Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

Fifteen Gold Coins for outsiders, but only two Silver Coins for locals—a seventy-five-fold markup. To call it a rip-off would be an understatement.

What an outrageous price!

Ron took the vial he’d just acquired—it was no taller than the top joint of his index finger—and opened it with extreme care, afraid of spilling even a single drop.

He sniffed the fragrance and examined the liquid’s color. Ron couldn’t discern much from it, but one thing was certain: the shopkeeper was still making a profit.

”How else do you think Rose City developed?” Aive chuckled. ”It’s a shame the spice market here was already saturated by the time I was a kid. Otherwise, if you’d moved here to get into this business, with your alchemy skills and knowledge, you’d be rolling in it, wouldn’t you?”

”I doubt it,” Ron said with a smile, capping the bottle of rose oil. ”If I were selling this, the most I could charge for a bottle would be fifteen Copper Coins.”

After rounding two more street corners, they saw a tavern with a style that stood in stark contrast to the other buildings in the city. Ron and his companions knew they had arrived.

In Rose City, the Night Wind Tavern stood on a corner of a bustling street. Its walls were covered in a lush and diverse array of climbing vines, arranged in a particular pattern. Some were in bloom, and as Ron’s group drew near, they could smell a delicate fragrance, a far cry from the cheap, cloying perfumes of the city outside.

Like most taverns in this world, the Night Wind Tavern had two floors: the tavern proper on the ground floor, and guest rooms on the second. But the decor here revealed the owner’s distinct taste and flair. The furnishings were elegant and chic, with vibrant draperies hanging on the walls and exquisite, translucent glass chandeliers illuminating the entire space.

Ascending the spiral staircase to the second floor, Ron felt as if he had stepped into an Elven kingdom rather than a tavern in the middle of bustling Rose City. Every guest room was exquisitely appointed, with fine furniture and soft beds that made one feel right at home. He wandered into one room and saw that the patterns carved into the window lattice seemed to pulse with a magical Spiritual Light. Touching the frame caused the view outside the window to transform—from the city’s busy streets to a serene and elegant forest, and then to a deep, brilliant starry sky. The myriad changes were enough to make any guest forget their worldly troubles and drift off into a sweet, peaceful sleep.

”Those are the finest guest rooms here,” Aive said with a smile. ”An uncle of mine did the Enchantment for free. He was a Mage in the Elf Resistance Army and was a very dear friend of my mother’s.”

”Mom? Dad? I’m home!”

Aive searched high and low throughout the tavern, calling out for them. Finally, in response to her persistent shouts, an Elven woman with long, messy, pale-gold hair emerged from a previously locked room, gathering her locks.

Following close behind her was a gaunt man who looked somewhat disheveled.

From the man’s features and build, Ron guessed he must have been quite handsome in his youth. But...

Time can be a cruel butcher, but it’s not the only one.

”Aive! Where have you been for so long? Your father missed you terribly!” The man looked at Aive as if she were his savior. He rushed forward and threw his arms around his daughter, ignoring the heavy armor she was still wearing. ”My precious girl, are you hurt? Are you thirsty? Hungry? Have you lost weight? How did the commission go?”

In contrast to the man’s effusive concern, Aive’s Elven mother seemed somewhat aloof. ”She’s back now, isn’t she? She was only gone for a few days. You’re making such a fuss.”

”Aive, why don’t you entertain your new friends? Your father and I still have... uh, some accounts to go over. We’ll join you in a little while—”

”What accounts?!” the man stomped his foot. ”Liya, our girl’s commission was a mission to Cloud Port! She’s been gone for months!”

”You and your friends go have a seat downstairs! I’ll cook for you myself today and show you what I can do!”

Before Aive or the others could reply, the middle-aged man zipped downstairs and headed straight for the kitchen.

”My parents are both fantastic cooks. When the Night Wind first opened, they handled everything themselves,” Aive said, gesturing for them to follow. ”Come on, I’ll take you to my ’private booth’! No matter how busy it gets, they always keep a table free for us!”

Once Ron and the others were seated, Aive’s mother, Liya, pulled over a stool and joined them at the table. Elves have long lifespans and barely seem to age, so with Liya and Aive sitting together, they looked less like mother and daughter and more like sisters—in fact, Aive almost looked the elder of the two.

”You must be Aive’s new companions, then?” Liya asked, looking over Ron’s group. ”I met the teammates she left with. You weren’t among them.”

”They died, just like the spice merchant,” Aive said with a sigh. ”The route he planned was too perilous—we faced natural disasters, human treachery, and a goblin ambush. If it wasn’t for Ron, I’d probably have died in a goblin dungeon.”

”Oh, and Delaford helped too. I owe my survival to him as well,” Aive added, making a point to mention him.

Elves are slow to make friends and even slower to make enemies. Forgetting either takes longer still. They treat minor offenses with disdain and repay grave insults with relentless vengeance. If Aive hadn’t added that last part, Liya’s attitude toward the Goblin Hunter would surely have been cold.

”I see,” Liya said with a nod. She extended a hand to Ron. ”Humans and Elves are, for the most part, steadfast allies. I am pleased that you were so honorable and brave as to save my daughter from such peril.”

”As for you...” Liya’s gaze fell on the goblin. ”If you can promise to keep yourself clean every day, then I will be happy to have you as a guest.”

”Hey! I protest!” Delaford leaped to his feet, but his objection was overruled.

”And who are the rest of you?”

Aive introduced her companions one by one, but Liya’s expression remained largely unchanged. She seemed accustomed to her daughter introducing new batches of teammates.

Only when her eyes fell on the giant sword on Sera’s back did Liya’s expression finally shift.

”The Grip of the Vast Wave, is it not? I hope I’m not mistaken on the name.”

”You recognize this sword?” Sera asked, startled. ”Then do you know who Rusaike Xue Ming is?”

”Of course. The sword’s master. A Beastman, and a hero,” Liya said, her expression turning nostalgic. ”I was young when she was active, but she was the first to raise the banner of rebellion against the Hailan Empire’s tyranny. She led the Beastmen and Half-Beastmen in a revolt against the empire when it was at the height of its power.”

”Although the rebellion ultimately failed, she managed to take the empire’s Chief Grand Mage, Jilannis Galanord, down with her. Her Two-Handed Giant Sword vanished after her fall. I never imagined I would see it here.”