Character Quest - Grace's Hometown 1

I had no idea how actual medieval slash-and-burn farming villages turned out, but Grace's hometown could objectively be called a fairly successful settlement.

Slash-and-burn farmers cut down forest trees, set the land ablaze, farmed the ashes until the soil's nutrients ran dry, then moved on. Grace's village, however, had drawn in all sorts of people — a former ranger here, a runaway blacksmith there — and they'd put down roots for good.

What had started as a wandering slash-and-burn settlement had become a pioneer village carving out the kingdom's outskirts. More people gathered, merchants smelling profit followed, and once a proper road opened, it would naturally grow into a small town.

If only there weren't any monsters.

"Today we're not exploring the tower — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we're heading out to complete a designated request."

"Hanna…"

The moment Han Sea declared this without a shred of hesitation as the party leader, having heard Alice and Grace out, kind-hearted Irene and even the blunt-but-good-natured Caden followed without question.

Grace's eyes welled up. Even though she'd left the village to find me, her heart had never truly left. I gently stroked her short hair in a reassuring gesture and spoke up myself.

"She's right. Taking the request and going won't make us late. You've been through this once before — you know that."

"Yeah… you're right."

The whole party, Han Sea, and even the viewers were of one mind.

No gamer would complain about the first character quest to appear during what had been nothing but tedious, repetitive grinding — and given Grace's sunny personality, she'd already become enormously popular with the viewers.

The busty archer noona, the priestess maman hiding her figure, the blunt crossdressing girl — every party member except me had racked up that kind of popularity. The chat united as one and started hounding Han Sea to comfort Grace more, just like I was doing.

Setup, development, conclusion: roast Han Sea, is that it?

A 3-star who was above average by anyone else's standards was the weakest member of Han Sea's party, so of course people got jealous. Ending up as the designated pity-baiter under the lazy username "yy" was probably the same logic. Han Sea seemed well aware that the viewers' reactions were pure jealousy and was milking it for all it was worth.

And so our party's destination was set.

"Then we should leave right away, but… how do we get there? Grace unnie, do we take a carriage or something?"

"Good point. I wonder if there's a carriage that goes toward our village…"

Han Sea's heart was racing ahead of her, but the reality was that this was her first request outside the tower. Alice, still at her post, watched that slightly dazed look and broke into a knowing grin. She was the kind of woman who took expensive desserts as bribes, doctored paperwork, and pocketed a tidy side income — but still.

"If you head to the east side of the city right now, a merchant caravan traveling east alongside the Adventurer's Guild should be preparing to depart. Tell them you're the adventurers I arranged to join them, hand over this document, and they'll put you on a carriage. Make sure you specifically say you're only going as far as Colmar County."

With that kind of competence, it was no wonder she'd become the queen bee who had the guild receptionists and office staff wrapped around her finger.

She thrust out a document she'd prepared in advance, as if she'd known all along that we'd take the request. Escort jobs for large caravans like this were usually locked in well ahead of time, so holding a spot until the day of departure showed some serious resourcefulness.

The escort request called for Intermediate Adventurers, and with me — an Advanced Adventurer — thrown in, the caravan was coming out ahead. A method that did Grace a favor while also guaranteeing a clear benefit for the caravan master. As I looked over the papers, Alice pulled out a heavy pouch and shoved it into Han Sea's hands.

"These are prototype rations the Innkeepers' Guild brought over, saying they wanted to sell them to adventurers heading out on long expeditions. You won't have time to stop by a general store, so take these and head straight for the east gate."

Han Sea just nodded blankly under the smooth cascade of Alice's instructions. A firm pat on the back finally snapped her back to her senses, and she hurried out of the guild. Alice watched us go with a satisfied smile.

It had been a long time since I'd been swept along by Alice like this, and old memories ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nearly came flooding back. Of course, there was no time to get sentimental — we made straight for the city's east gate.

"Caravan Master! Guests from the Adventurer's Guild have arrived!"

"Ohhh, I was quite worried you might not come — Sir Roland and Lady Hanna the mage?"

The man who greeted us was a plump, middle-aged fellow whose hair was starting to thin into a bald crown. His generous bulk seemed to advertise his own prosperity, and the moment he saw me he startled and offered a respectful hand.

According to the chat, he was the 2-Star 'Miser' Jean.

True to the star rank proving he had real ability, nearly twenty carriages stood packed with laborers making final preparations to depart. As the caravan's master, he clearly kept his information sharp — he recognized me and Han Sea, or more precisely, our entire party except Caden.

