"Coming to Sheep Horn Town was my decision."
"Since I brought you all to this place, naturally, we should return together."
After speaking, without waiting for a response, his gaze fell sincerely upon Xia Nan and the other two at the table.
"Everyone, the situation has changed. I lack the authority to demand anything of you, but... at the very least, for the sake of gold coins, if anything truly happens in Sheep Horn Town, please try to inform . That way, we can make so preparations in advance."
Horak clearly knew that at such tis, he needed to rely even more on the professionals in the team. He maintained a humble attitude, not exerting undue pressure despite being the employer.
In such circumstances, not only Margaret and Soldin, who were responsible for escorting the employer, but even Xia Nan, who was rely hitching a ride, didn’t mind lending a hand where possible.
At the dining table, the group didn’t discuss for too long.
A’Fu, bearing the heaviest responsibilities and most tasks as the caravan steward, hastily stuffed a few bites into his mouth before leaving quickly to attend to his duties.
Xia Nan planned to take a stroll around the town like he did in the morning to see if he could uncover anything.
With his extraordinary perception ability, he naturally needed to make full use of his advantage by walking around the town and chatting more with the residents, hoping to gather so useful information.
Upon learning of the strange occurrences in Sheep Horn Town from Xia Nan, the two mbers of the Black Wood Squad naturally couldn’t remain indifferent.
Margaret planned to accompany Xia Nan into town to gather intelligence. As the captain of an adventurer team, with years of experience, she practically grew up in the chaotic environnt of taverns, interacting with everyone from kingdom nobles to roadside beggars. Her conversational skills might not be exceptional, but at least they wouldn’t let a conversation die like Xia Nan’s.
She made up for his last shortcoming.
anwhile, Dwarf Soldin was left at the inn to protect Horak.
...
...
In the morning, the warm sunlight fell upon the bustling street, a gentle breeze carrying the noise across their cheeks.
Her tan skin glead healthily under the sunlight, her dark gold braid swaying gently with her movents.
Margaret’s hand rested on the hilt of her sword, her swordsman’s sharp gaze scanning the crowd around her.
But her peripheral vision instinctively fell upon the deep, dark silhouette ahead of her.
It had been years since she took over as the captain of the Black Wood Squad from her father. Now that she had voluntarily handed over the lead, she felt slightly uneasy, even overly imrsed.
As if she were just an ordinary adventurer team mber, once they left the inn, she didn’t even ask where they were going or whom they should inquire for information, rely following the young man who had once saved the Black Wood Squad, remarkable in strength yet extrely young.
As for Xia Nan... he had his own destination.
It wasn’t the bustling trade street crowded with vendors and shops, nor the station perpetually filled with porters and well-inford sources.
He was headed toward the outskirts of the town.
About twenty minutes passed.
As the pedestrians grew sparser and the buildings less dense along the street, they could faintly see the expansive fields of the plains beyond.
A small orange grove ca into their view.
Weathered low stone walls enclosed the sides, the air imbued with a crisp fragrance of slightly bitter orange leaves and sweet fruit.
Not particularly tall, the orange trees were ticulously aligned, allowing a clear view of the low wall at the grove’s end; each tree had been carefully pruned, lush but not chaotic.
Their deep green leaves were sturdy, with a surface like it had been coated with wax; sunlight filtered through the branches, casting faint halos; the branches bowed under the weight of the orange-red fruits, looking like round lanterns, stark against the leaves.
This orange grove was sothing Xia Nan discovered during his morning exercise. Noticing the recent signs of human pruning on the trees, he had kept it in mind.
Recalling what he had learned from the tavern owner about Sheep Horn Town’s honey mandarins being a local specialty, stocked by various shops, with widespread distribution.
He thought that if he wanted to gather information, those managing this orange grove might be worth talking to.
So now he decided to try his luck to see if he could uncover anything.
They weren’t disappointed.
Unlike the silent stillness early that morning, no sooner had they entered the grove than they heard the crisp sound of scissors snipping.
Following the direction of the sound, they saw a young woman in her early twenties, simply dressed, standing on tiptoe, busy under a lush orange tree.
A faded dark blue kerchief wrapped around her head, a few strands of deep brown hair damp with sweat clung to her forehead and temples; her cheeks were healthily flushed, her skin wasn’t fair, yet it bore the earthy, hard-earned glow from labor.
Wearing an old dress sewn from coarse linen, the girl was wholly absorbed in her task, with a small basket for tools slung on her left arm; her right hand, callused fingers gripping the scissors with precision and deftness, snipped away dry or overly crowded twigs in smooth, practiced motions as if perford a thousand tis before.
Hearing footsteps behind her, the girl hastily turned her head holding the scissors.
Her gaze swept over their armor and equipnt instinctively stepping back two paces, sweat-soaked face showing a hint of panic and fear.
"Don’t be afraid." Margaret stepped forward, smiling warmly, her tone gentle. "We’re just passing through, with no ill intentions."
"Is this your family’s orange grove? It’s very well kept, no wonder the sugar mandarins here are so delicious."
At her words, a shy smile appeared on the girl’s face.
"Good day, adventurers." She awkwardly greeted them with a slight bow before turning around and taking so oranges from the basket by her feet, wiping them with her dress before offering them with both hands. "Would you like to taste this year’s honey mandarins?"
Xia Nan nodded slightly, accepting the oranges. Without saying anything, he cast a glance at Margaret beside him, signaling her to continue.
As for the information they sought, he’d already explained it with his partner back in the Rusty Nail Tavern, so there was no need to repeat it now.
Understanding his silent cue, Margaret kindly brushed a fallen leaf off the girl’s shoulder, quickly becoming friendly, and naturally steering the conversation toward the town and its revered priest.
The young girl from the orange grove, with little life experience, was almost entirely unguarded against the female knight’s amiable deanor.
rely ntioning the na "Mo’en" brightened her eyes with genuine reverence.
"Are you referring to Grandpa Moen?" Her clear and vibrant voice bore imnse respect. "He’s the great Grain Goddess’ envoy to protect us."
"Since I can rember, Grandpa Moen has been the priest at the church; many in town, even those aunts and uncles, were almost entirely watched over by him as they grew up."
"Without him, there would be no orange grove for our family, perhaps... not even ."
The girl’s clear eyes shone with a hint of mory.
Turning her head slightly, her gaze drifted toward the thickest, most bountiful orange tree in the center of the grove.
"It was when I was little, probably five or six. That year, our orchard had a poor harvest, and the winter was exceedingly cold, with snow so deep it blocked the doors. I had a high fever, they said my forehead felt like burning coal, even the town’s herbal granny shook her head."
The girl paused, her eyes distant as if drifting back to that faraway cold, snowy night.
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