CHAPTER 95: BITTERSWEET FAREWELL

In the end, Gara allowed Madha to come with them.

The next day at dawn, he borrowed his uncle’s carriage, covering it entirely with extra cloth so no one could see inside.

He carefully wiped down the interior, making sure it was clean and safe for the babies.

Then he drove the carriage to the neighboring Suruta Village.

When he arrived in front of Gara’s bambo house, another carriage had just departed. It was likely carrying some of their belongings.

"We’ll go say our farewells to the villagers. You and Fian take the triplets to the crossroads first," Gara instructed.

They loaded cloth bags filled with baby clothes and jars of milk into the carriage, then carefully placed the cribs inside. Afterward, the cribs were tied to the side of the carriage.

Then, they gently laid the triplets into the cribs.

Fian climbed in to keep watch, making sure nothing happened to the tiny infants.

Rea and her three children also got in, each of her little ones taking a crib. The triplets didn’t cry when they sensed the squirrel-children’s presence, which was a huge relief.

The carriage, then, rolled away.

Not long after, the mostly elderly villagers came down from the herb fields, including the village chief himself.

Gara and Wina stepped out of the house carrying a few cloth bags, pretending they had only just come across them.

"Gara, it’s been so long," Grandma Lasmyra greeted warmly.

Gara returned her smile and explained their departure to the town. The villagers were heartbroken. They were losing the only youth left in their small community.

"A Liner must pursue his glory. All of us grandfathers and grandmothers here support you, Gara," said Grandma Mala, her voice tinged with sorrow but also pride.

"Don’t forget to visit whenever you pass through," added Grandpa Jaya calmly. Though just yesterday, when Wina came by, he had looked utterly shocked and devastated.

Several of the elders offered parting words, and even gifts.

"Let me fetch some fruit. There’s a whole box. You won’t need to buy any for a month," Grandma Lasmyra said eagerly.

"No need to trouble yourself, Grandma. We can’t carry everything anyway," Gara said, rejecting her offer, internally pleased because he had deliberately brought extra cloth bags so he would have a reason to refuse.

Lasmyra’s eyes flicked to their already-full hands and backs. "Then at least take one sack."

Without waiting for an answer, the old woman bustled off toward her home. Soon, other villagers did the same.

By the end, Gara and Wina were holding bundles of small cloth bags stuffed with gifts from the villagers.

They walked together with the duo mother and son to the crossroads, where the carriage waited.

After another round of farewells, Gara and Wina climbed in. Some villagers tried to follow, wanting to help arrange the bags inside, but just as they touched the carriage’s covering, it suddenly took off.

Wina and Gara pulled the cloth cover open just a little, waving at the villagers as they grew smaller in the distance.

The farewell ended on a bittersweet note.

A few minutes later, on the quiet road, the carriage stopped. The cribs inside were too bulky and unsafe to keep there.

Each of them carried one baby. Meanwhile, Rea and her children. went into Gara’s cloth bag

Then, one by one, the three wooden cribs were hauled to the roof, tied down tightly, and covered again with another cloth.

They didn’t head straight for town. First, they had to lay down false trails.

Because of that, the trip that should have taken only four hours stretched into five.

Entering the Falopo Town, the carriage rolled on the main street then headed on to a quiet street.

It stopped in front of the inn.

The inn was modest, looking no different from an ordinary wooden house, except for the sign out front that read Tulip Inn.

Waiting by the entrance was a stern-faced woman with a single-lens eyeglass perched on her nose.

"Welcome, Master Gara, Madam Wina," she greeted as Gara and Wina stepped down from the carriage.

Gara nodded politely. "It’s good to meet you, Hilda."

It was his first time seeing his Merchant House’s manager in person.

Hilda wore a calf-length dress of fine pale-brown cotton. The cut was elegant and formal. It was perfect for a businesswoman.

Her gaze flicked toward the elf climbing down from the carriage, cradling an infant in his arms. With one baby in Gara’s hands and another in Wina’s, there were three babies in total.

What a strange view!

Yet her expression didn’t change in the slightest. Calm as ever, Hilda guided them inside the Tulip Inn.

Gara watched her steady composure and couldn’t help feeling fortunate to have taken Hilda under his wing.

Hilda wasn’t just any slave. She was a half-dragon, born of two half-dragons. It is said that this isn’t her real form. Her true form has horn and scales, like a dragon’s.

Not only that, Hilda had once served one of the Dragon Lord’s sons.

At first, she was just another maid and had never been in charge of money. But as the servants dwindled one by one, she was forced to take over.

Her sharp instincts and steady consistency were what kept her in service longer than the rest.

According to Tristan, the current Dragon Lord was... less than competent, especially in the way he treated his retainers.

He spoiled his children endlessly, and when anything went wrong, he dumped the blame onto their servants.

When the prince that Hilda served squandered an entire year’s allowance in a single night of gambling, the fault fell not on him but on her and the other attendants.

That alone cost Hilda her life.

But, thanks to her grandfather—a pure-blood dragon with ties to the king’s cousin—she wasn’t executed. Instead, she was reduced to slavery.

That same cousin knew Tristan, and through him, Hilda came to Gara willingly, realizing that serving under him might not be the worst fate.

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