Catching his breath, Garrett casually picked up one of the sausages that had been roasting by the campfire. It was cooked to perfection.
After a few bites, his HP was fully restored. Broken ribs nded themselves with unnatural ease, wounds sealed rapidly, and his pale complexion gradually returned to a healthy color.
[20/20]
He suddenly felt his entire body relax. Only then did he notice the newly unlocked Title System. At this mont, the title interface contained just one entry: "Wight Slayer," sitting there in solitary glory.
When Garrett focused on it, an "Equip" option appeared.
---
[After equipping a title, certain supernatural beings and particularly perceptive individuals may be able to discern your deeds through observation. Additionally, word of your relevant achievents will spread more readily, this is undeniable proof of your actions.]
---
Hmm... it really is just a title, with no actual stat bonuses or special abilities.
Well, not too shabby either.
Without overthinking it, he equipped the title and then examined the nearby corpse of the barrow-wight. With the malevolent spirit that had animated it now banished, it was nothing more than a desiccated, twisted corpse. Still, this had to count as so kind of elite monster, right? It wouldn't be proper if it didn't drop so loot.
Ti for the best part: searching the remains.
Clatter.
The body was carefully turned over. Under the moonlight, quite a few glittering objects could be seen. It was clear this person had been from a wealthy family in life, jewelry and ornants adorned the entire form.
"Evil has been banished. Rest in peace," he murmured softly.
Without the slightest guilt, he gathered up all the jewelry from the corpse and placed it into his inventory.
His first treasure haul in Middle-earth.
The jewelry appeared to be in decent condition, probably worth a fair sum. He'd store them for now, and co daylight, lay them out in the sunlight to cleanse any lingering curses. That thod had been ntioned in the stories, so it should prove effective.
After collecting the jewelry, he looked at the sword lying nearby. As he picked it up, a description appeared:
[Barrow-blade: Attack Power 4]
No additional information.
"Wait, seriously? That's it?"
This was a drop from an elite monster, yet it had the sa attack power as a wooden sword?
Keep in mind, when the wight was wielding it, the blade definitely hit harder than just 4 points of damage, and it even inflicted that withering curse. So the "cursed weapon" got purified and weakened, eh?
He could only assu the barrow-wight had its own supernatural enhancents that boosted the blade's power. Slightly disappointed, he still tucked the sword into his inventory. At least it was genuine steel. Plenty of space, he'd keep it as a nto. All in all, not a bad haul from his first real battle.
After gathering his belongings, he quickly extinguished the campfire and set off under the moonlight. If barrow-wights were appearing right beside the main road, it clearly wasn't safe to linger in this area. On second thought, it could have just been that his tree-chopping had been too loud, or the campfire too bright, and happened to attract a nearby wight.
Whoosh.
A lone figure moved swiftly along the road through the night.
---
Dawn turned to day.
It wasn't until the sky brightened with morning light that Garrett suddenly ca to a halt, climbed a small rise in a few quick steps, and gazed into the distance. On the horizon, a town was clearly visible. Even though he had never been there before, the na imdiately ca to mind: Bree.
"Finally..."
He felt a surge of anticipation.
At last, he would et other n again. But before that... He descended the hill and pulled out the pile of jewelry from his inventory, laying it out in the sunlight.
In no ti, wisps of dark mist began to evaporate from the ornants. The tarnished gemstones gradually regained their luster. The curses were being lifted.
Once he confird nothing sinister remained, he packed everything back up and continued on his way. It wasn't until what would normally be considered late morning that he finally arrived at the large wooden gate and was questioned by a guard.
This was his first ti seeing another human being in this world.
---
"State your business, stranger."
"Just a traveling adventurer."
"Adventurer?"
Through the small viewing slot in the gate, a face studied Garrett with curiosity, particularly giving his clothing several long looks.
"Strange garb you're wearing... but we don't turn away honest folk here in Bree."
