eeper into the cave, he found a cage holding numerous human captives—emaciated and starving. Freeing them, he shared his provisions, aiding their recovery.

Despite the captives' frail conditions, one man—the healthiest among them, heavily scarred and muscular—identified himself as a former soldier. Grateful and desperate, he pleaded, "We were taken from a nearby trading caravan. These Ogres captured us while we were camping. We've been starved for a week and countless have been eaten. Can you escort us to safety?”

“Of course,” Brutols assured, patting his chest confidently. He smiled, promising, “I will get you to the nearest town safely. Rest assured, you will not suffer any further harm.” His genuine reassurance and radiant smile almost moved the captives to tears. Under Brutols' guidance, they reached the foot of the mountain and then took a shortcut to their home town safely.

Chapter 5: The Conspiracy of the Undead (1)

Brutols escorted the rescued villagers and soldiers back to the town. The townspeople were astonished; they had believed these individuals were long dead. Their safe return seemed like a miracle one could only attribute to a divine being, but no god had had any hand in it. The sole creator of this miracle was Brutols. Without his help, they would have likely ended up as food for the Ogres. Despite having saved them, Brutols sought no reward. Upon reaching the town's castle, the lord offered him a thousand gold coins as a token of gratitude. However, Brutols declined the reward, finding it too cumbersome to carry.

Although the town lord didn't appreciate his refusal, especially since his orders had never been rejected before, he understood. Brutols was no ordinary person; he was an Ogre-slaying hero. Therefore, the lord simply thanked Brutols and requested he take a brief rest in the town. Brutols, though reluctant to stay long, knew he needed rest after the battle with the Ogres. So, he agreed but planned to resume his journey soon, knowing the northern battles required his aid.

The town was prosperous, with bustling trade and flourishing agriculture supported by surrounding villages and farms. However, acquiring rare items here was challenging due to the lack of advanced structures like the magic tower Brutols had first encountered. The town had only a dilapidated chapel, rumored to be haunted by wailing spirits, scaring children into sleepless nights. Brutols, however, dismissed these superstitions. Even if ghosts existed, his fire abilities would undoubtedly reduce them to ashes.

Brutols settled into a three-story inn arranged by the town lord. The inn was lively during the day and even more so at night. While the first floor buzzed with drinkers, others lounged on the railings of the second and third floors. Brutols, pre

 Prev. P 18/103 next