The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Chapter 75: The Unfamiliar Quest (1) The Prompt



"That's good news," I replied, leaning back in my chair. "But you mentioned there's another problem?"

Alfred cleared his throat, his brow furrowing. "Yes, my lord. The tax payment period isn't due yet, but our funds are dwindling. Should I give the order to collect the taxes early?"

I shook my head. "No. Collecting taxes early would only hinder the progress we've been making. We can't afford to lose the trust and morale of the people now." I paused, considering our options. "Prepare a carriage and send a messenger to the auction house. I have an idea to secure the funds we need."

Alfred nodded, his relief palpable. "Understood, my lord. I'll see to it immediately." He bowed and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I let out a sigh and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes. The chair itself was a testament to my magic, improved with my [Chyrisus' Touch], now an exquisite piece of furniture with magical massaging properties.

As I relaxed, a sudden blue screen appeared before my eyes, even though they were closed. I opened them quickly, startled, and found the screen still hovering in front of me. It was a familiar sight, yet utterly strange in this context. I rubbed my eyes, but the screen remained.

[Side Quest: The Queen's Dream]

I frowned, staring at the floating text. This wasn't a quest I remembered from my days developing the game before I was pulled into this world as Draven. What was going on?

I reached out instinctively, trying to touch the screen that looks slightly different from the previous ones, but my hand passed through it. The text shimmered and then transformed, presenting a new prompt.

[Choose your gears]

A catalog filled with various armors and equipment materialized in front of me. Each item was intricately detailed, from the polished steel of knight's armor to the shadowy garb of an assassin. The variety was overwhelming,

"What is this?" I said aloud, my voice echoing slightly in the empty room. "Can I choose everything?" I muttered to myself, eyeing the array of choices. But I knew better. Selecting the right gear was crucial.

I took a deep breath and focused. I needed to be prepared for anything, and versatility was key. After a moment of browsing, I settled on a set of assassin-like equipment. A deep hood to shroud my face in shadows, paired with a subtle mask for anonymity. Dark metallic armor with sharp, gothic motifs protected my chest, complemented by spiked pauldrons and claw-like gauntlets.

Underneath, a black tunic allowed for silent movement, and a long, flowing cloak concealed my tools and gear. Segmented greaves and sturdy, silent boots protected my legs, and two slender, curved blades sheathed at my sides completed the look. Crafted from non-reflective metal, these weapons were ideal for swift, precise strikes.

Satisfied with my choice, I confirmed my selection mentally. Instantly, the scene shifted again. I felt a sensation akin to teleportation, a disorienting whoosh that left me momentarily off-balance.

When the world stabilized around me, I found myself standing at the edge of a village in the middle of a desert. The sun blazed overhead, the heat radiating off the sand and making the air shimmer. The village was small, with a few modest buildings clustered together, their walls made of sun-baked clay.

The residents, dressed in light, flowing garments to protect against the sun, moved about their business, seemingly unaware of my sudden appearance.

I adjusted my cloak, ensuring it covered my form completely to blend in as much as possible. The desert heat was oppressive, but my enchanted gear regulated my body temperature, keeping me comfortable. I began walking toward the village, my eyes scanning for any signs of immediate danger or recognition.

A group of children ran past me, laughing and playing, their carefree demeanor a stark contrast to my own wariness. I observed them closely, noting their appearances and behaviors. The children were dressed in simple, light-colored tunics, their clothing loose and flowing to combat the heat.

Despite the harsh environment, their garments were clean and well-maintained, indicating a community that valued cleanliness and order.

Their skin was tanned from the relentless sun, but they appeared healthy and well-nourished. This suggested that, despite its remote location, the village of Tal'Verin was prosperous enough to provide for its youngest members. The children's laughter was genuine, free from the burdens of fear or hunger.

I noted the absence of any visible injuries or signs of malnutrition, further confirming the village's relative stability.

As they continued their game, I saw one child glance in my direction, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly looked away. This fleeting moment of curiosity hinted that outsiders were a rare sight in this village. The children's initial reaction to my presence was not one of fear but of fascination, suggesting that they were not accustomed to strangers but did not perceive them as a threat.

Satisfied that the children posed no immediate danger and had provided valuable insights into the village's well-being, I continued my approach toward the nearest building.

A woman stepped out, carrying a basket of dates. She looked up and met my gaze, her eyes widening slightly before she composed herself. I observed her closely, analyzing every detail. Her clothing was similar to the children's—light and flowing, designed to protect against the sun.