The slot snapped shut, and footsteps moved away. Just as Garrett was about to say sothing else, the gate suddenly creaked open.
"Welco to Bree."
Garrett nodded politely in response. He also took a quick glance at the space above the guard's head.
20 HP, sa as himself.
A proper human being.
"By the way, I'd like to ask where The Prancing Pony is. I heard it's pretty good."
"That way, straight down the main road," the guard pointed.
"Thanks."
The walk didn't take long, or at least, compared to the distances Garrett had been covering these past few days, it felt quite short.
Soon, a building with a distinctive sign ca into view. The wooden sign bore a carving of a pony rearing on its hind legs, hence the na "The Prancing Pony."
The inn had been run for generations by the Butterbur family. Business here seed to be thriving. Even in the middle of the morning, quite a few patrons had gathered inside.
Ignoring the curious stares, he headed straight to the counter upon entering.
"Good morning, sir. How may I be of service?"
"I need a place to rest, and so food."
After speaking, he glanced down at his clothes. His modern outfit really did stand out terribly here.
"If possible... could you also arrange for so proper clothing? Sothing more... local?"
The innkeeper hesitated. After all, acting as a tailor wasn't part of the inn's normal services. But sothing about this strangely dressed and rather unusual guest made him feel the man had accomplished sothing noteworthy.
After just a brief pause, he responded carefully, "It's possible, sir, but... it depends on what you're prepared to pay. This isn't among our usual offerings, you understand..."
Clink.
A coin, ancient in design, landed on the counter with a clear ring, drawing several glances from nearby patrons.
"Will this do?"
The innkeeper gently picked up the antique coin, eyes widening in surprise.
"Forgive , sir. I cannot appraise its value properly myself. Please wait, I'll fetch Mister Butterbur."
Soon, a stout middle-aged man hurried over. He glanced at Garrett, then at the coin on the counter. And then he couldn't look away.
"Beautiful... absolutely beautiful."
The innkeeper murmured, "Though it's but a silver piece, the age of it, and this craftsmanship, likely a lost art... Sir, are you certain you wish to part with this?"
The coin's material wasn't particularly rare, but its age, historical significance, and exquisite workmanship gave it considerable value, so collectors would pay handsoly for such a piece.
"Yes," Garrett replied.
"Very well then."
Butterbur said, "The finest room we have, the best food and ale in Bree, and the quality cloth this town can offer, I promise you, everything will be of the highest standard. Please, take your ease. I'll see everything is prepared."
He estimated Garrett's asurents by eye and asked a few questions about style preferences before bustling off.
Not long after, a serving girl returned with a large tray: roasted ats, hearty stews, which were the inn's signature dishes, then so fresh bread, cheese, and a tankard of The Prancing Pony's famous ale, its foam nearly spilling over the rim. Just one sip revealed a rich, malty flavor with hints of honey.
Garrett ate with gusto, his hunger bar instantly filled to maximum.
After draining the ale in one long draught, he also gained a temporary "Tipsy" status effect that lasted several seconds, causing mild lightheadedness. Taking advantage of the brief duration, he made his way to his room, closed the door, and settled onto the unfamiliar yet comfortable bed. Even though food alone kept his body from feeling fatigue and his mind from growing weary, out of long habit, and with little else to occupy his ti, he decided to rest for a while.
Lying down was simply more comfortable than standing around. He hadn't been resting long when a gentle knock sounded at the door.
He imdiately sat up.
"Who's there?"
"Begging your pardon, sir. It's Nob, I've brought your new clothes."
Click.
The door opened. Garrett accepted the garnts.
"Sir, please try them on to see if they fit properly. If you're not satisfied, we can make adjustnts." With that, the servant departed.
Garrett closed the door.
A few minutes later, he had changed into the new outfit and examined himself.
Not bad at all. Aside from his slightly softer features and coal-black hair, he looked just like any other Man of Bree. He would blend in perfectly now.
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