The massive oak gates of Oakhaven grew before us like monolithic guards to a completely different world. The city, hidden under a gigantic dome of barrier mana, buzzed with a chaotic hum. For an average peasant or a wandering merchant, Oakhaven was a terrifying anthill where one could lose their life for a pouch of coppers. For me, it was a perfectly designed hub – an ideal starting point to scale my influence.
When the Count's wagon finally stopped on a vast, paved square just behind the walls, Valerius exhaled with clear relief. He adjusted his dusty coat and approached me as I jumped to the ground. There was no shadow of aristocratic superiority in him anymore. There was only sincere human gratitude of someone who almost lost his life yesterday. "We are home. Without you, my children would not have a father today, and I would probably be just another rotting corpse on the Black Trail," the Count said quietly. He reached under his coat and pressed a small pouch into my hand. "Five silver coins, Dave. It is a fair payment for the escort and a solid bonus for saving my life".
I weighed the pouch in my hand, feeling the pleasant weight of the metal. I knew the hard realities of the local deflationary economy. In this world, an ordinary copper allowed a worker a cheap beer and lodging, and a hundred coppers made up one silver coin. Five pieces of silver for an average person meant a prosperous life for several long months. It was a great starting capital for me, allowing me to enter this city on my own terms without disturbing the market balance in any way.
"You are a reliable guy, Valerius. I value people who understand the worth of a kept word," I replied with a free Brazen chill, gathering the pouch into my pocket. "Take care of yourselves". I left the Count and his veterans behind, blending into the dense crowd on the streets. My first logical target was the local branch of the Seekers Guild. The building resembled a fortress, and inside it smelled of sour beer, old parchment, and wet iron. I saw a gigantic queue of adventurers crowding and pushing each other, trying to squeeze through to the main registers.
My pure logic instantly issued an unambiguous verdict: standing in this crowd and wasting valuable time was absolutely out of the question. I approached a side booth with a relaxed step, where an exhausted older clerk was sitting. I leaned against the wooden counter, sending her a charming smile, and smoothly slid a few coppers under her hand. "Good morning. I see you are terribly busy today," I began gently. "I would simply like to join the register, and I thought maybe we could handle this quickly, skipping all this tiring bureaucracy".
The magic of a small bribe in the bureaucratic world worked instantly. A daily wage worth the risk dropped into her drawer. The woman smiled with clear relief, and a moment later smoothly stamped my new copper seeker's pass without unnecessary questions. Pure time efficiency. With the document in my pocket, I headed straight for a signboard I had spotted in my notes. The "Golden Griffin" tavern. The interior was clean and smelled of roasted meat and oak. Elena bustled behind the massive counter – a young blonde in a simple corset dress, who despite clear fatigue sent me a warm, welcoming smile.
"Welcome to the Griffin!" she said softly, wiping the counter. "I am Elena, the barmaid. Are you looking for food or a room for the night, traveler?". "I need your best, quiet room for the coming days, a bucket of hot water, and a solid meat roast," I answered politely, placing one shining silver coin on the oak counter. "The rest is yours. I value good service and no unnecessary questions". Elena literally froze. Her hand hung in the air. For a fraction of a second, she stared at the bright silver coin as if a dragon crystal had landed on her counter. In local taverns, mercenaries threw coppers and haggled over every penny. A tip worth almost a hundred coppers was something completely unimaginable for her. She blushed deeply with pure gratitude.
"S-sir... this is... thank you very much!" she stammered, hastily gathering the coin, and immense respect appeared in her eyes. "I promise you will lack nothing here!". I sat at a free table in the corner of the room. I had no intention of building any quick romance with her. I cared about a stable, slow, and intimate brotherhood, built on absolute loyalty and a sense of total security. A moment later, while waiting for my meal, my sharpened hearing caught an aggressive babble. A powerfully built thug with a dull badge of a local guild approached the counter. He smelled of sour alcohol and cheap sweat. With a vulgar guffaw, he extended a dirty paw, firmly and painfully grabbing the girl by the forearm.
"Listen here, doll. Maybe after your shift you will bring me a beer to my room upstairs, huh?. I will reward you properly for that," he growled sleazily, jerking her towards him. My Brazen chill did not waver even for a moment, but I felt that familiar, murderous spark in my chest. I did not get up from the table. I did not take my hands out of my pockets. I locked a fraction of my will in invisible, iron pincers and simply set raw, volitional telekinesis in motion. I hit him with a crushing spatial force from above.
The mercenary's voice broke off in the middle of a vulgar sentence. The drunk thug stiffened, and his joints let out a terrible snap under the influence of drastically increased gravity. A fraction of a second later, a powerful, focused physical force pressed him vertically into the wooden floor with a heavy roar. The guy did not even manage to scream. All the air escaped his lungs, and the immense pain of crushed joints deprived him of consciousness. He collapsed on the boards like a limp sack of flour, drooling on the boots of his own terrified buddies. The remaining mercenaries looked at their unconscious leader, turned pale, and retreated from the tavern in panic without a single word, stumbling over their own feet. Pure, dry trash utilization.
