FHC B2 Chapter 2: Needing Directions

By the time we were on the road, I still didn't have an answer to my question.

I stared at my status sheet while walking behind my companions. Investing in strength made sense; it felt good to be stronger, and being locked in place by the puppets did not feel good.

Yet, strength wasn't what I needed, not now.

Constitution was where I needed improvement and maybe agility, too. The extra flexibility and balance I had started to feel tempted me to put in more points there.

In the end, I put two points into CON and left it at that. I gave my status sheet one last look before closing it and focusing on the road ahead.

Name: Cain Veldman

Title: Crimson Hunter

Auxiliary Title: String Cutter

Level: 4

Stats: (+3)

• STR: 15
• AGI: 16
• CON: 16 (+2)
• INT: 16
• WIS: 13
• LUK: 16

Skills Unlocked:

• Summon Familiar (Freki)

Passive Skills:

• Ember Soul
• Shadow Bond

If only I knew what Devon's stats looked like. I bet his STR is insane.

It was funny that my LUK was not the smallest of all my stats. With everything that could go wrong constantly happening to me, I'd probably need three times the amount of stat points just to sleep peacefully.

"Cain, pay attention," Devon ordered.

Maybe there's a hidden charisma stat; Devon probably has a debuff.

"How much further do we have to travel?" I called out.

"Another two hours. Now, pay attention."

—-------------------------------

It did not take another two hours like he said it would. At some point, the river we were meant to cross had swelled. One foot in the raging current nearly made me slip and float away. Devon had us take a detour until we found a spot where we could cross.

After that, we had to backtrack to the original spot we intended to cross over to follow the road to the village. By the time we saw smoke rise past the canopies, my fragile control over my hunger was starting to fray.

It took every ounce of willpower not to shove all of Thelassa's cookies into my mouth.

As we neared a wooden building, Devon had us stop and then picked up a rock. He stood still, wound his arm back, and rocketed the projectile into the nearby tree. It blasted through the bark and embedded itself into the thick trunk.

A shrill scream came from the treetop, turning into a sputtering cough. When the screamer didn't come out, Devon reached down and grabbed another stone, only for a surprisingly manly voice to desperately call out.

"Wait! Wait! I'll show myself. Please don't throw another one."

Devon lowered his arm, his expression blank as he watched the tree and waited.

A man dressed in plain brown clothes, smeared with green and black stains, hopped down. He looked older, maybe in his mid-thirties, and had a stringless bow strapped to his back. The quiver around his thigh was filled with arrows with white fletchings, and he carefully removed his hands from the arrows and held them up.

"I didn't mean to spy on a Grimm. My apologies, sir Hunter," he said with surprising calm.

I watched him, observing his arms and legs. He didn't shake, but he clenched his jaw. My gaze switched to Devon, who dropped the stone.

"If you lie, I'll break your arm," Devon said. The man blinked but otherwise remained frozen. "Don't eat berries the next time you want to trail us. Few things eat something that smells so strongly of mint."

"Ahh… I. I apologize for the attempted deception."

Devon ignored the sudden nervousness in the man's voice and motioned for the village. "Looking for a source of food and drink and directions to the capital. We'll also need to know if anyone would be willing to take us."

This time, the man did wince, and he looked around nervously. "Food and drinks we can do easily; Jaera's tavern is open. Directions are easy, but we have no map. I can direct you for the next several miles, but only that. And unfortunately, the only person who would be willing to take you to the capital, his steed broke its leg and is unfit for travel."

Devon nodded and turned to the village. "Very well."

With a quick flick of his wrist, two streaks of silver flashed through the air, and the hunter nearly jumped as a pair of silver coins landed by his feet. "Wha?"

"If you have any other information you can share with us by the time we're done at the Tavern, it would be appreciated."

The man slowly reached down and scooped up the coins, looking surprised and paranoid. "Uh, yes sir."

We followed along, and I watched the man stand there, rubbing at the back of his neck with a relieved expression on his face.

