Pillar of Yita

Fang Hong gently nodded and thanked the other party.

...

In the summer, when the wind blew through this Forest, the Forest would respond with a rustling whisper.

But in winter, the leaves had long since fallen, leaving only a barren and unsightly tangle of branches from afar. The North Wind howled past, rustling fiercely, like a wounded beast roaming the wilderness, its lingering howl refusing to fade. Sometimes the sound of the wind and the wolves’ procession mingled together, drowning out the long howls, evoking a sense of Solitude.

Yet the flames in the hearth were blazing, the firewood bursting with astonishing heat, sparking through the iron bars, a few sparks bouncing onto the stones. The golden light in the hall set a warm tone, and the sizzling roasted venison on the tray added to it. In this weather, there weren’t many willing to go out, so the inn’s hall was bustling with Adventurers gathered around tables, discussing major events from the past few weeks.

Until a Traveler walking through wind and snow pushed the door open, cold air billowed in with snowflakes, and Walnut quickly closed the door, took off his cloak, and shook off the snowflakes. He then turned back to remove Beiji’s cloak and helped her shake off the snow before folding it neatly.

The girl looked at him with bright eyes, silently saying nothing, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Titanium Pea and a few others watched this scene and couldn’t help but find the pair amusing. He whispered to another person, while the chubby Zaozi had already stepped forward to book rooms and dinner with the innkeeper.

Walnut led Beiji to an empty spot, first pulling out a chair for her to sit, then went to the other side. Although he knew it was almost impossible for people from the House of Art to chase them here, he still observed his surroundings. Not far away at another table sat a middle-aged man drinking alone, dressed in a velvet gown with deep blue patterns, his hat hung beside him, his meticulously combed hair neat, but lacking a staff or any object that might indicate a Spellcaster.

On his table lay a pair of mink gloves, carefully folded, and his hands were pale and slender, with nearly visible blue veins on the back, showing well-maintained skin—clearly a person of Noble standing. In front of him sat only two plates, without the large quantities of meat others had, but the dishes were very exquisite—with a glass of wine served in a goblet, the rim reflecting the flickering firelight, shimmering brightly.

Adventurers like this were rarely seen by Walnut.

The man seemed out of place here, more like a refined Noble. But what would someone of such status be doing in a rural inn? Natives and unrefined Invokers were different.

Yet, he dared not look more, lest he cause trouble, and pulled out a chair to sit down. Across from him sat all Invokers, a few robust melee War Professions, along with a Magic Guided Conductor and a Healer, both women, who looked at their companions with furrowed brows.

Just then, Zaozi returned from the innkeeper, whispering to the others how much he’d spent. At that moment, the door of the inn swung open again—three people came straight towards them.

Walnut was slightly attentive and couldn’t help but glance in that direction—a somewhat elegant young man among them seemed familiar, but upon closer inspection was not someone from the House of Art, giving him a sigh of relief. Though Golande and Nogness were worlds apart, thousands of miles north and south, he knew he was being too paranoid. But in escape, it was easy to become like a startled bird, and with that thought, he couldn’t help but admire the Seven Seas Travel Group more.

Compared to them, the others seemed entirely at ease.

Still, he took another glance at those three—the elegant young man carried an exaggerated Longbow on his back, so much so that as he sidled through the crowd, he had to continually smile and apologize to those whose hats or cloaks he bumped into.

Fortunately, the young man had a good temper, and such jostling was so common that no one minded. Behind the young man followed a Swordsman, face cold as if everyone owed him thousands, while the third figure behind them seemed rather unique.

This person was short, wrapped in a long cloak, even inside the inn without removing the hood, leaving only a pointed face visible, giving off the impression of a girl. And Walnut’s first impression was that this girl likely had quite a pleasing appearance.

The young man and the Swordsman escorted the person behind them forward, standing by the table of that middle-aged man—Walnut couldn’t help turning his head to see them seemingly exchanging a whisper, as the middle-aged man extended a hand, gesturing for them to sit down.

Seeing this, Walnut couldn’t resist another look at the ’girl’ in the cloak, noticing the other seemed to have started paying attention to him, quickly turned back away.

Meanwhile, Zaozi in front of him had not noticed any of this, still talking about their journey over the past few days, when suddenly a voice came from the nearby table:

”Hey, have you guys checked the community lately?”

”Of course, who hasn’t?”

”Then have you seen that thread?” the speaker asked, with a particularly loud voice that made Walnut and his companions glance over to find the speaker was a warrior. Indeed, warriors were known for their booming voices—just as the ancients didn’t deceive—everyone couldn’t help but think.