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Elena stared at me with wide-open eyes. When she approached my table with a smoking plate of hot roast, her hands still trembled slightly, but absolute relief and deep admiration painted her face. She leaned over the counter and lowered her tone. "Thank you," she whispered with gratitude. "You are different from everyone who comes here... Listen to me carefully. I noticed your pass. If you enter the dungeon and bring any valuable loot from there, avoid the Guild by a wide margin. They will rip murderous taxes off you. Hit the Lower City with the goods, ask around for Silas there. He pays reliably and does not ask unnecessary questions".
I nodded with a polite smile. Exactly what I needed. I ate a massive portion of meat in peace, feeling my Vessel taking in calories. It was time to check what clay the local undergrounds were made of. Half an hour later, I stood at the entrance to the City Dungeons of Oakhaven. I descended the wide stone stairs, entering the damp dark and the stench of mustiness. The first floor was full of wide catacombs. My senses immediately caught a team of terrified novices in the corridor who had fallen into a deadly trap. They were completely surrounded by a pack of Bone Crawlers – artificial constructs formed of yellowed bones, attacking from every side.
I walked towards them with a completely composed step. These were just trash mobs – garbage pawns unworthy of the slightest effort. I expanded my own aura for a fraction of a second and released a short, horizontal wave of focused physical force ahead of me. The spatial vibration struck with an invisible snap, hitting exactly the fragile connections and joints of the attacking skeletons. The constructs froze in mid-air. Their bones snapped under the push of force like old matches. In a fraction of a second, the entire pack of Crawlers turned into thick, black dust that fell soundlessly onto the wet floor, leaving behind only small, cloudy crystals.
I walked through the cloud of ash past the shocked novices, who were unable to even lower their shields. "Joints are always a construction flaw," I threw coldly into the space. "Keep your guard up". Going lower, I passed the second and third floors, effortlessly breaking the bones of anything that dared to step out of the shadows. My target was located on the fifth floor – in a circular, deserted amphitheater where the Obsidian Golem was supposed to reside. According to the notice boards, a fight with him for a lone warrior should be a tedious crushing of rock.
When I entered the arena, it was not like that at all. The underground decided to drop something completely unexpected on my head. The Golem rose from the piles of crushed basalt with a hollow rattle, but his armor was not simply black stone. The entire monster pulsed with aggressive red energy that formed an impenetrable barrier around him. An ordinary technical error that instantly turned a slow boss into an armored titan. When the Golem swung his colossal fist, I made no dodges. I hit him with pure force from a distance, but my push simply slid off his red shield with a loud squeak, leaving no scratch on it. He completely ignored blunt damage.
"Too thick for blunt force," I muttered with a cold assessment, evaluating it on pure logic. "I need sharp armor penetration". I extended both hands in front of me. My pores expanded, spitting out a thick stream of Sapphire Slime. The blue matter hissed under the influence of my brutal will. I formed and hardened it to the density of a razor-sharp diamond, creating powerful, curved claws on my hands in the form of Abyss Claw. I shortened the distance in the blink of an eye, entering deep close combat. The Golem lunged with another strike, but I dived under his falling paw. My murderous sapphire claws dug straight into the cracks in his red, faulty barrier. The slime ate into the monster's structure like rock-melting acid. With one powerful physical jerk, I tore the outer shell of the shield and broke through the solid rock of his torso. I drove the claws into the middle of his chest and with a loud grind directly pulled out his pulsating drive from the inside.
The Golem froze, and his red barrier burst like a soap bubble. The monster crumbled into a pile of smoking, useless ash. I stood in the middle of the floor, dispersing the Sapphire Slime and cooling my weaves. I looked at the massive Essence Core resting in my hand. I frowned immediately. This stone was not ordinary loot. On its smooth surface, glowing with heat, was a scratched, completely alien symbol resembling a twisted eye. This was no coincidence. It was evident seeding of a plague deep in the foundations of this place. I threw the stone into the pouch. A problem for later.
When an hour later I threw the proofs of killing the Obsidian Golem onto the oak desk of the Guild's Chief Overseer, the fat official simply froze in shock. He turned pale, staring at me, then at the papers, completely not believing his own eyes. The clearance time with which I cleared this floor and dealt with the modified boss absolutely destroyed any official records of veterans. With trembling, sweaty paws, he stamped the seal, paying me the copper reward coins and silently handing me an elite Pass confirming my rank.
I returned to the "Golden Griffin" in the early night, completely satisfied with the performed management of my time and muscles. Elena was waiting with a hot, smoking roast and a bucket of clean water in my rented room. After the meal, I rested in silence, lying on the hard bed. Then my natural spatial imagination caught a hollow resonance. Knock. Knock. Knock. The sound came centrally from behind the thick oak wainscoting next to the window. My old gamer instinct immediately threw a clear message: Easter Egg.
I got up quietly. I focused a needle-thin thread of telekinesis on the board and with a quiet, dry snap I tore out the mechanism of a stash hidden in the wall, locked years ago. Behind the hidden panel lay a dusty leather pouch. Inside I found a few old, matte coins and a thin ring hiding footsteps. Free, classic loot for nosiness. A perfect closure to this intense day in Oakhaven, dense with physics and combat. I blew out the candle, finally allowing my weaves to enter a steady standby mode. A meeting with the black market awaited me tomorrow.