Chapter 18: The Novice Quest

Drawing on his experiences from the modern world, Wu Qingsong led the two beastwomen toward what seemed to be a residential area.

His past adventures with family vacations had taught him a valuable lesson, high-traffic areas like tourist spots and train stations rarely offered good services at equivalent prices since they had no lack of customers. A tip from a travel guide once advised, “Never eat near tourist attractions, always go where the locals dine.”

Soon, they discovered several eateries on a relatively secluded street, patronized mainly by locals.

Their peculiar ensemble, a half-elf accompanied by two young beastwomen, did draw some curious glances. However, residents of this trading city were evidently more open-minded toward unusual sights than those in an agricultural town like Karagados.

The restaurant’s proprietor, a middle-aged beastwoman of enduring allure, recommended their house special–a culinary symphony of seafood, shellfish, and vegetables that had all three diners nodding in satisfaction.

“It’s so delicious!” Liuli was so enthralled that she seemed ready to lick her plate clean, causing Wu Qingsong a moment of mild embarrassment.

“Do you know of any nearby houses available for rent?” he asked of the restaurant owner. “We don’t need anything large, just somewhere clean.”

“Are you looking for a detached residence or would one or two rooms suffice?” the owner asked, sizing up their group.

“How much would a detached house set us back?”

“Approximately twenty renals a month, give or take?”

“That much?” Ling blurted out in surprise.

“This is Umber, after all,” the owner shrugged. “Staying in an inn would cost you at least thirty renals a month for a single room.”

“What about the rooms?” Wu Qingsong asked.

“If you’re not too picky, we have two available rooms upstairs. Feel free to take a look before we discuss if they meet your needs.”

This arrangement seemed more than reasonable. Temporarily leaving her husband in charge of the restaurant, the owner guided them upstairs.

The building didn’t differ significantly from the surrounding residences. It was a wooden three-story structure squeezed between its neighbors, evoking memories for Wu Qingsong of the compact urban villages near his school.

The owner showed them to rooms at the far end of the second floor, which faced each other. One had a window overlooking the bustling street below, allowing the mouth-watering aroma of cooked meals to drift in. The other room looked out over a narrow alley. Beyond the maze of buildings, one could catch a faint glimpse of the distant harbor and sea.

Each room was furnished simply but effectively, a bed, a wardrobe, two stools, and a small table that could double as a writing desk. A clean chamber pot was situated in the corner.

“The water station is conveniently located just around the corner at the intersection, making it easy to fetch water,” the owner eagerly explained. “It’s just a half-hour walk from here to the docks, and we’re also close to the city gate and the craftsman district. Without boasting, I must say this is one of the prime locations in Umber.”

Though she was clearly embellishing, Wu Qingsong thought their location, being somewhat to the southeast of the city center, was still pretty good.

“How much for both rooms?” Wu Qingsong asked.

“What do you think of ten renals? And if you choose to dine with us, we can offer an 80% rate on your meals.”

After a brief negotiation, Wu Qingsong managed to finalize the rent at eight renals per month. They also agreed on a 40% discount for meals, based on menu prices, with the stipulation that they could not occupy tables in the restaurant for dining in.

Both parties were pleased with the arrangement. Although Ling still found it more expensive than in Rem City, Wu Qingsong felt the environment was more than acceptable.

“We’re newcomers, let’s get accustomed to the area first. Later, we can decide whether or not to move,” Wu Qingsong suggested.

“I assure you, you won’t find a better place than this,” the owner quickly interjected.

Wu Qingsong and his companions paid two months’ rent in advance. Guided by the owner, they went to nearby shops to pick up essential supplies, officially settling into the new city.

Having secured a place to stay, Ling and Liuli sighed in relief and visibly relaxed. Both women were no strangers to household chores and quickly took on the roles of cleaning and organizing, leaving Wu Qingsong with little to do. He decided to pass the time by engaging in conversation with the innkeeper and her husband downstairs.

It was only then that he discovered they were both otterfolk. The husband was the chef, while the innkeeper herself handled a range of duties including maintenance, cashiering, and greeting guests. They were also joined by a slightly younger otterfolk. Initially, Wu Qingsong assumed she was an employee, but after observing her close relationship with the couple and inquiring, he found out that she was actually their concubine. In other words, this was a family unit comprising one husband and two wives.

“This is…?” Wu Qingsong delicately asked, pleased to discover that such family arrangements were not uncommon throughout the continent.

He learned that, historically, prolonged warfare had resulted in a skewed gender ratio, with more women than men. This led to the formation of households with one male and multiple females as a common social construct. Even in contemporary times, this traditional structure continued to persist.

Unlike the world Wu Qingsong came from, many beastkin families in this realm were not centered around the husband, but were matriarchal instead. The ‘Big Wife’ was the actual head of the household, and if the husband met an unfortunate end, she could even remarry, taking all her concubines with her.

Wu Qingsong speculated that this could be another social custom stemming from eras marred by war.

‘What a truly deplorable tradition,’ he thought

He vowed that if the opportunity ever arose, he would personally criticize such an unjust practice.

However, critiquing social norms wasn’t Wu Qingsong’s primary focus. During his casual conversation with the innkeepers, he gathered much valuable information about Umber, although it did give him a slight headache.

Education was evidently a luxury here. Hiring a teacher to learn reading and writing would certainly put a dent in his finances. Although Umber was a commercial hub offering a multitude of job opportunities, especially for half-elves like him, most high-paying roles required skills in literacy and numeracy. Without these, one was relegated to manual labor, a field where he couldn’t compete with the beastkin.

Learning swordsmanship presented even more of a challenge. Many skills in this world were passed down from father to son. Another option was to become an apprentice, providing free labor for a prolonged period. 

In this commerce-oriented city, the practical application of martial skills was limited. Swordsmanship was mostly a pastime for the nobility.

Laborers and sailors who aspired to become soldiers or mercenaries usually acquired a weapon first. Then, they sought opportunities to enlist in the city guard or a mercenary company, gaining training as they fulfilled their duties and undertook missions.

“Interested in a swordsmanship instructor, are you? You might want to head over to the wealthier districts for that,” said the innkeeper, sounding somewhat unsure. “I’ve heard rumors of fencing schools there, but be prepared, their fees are likely to be astronomical.”

Unsurprisingly, whether in this world or any other, money always comes up as the most crucial obstacle.

Yet Wu Qingsong was a firm believer that problems often had more than one solution. If the traditional route proved too costly, why not think creatively?

“Are you aware of any seasoned adventurers or mercenaries nearby? Perhaps retired soldiers or people who’ve left trading companies?” he asked.

“If you’re in search of an old-timer well-versed in swordsmanship, I happen to know one,” interjected a patron who was dining at the inn. “The old man used to be a known mercenary, but a lost leg has made life difficult for him. These days, he scrapes by with wood carving, and from what I know, even affording meals is a challenge for him.”

“Where does he live?” Wu Qingsong’s excitement was palpable.

In various tales and video games, wasn’t a down-on-his-luck elder with a glorious past the quintessential starting mentor for a protagonist?

“It’s not far from here, but…” The man hesitated, clearly not eager to offer the information for free.

“How about five coppers to take me to him?” 

“Deal!” The man agreed instantly.