Chương 20: Hound on a trail

It took Ethan until late afternoon to reach Mountford. The settlement was massive. Far larger than anything he'd seen so far on this level. Clay walls rose from the desert like they'd grown there naturally, their color almost identical to the surrounding dunes. From a distance, Mountford had blended into the landscape. Up close, it was impossible to miss. Ethan slowed as he approached the gates. He knew of Mountford. He knew who controlled it. But beyond that, his knowledge was limited.

He hadn't spent time here before, so he had no idea what to expect or how welcoming they would be. As he approached, he noticed two guards standing at the open gate. When he had nearly reached them, they moved, blocking the entrance.

"State your business." Ethan came to a stop. The guards didn't look hostile or on edge, which was a good sign. He played with the buckle of his pack and answered.

"I've been traveling around looking for my sister." The guard studied him briefly, eyes flicking over his gear, then to his face. He called out to another person. They walked out from the other side of the gate. After a quick interrogation, asking where he had been and what his name was, the guard let him through. Ethan moved to pass, but the man raised a hand again.

"You best find a place to clean up," the guard added.

"Can't have civilians getting scared." Ethan snorted softly.

"Don't worry, that's the first thing on my list." The guard gave him a roguish smile.

"Good. Now go on." Ethan nodded and entered the settlement proper. Mountford was busy. People moved through the streets, hauling supplies, talking, laughing. The weight on Ethan's shoulders lessened slightly. He could smell food hanging in the air. A small child ran past, bumping into him slightly.

"Sorry mister!" he shouted, not stopping, as a trio of other young boys chased after him with a laugh. Ethan chuckled as well and continued walking through it all. But it took only a moment to realize people were giving him a wide berth. They didn't make a scene. No one said anything outright. But he noticed a few wrinkled noses in his direction. Truly, [Keen Sense] was a blessing and a curse. He supposed they had a decent reason. The guard had been right. He smelled.

Not overwhelmingly, but enough to be noticeable. A young couple walked a few paces in front of him, looking like they were trying to speed up. Ethan wasn't having that though. Not when he heard their conversation.

"I heard Maddox is performing at The Plow and Feather. Let's go check it out."

"Hell yes! He's so hot!"

"What—" Ethan kept following the now bickering couple, hopeful the place would have somewhere to stay and was open. It didn't take long for them to reach a building, a wooden sign hanging over the door. He followed them inside, leaving the fading sunlight behind. The interior was packed. People filled every table, drinks clanking against each other as laughter rolled through the room. Someone sat on a raised platform strumming a guitar, the tune light and easy. He hummed softly, every pair of women's eyes watching.

Ethan snorted. He could see what the woman was saying. At his snort, a few heads turned his way. Some scowled. Others leaned away slightly. Ethan pretended it wasn't happening and made his way to the bar. As he walked, he focused intently on [Keen Sense]. The amount of information pouring in was staggering. He could filter everything, from people moving around behind him to hushed conversations in the corner. Normally, it would have been overwhelming.

And perhaps if he had never experienced anything like this before, it would be. But it was manageable. His newly awakened core absorbed the strain. His brain had been enhanced and now he could filter information freely, opting not to listen to every conversation and instead focusing on only one thing at a time. It was still intense, but it no longer felt like it was trying to tear his focus apart. Ethan exhaled slowly and leaned an elbow against the bar.

Behind it stood a woman who could only be described as formidable. She was tall and broad, with thick arms and a round face flushed from heat and exertion. Her hair was pulled back in a messy knot, and her apron was already stained with food, drink, and what looked suspiciously like blood. Despite all that, she was smiling as she worked, laughing loudly at something a customer said as she slid a mug across the bar with surprising dexterity. When she noticed Ethan, her smile widened and she moved over.

"Well I'll be damned," she said, planting both hands on the bar and leaning forward.

"What's a young'n like you doing in here, all filthy as well?" Ethan laughed despite himself. Though her words weren't exactly kind, from the tone of her voice, he knew there was no animosity.

"I'd love a place to get clean and a bed." She waved a hand dismissively.

"Obviously. You want a drink? Look too young for beer. I got some juice or something though. Ya look like you need it. Because I'll tell you right now, you're getting a bath whether you like it or not."

"A room would be good," Ethan said, letting a smile slip onto his face.

"And yeah. A bath."

"Smart man," she said brightly.

"What's your name then?"

"I'm Ethan. It's a pleasure to meet you." She grabbed a chalk and scribbled it down on a board behind her.

