The Lonely Wife of the Village
Gulp, gulp... drip.
"Phew..."
The canteen I had filled to the brim was already empty.
"This is only making me thirstier."
I shoved the hollow canteen back into my backpack and scanned the horizon. There wasn't a single trace of the village the peddler had mentioned earlier, drawing a heavy sigh from my lips.
I absolutely loathed sleeping rough. Even after spending over five years as a wandering mercenary, I could never get used to sleeping under the stars—a miserable reality poorly disguised by the romantic word 'camping.'
No matter how thoroughly you prepared, the hard ground was still the hard ground. I'd heard that with the kind of magical items nobles used, sleeping outdoors felt more like a luxury retreat. It really made you realize that only the penniless dregs of society truly suffered.
Cursing this godforsaken world, I trudged endlessly in the direction the peddler had pointed until a faint, flickering light finally caught my eye.
Before I knew it, evening had fallen, painting the sky in a deep, bloody crimson. If I had arrived just a bit earlier, I could have easily slipped past the damn guards. What a pain.
As I approached the village gate, two burly guards lazily lowered their spears in my direction, blocking my path.
"State your business."
With the sun already setting, they seemed to have mutually agreed to run a half-assed inspection and just let me through. Since it wasn't a completely tiny village, causing a scene would be troublesome, and getting into a pointless argument sounded exhausting. I decided to play along with the guards' little game.
"I'm just a traveler," I replied. "I plan to stay for a few days before moving on, so you have nothing to worry about."
When dealing with country-bumpkin guards, speaking politely was essential; it puffed up their chests and made them feel important. As one of them held out his hand, I placed my mercenary license along with fifty coppers onto his palm, and slipped the same amount to his partner. Deciding they didn't need to squeeze me for any more, the guard who glanced at my license handed it back with a greasy smirk.
"Well, well. Thanks to a Silver-rank Mercenary sir, we'll be having a nice drink tonight. Much appreciated."
"If you head toward the fountain in the center of the village, you'll find an inn. Tell them Hellman sent you, and they'll set you up with a clean bed."
Their patronizing advice was irritating, but I was too exhausted to care. I nodded half-heartedly and asked about what I actually wanted to know.
"I might end up staying longer than expected. Is there a cheaper alternative to the inn?"
At the mention of a cheaper option, the two put their heads together, whispering before breaking into sly, knowing grins.
"Well, there are some folks in town who are pretty hard up for cash," one whispered. "Go straight past the fountain, and you'll find a cluster of houses. Why don't you try your luck over there? Heheh."
"Once you get a taste of our village women, you won't be able to get them out of your head. Hahaha!"
It was a crude piece of advice, but useful nonetheless. I gave them a brief nod and walked past them into the village.
The village was surprisingly spacious and well-maintained. Passing by women fetching water for the evening and locals heading to the taverns, I made my way to the fountain the guard had mentioned.
They even have a fountain, and torches lit all over the place. The Village Chief must actually put some effort into managing this place, I thought.
Most miserable backwater villages were utterly neglected. Since this region was far from the capital and major cities, it was only natural for the infrastructure to be underdeveloped.
In a proper city, a single silver coin could get you a comfortable room at an inn. In these wretched villages, however, the greedy locals would try to charge you a silver just to sleep in a stable. Whenever that happened, I usually ended up stuffing those bastards headfirst into their own feeding troughs.
I kept walking toward the deepest, most secluded corner of the residential area. The houses near the fountain were neatly built without a single broken plank, but the deeper I went, the more dilapidated the structures became. Soon, creaking floorboards and miserable, run-down shacks began to appear here and there.
Then, a particular house caught my eye. I stopped in my tracks and surveyed its exterior. Though tucked away in the absolute furthest corner of the slums, the house was remarkably clean and structurally sound.
While it was possible the owner simply took meticulous care of it, my mercenary instincts told me otherwise. It felt as though someone had recently been forced by circumstance to build their home in this wretched spot.
Having made up my mind, I stepped up to the door and knocked politely twice.
Knock, knock.
I sensed only a single presence inside. At the sound of my knock, the presence began to approach the door. Judging by the footsteps, they were moving in a hurried, almost frantic rush.
Creaaak.
A woman cautiously peeked her head out. Her appearance was immediately to my liking.
She had faded golden hair pinned up in a loose bun that looked like it would cascade down to her waist if let free, revealing a smooth, elegant neck that was rare for a country woman. Her tightly pressed lips and sharp, defined nose were the hallmarks of a classic beauty, hard to find even in the capital. On top of that, perhaps because she had been preparing for bed, she wore a thin beige dress that clung to her voluptuous curves, stirring a sudden wave of lust within me in the dark of the night.
Perhaps noticing my intense gaze, she raised her hand from the doorknob to cover her chest, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe to steady herself. A faint blue bruise was visible on her wrist. She spoke abruptly.
"What business do you have at this hour? If you're looking for my husband, he's probably at the tavern."
She seemed to assume I had come with business for her husband. I shook my head slightly and offered a polite greeting.
"Good evening. I'm actually just a passing traveler. I plan to stay in this village for a while, but my budget doesn't quite allow for a long stay at the inn. If you have a spare room, would it be possible for me to lodge here for a few days? I can compensate you handsomely."
I pulled a small pouch from my breast pocket and let her catch a glimpse of it. Seeing its substantial weight, a flicker of desire danced in her eyes, but she quickly shook her head and firmly declined.
"I'm afraid I can't make such a decision without my husband. Besides, the house is small and tucked away in a bad spot. It's not a suitable place for a traveler to stay. I'm sorry."