However, her attire was more elaborate, with intricate embroidery along the edges, indicating her higher status or perhaps a role of importance within the community.

Her hands were calloused, with faint lines of wear, suggesting a life of labor. Yet, her nails were clean and well-kept, hinting at a certain level of pride and self-respect. The basket she carried was filled with dates, each fruit plump and ripe, indicative of a successful harvest. This supported the earlier information about the farmers reporting better yields.

The woman's initial reaction to me—surprise, quickly masked by composure—revealed her cautious nature. She was not easily intimidated, suggesting inner strength and resilience. "Greetings, traveler," she said cautiously. "You seem to be from far away. What brings you to our village?"

I bowed my head slightly, adopting a respectful tone. "I am a wanderer seeking refuge and perhaps some information. This place is unfamiliar to me. Can you tell me where I am?"

The woman hesitated, then nodded. "You are in the village of Tal'Verin, on the edge of the Vast Desert. It's rare to see travelers here, especially ones dressed as you are." She eyed my attire with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

"I assure you, I mean no harm," I said, my voice calm and steady. "I am merely passing through and seeking knowledge of the land."

She seemed to relax a bit at my words. "Very well. If you need food or water, the inn can provide you with some. It's just down this path." She pointed toward a larger building at the center of the village.

"Thank you," I replied, inclining my head again. "Your kindness is appreciated."

As I made my way to the inn, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. This village, the quest, the sudden teleportation—it all felt too orchestrated. I needed to figure out what was happening and why I was here.

Upon entering the inn, I was greeted by the cool shade and the smell of spices. The innkeeper, a burly man with a thick beard, looked up from behind the counter. I observed him carefully, noting the details that could reveal more about his character and the village itself.

The innkeeper's beard was well-kept, though streaked with grey, indicating both age and a certain level of grooming. His clothes were practical and sturdy, designed for hard work. The fabric was worn in places, suggesting long use, but clean, which spoke of a personal pride and discipline. His hands were large and calloused, with visible scars—marks of a life of labor and possibly conflict.

The inn itself was modest but well-maintained. The wooden beams overhead were polished, and the floor was swept clean. Shelves behind the counter were lined with various jars and bottles, each meticulously organized. This level of order suggested that the innkeeper was meticulous and valued precision.

"Welcome, traveler," he said gruffly. "What can I do for you?"

"I need some provisions and information about the area," I said, taking a seat at the bar. "I'm willing to pay for both."

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Information is free, as long as you're not asking for secrets. Provisions, however, will cost you."

I nodded, pulling out a few coins and placing them on the counter. "That's fair. Start with the information. What can you tell me about Tal'Verin and its surroundings?"

The innkeeper scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Tal'Verin is a quiet place, not much happens here. We're on the edge of the Vast Desert, as you've probably noticed. Most people here are farmers or traders. The biggest concern we have is the occasional sandstorm or bandit raid, but those have been less frequent lately."

"Less frequent?" I asked, my expression remaining composed. "Why is that?"

He shrugged. "Not sure. Some say it's because of the new Earl. He's been taking measures to secure the borders and keep the peace. Others think it's just luck."

I nodded, absorbing the information. "And what about this desert? Any notable landmarks or dangers I should be aware of?"

The innkeeper chuckled. "The whole desert is a danger if you're not prepared. But there are a few places of interest. The Oasis of Merith, for one. It's a haven for travelers, a place to rest and resupply. Then there's the Ruins of Zal'Rash, said to be haunted.

Not many go there, and those who do rarely come back."

"Interesting," I said, considering my next move. "Thank you for the information."

He nodded, scooping up the coins. "Stay safe out there, traveler. The desert is unforgiving."

I stood up and made my way out of the inn, my mind racing with possibilities. The Oasis of Merith and the Ruins of Zal'Rash—both sounded like places worth exploring. But first, I needed to understand more about this quest and why it had brought me here.

As I stepped outside, I took a moment to observe my surroundings more closely. The villagers moved with a sense of purpose, each action deliberate and efficient. The buildings, though modest, were well-maintained, suggesting a community that took pride in their home despite the harsh environment.

My eyes scanned the horizon, noting the way the desert stretched endlessly in every direction, a vast, uncharted expanse.

Information was key. I needed to learn as much as I could, not only about Tal'Verin but also about the quest that had seemingly transported me here. My cold, calm demeanor masked the flurry of thoughts racing through my mind. Every detail, every interaction could be a clue.

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