An uneventful night brought Malin some disappointment; he had already prepared a hundred ways to die for any would-be assailants. The entire second floor, from the rooftop skylight to the hallway, was filled with various traps, either capable of pulverizing a person or causing severe injuries that made life worse than death. If there had been a jungle, Malin could even have set up spring-loaded nail boards, the nails coated with silver and lead.
But on second thought, peace was always a blessing.
So, after clearing away the traps and repairing the walls, Malin and the girls descended the stairs, bid farewell to the innkeeper, and then got onto the carriage.
The mercenaries had long been ready, and the Dwarf once again expressed his gratitude to Malin—his leg showed no sign of trouble while walking.
Malin responded with a smile and advised him that it would be wise to walk less for the sake of properly healing the injury.
