slapping his friend on the back as they both laughed.

A group of NPC guards at a nearby table joined in, nodding respectfully in Odin's direction. "May the Goddess bless your strength, Sir Odin," one of them called out, his gruff voice carrying a tone of deep admiration.

Odin, ever composed, merely gave a small nod in acknowledgment, his crimson eyes reflecting the firelight. He wasn't one to revel in praise, but he couldn't deny that the respect of the people was a valuable asset. These were the people he fought for, whether they were players or the game's well-crafted NPCs.

He took another bite of the tender beef, savoring the rich flavor as the soft chatter of the tavern continued to surround him. Every now and then, he caught snippets of conversations, with players discussing strategy for their future encounters, NPCs recounting the monster attacks. 

As the night wore on, and his plate was emptied, Odin rose from his seat, feeling the weight of the day begin to settle in his bones. The innkeeper, ever attentive, noticed and hurried over.

"Your room is ready, Sir Odin," the innkeeper said with a respectful bow. "A bath has been prepared, just as you requested."

Odin nodded, his voice quiet but firm. "Thank you. I'll take my leave for the night."