novelODS Chapter 22 Mission Report
Chapter 22 Mission Report
As the city gates of Dugu City slowly opened in the morning light, Chen Mo felt as if he had traveled a very, very long way.
In fact, they did travel a long way—from Wolf Skull Cave to Solitude, a journey that took two whole days on foot.
His legs were weak, his shoulders were blistered from the armor, and the wounds on his palms were still throbbing. But he didn't stop.
Benjamin walked beside him, his grey robe stained with dirt and moss, and the copper corner of his thick spellbook still bore traces of blood from when he had smashed the wolf.
The old man's face was even paler than it had been two days ago, but his steps remained steady, and he was even humming a tune that was out of tune.
The city gate guards glanced at them, their gaze lingering for a moment on the enchanted short sword and Benjamin's blood-stained spellbook, but they did not stop them.
The people in the city have already begun their busy day.
The blacksmith's hammer clanged and clattered, the bakery wafted a delicious aroma, and the fishmonger shouted his wares at the top of his lungs.
Everything was exactly the same as when they left.
No one knows what happened in the wolf skull cave, and no one knows that the remnant soul of the wolf queen once drew a dark blue arc in the night sky above the city.
Chen Mo suddenly felt a strange sense of alienation.
He walked on the stone-paved streets of Dugu City, wearing light armor stained with blood, with an enchanted short sword he had taken from a box of the dead hanging at his waist, and several hundred gold coins and an enchanter's diary in his pocket.
He survived a wolf attack, shot a skeleton, pierced the skull of a living person with an arrow on a tower, was possessed by the spirit of the wolf queen, and then—devoured a portion of her power.
And these people—those walking on the street, those hawking their wares at stalls, those queuing in front of bakeries—know nothing. They continue with their lives as always.
Chen Mo couldn't help but smile, as he recalled the times he used to play games.
No matter how high and low your Dragonborn soars, slays dragons and gods, when you enter the city, the guards are still lazily basking in the sun, saying to you, "I used to be an adventurer like you, until I took an arrow to the knee..."
In fact, this is the main reason why Chen Mo has always liked ancient scrolls.
He always felt that the charm of The Elder Scrolls was that it was a real world. No matter how thrilling the adventure or how famous the deeds, they were just a drop of water in this vast and complex world. Perhaps they would occasionally splash up a wave in the grand scheme of history, but in an instant they would disappear into the raging torrent.
"What are you thinking about?" Benjamin's voice pulled him back to reality.
"It's nothing." Chen Mo smiled, looked away, and said, "Let's go to the tavern first."
In the blink of an eye, the door to the giant rat was half open.
When I pushed open the door, the tavern was as quiet as usual in the morning—only two or three customers were drinking something in the corner, the fire in the fireplace was not burning very well, and the whole space seemed a bit empty.
Koprulus was standing behind the bar, placing cups on the shelf.
He looked up when he heard the door open.
His gaze lingered on Chen Mo and Benjamin for a moment, scanning them from head to toe—the blood-stained light armor, the worn gray robes, and the identical weariness on their faces.
He raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn't ask any further questions. He simply took two wooden cups from under the bar, poured two glasses of mead, and pushed them in front of them.
"Drink it," he said.
Chen Mo picked up the glass and took a big gulp. The sweet and spicy taste of the mead exploded in his throat, warming him up completely.
Benjamin didn't drink. He put the spellbook on the bar, rested his hands on the counter, and stared into Copulus's eyes.
"What happened in the Wolf Skull Cave is bigger than you think." Benjamin's tone had lost its usual roguishness; his voice was deep and serious. "Botoma. Those necromancers are summoning Botoma."
The cup in Koprulus's hand stopped in mid-air.
He stared at Benjamin for three seconds, then put down his cup, leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice: "Are you sure?"
"I saw it with my own eyes," Chen Mo replied.
His voice was hoarse, but every word was clear: "Eight necromancers, a complete ritual array, summoned a spirit—the spirit of Potema. They tried to enslave her with blood magic, but failed. She escaped."
Koprulus's expression changed.
The usual shrewdness and indifference on that round face disappeared, replaced by a solemnity that Chen Mo had never seen before.
He tapped his fingers lightly on the bar counter a few times, as if processing the news.
"You're badly injured," he said, his gaze sweeping over the bloodstains on Chen Mo's forehead and the stains on Benjamin's robe.
"He won't die." Benjamin picked up his mead and downed it in one gulp. "But this can't be delayed. If Portma wanders outside, finds a new host, or regains his powers—"
"I know," Koprulus interrupted him, already emerging from behind the bar, untying his apron and draping it over the back of a chair. "You guys wait here, don't go anywhere. I'm going to the Blue Palace to find Foco Huohu. This needs to be reported to the higher-ups."
He walked to the door and looked back one last time.
"Have something to eat. It's on me."
Then he pushed open the door and went out.
The tavern fell silent.
The fire crackled in the fireplace. The other guests in the corner had long since left, leaving only Chen Mo and Benjamin sitting at the bar.
"What do you want to eat?" Benjamin asked.
"Anything is fine."
Benjamin shouted into the kitchen.
A short while later, a young waitress brought out two large platters of food—roasted lamb with mashed potatoes, a large piece of black bread, and a bowl of thick bean soup.
The food was steaming, and its aroma condensed into a white mist in the cold air.
Chen Mo picked up the wooden spoon and started eating.
He almost groaned when he took his first sip of hot soup.
The roasted lamb tasted better than he could remember ever having.
The meat wasn't particularly tender, and some parts were even a bit tough, but the sensation of the fat melting in his mouth and the explosion of salty and spicy flavors on his tongue made him feel like he had come back to life.
He ate very quickly, almost wolfing it down, with meat juice dripping from the corners of his mouth, but he didn't bother to wipe it away.
Benjamin ate just as fast as him.
The old man broke the bread into small pieces, soaked them in bean soup, and stuffed them into his mouth one bite at a time, his eating manners equally unrefined.
The two men, like wolves that had been starving for a long time, buried themselves in their food in the empty tavern, neither of them speaking. The only sounds were the clinking of wooden spoons against earthenware bowls and the slurping of their chewing.
Halfway through the meal, Chen Mo slowed down.
After the hunger subsided, that feeling of exhaustion from surviving a disaster surged back.
He looked at the remaining mashed potatoes in the bowl and suddenly felt a little dazed.
He remembered his trembling hands when the wolf pounced, the vibration that traveled from the hilt of the sword to his palm when the arrow pierced the back of the necromancer's head, and the icy feeling, like being filled with a bucket of ice water, when Potema's spirit crashed into his body.
I think of the star map, of that star high in the night sky, and of Potema's terrified eyes.
He took a deep breath, stuffed the last bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth, and put down the wooden spoon.
"Are you full?" Benjamin asked.
I'm full.
"Let's go back and get some sleep." Benjamin stood up, stuffed the last piece of bread into his mouth, and mumbled, "They'll come looking for us when they have news from Koprulus."
Chen Mo nodded.
The two men left the tavern, walked up the stone steps, passed through the commercial district, and turned into the alleyway near the city wall.
The stone building sandwiched between the bakery and the warehouse came into view.
Chen Mo took out his key and opened the door, with Benjamin following behind him.
The house is still the same.
The ashes in the fireplace were left a few days ago, and the air was a bit cold and stuffy.
Benjamin went straight to the guest room.
Chen Mo had no interest in tidying up. He went upstairs, pushed open the bedroom door, and collapsed onto the bed.
He didn't even take off his shoes.
His consciousness sank into darkness faster than he had imagined.