Chapter 103: Enough Awareness
Shelly recalled the barbarian priest he had encountered a few times before.
The priest’s alternating states of madness and clarity had unsettled even Shelly, a wizard apprentice.
Perhaps the priest’s sanity was on the verge of collapse, and he was using the Grinding Sound Fruits to stabilize himself.
“You don’t need to know that. In the wizarding world, the more an ordinary person knows, the sooner they die.”
“Yes, yes.” Although his curiosity remained unsatisfied, Ruper didn’t dare to press further.
At that moment, a soldier arrived carrying five Grinding Sound Fruits. Shelly gestured for the soldier to place them on the ground and waved him away.
As Ruper left, he heard Shelly’s anxious urging again.
“Hurry up and find a girl, a clean one. Deliver her before morning!”
“Yes, yes!” Ruper repeatedly bowed, then reached out to close the door.
When he turned around, he saw the soldier who had brought the fruits standing stiffly at the staircase entrance, keeping his head low, staring at his own feet, not daring to glance around.
Only Ruper’s most trusted men were allowed here.
Ruper walked over and patted the soldier on the shoulder. “It’s nothing. This place just looks a bit scary at first. You’ll get used to it.”
The soldier forced a stiff, ugly smile.
He had also participated in modifying the tower, merging the first and second floors into a single open space, leaving only a wooden staircase spiraling along the walls.
The two descended the stairs, one after the other. The surrounding walls were adorned with grotesque faces.
If the soldier had dared to look closely, he might have recognized familiar features among them.
Even though Ruper had just reassured the soldier, he too avoided looking at the wall murals as they descended.
He had a nagging feeling that staring at them for too long would lead to something very bad happening.
---
While the first-level wizard apprentice in Grindstone Town was scheming to advance in rank and break free from the barbarians’ exploitation, their intended targets—the barbarians—were receiving an unexpected visitor that night.
These barbarians, who roamed the borderlands between the Kemar and Kenas principalities, were deep in slumber.
Some leaned against rocks, while others simply lay on the ground.
No one lit campfires, and no one stood watch.
If someone attacked at night?
They’d just wake up and fight.
At the center of their camp stood a slanted, haphazardly assembled tent.
Around the tent, several bodies were impaled on wooden stakes, nailed into the ground.
The bodies had been crudely split open, with each person’s remains skewered onto a single stake, one half facing up, the other down.
This was their unique sacrificial ritual.
Just then, a pair of feet softly landed outside the tent. Yet none of the sleeping barbarians stirred.
The figure materialized in the darkness, stepping past the impaled corpses with a look of distaste before lifting the tent flap and walking inside.
Inside the tent, the barbarian chieftain, who had been meditating, abruptly opened his eyes and assumed a defensive stance.
However, upon recognizing the visitor, he relaxed and sat back down.
“You arrive… earlier than expected. I do not… have the fruits yet.” The barbarian priest spoke in broken Common Tongue.
The visitor looked down at him and spoke bluntly, “The wizard Kira from Kemar has advanced to the second rank. She plans to personally clear out the bandits on Kemar’s borders. Your tribe is also on her list.”
The barbarian priest’s face was painted with black and red symbols, obscuring his expression, but the tension in his muscles betrayed his unrest.
“Second-rank wizard… we must leave.” The priest was one of the few barbarians who still retained some semblance of reason.
“Migration requires food,” the priest stated, looking up at the wizard.
“That’s your problem to solve,” the wizard sneered, turning to leave.
After a few steps, he stopped and added, “Oh, and wipe out Grindstone Town.”
The priest looked puzzled. “Your wizard tower… doesn’t want the fruits?”
The wizard half-turned his head, his voice cold. “Just do as you’re told.”
The barbarian priest didn’t seem to grasp the wizard’s veiled threat and simply acknowledged, “Yes, Lord Beale.”
“Hmph, trying to threaten me?” Wizard Beale scoffed and exited the tent.
Once the wizard was gone, the barbarian priest pushed himself up using one hand.
He grabbed the wooden staff propped nearby, bit his finger, and smeared the blood on the staff’s tip.
The staff’s tip already bore several dried bloodstains, each vivid and distinct.
“The Great Chieftain is with us.”
The priest struck the ground with his staff, sending an invisible ripple outward.
Outside the tent, the sleeping barbarians stirred, shaking their heads as they stood.
The priest emerged from the tent, raising his hands high, staff held horizontally.
“Migration!”
“Roar!”
“Slaughter!!”
“Roar!!”
“Roar! Roar!!”
If the first command had merely prompted a response, the second was met with fervent enthusiasm.
Satisfied by the tribe’s warlike spirit, the priest nodded.
He scanned the surroundings, taking a moment to orient himself.
“Grindstone Town… this time, kill them all!”
“Roar!”
“Roar!”
“Roar! Roar!!”
---
At around five in the morning.
The sky was barely light, the surroundings still shrouded in dimness.
Inside the house, Saul, lost in meditation, suddenly sensed someone approaching and opened his eyes.
Almost immediately, there was a violent pounding at the courtyard gate.
No matter where one slept, waking up, getting dressed, and answering the door all took time.
But the people outside weren’t willing to wait even that long.
BAM!
With a loud crash, the courtyard gate was forced open.
Ada, rubbing his eyes, stumbled out of bed.
“Who the hell is—wait, the door?!?”
In disbelief, he rushed outside, only to see a group of men storming into the courtyard, heading straight for his house.
Leading them was Jeff, the captain of the town’s guards.
A flurry of fears rushed through Ada’s mind, but he refused to acknowledge them.
“Maybe it’s something else. Maybe they’re here for me,” he prayed.
But things always take a turn for the worst.
Captain Jeff stopped in front of Ada, his cold, expressionless face showing no sympathy. His voice was equally emotionless as he delivered the devastating news.
“Ada, your sister Penny has been chosen as the sacrifice for the Grinding Sound Fruits. We are here to take her.”
Saul, still seated on the table, furrowed his brows and turned toward the large wooden cabinet.
The cabinet door creaked open slightly, revealing Penny’s small, bewildered face.
Outside, Ada stood frozen in disbelief.
He grabbed Jeff’s arm, his voice trembling. “Captain Jeff, but—but they just picked someone yesterday! Why Penny today?”
Desperately, Ada searched for any reason that might spare Penny.
“She’s blind! And she’s only seven! She’s too young! There are so many other girls in town—why her?”
Jeff remained silent, simply staring at Ada.
Could he say that the town had run out of suitable candidates?
Under the mayor’s strict orders, Jeff had remembered Penny—the poor girl who almost never left her house.
Ada, in his naive hope, had assumed Penny’s blindness would exclude her.
But the truth was, the wizards never cared about appearances.
“Ada,” Jeff finally spoke, his voice heavy. “You’ve lived in this town for four years. We’ve sheltered you, fed you, kept you safe from the hardships of wandering. Now, it’s time for you to give back.
“The Grinding Sound Fruits are in short supply. We must make another sacrifice.
“I hope you have enough awareness not to make this difficult for me.”
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