"One night's a copper, for you. Bath's included. Food's extra. But come down after you clean up. I'll give you one on the house tonight. It's a pleasure to meet you too." Ethan reached into his backpack and rummaged for his small stack of copper coins. He'd been given a handful for the scorpion venom and other parts from Alex. He slid one across the bar. She eyed it, then him.

"Only one?"

"One's all you asked for." Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She laughed, a booming sound that cut through the bar noise.

"Fair enough. Rooms are upstairs, second door on the left. Bath's already heated, but that's down the hall at the end of the second floor. Gods know you need it." She pushed a rough wooden key toward him.

"Remember to come back down after. I'll get you something."

"Appreciated. Thanks—." Ethan paused, realizing he didn't have her name yet.

"Tilly," she laughed, shaking her head. He took the key with a nod and headed for the stairs, ignoring the looks as he went. His room was small but clean, with a narrow bed, a chair, and a window that looked down at the street below. Ethan didn't stay long. He performed a quick sweep of the room before dumping his gear on the bed and heading back out down the hallway toward the bath. By the time he finished, the water looked like something had died. He chuckled.

Surely the filter system would clean it once more for someone else to use. He dressed in clean clothes from his pack and headed back downstairs, feeling human again. The bartender noticed immediately.

"Oh thank the gods," she said cheerfully as he approached.

"I knew you were a little cutie under all that filth."

"I feel personally attacked," Ethan replied, deciding he quite liked this woman. She grinned.

"You'll live. Sit. Food's on its way." He took a seat at a smaller table near the edge of the room. Tilly had said she would have something hot brought his way while handing him a drink, which it turned out was indeed juice. As he waited, he let [Keen Sense] spread out further. The skill still felt strange. Like leaning into a sense he'd always had but never used. The noise of the bar didn't vanish, but it sorted itself. Conversations separated. Movement became clearer. He loved it.

If someone tried to sneak up on him now, they would be fucked. He kept his head down, but sensed as six people entered the bar. They carried themselves with far more grace than the average person in the room, immediately telling him they had leveled up a decent amount. They took a table not far from him. Tilly brought over drinks for them immediately. They seemed polite enough as they took the cups and began to talk about mundane things. At first it was nothing. Complaints about heat.

A joke about someone nearly getting eaten by a dune crawler. Someone else grumbling about ration prices and how the system was a rip off. Ethan tuned most of it out, focusing on his food that had conveniently arrived. But his spoon came to a stop as he overheard something interesting.

"Still weird though," a man said.

"Another group missing. Third one this week." He kept eating, making sure he didn't look like a weirdo sitting in the corner watching everything.

"That makes no sense," a woman replied.

"Mountford's routes are clean. We've cleared all the monsters out around here."

"Exactly," the man said.

"So either people are lying, or someone's killing them." A snort followed.

"You know who."

"Broken Dawns?" another voice said.

"They're getting too comfortable at the top. Don't want any competition."

"Careful," someone else muttered.

"That's dangerous talk." There was a pause, then a different woman spoke.

"Hasn't Alice gone to look into it?"

"Of course it'd go to her team."

"She's got Chris," someone said.

"Ex–something-or-other. Secret agent, right? Got offered a rare class when the system hit, so obviously the higher-ups would put them on it."

"That tracks," another voice replied.

"And now she's got that new scout too."

"So what?" someone answered.

"We've plenty of scouts."

"Yeah, but apparently she's got some skill the higher-ups have been chasing."

"Is that the pretty brunette? The one that said she would only join if we searched for her brother?" Ethan's grip tightened around his mug, eyes slightly widening.

"Sam, you can't say other woman are pretty in front of your girlfriend. Look at her, you've made her upset."

"Fuck off Loti."

"Figures," the man continued.

"That bitch is always gifted the best people."

"That's bullshit," someone else grumbled.

"Some of us have been grinding for months." Their conversation drifted after that, but Ethan barely heard it. Had he stumbled across something already? Surely not. People entered the trials every day. It could be a complete random. Probably was a complete random. After all, why would Leah take the scout class? It offered fuck all but a quick death. He filtered out everything else, [Keen Sense] narrowing until the world felt distant, muted. His focus sharpened, thoughts racing as he struggled to grasp the situation.