Normally, I would have given up and left, but perhaps because I had been traveling alone for so long, my desires had built up. The way she pressed her arms against her chest only served to squeeze her ample cleavage, making the soft flesh spilling over the fabric look incredibly enticing. I couldn't bring myself to walk away, my eyes locked onto her magnificent chest.
"U-Um..."
Had I been staring too blatantly? The woman pulled her arms even tighter around herself, her face flushing red as she tried to speak. However, her hesitation only confirmed my suspicions. The fact that she reacted with shy embarrassment rather than outrage, even while feeling a strange, burly man's lustful gaze on her, was proof enough that she was starved for attention herself.
Just then, a dragging sound scraped against the dirt, followed by a loud shout from behind me.
"Hey!!! Who the hell are you, standing in front of my house?"
I turned around to see a man limping toward me, dragging one leg while pointing an accusing finger.
His face was flushed beet-red from alcohol, and he dragged his bloated, sluggish body toward me with heavy, uneven steps. As I stood there silently sizing him up, the cripple, clearly displeased by my lack of response, began poking me in the chest with his dirty finger, spitting as he yelled.
"Why are you at my house?! What were you doing calling out another man's wife?! I'm asking you a question!"
He was obviously a pathetic, drunken cripple who squandered his money and lived day-to-day on cheap booze. But with my lust already fully stoked by his wife, a brilliant idea flashed through my mind. I smiled, grabbed the finger that was poking my chest, and forced his hand open, turning his palm upward. The man grunted, trying to resist my grip.
"Wh-What are you—?!"
I placed the heavy coin pouch I was holding into his open palm. The man froze in confusion, but as the sheer weight of the coins registered, the corners of his mouth twitched upward into a grin. I spoke smoothly.
"I'm just a traveler. I was asking your wife if I could lodge here for a few days. I plan to stay for a short while. Would this amount be sufficient?"
Thrilled by the weight of the pouch, the man barely even listened to my explanation. Completely ignoring his wife's wishes, he nodded eagerly.
"Of course, of course! Make yourself at home. Just pay extra for meals, hehe..."
"Wait a minute! Honey, we only have one bedroom!"
Clearly, this wasn't the first time her husband had made a selfish, unilateral decision. The woman's face flushed with anger as she raised her voice at him.
The husband flinched slightly, muttering, "Well, that's..." before quickly losing his temper again and shouting back.
"Then we'll just give him the room and figure something else out! Who do you think you are, raising your voice at me?! Shut your mouth!"
He raised a hand as if to strike her, but the alcohol had dulled his reflexes, causing him to swing wildly and miss. The clumsy miss only fueled his rage. Glaring at his wife, he wound up to swing at her with all his might.
I wasn't about to let a perfect opportunity like this go to waste. Stepping forward, I caught his wrist mid-air and squeezed hard.
"Agh...!"
"I'd rather not cause a scene so late at night," I said smoothly. "I'll discuss the details with your wife. Why don't you go out and enjoy yourself with that money?"
Too drunk to properly assess the situation, the moment I released his wrist, his face lit up with a foolish grin at the mention of 'enjoying himself.'
Judging by the way he spoke and treated his wife, it was obvious they hadn't shared a bed in a very long time, and the rift between them ran incredibly deep.
Which was perfect for me.
He shook out his sore wrist, barked a final order at his wife, and began limping back toward the tavern.
"Anyway, you handle it! I'm going to go multiply this money, so make sure you treat our guest well while I'm gone!"
"Honey! Wait, honey...!"
Deep down, both the husband and the wife had to know. They might try to deny it to themselves, but there was no hiding the fact that a portion of that money was essentially a transaction for her body. No matter how drunk or foolish a man was, leaving a healthy, virile young man alone in a house with his wife overnight made the implications crystal clear.
Realizing this, the woman's body began to tremble slightly. It was a tremor born of a chaotic storm of emotions.
The fear of being forced to spend the night with a complete stranger against her will; the burning resentment toward a husband who completely ignored her voice; the sheer terror of a man who looked at her with blatant lust while handing over a sum of money far exceeding any standard lodging fee. Her emotions chased each other in a vicious, endless loop, like a snake biting its own tail.
When I reached out and gently placed my hand on her shoulder, her trembling grew even more violent. However, I had no desire to see her consumed entirely by fear. To truly ignite the passion of a ripe, mature married woman, one had to replace her terror with raw, burning lust.
"Please, do not worry, ma'am," I said softly. "You may sleep in your bedroom. As long as I have a place to sit, I will be perfectly fine spending the night out here. You must be terribly upset because of your husband. Let's head inside so you can rest."
I looked down at her with a look of genuine concern, my brow furrowed in pity, and her trembling slowly subsided. With a soft sigh, she bowed her head to apologize.
"No, it's... since it's come to this, I should be welcoming you properly, but my husband... *Sigh.* He didn't use to be like this. Time is a cruel thing."
"You two must have been together for quite some time," I remarked. "Though, looking at you, I would have guessed you were barely twenty-two..."
At my blatant flattery, a soft smile finally broke through her distress, and she waved her hand dismissively.
"Oh, stop it... I'm nearly thirty. But hearing that certainly makes me feel good."
"I'm serious. You truly look that young. When you first opened the door, I was actually quite nervous, thinking I had disturbed the daughter of some elderly couple."
"My goodness, you're quite the flatterer..."
As the compliments flowed, her tense emotions finally began to melt away. She playfully nudged my shoulder and gave me a light tap on the side as she led me into the house, our bodies brushing together in subtle, intimate contact.
I had successfully lowered her guard, though I was still a bit concerned that I had stared too obviously at the door earlier. Even so, my heart raced at the prospect of the exquisite feast laid out before me after such a long dry spell.
In this quiet house where her husband would not return tonight, I couldn't wait to see how I would savor this perfectly ripe, delicious woman.