"We need a guide, someone who knows the Foggy Forest." The smoker spoke plainly to Bartlett after seeing him sit down: "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, you can call me 'Oak' or Old Will, whichever you prefer. A name is just something to use when greeting each other, no need to pay too much attention to it."
The not-too-old-looking Old Will took a firm drag from his pipe. The compressed tobacco within the pipe glowed, and a cloud of white smoke emerged from his nostrils. The not-too-overwhelming tobacco sparkled with a touch of peculiar spice, slowly diffusing into the surrounding air.
"Bartlett, Bartlett Mungo." The barbarian introduced himself. "You can also call me 'Feeder', if you know that nickname."
"Mungo? Nordic People?" Old Will questioned.
Bartlett nodded, no need to deduce from his last name. Just by looking at the tattoo on his forehead, anyone could tell of his Nordic heritage.
"I visited Norde when I was young. At that time, the king of Norde was... let me think." Old Will reminisced, "Yes, it was Ragnar III, people called him 'Bearslayer Ragnar'. I heard his favorite thing to do was to enter the Arena of Beasts and duel with wild bears."
Ragnar III? Bartlett knew him, the strong king with exceptional martial skills, who liked to personally fight various beasts. Each time, he was the undisputed winner. Although he was mediocre in governing the country, he won over all the Nordics with his martial prowess. It's a pity he died young in an accidental drowning, a loss deeply felt by the Nordics.
However, that king's reign had been over a century ago, and Bartlett suspected the man in front of him was talking nonsense. Unless, he really was a mage.
"Now the throne is occupied by his grandson..." Bartlett informed.
"The king? It doesn't really matter who's sitting on it," Old Will was non-committal. "Who knows, maybe one day it'll be you sitting there."
Bartlett ignored the obviously teasing remark. More importantly, he didn't like the idea of being king. The responsibilities of a husband already made him apprehensive, let alone being king.
"I really miss the taste of your reindeer meat, served with sour cream, and the caramel-flavored dry cheese from there." Old Will took another puff from his pipe. "And of course, who could forget the pickled salmon? I must say that only a true gourmet could appreciate the unique deliciousness amidst the pickling brine."
Old Will's words made Bartlett feel a sense of familiarity, as if he had encountered a fellow countryman who truly understood Nordic cuisine.
"Even many local Nordics can't accept the peculiar taste of pickled salmon." Bartlett smiled, but he personally loved it, had loved it since he was a child, because his father loved it too.
"That's nothing compared to Ika City's traditional delicacy, 'Stinky Head Fish'. Once you've tasted it, your taste buds will reach a whole new level, where pickled salmon is but a minor player."
...
Old Will and Bartlett chatted about Nordic customs, food culture, and so on, creating a friendly and harmonious atmosphere. Then he returned to the main topic, "I heard the 'Foggy Forest' is dangerous?"
Very dangerous! The place is teeming with a variety of creatures as diverse as a pot of complex stew. You could find anything you've ever seen, heard, dreamt of, and even things you've never dreamt of inside. Bartlett thought to himself.
"Yes." He answered, "The word 'dangerous' hardly does it justice. If it were up to me, I'd prefer to describe it as 'eerie'."
"Seems like you know it quite well?" Old Will asked again.
Understand it? No, nobody could truly understand it. Bartlett inwardly joked. He just fed it more often and had given more 'food', so 'it' wasn't unfamiliar with him, that's all.
"Not really," the barbarian replied.
"Hey, boss, give me another bowl!" The Ogre beside them suddenly shouted in a deep voice. It pulled a piece of pig lung stuck in its teeth and examined it carefully before putting it back into its mouth, chewing it slowly.
It seemed to enjoy the "delicacy" of stewed pig offal very much.
The half-elf was talking to the surrounding adventurers, and after a while, the crowd gradually dispersed with disappointment on their faces. Some adventurers tried to slander Bartlett with the nickname 'Feeder' in the hope that the group would reconsider their choice.
Well, that wasn't really slander since the things they said did happen.
After dispersing the crowd, the half-elf returned to the stall and sat beside Bartlett. An attractive smile hung on the handsome face of the half-elf, but unfortunately, Bartlett wasn't attracted at all since he wasn't a female.
If you become a guest of those desperate noblewomen, I bet you'd do well, Bartlett thought with slight malice.
"After you finish talking, I will introduce you to our team briefly," the handsome man said to Bartlett.
You chose me, but I never agreed! The pleasant conversation atmosphere prevented Bartlett from getting angry, but he felt puzzled. Were these people so sure that he would join them?
"It seems like you don't have any new jobs recently, do you? And you seem to be confused about certain things." There was a gentle smile on Old Will's face.
His words startled Bartlett internally. "Confused? Haha, I just can't decide what to eat for lunch." He stubbornly denied, "Stewed pork might be a good choice, but I don't want to eat the same thing for lunch three days in a row."
"Is that really all?" Old Will stared at Bartlett with a penetrating gaze and exhaled a puff of smoke.
Blurred by the smoke, the barbarian's expression unconsciously shifted. The bizarre incident that occurred to Bartlett made him feel somewhat frightened, sensitive, and guilty...
"Well, I indeed don't have any jobs now." He admitted the first half of the sentence.
"In that case, why not help us and find your direction in the adventure, and discover yourself. I can see that you're not the kind of person who can comprehend certain truths through simple thinking alone. Of course, I don't mean anything else by saying that."
Is he saying that I'm simple-minded? Has he figured me out? How does he know? Right, he's a mage, and he's probing my thoughts! Bartlett clutched his "Steel Bride" with his left hand, looking somewhat tense, "Did you cast a spell on me?"
"Spell? No, no, no." Old Will laughed heartily and didn't take offense to Bartlett's threatening gesture, "Although spells are powerful, 'experience' isn't much weaker, especially in 'seeing through people's hearts'. If you'd lived for 200 years and had seen people and things as numerous as herring in the sea, you'd find that many people are constantly revealing their secrets to others through their expressions and actions."
"But I did cast a spell on you. I apologize for that." Old Will's tone changed, causing Bartlett's just-calmed heart to race again, "But you don't need to worry, it's just a modified 'Suggestive Skill' that won't make you change any of your thoughts. It will only help you to be more determined in your most honest thoughts when you're hesitating. That's all. As for what that thought is, only you know."
After finishing, Old Will calmly looked at Bartlett and kept smoking his pipe.
"My thoughts?" Bartlett removed his hand from his sword hilt.
"Your thoughts," the half-elf repeats by his side.
Bartlett hesitated, wandered, doubted, and even felt a trace of fear. Old Will's words left him in a mess. He didn't know how to choose. The scene quieted down, even the ogre stopped eating, apparently waiting for his answer as well.
Time passed, and suddenly Old Will laughed and extended his hand, "Welcome to join us!" The smile was very comforting, "By the way, our team is called 'Vulgar Novel', a great team."
Bartlett looked at Old Will's right hand, which he extended from his cloak. It had two silver rings, one with a vertical pupil-like amber gemstone, while the other was covered with pale gold patterns like those on Old Will's cloak.
The barbarian shrugged his shoulders and firmly gripped Old Will's hand.
...