The tavern wasn't hard to find. Much like usual, it was one of the few places that could be heard and smelled well before we spotted it. The scent that wafted on the breeze contained less vomit than the one in the first village, but piss and alcohol were ever-present. When we pushed the tavern doors open, the inhabitants took a while to notice us, and when they did, they grew deathly silent. An effect I was getting far too used to.

Several burly men with rough-looking faces and even rougher hands leaned back in their chairs. They looked less afraid and more ready to start a fight with each other.

A particularly hairy specimen glared as he looked down from his thick chest. The peacockery nearly made me snort.

I pushed past him and joined Devon at the bar, where a weathered woman in a thick apron clenched her fist.

"Good afternoon to you. Is there something I can get you?"

"A meal and drink for me and her and triple the amount of food for him," Devon replied.

She glanced at me suspiciously and then hesitantly turned back to Devon. "I can do that… it's eight coppers for a plate and drink, so roughly 32 coppers total… is that acceptable?"

Devon flipped another silver coin on the counter, and her eyes widened. She glanced up, but Devon remained uncaring as she nodded and slid the coin into a pocket hidden behind her apron.

"I'll be out shortly."

Once she left, I turned around and leaned on the counter, watching the room. Several pairs of eyes looked away while the large man from before continued to glare.

Though… judging by how much he keeps swaying, I'm not sure if he's looking at me or the invisible clone to my right.

A second man at the table tried to pull the first man's attention away from us, and he somewhat succeeded. The tall guy glared but turned around.

It felt strange. A week ago, I would have shrunk away from the man. But now? I could take on the entire room, whether through iron, my wolf, or in a blaze of embers. That filled me with a certain confidence in my safety.

These people weren't ancient monsters, so why be scared?

I turned away and shook my head. Getting cocky would get me killed. Better to cut that line of thinking before it was too late.

"Hey, Devon. You keep tossing silver around. Isn't that a lot around here?" I whispered, keeping my voice to a conversational low.

"It's a tool, nothing more. If we need more coin, we'll acquire it. Simple as that."

I kept my sigh internal and hopped up on a nearby chair. It didn't take long for the barkeep to come back with a bowl of soup filled with meat and a large tankard of something that smelled only slightly better than the piss outside. My plate had three bowls stacked on it, each one filled to the brim with soup, and on the side was another plate of extra meat and bread.

She even gave me an extra cup of ale that I cautiously sniffed.

Nostalgic… somehow. Man, I miss lemonade.

The first bowl was consumed in less than a minute, while the next two were eaten with more control. Now that my hunger had stopped trying to claw out my insides, I could finally relax long enough to down some of the ale.

The first gulp nearly caused the just-eaten bowls of soup to spill out onto the floor. But after the fourth sip, the yeasty concoction began to go down smooth

As I moved the second tankard away, a very concerned-looking barkeep approached and grabbed the plates before quietly refilling another tankard.

I tried to smile, and her eye twitched as she half-heartedly smiled back.

Yeah, okay. Three bowls isn't that crazy lady.

"Cain," Devon whispered.

I looked over, and he jerked his thumb, but I didn't have time to react as someone spun me around and lifted me up by the collar of my shirt. I blinked in surprise, trying to understand why the glaring man from before was about to dribble spit onto my face.

"I don't like the look of your fa-"

A swift knee to the gut forced the man to release his grip and go crashing into the nearby table, bowling over another patron who just barely jumped out of his chair in time. The man moaned, and then vomit spewed out, gross chunks rolling out as a wave of disgusting grey-yellow bile began to coat the stone.

The tavern became silent. Several patrons held their breath, and a few backed away while slowly moving towards the door.

While nobody dared to leave, they did press themselves against the walls as Devon and Alice turned around. Alice looked ready to gut someone while Devon crossed his arms and nudged his chin subtly towards the entrance.

The spy from before stepped through and narrowed his eyes at the moaning, big man who was dry-heaving on his knees.

"Uh, sir Grimm. I have some information about a caravan several hours out."