In a grand bathhouse as luxurious as an ancient Roman imperial bath.
Steam rose in curling wisps, permeating the air with an intoxicating fragrance that could soften even bones.
Orum sat in the bath, his body fully submerged in the emerald-colored medicinal water.
He looked up at the dome ceiling, where a magnificent mural had been painted: a majestic platinum dragon stood atop Mount Celestia, gazing down upon the endless stars and oceans below.
He stared at it somewhat absent-mindedly, for once enjoying this peak of luxury.
Beside him sat a brown-haired man with a small beard, bare-chested with only a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. He sat in the bath as well, but was far from still, gesturing with his arms as he held forth:
"You can imagine our endless multiverse as a giant, thousand-layered cake with countless layers! And the Prime Material Plane beneath our feet is just one unremarkable layer among them!"
"If you had the guts to take a big bite out of that cake, you could see from the cross-section that our plane has two neighbors: the Nine Hells and Mount Celestia."
"In fact, there are way more than just two outer planes adjacent to the Material Plane... there are countless of them. The occasional portal to another world popping up isn't anything unusual."
On Orum's other side, Felix's dazzling golden hair was now dampened by the steam, hanging smoothly against his cheeks and adding a touch of languid charm to his handsome features.
Felix picked up the thread with his magnetic voice:
"You're right, Ronald."
"After the Time of Troubles, the barriers between planes have become unprecedentedly fragile.
The number of portals to other planes has surged. Even if a portal opened right in front of us now and a minotaur climbed out, I wouldn't be surprised."
"Then I'd be the first one to run like hell!" the bearded man immediately laughed exaggeratedly.
"We're all buck naked here, so what are we supposed to fight a minotaur with? Our teeth?"
Felix shook his head. "You couldn't escape anyway, Ronald. You're a priest of Lathander.
Demons hate you most of all. You'd be its first target."
"Then I have no choice but to pray for the Morninglord to grant me supreme divine power and wage a glorious holy war against the minotaur."
Not only did Ronald's eyes show no fear, but he suddenly stood up from the water and actually made a gesture with both arms raised upward, as if embracing the dawn in prayer.
"Praise the Morninglord!"
"So... why are we bathing in a bathhouse?" Orum asked with half-lidded eyes.
"Because this is a tradition the captain established! Before every long mission, we take a bath in the bathhouse to loosen our muscles and bond as brothers!"
The man named Ronald laughed heartily as he sat back down in the water, splashing up a big wave, then slapped Orum's well-defined shoulder hard with one hand:
"How about it, genius newcomer? Feeling pretty awkward being naked with us crude old men? Don't worry! You'll learn to love this feeling!"
"I'm getting used to it." In his previous life, during his four years at university, Orum had always used the communal showers. He'd long since developed iron immunity to being naked around other men.
Orum's gaze lingered on this overly-familiar man before him.
The brown-haired, bearded man named Ronald had a somewhat irreverent air about him.
When he smiled, he reminded Orum a lot of Star-Lord from the Marvel movies.
He had no airs about him and spoke with humor. It was hard to imagine he was actually a priest who also worked as a doctor healing the sick.
However, considering the god Ronald worshipped (Lathander), his lively and cheerful personality made perfect sense.
Lathander, the Morninglord, neutral good alignment, greater deity.
His divine portfolio included: spring, dawn, birth, renewal, creativity, youth, vitality, self-perfection, athletics, and more.
One could say that Lathander was the very embodiment of "energetic" and "vigorous."
Ronald was even a bit older than Felix, just turning thirty.
Though still quite young, he was already a renowned priest in Blackwater Town.
His good deeds saving lives and healing the wounded were well-spoken-of among the townspeople.
Orum recalled Felix's earlier introduction. Supposedly, Ronald had once met Lathander in a dream. This connection with the divine made his healing prayers exceptionally powerful, far surpassing ordinary priests.
This also meant that Ronald's earlier boast about "requesting divine power for holy war," while it sounded like a joke, was something... he might actually be able to pull off!
"Orum, I'm a priest. If you ever have any little aches or pains, snake bites, don't try to tough it out and keep quiet about it. I can heal you."
As Ronald gave this advice, his eyes turned to gaze resentfully at another, deeper pool not far ahead.
Through the rising steam, Orum could vaguely make out a mountain-like, hulking black silhouette sitting silently in the water.
That highly distinctive build let Orum recognize at a glance that it was Raygore bathing in the other pool.
"Raygore especially loves to bottle up his injuries and tough them out, claiming it's to toughen his body."