"I owed you a great debt last time against those wolf bastards! Ah, if only I weren't so busy, I'd have sat you down for a leisurely cup of tea."

"As far as Colmar County — we'll be in your care."

"I'm the one who should be saying that, shouldn't I? Having the city's heroes along puts my mind at ease."

Surely Alice hadn't calculated this far. After a brief chat about how our efforts had kept his goods intact and how his warehouse had nearly been a disaster, the caravan master assigned one of his workers as our guide. We were shown to a high-quality carriage of an entirely different class from the cargo wagons packed with laborers.

The carriage boasted enough room for all five of us with space to spare, and as it set off with a clatter of hooves, Grace spoke up.

"Everyone… thank you."

"You don't need to thank us. Taking requests is what adventurers do."

"Even so."

Now that the carriage was moving, she seemed to finally relax, offering a faint smile. Fair enough — with the years that had passed, the only people left in the village would be Grace's aging parents. If no new hands had been brought in, her father would have had to step up alongside the village's young men.

No matter that her father was a former ranger, coldly speaking, he was the kind of man who'd settled in a slash-and-burn village. He could handle goblins, sure — but orcs were another matter entirely.

Still, there was one thing I could count ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on. This wasn't some random misfortune — it was a quest Han Sea had received. And because it was a quest, I had faith that nothing would happen until we arrived. A slightly warped faith, rooted in the knowledge that this world had spun off from the game Heroes Chronicle.

Who would want a character quest where you arrive at the village to find nothing but ashes and Grace's parents reduced to corpses? No matter how freely novice adventurers dropped dead, the story itself wouldn't be that bleak.

"So, how long to Colmar County?"

"When I came to the city, it took about three days."

As I was thinking that over, the three of them started chatting among themselves. Sitting side by side with Grace in the middle, the two on either side worked hard to lighten the mood. Caden, princess on the inside but presenting as a man on the outside, sat next to me.

I listened to their chatter in silence and, pretending to zone out, opened the broadcast board. Honestly, how had I ever spent days on end staring blankly out of a carriage window before I had this?

The way college students look back on waking up at six in the morning as high schoolers with a kind of awe — now that I could browse the broadcast board, I couldn't help but feel the same about the version of myself who'd lived ten years cut off from modern civilization.

Irene was saying she'd seen wild strawberries for sale but had never seen an actual wild strawberry vine outside, and Grace found that fascinating. Sandwiched between them, Han Sea — a country village girl herself who somehow knew nothing about wild berries — laughed awkwardly.

Thinking what a deliberately difficult game this was for its players, I leisurely opened the posts one by one. With the viewer count climbing, more people were writing up the broadcast content on the board in real time.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The most numerous posts were humor pieces bundled with photos of soldiers standing night watch. With two nights and three full days of carriage travel ahead, people were predicting that Han Sea would have to set up a watch rotation too. Fair enough — outside the city, there were no safe zones like the ones inside the tower.

Stray monsters felt a lot like wild animals. Even if a mountain range was considered safe, a black bear that wandered out of its habitat could still tear through the surrounding area.

You'd think you were deep inside the kingdom, in some quiet mountain valley — and then stray goblins or orcs would come crawling in. If you were truly unlucky, ogres in heat would go berserk and rampage all the way into other mountain ranges. And mixed in among them, every so often, you'd find human criminals instead of monsters.

"Hey! I was born and raised in Seoul, okay? I'm a Seoul country girl. What, just because you're from Gangwon or Gyeonggi, you're telling me your backyard had wild strawberry bushes and all that? Make some sense. Back when you were sucking honey off easy livi— uh, looking at my stream, you seem a bit advanced in years for this, sir."

Aside from the night-watch talk, the posts that stood out were stories of what viewers had experienced outside the city. The certification shots of people who'd charged out of the city bare-handed thinking it was just a game, only to live through a full primitive-survival experience, were particularly memorable.

I was deep into reading the board when Han Sea, who'd been waiting for her opening, launched a counterattack on the viewers. She timed the strike for the moment Irene was clasping Grace's hands and offering a prayer.

The chat went absolutely feral, delighted that there was now someone else to roast besides Han Sea. Viewers denying reality and insisting they weren't old at all, viewers needling her about whether the honey-sucking generation had carried book satchels to national elementary school — bloodthirsty piranhas, hungry hyenas, the metaphors fit perfectly.

Seoul, Gyeonggi Province, honey-sucking flower buds, book satchels, national elementary school versus regular elementary school… the outside world seemed endlessly similar to the one I'd known.

As I was thinking that, the carriage came to a stop.