CHAPTER 393: CHAPTER 205: INTERTWINED DESTINIES

Qingmai Village is small, and there is rarely anything worth mentioning happening among the villagers who live here.

Eating, farming, sleeping;

Sprouting, heading, ripening.

The monotonous life is like the wheat in the field—day in, day out, year after year, endlessly repeating.

Therefore, regarding that team supposedly attacked by beastmen, even after a long time had passed, everyone in the village still remembered it vividly.

"We’re not too far from the Mist Forest, so adventurers like you all are often passing through."

"But that time was somewhat different."

"Normally, adventurers coming out of the forest, even if they look a bit... uh, unpresentable, whether it’s the relief of surviving a crisis or the excitement of returning with a full load, in general, the atmosphere isn’t particularly bad."

"Even if the losses are severe, with even some team members not making it out of the forest, it would be just silence, sadness."

"But the condition of that team, it was the first time I had seen such a thing."

At this point, the village chief leading the way for everyone paused, as if recalling the scene at that time.

"It wasn’t joy or excitement, nor was it anger or sorrow."

"It was... fear."

Although Qingmai Village is somewhat close to the Mist Forest, compared to places like River Valley Town or Cui Xi Village, it is undoubtedly much farther away.

Because of this, the village lost the potential profits that could be brought by a lot of adventurers coming and going, secluded and poor, and relatively, the frequency of occurrences of demons was also lower.

On normal days, there were at most only some small goblin communities.

Adventurer teams that could escape from the Mist Forest and come here would basically not encounter much danger anymore.

In this situation, if, as the village chief said, they showed "traumatized fear,"

then it could only prove that these people encountered something in the forest that was extremely terrifying to them, something that left them unable to shake off its psychological impact even after they left.

Xia Nan pondered inwardly, and the team he was following suddenly stopped.

Looking up, what appeared before everyone was a wooden house as dilapidated as the other buildings in the village.

"It was Kelli’s family who received them that day."

"She should know some specific details of that time."

The village chief introduced, stepping forward to knock on the door.

Knock knock knock—

With a rush of footsteps, the wooden door was suddenly pulled open.

A plain-looking woman, seemingly in her early thirties, looked at the few people at the door with surprise.

The village chief quickly explained the purpose of Sea Thorn Squad, and facing such an adventurer team, the woman neither had any intention to refuse nor dared to have any.

With some trepidation and unease, she invited everyone inside.

The interior set-up was just as it appeared from the outside.

An extremely simple "survival space" that was more functional than aesthetic.

The damp and uneven earthen floor had straw and wheat stalks covering only some areas; in the center of the inner room against a wall, slightly lower than ground level, flames rose surrounded by stones, and on top, there was a well-used iron pot perched carefully.

Their gazes wandered over a grass basket filled with odds and ends in the corner, a small string of onions on the wall, and a makeshift "bed" barely deserving the name, constructed from a low wooden frame and a patched linen blanket.

Xia Nan already formed a first impression in his heart about this "Kelli’s family."

"Where’s your husband, still in the field?" Cash also surveyed the surroundings, asking casually.

By the time they arrived at Qingmai Village, it was already afternoon.

At present, aside from the woman, only a snotty-nosed little boy of about seven or eight years old remained inside the house—he was hiding behind his mother, grasping her pant leg, peering out cautiously and curiously at everyone.

Before the woman, named "Kelli," who appeared extremely nervous in front of them all, could reply,

the village chief, standing slightly behind her, took the initiative to explain:

"Her husband passed away two years ago, ran into a small group of goblins on the way home from the field, leaving behind two."

Hearing this, Cash nodded, yet his face showed no apparent changes in expression, as if listening to another adventurer brag at the tavern.

A casual question warranted only casual listening.

Indifferent.

"The village chief has already explained to you, so tell us," he got straight to the point, "the detailed circumstances of that day, that adventurer team."

"Yes, yes, sir."

With calloused hands holding the hem of her clothes, the woman hung her head, stammering out her response.

"That day it should have been, uh, morning, yes, morning."

"I was carrying a wooden bucket, planning to go to the village to fetch some well water, when I’d just stepped out the door and heard Little Jack shouting ’Mom, adventurers, there are adventurers.’"

"Turning back, I saw a few adventurers wearing leather armor hurrying along the road toward the village."

"Thinking about it now, it was indeed a bit strange."

Farming under the sun for long periods had left her skin coarse and dark brown.

"In broad daylight, on the plains, you could see the sheep on the distant meadows clearly from in the village, yet these adventurers were constantly panting and looking back, as if something were chasing them."

"And stranger still is that when they got closer, I suddenly realized, not only were those adventurers not seriously injured, even the leather armor they wore showed few obvious signs of damage."