The Broken Dawns weren't a bad guild. They wouldn't attack random groups, even if it was from their rival guild. Maybe a powerful monster had entered the territory. Had the outer rings started collapsing already? A presence entered his space, pulling his focus back into the present. Ethan felt it before it happened. The shift in air. The weight of someone stopping beside his table. He ignored it for a second longer than polite, hoping, briefly, that the person would move on.

A hand came down on the table in front of him. Ethan exhaled slowly and looked up. He'd known it was coming. He'd just hoped it wouldn't. Apparently, he wasn't that lucky. The man leaned on the table, practically putting all his weight on it. Ethan could feel his breath, the smell of alcohol assaulting his senses. Another downside to [Keen Sense].

"What's a kid doin' in a bar like this?" the man asked, voice loud enough to draw a few glances.

"Shouldn't you be with your parents?" Ethan looked up slowly. The man had his eyes narrowed, looking down at him while slightly wobbling where he stood. His face was gruff and gaunt. Ethan didn't answer right away. Instead, he let [Keen Sense] skim the surface. The man's intent wasn't violent. Not initially. It was that familiar mix of entitlement, boredom, and a dash of alcohol. A mix Ethan had seen far too often. Ethan exhaled through his nose. He'd heard what he needed to hear tonight.

He had a lead, even if it was tiny and led nowhere. He stood, setting his juice down gently on the table.

"Enjoy your night," Ethan said, already turning away. The man blinked, then scowled.

"Hey. I'm talkin' to you." Ethan didn't stop. A hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve. That was a mistake. Ethan twisted just enough to break the grip without effort, his expression flat as he glanced back.

"I'm going to meet my parents," he said, eyes rolling in a way that wasn't even subtle.

"Wouldn't want to keep them waiting." The man's face flushed deeper red.

"Oh, you think you're funny?" he slurred.

"Think you're smart, huh?" He stepped forward, balance wavering, one hand lifting again—this time with intent. Ethan didn't move. He didn't need to. Another hand clamped down on the man's wrist from the side, iron-strong and unyielding.

"Let go," a voice said. The drunk yelped as his arm was wrenched back, forced down at an angle that made even Ethan wince. He turned, sputtering, only to find himself staring up at someone taller, broader, and very clearly not amused. A Valkyries crest was stitched into the man's robe.

"Fuck off," the Valkyrie said quietly.

"Before you embarrass yourself more." The drunk looked between them, eyes finally focusing enough to register the uniform. Whatever fire he'd had sputtered out fast. He muttered something under his breath, yanked his arm free, and staggered away toward the bar, grumbling curses along the way. The Valkyrie turned back to Ethan.

"You alright?" he asked. Ethan nodded once.

"Yeah. Thanks." The man studied him for a second longer, then shrugged.

"Happens. Some people don't know when to quit." He turned to leave, clearly ready to put the whole thing behind him.

"Hey," Ethan said, catching his attention.

"Can I buy you a drink? For stepping in." The Valkyrie paused, then laughed. A short, genuine sound.

"You know what, why not? Who can say no to a free beer." They returned to the bar together. Ethan paid, sliding a couple coins across the counter. Tilly gave him an approving nod.

"Still no alcohol for you. Even if you're buddying up with the Valkyries." The man laughed and Ethan squinted at her. She smiled, took the coins, and produced two drinks. One, once again, juice. Still, Ethan thanked her. Even if he didn't want the drink. The man grabbed his beer and turned to Ethan.

"So," he said after a sip.

"What do you want?" Ethan hesitated only briefly. There was no reason to lie about this part.

"I'm looking for my sister," he said.

"Her name's Leah. Know where I can get some information?" The Valkyrie hummed, thinking.

"A lot of people pass through here. Some stay. Some don't. Hard to keep track." Ethan nodded. He'd expected that.

"She might be around," the man added.

"Or she might've moved on already. Hard to say."

"That's fair." Ethan put his drink back on the bar.

"Well, thanks anyway." He turned to leave.

"Hey. If you're serious about finding her," the man said, "check the registry at the guild hall tomorrow. New arrivals get logged. Jobs too. Might be something there." Ethan smiled, genuine this time.

"Thanks," he said.

"I appreciate it." The man lifted his drink in response. Ethan headed back upstairs not long after, the tavern noise fading behind him. He locked his door, sat on the edge of the bed, and let the tension finally drain from his shoulders. Outside, the moon sat high in the sky, casting a pale light through his window. Tomorrow, he'd resupply. Tomorrow, he'd go to the guild hall. Tonight, he would rest.