As Larius made his way through the narrow alleys leading to a small hotel on the outskirts of the village, he sensed something unusual in the air. The wind was howling through the surrounding trees, as if it carried with it mysterious whispers. He paused for a moment on the threshold, listening to the faint sounds drifting from within the hotel.
Inside, the lighting was dim, and the air had a musty, old smell. Nothing seemed suspicious at first, but there was an odd feeling in the atmosphere. He approached the reception desk where the hotel owner, an elderly man with a long white beard and mysterious eyes, greeted him with a friendly smile. The old man gestured toward a room on the upper floor.
As Larius made his way to his room, he noticed unusual movement at the back door. An elderly man, who appeared ordinary at first glance, entered the hotel carrying a heavy bag. But as soon as Larius saw him, he felt something different. The old man approached him and spoke quietly:
"If you wish to strengthen your sword, you must begin by strengthening your soul."
Larius couldn't respond before the old man disappeared into the shadows that filled the corner. The old man's words echoed in his mind as he walked to his room, and a strange feeling lingered, as if there was more to those words than met the eye.
That night, the hotel was quiet, but there was an unsettling stillness beneath the calm. The next morning, as Larius packed his things to prepare for departure, the strange feeling in the air persisted. The silence seemed out of place.
Outside the hotel, Larius noticed a group of suspicious men gathered near the back door, among them tired children who caught the attention of passersby. It was clear they were gathering the children to take them somewhere.
Suddenly, one of the men noticed him. His eyes held a sinister look, and he whispered something to the others in his group. They began to approach him swiftly, but Larius had already decided to intervene. He struck the ground with his boot, then charged toward the men. Before they could do anything, he knocked one of them down with a powerful blow, sending the other fleeing.
At that moment, the leader of the gang, watching from a distance, stood before a large caravan filled with soldiers and goods. The caravan was moving toward the other side of the village, and the men spoke calmly, believing that Larius posed no threat. But Larius, with a smirk on his face, decided to follow them.
As he made his way into a nearby tavern, he found a group of rebels gathered inside, watching the strangers closely. It was obvious that these traders were part of something bigger, part of a wide network of criminals. The eyes of the group were on Larius as he entered. One of them muttered:
"We haven't had any trouble since we came to this village. I don't think we need to worry about this mercenary."
But their leader was smarter than that. He glanced briefly at Larius and said, "It doesn't matter. The important thing is to keep him away from our path."
Larius had heard those words clearly. And with a desire to put an end to this criminal gang, he knew that facing them wouldn't be easy. At the same time, doubts lingered in his mind about his past and the mystery surrounding it.
As the caravan moved toward the eastern outskirts of the village, Larius waited in the shadows, his eyes glinting with intensity. Now, he had to decide—would he continue pursuing this gang, or would he try to find the old man whose cryptic words might be the key to unlocking the mystery behind everything?
As time passed, the daylight faded, leaving the village in darkness, and the next chapter of this unexpected battle began...