Glenn suddenly recalled that his deer-drawn cart had no canopy to shield it from the rain, and silently prayed the downpour wouldn’t last too long.

  Passing by a small general store, he caught sight of a few thin, novel-like booklets. On a whim, he purchased one that the shopkeeper enthusiastically recommended, claiming it to be the most popular storybook in the entire kingdom.

  Intrigued, Glenn decided it would make a fine companion to while away the time while he waited out the rain in his tavern.

  Thunder rumbled across the sky as pedestrians hurried along the streets, seeking shelter.

  After guiding his cart beneath a covered space, Glenn stepped into his tavern. His two newly hired workers were seated with Luther, chatting animatedly, their conversation punctuated by laughter and gesturing hands.

  Ravel idly twirled a quill in his fingers, clearly bored.

  The sound of the door opening startled them all. Luther and the two brothers shot upright at once, looking for all the world like schoolboys caught whispering during class.

  “Carry on. Don’t mind me,” Glenn said with a casual wave of his hand.

  But none of them resumed their seats; instead, they began bustling about, pretending to busy themselves with tasks.

  Glenn didn’t bother to correct them. He settled against the wall, opened his newly bought book, and began to read.

  Outside, the rain grew heavier, the rhythm of droplets against the windowpane forming a steady, silvery hum.

  The book was titled The Curious Adventures of Hunkbar—a tale of a knight named Hunkbar who wandered the continent, battling foes and romancing a succession of beautiful women.

  It wasn’t a long read, and with Glenn’s reading speed from his previous life, he was nearly finished within a few hours.

  But truth be told, the story was dreadful. The same formula repeated again and again—enemy appears, hero rescues maiden, another enemy, another rescue. Once or twice would have been tolerable, but this was incessant.

  Worse still, Glenn could hardly remember the names of the many women before yet another appeared, and entire scenes felt recycled, with only the characters renamed.

  That such drivel could be the kingdom’s “bestseller” left him utterly speechless.

  “Even fairy tales are more exciting than this,” he muttered, tossing the booklet aside in disgust.

  He then drew from his pocket the beast fang the old man had given him and began to practice the art of elemental perception and control.

  From across the room, Ravel glanced up, hesitated for a moment, then mustered his courage and approached. “Mr. Glenn, about that…” He pointed timidly at the discarded storybook.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Without lifting his gaze, Glenn replied absently, “Take it if you want.”

  Ravel’s face lit up with delight. He snatched up the book and eagerly returned to his seat.

  He had always been fond of such storybooks, but ever since being “abducted” by Glenn, he hadn’t had the chance to read one. Ironically, this was the very title he’d been meaning to read before.

  Outside, muffled voices drifted through the curtain of rain—someone calling to another across the storm.

  Glenn didn’t stir. He seemed to have found a faint thread of insight.

  The elemental current within the fang flowed like a river woven from countless filaments of light. He sought among them the few strands of different hues, and as he focused, it was as though a new sense—an unseen organ—awoke within him, allowing him to nudge those threads ever so slightly.

  Delighted by this subtle progress, he immersed himself completely.

  Time slipped by unnoticed until a hollow ache in his stomach finally drew him back.

  Stretching his arms and neck, he glanced over at Ravel, who was still engrossed in that tiresome book, eyes gleaming as if reading a masterpiece.

  Perhaps entertainment in this era is simply too scarce, Glenn thought with a faint smile, shaking his head.

  Beyond the dim glass, the rain had softened but still persisted. He regretted not bringing any sort of rain gear—now he would have to brave the weather just to find something to eat.

  Casting a look around, he noticed Carter and Carkin lounging idly nearby. After a quick calculation, he called out, “Carter, Carkin—come here a moment.”

  They hurried over at once.

  “What is it, Mr. Glenn?” Carter asked.

  “You two must be getting hungry by now, aren’t you?” Glenn said with a grin.

  At the mention of food, both men realized he was right.

  “I’ll offer thirty copper coins,” Glenn continued, “if you don’t mind fetching us something to eat. It’s raining out, though—if you’d rather not, I’ll understand.”

  The moment they realized he was treating, they waved their hands eagerly. “No problem at all! We love the rain! Really—let us go!”

  Pleased, Glenn handed them the coins, and the brothers dashed out into the downpour, brimming with enthusiasm.

  Having someone to run errands isn’t bad at all, he mused, reclining with his hands behind his head and his feet propped on the table.

  Before long, instead of the brothers returning, the tavern door burst open, slamming against the wall.

  A tall, broad-shouldered woman strode in, dripping wet, a massive greatsword strapped across her back.

  “Bloody weather! Where did this rain come from all of a sudden?” she cursed, stomping to the counter.

  Ravel looked up from his book, blinking at the imposing stranger.

  “A bottle of ale and something to eat,” she said gruffly, lowering her pack and sword without so much as a glance up.

  The young nobleman, not yet grown into his courage, was clearly intimidated by her presence. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, speechless.

  When the silence stretched, the woman finally looked up. “Didn’t you hear me—eh? Wait, you’re not the same person as before… Whatever! I’m starving, so don’t waste my time! I—”

  “This place isn’t a tavern anymore,” Glenn’s calm voice interrupted, drawing her attention—and allowing Ravel to breathe again.

  Luther stood nearby, studying the woman curiously; she was nearly as tall as he was.

  “Not a tavern? It was last time I came!” she said, bewildered.

  “I bought the place,” Glenn replied evenly. “I’m turning it into a butcher shop.”

  “Damn it!” she muttered under her breath. Then, more loudly, “Well, do you at least have any food? I’ll pay, I swear—I’m starving.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Glenn said lazily, tossing the beast fang in one hand while staring at the ceiling. “We’re hungry ourselves—waiting for our companions to return with something.”

  Her disappointment was plain. After a pause, she ventured hopefully, “Then… perhaps I could share some once they’re back?”

  Glenn tucked away the fang and glanced at her. “Can’t you go and buy your own?”

  She grimaced. “I’ve been walking all day—I’m dead on my feet. And it’s still raining…”

  “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Glenn said simply. “But if there’s extra when they return, you may have a share.”

  “Thank you! I’ll pay double the price!” she said earnestly. Her voice was rough for a woman’s, yet not unpleasant—distinct, even intriguing.

  Glenn said nothing more. He merely waved a hand dismissively and turned his gaze back toward the rain-streaked window, watching the gray world beyond.