The tall, broad-shouldered woman set her belongings down on the nearest table and turned to Laville with an easy, familiar smile.

  “You’re working at such a young age? That’s quite something, little one.”

  Laville gave a polite chuckle and nodded, though inwardly he scoffed—as if I had a choice.

  The woman seemed to be talkative by nature. Seeing that the boy only offered hollow smiles without speaking, she didn’t seem offended. Instead, she continued conversationally,

  “The first time I wielded a sword and went hunting for magical beasts, I was even younger than you. I was terrified back then—those creatures were vicious beyond belief…”

  “You’re a demon hunter?” Laville couldn’t help blurting out, his interest piqued.

  “Sort of. Strictly speaking, demon hunters specialize in slaying vampires, werewolves, and fiends. I’ve hunted a few werewolves in my time, but most of my work is taking down magical beasts. So, you could call me a lone hunter instead.”

  She stroked her smooth chin, as though uncertain herself.

  Hearing this, Laville instinctively glanced toward Glenn. The man seemed indifferent, eyes on his book, though his ears caught every word.

  Glenn didn’t think much of the woman’s stories—he found her chatter more entertaining than the dreary novel he had read earlier.

  “So she’s not a real demon hunter…” Laville muttered, a trace of disappointment in his tone.

  There wasn’t much difference in strength between demon hunters and beast hunters, yet the world had developed an unearned reverence for the former.

  “Little boy, don’t make that disappointed face. It’s rather rude,” the tall woman teased.

  “I wasn’t—it’s just that demon hunters sound more mysterious,” Laville said quickly, flustered.

  The woman gave a soft snort, her gaze drifting toward the window-side table where Glenn sat. “That’s your boss, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “So young, and already owns a place like this. Impressive.”

  She went on to share tales from her travels and adventures. At first, Laville listened half-heartedly, but before long, he found himself caught up in her vivid storytelling, responding eagerly to her every line.

  Meanwhile, Luther approached Glenn, glancing uneasily at the woman by the bar. “Sir, my son says he’s afraid of that lady.”

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  “Didn’t you hear? She’s a hunter. People like that carry an aura of danger. It’s only natural to feel uneasy,” Glenn replied, sitting up.

  “Then I’ll make sure to keep my distance,” Luther murmured, retreating to a far corner.

  Just then, Carter and Kakin pushed through the door, both dripping wet and laden with parcels.

  “Apologies, sir,” Carter began, setting the food down. “The nearby bakeries were closed, so we had to go all the way to the next district.”

  “But the food’s still warm—and not a drop of water got in,” Kakin added with a grin.

  “You’ve done well,” Glenn said, then raised his voice, “Come, everyone—eat.”

  The aroma filled the air, making everyone’s stomachs rumble. Even the lady hunter joined them, smiling sheepishly.

  “Would you mind sharing a bit?” she asked Glenn, half-jokingly.

  “Give her some,” Glenn told the brothers.

  They exchanged a glance but didn’t protest—after all, it wasn’t their coin being spent.

  “Many thanks, kind sir!” The woman accepted her portion with a broad grin. It wasn’t much, but enough to sate her hunger. She pulled five copper coins from her armor and placed them on the table.

  Glenn accepted them without fuss.

  The rest began eating as well, chatting softly amidst the sound of rain. Laughter rose now and then from Luther’s corner.

  Glenn finished his share quickly—it barely filled him halfway. Rising, he pushed open the door. The rain showed no sign of stopping. With a sigh, he shut it again and approached the woman, who was tidying her gear.

  She looked up with a smile. “Something you need, sir?”

  Though her tone was friendly, Glenn didn’t miss the subtle shift of her hand toward the hilt of her greatsword.

  “I overheard you say you’re a hunter,” Glenn said amicably. “May I ask—did you just return from a hunt?”

  The woman’s guard tightened, though her smile stayed fixed. “That’s right. Got myself a small haul. Hoping to fetch a good price for it.”

  “I see. Why not sell it to me instead? I might have use for such materials.”

  The woman blinked, then shook her head. “Afraid not. I already have a buyer—it’s against my code to break a deal. My apologies, sir.”

  “No problem.” Glenn took out the old man’s beast fang and handed it to her. “Do you recognize this?”

  She examined it closely, frowning. “It looks familiar. I’ve seen one before, though it’s rare. I can’t quite recall where.”

  “I’m looking for more of these,” Glenn said. “If you can procure them, I’ll pay generously.”

  The woman studied it for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I can try, but from my experience, this won’t come cheap. Two gold coins at least.”

  Glenn raised a brow but kept his composure. “That’s fine.”

  At once, the woman shot to her feet, grasped his hand in both of hers, and shook it vigorously. “A big client! You have my word, sir—by the honor of Bloodaxe, I’ll see your request fulfilled!”

  Glenn eased his hand free. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  After waiting a while longer and seeing the rain persist, the huntress—Bloodaxe, as she called herself—decided to leave. She clearly had pressing business.

  Glenn, unwilling to waste the day, sent Carter and Kakin out again to buy a couple of rain cloaks.

  They were made from the hide of a local amphibious creature, famed for its excellent waterproofing.

  This time, Glenn only paid for two—one for himself, one for Laville. The brothers didn’t complain.

  Once they returned, Glenn and Laville donned the cloaks, hitched up the deer carriage, and set off through the rain.

  As for the others, Glenn didn’t concern himself—they were grown adults. Surely they could handle a bit of rain.

  The road was a mire of mud, the wheels sinking deep several times. They had to push and pull before finally making it into Bayek Town.

  Curiously, though the forest beyond the walls was drenched in rain, the streets of Bayek were completely dry—as if untouched by the storm.