My intuition failed me. Not only did they not give me anything, but they took away most of the items I had honestly looted yesterday. Although, they did give me quite decent boots in place of my light sandals.
"If you die, all this will be lost. At least this way, you'll pay back the food and time I've spent on you," Viziliy commented on the robbery.
Is that an argument? It is.
It was a bit awkward when, forgetting myself, I unloaded the redhead's lingerie from yesterday. I had to briefly explain how it came into my possession. I hope they believed me.
"Don't sigh like that," Lynch patted me on the shoulder. "The more space in your inventory, the more loot you can steal from the dead."
Yeah, tell me stories... Your inventory is definitely bigger, and I'm far from your speed in grabbing boxes. By the way!
"Does the inventory size grow with level?"
"A little," Viziliy said, stuffing his bag with useful things for the journey, "but mainly it's increased by killing members of other races."
Aha! I froze, realizing this point. Seems like another advantage of my ability to change appearance. Yesterday I killed a human and got nothing for it. But if I had turned into a hobbit, the inventory size would have increased. Hmm, very interesting...
"How much does it increase? And can you get anything else from intelligent beings?"
"Son," Viziliy looked at me, "such thoughts usually lead to the gallows..."
"Oh, look who's talking," Lynch laughed and winked at me. "The tougher the one you kill, the more it will grow. And from all intelligent beings, even your own race, after the fifteenth level, a box drops that might contain something very valuable!"
"Or to a ditch with a slit throat," the old man grumbled and moved on to packing food.
***
"Let's show the kid around."
We walked through the village, and Viziliy kept answering the same questions over and over.
Speaking of kid, boy, and son. Before leaving, I looked at myself more closely in the reflection in a barrel and realized that I really look much younger in this world. At most eighteen years old, which, incidentally, corresponded to the moment of initiation and getting the first level for the locals.
Opposite the tavern, we were stopped by a plump man with signs of severe hangover on his face. Viziliy managed to whisper that this was Vilsh, Sinila's father and the uncle of the guy killed by the pockmarked man.
"Is this him?"
The man poked a fat finger at me.
"It is," the old man nodded.
"Thank you, lad!" Vilsh grabbed my hand in his and began to shake it. "I couldn't sleep when I thought that scum would go unpunished. From now on, you'll always have a discount at my tavern!"
"Thank you (you could, given the circumstances, feed me for free)!"
Behind the man, the door creaked, and I managed to catch the gaze of Sinila, who had poked her head out.
"We need to go."
Lynch carefully but firmly pushed Vilsh aside, and we walked towards the open gates.
"By the way, what can you buy for a gold coin?" I asked and kicked a small stone lying in the dust out of boredom.
"You can get a girl in the city," Lynch chuckled.
"For a gold coin, he'll only get someone my age," Viziliy grimaced. "You can eat and have some beer in a village like ours for five silver coins. For the same amount, you can rent a bed covered with straw for the night. And to buy good clothes, you need thousands of gold coins or good loot to exchange."
"And what's considered 'good'?"
"You'll get it, I'll tell you."
***
Soon the village disappeared from view, and when the cultivated and planted land ended, we abruptly turned off the road and went through a field.
In the company of the two locals, I completely relaxed and just enjoyed the sky, the air, and the springy earth under my feet. Then I came to my senses and, taking out my sword, began to swing it.
"What are you doing?" Viziliy inquired.
"Practicing strikes."
"To practice strikes, you need to know them," he smirked. "You're just wasting energy before a fight."
"How far do we have to go?" I asked, embarrassedly putting away the sword.
"About three hours, if nothing happens on the way. And why did you put away the sword?! Since you're restless, let me show you a couple of strikes."
Nothing supernatural happened on the way. At least according to my companions. But we were attacked five times by three or four small hryuks. As we had agreed in advance, Viziliy and Lynch reduced the number to two, and then stood aside and helped me finish off the rest with advice.
I tried to strike as my new mentor had shown, but it didn't always work out. Rather, only three times did I manage to hit in a way that didn't elicit rather dubious comments and jibes.
