Dunul was small, even by the standards of villages. It had a little over 150 inhabitants, who survived mainly by gathering herbs and mushrooms to make portions, as well as small-scale farming, hunting in the dense forests that surrounded the village, and fishing in the river Lirna, whose course stretched from the ocean to the village of Dunul and then to the more central regions of the continent.
The village was also surrounded by a wooden palisade, which didn't look very sturdy, but it was better than nothing.
Walking through the muddy, shabby streets with Rolan, Arthur could see that many of the houses were empty and seemed to have been badly damaged by flames.
"We suffered a goblin attack a few weeks ago," Rolan spoke, noticing Arthur's vision hovering over the destroyed houses. "Baron Greg took almost all of the soldiers stationed by Albrid with him on that damned expedition, all that was left was a small militia that was unable to effectively stop the attack..."
"We lost more than 50 people in that battle," Rolan concluded with bitterness in his voice.
"Ah... I understand..." Arthur replied, his vision flowing to a fenced-off area that seemed to be some kind of cemetery.
"What is the connection between this village and Albrid? Conrad told me it was a colony." A doubt arose in Arthur's mind, some of the buildings here seemed to be hundreds of years old, unlike what would be expected in a colony established a few decades ago.
Hearing this question, Rolan's steps stopped, and he looked thoughtful for a few seconds before he replied, "It's complicated and I have to go back thousands of years to tell you this story."
"Let's sit over there for a while first, my legs are killing me," Rolan pointed to a small bench in the shade of a tree with green leaves and yellowish fruit.
"'Okay," Arthur nodded, and as soon as they were seated, Rolan began to speak.
"About 3,000 years ago, the ancestors of the human kingdoms, as well as those of all the races that dominate the western continent, joined together in a great expedition to the central lands," Rolan said as he pulled a small metal flask from his shirt pocket and took a long swig.
"Unfortunately, things went wrong... Only 10 years after the first colonizers arrived here, there was the great collapse and the Dark Age that devastated the entire world and caused much of the knowledge of these races to be lost in time."
"We lost the technology needed to travel between the two continents, and before we knew it, we had been separated for thousands of years. Or at least we were until Albrid was able to create a new kind of ship, a ship that could make the crossing." Rolan took another sip from the flask and offered some to Arthur, who listened curiously to the story and politely declined.
"Dunul was founded over 2900 years ago and was once one of the greatest cities this continent has ever seen. Unfortunately, time passed, and we fell into ruins, swallowed by a dungeon, and trapped underground. After thousands of years of decay, all that remains is this small village, which was conquered by Albrid about 10 years ago." A little anger and resentment rose in Rolan's voice as he mentioned the last sentence of the story.
Swallowed by a dungeon? Could it be...' Arthur repeated to himself as he remembered the ruins of the city inside the dungeon where he arrived in this world; if his assumptions were correct, that city was Dunul, or at least what Dunul used to be.
[You discover an important part of the history of this world, +1 prestige].
Seeing the system warning appear in his vision, Arthur's eyes lit up, but he soon wiped away the excitement and looked at Rolan.
"You don't seem to like Albrid very much," Arthur remarked, noting the clear dislike in Rolan's voice whenever he mentioned the Albrid Empire.
"Why should I? We share the same ancestors, but we embrace our traditions and our gods, despite all the darkness. Albrid spat on everything our people once stood for, and with Greg's arrival, they tried to force us to spit on it all and embrace their god, Aelius." Rolan said with deep scorn in his voice, remembering the fateful day when Greg killed his former lord in a duel to the death and was made Baron of Dunul.
"Greg was an honorable man, but not the man I believe should rule this village. I will not miss his death."
" I wouldn't miss a man who spat on everything my people stand for either..." Arthur shook his head in agreement with Rolan's words.
"Didn't you ever think of taking up arms and fighting for freedom?" Arthur asked, remembering the colonization of his inner world.
"I have, more times than I can count. But I got old, and I'm not even a warrior. Fighting would only condemn my people to death..." Rolan let a hoarse grunt escape his old lips as he stood up. "Enough stories for today, I'll show you the place you'll be staying and a person who can help you advance to the second level."
The village had only a little more than 50 houses, with a mansion in the center, which Arthur assumed belonged to the lord of the village, which helped make their walk very short.
"They'll be choosing someone to replace Greg soon, they're talking about a young man, not much older than you. Another damned Aelius fanatic to torment our people." Rolan gritted his teeth, noticing Arthur's gaze fall on the mansion, "What do you think of that?"
"I am not a religious man," Arthur replied honestly, "and I have no sympathy for fanatics." The young man remembered Gabriel and the fanaticism and madness in his voice as he cried out the name of Aelius.
God of light or darkness, it didn't matter to Arthur. The virtuosity of the heart and mind is worth more than the virtuosity of the soul.
"Hahaha" Rolan laughed and placed one of his hands on Arthur's shoulders in a sign of appreciation, "That's a good answer, boy, better than I could have imagined coming from someone I believe to be from Albrid.
"Anyway, we're here," Rolan stopped his steps and pointed to a small house, completely made of some kind of black wood and covered with yellowish straw, not very different from all the others in the village.
In front of it was a small garden surrounded by an old, rotten wooden fence. Its door seemed to be bent and creaked, almost falling as Roland pushed it open, revealing its interior, which, like the exterior, was simple and unremarkable.
The living room and kitchen were connected, separated only by a single wooden balcony. In the living room, there was a black sofa with an aged, torn look and a small table in front of it. There was no dining table or even chairs. As for the kitchen, to Arthur's surprise, it also seemed to have clear water from a faucet and a stove, similar to the one he had found in the city inside the dungeon.
There were also two doors, one in the living room leading to the only bedroom in the house, and one in the kitchen leading to the bathroom.
It was certainly much better than Arthur had expected.
"We haven't cleaned it for a few months, so it's a little dirty, but it just needs a little cleaning," Rolan said, turning to Arthur, "You can stay here as long as you like, I won't be needing this house anymore."
Hearing this, Arthur's eyes widened in surprise, and he didn't even know how to thank him. He thought that Rolan would let him stay for a few nights until he made his breakthrough and then he would have to leave, and he had not expected these words.
"Uh... thank you," Arthur thanked him awkwardly.
"That's nothing, son, you don't know how valuable this necklace is to me and my wife..." Rolan smiled, but there was no happiness in his voice or face. Although he tried to hide behind a strong, objective stance, it was clear to any observer that he was in deep pain and struggling not to show such weakness in front of Arthur.
"Ah..." Rolan sighed, "I must leave now, I will ask the head of the guard to come and visit you, he will help you advance to the second stage." Rolan spoke before turning and leaving, not even waiting for Arthur's reply, who just stood there, watching the old man's back move away and the door close, leaving him alone in that place.
In the end, he could only shake his head, not quite sure what this breakthrough meant other than allowing him to climb up to break the level 20 claymore.
Looking at the mess around him, Arthur grabbed a broom from one of the corners of the kitchen and began to clean up. He didn't know if he'd be there for long, but he'd rather be in a clean place if he was.