“Leave it to me!”
After thinking for a long while, Helen came out with this confident declaration.
It seemed he wanted to show off a bit, but the motion tugged at the unhealed wound on his shoulder.
He winced, his whole body stiffening for a moment.
Aurelia saw everything, but she didn’t call out the boy’s bravado.
She simply nodded.
“Alright. Then… I’ll have to trouble you to lead the way.”
Helen grinned, as if the pain had instead sparked his determination.
“It’s nothing, Sister Lia. I know a few places on the docks… They look unremarkable, but as long as you pay, they don’t ask many questions about where you came from. We’ll take the outermost edge of the main road. There are more people, but it’s the shortest route, and we can avoid the alleys where there’s more trouble and danger at night.”
As he spoke, he carefully secured the still-unconscious Little Priestess onto his back.
He adjusted his posture to minimize the pressure on his shoulder wound.
Aurelia grabbed the water skin again and followed Helen as they left the dilapidated Warehouse.
Leaving the abandoned Warehouse behind, they merged back into the noisy streets of the Dock District.
Just as Helen had said, they didn’t duck into any more dark, twisting alleys.
Instead, they chose to walk along the edge of the relatively open main road where the crowds were starting to grow.
The area was filled with laborers hauling goods, vendors hawking snacks, hurried sailors and merchants, and squads of City Guard patrols with synchronized steps and sharp gazes.
Blending into the crowd, their group—three people in rags, one clearly injured and another being carried—was still somewhat conspicuous, but it was much better than being in the alleys.
Of course, Aurelia kept her head low, using her loose hair to cover the bandage on her neck as much as possible.
Helen also hurried his pace, looking straight ahead.
After walking for about 10 minutes and passing through several streets filled with the mixed scents of fish, spices, and waste, Helen slowed down at a fork in the road.
This area was further from the main port; the buildings were denser and lower, and the streets were much narrower.
He looked left and right, his gaze locking onto the entrance of a side alley.
The alley was narrow and dim, with unknown sewage flowing across the ground.
A crooked wooden sign hung at the entrance, its writing nearly illegible.
A blurry image that looked like both a wine glass and a bed was painted on it in crude strokes.
Below the sign was a small wooden door with peeling paint.
The lintel was low, requiring one to duck slightly to enter.
There was no shop sign, only a dirty, empty wine barrel sitting by the door as a silent marker.
“This is it,” Helen whispered to Aurelia, his eyes warily scanning their surroundings.
“On the surface, it’s a tavern, but there are a few small rooms in the back. The boss only cares about money. As long as you give him enough, he won’t ask questions or cause trouble. I used to… deliver things here for my older brother.”
Aurelia looked at the unremarkable, even shabby door and nodded.
‘Ho… this place really has the vibe of a secret base. This kid probably knows a lot more than what he’s letting on.’
“Is there a secret signal?”
Helen turned back in surprise, then shook his head.
“No, just follow me.”
He took a deep breath and stepped forward, pushing open the heavy wooden door with his shoulder.
A blast of stale air—a mix of cheap ale, cooking grease, and a certain musty smell—hit them.
The lighting inside was dim, with only a few oil lamps providing meager illumination.
The space wasn’t large, containing four or five rough wooden tables and benches.
It was currently the middle of the night, which should have been the tavern’s busiest time, yet the place was empty.
Only a thin, white-haired old man in a tattered apron stood with his back to the door, half-heartedly wiping the counter with a dusty rag.
Hearing the door open, the old man slowly turned around.
His clouded eyes swept over the three people who had entered.
A youth carrying someone, a pale girl with a neck injury, and an unconscious, cloth-wrapped… from the figure, it was also a young woman.
The old man’s gaze paused for less than a second on the blood visible on Aurelia’s neck and Helen’s shoulder before moving away.
His face remained expressionless as he asked in a raspy voice.
“Drinking? Or eating?”
Helen stepped forward, a practiced smile on his face.
“We’re not drinking or eating. We want to rent a quiet room in the back for two days, and… we also need some medicine.”
He deliberately omitted names, using the general “we” to avoid exposure.
The clouded eyes stared at Helen as if searching his memory. A moment later, he snorted.
“Rent a room? And medicine?”
He turned slowly, pulled a roll of bandages from a Box and tossed it over.
“There’s an empty one in the back, but there are no windows and the ventilation isn’t great. You…”
“It’s fine! We just need to rest while traveling. We’ll leave in a few days! As for the medicine…”
He pointed to Aurelia, who appeared quiet but had actually been spacing out for a while.
“The medicine is for this sister. Please give us some high-quality stuff.”
Then, he took out 1 silver coin, stepped forward, and placed it on the counter.