Ronald snorted at this. "Half-orc brains really are all muscle."
"Why does Vice-Captain Raygore always wear his helmet? I've never seen him take it off," Orum asked, remembering this detail.
To this day, Orum still hadn't seen what lay beneath Raygore's mask, and couldn't help but feel curious.
"Because he's so ugly that he'd scare people if he didn't wear the helmet," Ronald answered.
"To maintain the Ice Hawks' image, the captain makes him keep the helmet on all the time."
"Wait, does that mean Vice-Captain Raygore is considered the ugliest even among half-orcs?" Orum was somewhat taken aback.
"No, young Orum. Looking across all intelligent creatures on the entire Material Plane, he could probably secure a solid spot in the top ten ugliest."
A flash of fear suddenly appeared in Ronald's eyes, as if recalling some terrible scene.
He lowered his voice, as if still shaken:
"Half a year ago, I saw his face once. It gave me nightmares for three days."
"Is it really that bad?!" Orum's worldview took a massive hit.
"Ronald, your description is overly exaggerated." Felix's voice drifted over lazily. He frowned and interrupted,
"Raygore isn't ugly to that degree."
He paused, then added in a matter-of-fact tone: "At most, he'd only give you nightmares for one day."
"That's... really something," Orum said, struggling to keep his expression steady.
With a look of quiet pity, he gazed toward Raygore's towering, solitary silhouette in the distance.
...
This was the second day after Orum and Felix had met.
This was the underground hot spring bathhouse of the Dragon's Heart Emerald Inn.
Such an expensive facility had been lavishly purchased by Felix, who'd bought out two sections specifically for the adventuring party's bathing activities.
Currently present in the hot spring bathhouse were only four people: Orum, Ronald, Felix, and Raygore. But this wasn't the full strength of the Ice Hawks.
Orum had seen the team roster on the contract. There were nine members total, and with him that made exactly ten.
But the other six were either still on missions or had other important matters, so the current team configuration consisted of only four members.
After bathing ended, Felix began directing his teammates to load the essential luggage for their mission onto a spacious four-wheeled transport wagon.
The wagon's design was quite plain: common multi-spoke wheels, metal axles that reinforced the structure, and a canopy over the rear half that could shield from wind and rain while blocking sight.
Two fine horses were dressed in the simplest horse cloths, making them immediately look much bulkier and duller-eyed, no different from the most ordinary nags.
At a glance, this wagon looked no different from an ordinary merchant caravan wagon, except for a flag hanging on its side bearing the Ice Hawks' emblem.
This was Captain Felix's style. He detested outside attention and chose to keep a low profile when going out on missions, avoiding drawing notice.
Unless one was an adventurer familiar with guild emblems, no one would guess that this plain wagon belonged to the ace adventuring party, the Ice Hawks.
The interior design was very practical, divided into upper and lower levels.
The lower level was a spacious cabin nearly two meters high, providing a resting place for members during the journey. The upper level was a half-meter-high storage compartment for various luggage.
Separating the two levels was a heavy wooden partition board. In the center of the partition was an openable trapdoor.
By standing on protrusions on either side of the cabin and coordinating with another person, luggage could quickly be moved into the upper level or brought down.
Of course, this was designed for people of normal height. For Raygore, who stood over two and a half meters tall, it wasn't so troublesome.
He only needed to stand in the cabin to stuff luggage piece by piece into the upper storage compartment by himself.
With everything ready, it was time to hit the road.
"According to the map, we'll travel for a day, camp at midnight, set out again at dawn, and arrive at the target village tomorrow noon."
Ronald tucked the map into his pocket, securing it carefully, then came to the driver's position at the front of the wagon and expertly checked the reins and harness.
Orum didn't have driving skills, but Raygore, Felix, and Ronald all knew how to drive a wagon.
"Orum, you should learn how to drive a wagon from Ronald for a while. Master this survival skill, it'll be very helpful for your future adventuring career."
After instructing Orum, Felix settled cross-legged in the cabin and closed his eyes in meditation.
As he meditated, his closed eyelids glowed faintly, ice-blue radiance shining through the slits.
A cold chill silently spread, and the temperature in the cabin dropped several degrees.
This was the Greymane family's hereditary meditation method, which could help activate the silver dragon bloodline within. Felix meditated for more than five hours every day.
He'd maintained this diligent practice for twenty-four years.
Feeling the chill, Raygore, huddled in a corner of the cabin with his knees drawn up, seemed to have prepared for this. He covered his massive body with a blanket to ward off the cold.