"Why are you hitting them like with a sledgehammer?!" After I had struggled to take down another mutant pig, Viziliy approached me. "Look, I'm showing you for the last time!"
***
Two hours after we left the village, the hryuks stopped appearing, and the overall atmosphere changed. The grass cover became sparser and drier, butterflies and other insects disappeared, and bird songs were not heard. However, my companions paid no attention to this and continued to trudge on confidently.
"How quickly can you gain levels?" I asked, taking advantage of the opportunity.
"Complete decent quests and kill strong monsters," Lynch acted as Captain Obvious.
"What do you mean by 'decent'?" I clarified just in case.
"Well, um..." the big man scratched his head. "If a woodcutter asks you to chop wood, don't agree. You'll just waste time."
That's logical.
"And how do you improve characteristics?"
"Improve what?"
Both interlocutors looked at me in surprise.
"Well... strength, dexterity, intelligence."
"I'm telling you — he's a fool."
Viziliy looked at Lynch and for clarity twirled his finger at his temple.
"Come on. He's not from around here," the big man stood up for me and turned to me. "To improve strength, you need to engage in heavy physical labor: swing a sword, dig the earth, chop wood, again. About dexterity, I'm not sure... Jumping, probably. If you want to improve intelligence, read books. My uncle, for instance... Smart as hell! Read all the books in Kipen. Even the ones without pictures!"
At the beginning of his speech, I thought that in this world, improvement comes through action, but by the end, I seriously doubted it.
"Are you saying there are no such parameters here?"
"What parameters?"
Hmm...
"Ah, I understand what he's talking about!" Viziliy suddenly spoke. "So, not a fool. About the development paths at the second level."
"Ah!" Lynch slapped his forehead. "Choose the Strongman! It's the best for humans."
"I don't understand anything, but it's very interesting."
"You'll understand at the second level," Viziliy waved it off.
"Are there things, artifacts, that you put on and become stronger?" I changed the subject.
"Weapons can be like that!" Lynch rolled his eyes dreamily. "Once I found an axe..."
"Stole," Viziliy corrected him. "I paid the guards a month's income for you then."
"Found!" the big man flared up. "Who knew its owner just went to take a dump in the bushes. Don't leave things on an ownerless cart."
"It was his cart..."
"Doesn't matter!" Lynch frowned. "Anyway, when you hit a tree with that axe, the strike becomes significantly stronger. It was even called the 'woodcutter's axe'. Eh..."
"Are there ones that make you stronger when you hit people?"
"There! Again planning to cut people," Viziliy shook his head.
"He's just asking," Lynch stood up for me again, seemingly liking that he could teach someone. "Orcs have such things, but human weapons are enhanced against other races or monsters..."
"Quiet!" Viziliy suddenly stopped. "Leave you two chatterboxes... You'll be eaten and won't even notice! Ilya, do you see anything unusual."
"Yes, there..." Lynch began.
"Quiet! I'm asking Ilya!"
A field like any other. I ran my eyes over it but didn't notice anything unusual. I looked more carefully the second time and found it.
"There, ears sticking out."
I pointed at something that looked like ears about twenty-five meters away from us.
"Finally," Viziliy sighed. "And do you know whose?"
"A hryuk's?"
"No."
"A wolf's?"
"No."
"A dead hryuk's or wolf's?" I showed wonders of analytics.
"Almost. It's a dead cow," the old man raised his finger instructively. "If you look closely, not only the ears give it away. There's also a greenish smoke above it."
To see it, I had to squat and lower my head. Indeed, against the light horizon, the cloud became noticeable.
"There are the same ones to the right and left of it!" I was happy that I managed to see them.
"What?!" Viziliy also squatted, but didn't look happy at all. "Damn it! Slowly back away."
But we didn't make it. The cows jumped up. Three of them. Well, damn... Skeletons covered with black half-decomposed skin with bones sticking out in places. Instead of eyes, there were hollows, toothy mouths wide open.
How did I see all this? Well, simply... They were approaching very quickly, lowering their horned heads!
"Ilya, put everything away! Your task is to survive!"
Yes? I put away the shield. It really wouldn't help much here. But I kept the sword. Somehow without it, everything looked completely hopeless...