The entrance to Carne Village stood just as Sakeer remembered it.
The wooden fence encircling the village remained unchanged from his last visit—still offering little in terms of actual defense.
His arrival did not go unnoticed.
Whispers spread through the villagers, especially among the women, who had already taken a keen interest in the sight of him helping the eldest daughter of the Emmot family carry weeds.
For a village with few sources of entertainment, this was a rare and juicy topic of gossip.
Three figures walked along the village path, heading deeper into the settlement.
Sakeer turned to the man beside him.
"I'll have to trouble you again this time, Village Chief," he said politely.
"No need to be so formal, Your Excellency."
The village chief, a dark-skinned man, spoke quickly, shaking his head. Though slightly surprised by Sakeer's return, there was no trace of impatience in his tone—only respect.
"The room has been cleaned for a while now," the village chief continued. "It's the same one you stayed in last time."
Sakeer's steps paused ever so slightly before resuming as if nothing had happened.
Has the room been cleaned in advance?
That was an unexpected detail.
His gaze flickered to the man walking slightly behind the village chief—a middle-aged villager with a bow slung over his back.
Something was off.
The man's right hand swung naturally with his stride, but his left hand, positioned away from Sakeer's line of sight, remained pressed against his waist.
Sakeer could sense his unease.
The man's gaze frequently darted toward the Barghest following at Sakeer's side.
Does he recognize it?
Sakeer searched his memory.
If he recalled correctly, Carne Village had only one resident with a combat profession—a man named Latimon.
Judging by the bow and arrows on his back, this middle-aged man had to be him.
A few thoughts passed through Sakeer's mind before he casually shifted the conversation.
"Has anyone else visited the village recently?" he asked the village chief, feigning curiosity.
It was unlikely that the village chief had expected Sakeer to return.
If he had prepared a room in advance, it could only mean someone else had been staying there.
"Yes," the village chief nodded.
"Several teams of adventurers have passed through recently. They only stayed for a night before hurrying off."
Sakeer's eyes flickered.
He already had a guess.
"Do you know what they were here for?"
The village chief let out a hearty laugh, deep wrinkles forming on his face.
"Adventurers are important people—it's not our place to ask about their business. We wouldn't know even if we tried."
Sakeer raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed.
A clever response.
This was how civilians survived—by keeping their heads down and avoiding unnecessary trouble.
Even though the village chief's words offered no direct information, the implications were obvious.
Carne was a border village, rarely visited by outsiders. Yet suddenly, multiple adventurer teams had come through?
There was only one likely reason—his recent activities in the forest had drawn attention.
Sakeer stepped through the door of his assigned lodging.
The room had been cleaned meticulously—not a single trace of dust remained. Even the cobwebs from the beams above had been removed.
He exhaled softly.
"Awoo."
At his feet, the Barghest perked up, its gaze flickering around as it curiously took in its surroundings.
Sakeer glanced down at it, his voice calm but firm.
"When there are outsiders around, don't make unnecessary noise."
The creature stiffened.
"Woo..."
It shrunk its neck slightly and lowered its ears, obediently acknowledging his words.
Sakeer allowed himself a small nod.
Most monsters weren't particularly intelligent.
But over the time they had spent together, he had come to realize—this little Barghest was much smarter than expected.
As long as the task wasn't too complex, this little Barghest could fully understand it.
Sakeer extended his hand into the void.
A goblin corpse materialized in his grasp before he casually tossed it toward the little Barghest.
"Tonight's dinner."
The creature's eyes gleamed as it sniffed the offering, its tail flicking excitedly.
After escorting Sakeer to his lodging, the village chief and Latimon made their way back, their boots sinking slightly into the village's uneven dirt path.
The hearty smile that had been on the village chief's face was now gone, replaced by a deep furrow of concern.
"What exactly has been going on in the forest lately?" he asked, his voice quiet and serious.
Silence followed.
After a few moments, the village chief frowned.
"Why so quiet today?" he muttered, casting a sidelong glance at Latimon. "You usually have plenty to say."
Latimon's grip on his bow tightened slightly.
"It's that Magical Beasts," he finally admitted, his voice tinged with unease.
"What?" The village chief looked puzzled, as if he hadn't quite heard him right.
Latimon swallowed before speaking again.
"That creature following him—it's a Barghest."
The village chief blinked, trying to process the words.
"A what?"
Latimon turned to him, his face paler than before.
"A monster far more dangerous than an ogre," he explained, lowering his voice as if afraid the creature would hear him. "According to the Adventurer's Guild difficulty ratings, it ranks at an alarming 45."
The village chief's brow creased.
"That number mean something?"
Latimon exhaled, trying to compose himself.
The difficulty rating was a standardized measure used by the Adventurer's Guild to classify monsters based on their threat level.
For comparison—an average adult man was rated at just three.
As a hunter, Latimon spent most of his time gathering herbs and hunting small game on the outskirts of the Great Forest of Tob. He was also responsible for taking the village's surplus wheat and other goods to E-Rantel for trade.
Because of this, he had far more knowledge of adventurers and their world than most villagers.
"Village Chief," he said gravely, "that man—he's not an adventurer."
The village chief's eyes narrowed slightly.
Latimon glanced back subtly toward the house Sakeer had entered before continuing,
"No matter their rank, all adventurers carry a metal identification tag. He had none."
And that wasn't all.
The man's jet-black hair—a rare trait in these parts—along with the Barghest pup by his side...
Something about him felt dangerous.
Click.
A light footstep echoed through the quiet street.
Latimon immediately shut his mouth, his instincts on high alert.
Both he and the village chief turned toward the source of the sound.
They saw a young girl approaching, carefully balancing a wooden tray in her hands.
The village chief's expression softened as he recognized her.
"Where are you off to, Enri?" he asked kindly.
The girl stopped in her tracks, glancing up at them with wide eyes.
"Village Chief. Uncle Latimon," she greeted them quickly, her cheeks flushing slightly before she hesitated. "My mother asked me to bring some food to the adventurer... as a thank-you for helping earlier."
Latimon's gaze drifted to the tray.
A steaming bowl of bean soup sat atop it, the scent of diced meat wafting through the air. Beside it was a plate of freshly shelled nuts.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Since when was Emmot so generous?" he muttered half-jokingly, letting out a short whistle.
The village chief chuckled and gave Enri a small wave.
"Go on, then."
The girl nodded respectfully before hurrying along toward Sakeer's lodging.
Latimon watched her go before exhaling sharply.
"Village Chief—" he started again.
But this time, the older man lifted a hand, silencing him before he could continue.
"Calm down, Latimon," he said in a quiet, measured tone. "This is his second time coming to our village."
Latimon fell silent, mulling over those words.
After a moment, he muttered, "Should we go to E-Rantel? I have a bad feeling. Something's happening in the forest... and we don't know what."
The village chief didn't respond right away.
His gaze lingered on the path ahead, watching as Enri disappeared around the corner.
Then, with a faint sigh, he resumed walking—his expression unreadable.