Then his head, encased in that fierce iron mask, drooped heavily to one side. He'd actually fallen asleep.
"I knew it! These two called me over just to make me their coachman."
Ronald glanced back into the cabin and muttered curses in dialect for a bit, possibly profanity.
After venting, Ronald turned to Orum: "Young Orum, come with me. I'll teach you the first step of driving."
So saying, Ronald jumped down from the wagon.
Orum followed behind and watched Ronald walk to the wheel on the side of the wagon and press a thick wooden lever all the way down.
"See that? This is called the brake lever. It's used to lock the axle. Before starting, you must press it all the way down like this to release the axle.
Otherwise, when the horses suddenly exert force, at best the horses will strain themselves, at worst the wagon will crash and people will die. Got it?" Ronald's teaching was unexpectedly thorough and patient.
Orum stared at that simple lever and nodded seriously: "Got it."
After pressing down the brake lever, Ronald and Orum returned to the driver's platform.
Back in the driver's seat, Ronald gripped the reins firmly, thrust both arms forward, and let out a short, forceful shout:
"Hya!"
The two horses whinnied low, their four hooves exerting force as they pulled the heavy wagon slowly out of the Dragon's Heart Emerald Inn's rear courtyard and merged into Blackwater Town's streets.
After traveling through the town for a few minutes, their speed gradually increased.
As Ronald skillfully controlled the reins, he began teaching Orum on the spot:
"Watch carefully. The key to driving two horses is balance. You need to use subtle wrist pressure to feel the rhythm of both horses, ensuring their pace is perfectly synchronized. That's how you keep the wagon from veering off course."
"See, right now the left horse is half a step ahead."
He tightened the left rein slightly. "Give it a signal to slow down. It's just that simple."
Over the rest of the journey, Ronald explained many practical techniques in accessible terms, from how to use momentum when going uphill, to anti-slip tricks for muddy roads in the rain, even including emergency protocols for when horses get spooked.
The wagon soon passed through Blackwater Town's tall walls. The city's clamor was left behind, and the surrounding scenery suddenly turned desolate.
Ronald drove the wagon to a stop in front of a shabby inn outside town.
Rather than calling it an inn, it was more like a giant cattle shed.
The walls were rammed earth mixed with straw, and a nauseating stench of manure assaulted the nostrils.
Inside was a common sleeping platform with no partitions. The so-called beds were just piles of hay on the ground with a layer of worn burlap or animal hide laid on top as a mattress.
This could accommodate a dozen or so people sleeping inside.
A crooked wooden board served as a sign, with a few barely legible Common words carved into it: Grass Inn.
This was Blackwater Town's cheapest inn. For one copper piece, you could stay three nights. Some people too poor to afford food would barely lodge here until they found work.
Or ragged refugees would also choose to stay here. Compared to sleeping outdoors, at least it had a roof to shelter from wind and rain.
"The villager witness mentioned in the mission intel is staying here."
As Ronald spoke, he deftly brought the wagon to a steady stop, tied up the horses, and with a "click," firmly locked the brake lever.
In Orum's mind surfaced the detailed mission commission content Felix had shown him:
[Commission: Exterminate Goblin Group in Locke Village]
[Mission Content: Recently, Locke Village has been attacked by goblins, approximately 15 in number, with no elite individuals.]
[The goblins stole the village's captive sheep flock, causing one person severe injury. No deaths or abductions occurred.]
[A villager named Reed claims these goblins fell to the ground from a black portal, but this claim has no actual evidence.]
[This extremely panicked villager believes the goblins will attack again, so he fled the village and came to Blackwater Town with his family seeking shelter.]
[Meanwhile, the village chief of Locke Village wrote a letter that was sent along with the commission payment. When the letter reached Blackwater Town, the Adventurers' Hall immediately posted the mission.]
[Goblin extermination reward: 5 gold coins (paid by Locke Village)]
[Additional reward for each goblin's right ear: 2 silver coins]
Recalling the mission information, Orum formed a general impression of this villager who'd brought his whole family and insisted on fleeing his homeland.
Apart from the loss of the sheep flock, this goblin attack had only caused one person severe injury. For a village, this couldn't really be called catastrophic.
Just one severe injury, such a threat wasn't even as scary as a wolf pack or a fierce tiger.
When Reed fled, the village chief and others must have tried to persuade him that adventurers would soon come to exterminate the goblins. Yet he still fled in panic.
Even willing to stay in a place like the Grass Inn, Reed still chose to leave his homeland. This was clearly abnormal.
So then, in that moment when the goblins arrived,
What exactly did Reed see?