Even though he was pale and his forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat from the journey and the pain of his wound, he tried his best to straighten his back, which had been hunched from carrying the person, attempting to make himself look more confident.
“High-quality?”
He sneered.
“Boy, look at my place. Does it look like a place that has good things?”
He tapped the roll of bandages on the counter, which looked reasonably clean.
“This is it. Finding something clean is good enough. Medicine?”
He turned and slowly bent down, rustling around under the counter.
After a long while, he pulled out a palm-sized clay jar and placed it next to the silver coin.
“Dried Hemostatic Grass. Grind it up and apply it yourself. 10 copper coins. Take it or leave it.”
“Uh… please, based on how often I used to… deliver things for my brother, could you make an exception?”
He deliberately softened his voice.
“We’re really in a difficult spot. This sister is badly hurt and needs a place to recover. We’ll only stay for three days, just three days! This silver coin can serve as the deposit and the first day’s rent. Does that work?”
As he spoke, he quickly glanced at Aurelia out of the corner of his eye.
Her gaze was still blank. It looked like… she was spacing out?
The old man stared at Helen for a few more seconds, then glanced at the silver coin.
He seemed to remember who Helen was.
However, he had already seen that the other two were trouble.
But 1 silver coin in cash was a good amount of income for a dump like this.
Besides, the boy seemed sensible and didn’t look like the type of hothead who would go looking for trouble.
As for the unconscious one… though she wore a Saint’s robe, who knew if she was a real one or what kind of trouble she was in?
As long as he didn’t get dragged into it.
“…”
The old man’s fingers tapped the counter.
After weighing his options, he let out a long sigh.
“Three days, then.”
His gaze swept over the bleeding bandage on the girl’s neck and the unconscious Saint on the bench again, his expression unreadable.
“Room at the very end in the back, door on the left. The key is above the doorframe. Grab it yourself. Just don’t die in there. It’s bad luck.”
Perhaps it was because the silver coin was truly tempting, or perhaps because of the slight connection Helen had mentioned.
Running a shop in the most chaotic corner of the Dock District, the old man had long ago mastered the instinct of walking a tightrope between risk and reward.
In the end, he compromised and pointed a finger toward a corridor blocked by a heavy cloth curtain.
Seeing this, Helen thanked him quickly, picked up the Little Priestess again, and followed Aurelia—who had regained her senses at some point—toward the back.
The corridor was short.
At the end, there were only two opposing wooden doors.
The door panels were low and dilapidated, covered in cracks and stains.
Helen walked to the door on the left, stood on his tiptoes, and felt around in the thick dust above the doorframe.
He took the key, opened the door, and after lighting the oil lamp in the dark, he made sure Aurelia had entered.
He placed the Little Priestess onto one of the single beds and closed the door.
The room was a bit more spacious than expected, at least giving them enough space to jump around a little.
The walls were made of thick, rough wooden boards nailed together.
The gaps between the boards were wide, but they could just barely block the view of the room next door.
The floor was damp earth.
In the corner sat an old wooden table and two chairs.
It looked extremely simple.
Aurelia looked at the room and couldn’t help but let out a long sigh.
‘An Otherworld version of “An Account of a Humble Abode”… sigh, life really is hard. If I had known, I would have taken my little vault with me. Now I’m penniless and living in a dump like this. No matter how I think about it, it’s all that Bastard Redhead’s fault!’
Looking at the old chair, Aurelia dragged her heavy feet over and sat down carefully.
The chair let out an overburdened *creak* and wobbled.
Once it stabilized, she placed the water skin on the table, leaned against the back of the chair, and closed her eyes, breathing heavily.
Due to the friction from the bandage and the tension from the walk, the pain in her neck came in waves like a tide, making her vision go dark and her ears ring.
‘Look at this filthy dwelling, this stagnant air… how well it matches your broken shell… Why not embrace me? Why not give up this pointless struggling and pain?’
‘I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now. If you keep blabbering, I’ll pull you out and feed you to the rats.’
Aurelia listlessly snapped back at the Disaster Source in her mind.
Then, she slumped onto the table, not caring which position was most comfortable, and prepared to rest.
After settling the Little Priestess, Helen almost collapsed onto the other bed.
The hard wooden board and thin mattress made him ache, but he was so tired he didn’t even have the strength to turn over.
He turned his head and looked at Aurelia slumped by the table.
In the dim light, the contour of her face looked even thinner.
Her tightly furrowed brows and slightly trembling eyelashes showed that she was in great pain.
“Sister Lia…”
Helen’s weak voice rang out.
“Your wound… do you really not want to use that herb?”
He looked at the dirty jar on the table, his eyes full of worry.
Aurelia half-opened her eyes and whispered, “We’ll talk about it later…”
Then, she closed her eyes again.
It was unclear if she had passed out or simply fallen asleep.