“That was a wonderful story!” Mo Tan smiled kindly at the Bard with the small mustache. “How should I address you?”
“Beao Lucanus.” The Bard with the small mustache bowed slightly. “You can call me Beao, sir.”
Mo Tan sighed with emotion, shifting his gaze from the slightly deferential Beao in front of him to the sky, his light green eyes filled with enthusiasm and longing…
“I love Bards!” His tone was like that of a child, with an undeniable innocence and purity. “You sing Epics, you are unrestrained, free-spirited and uninhibited, free and romantic. You are knowledgeable and well-versed in history, knowing every legendary love story, every mysterious ruin, every hero’s life, and every grand battle. My friend, perhaps it’s difficult for you to understand this inexpressible envy, but please believe this longing and yearning comes from the bottom of my heart.”
Beao blinked. Although he didn’t quite understand the other party’s so-called ‘inexpressible envy,’ he did make a discovery about this young man…
First, it was certain that this kid was definitely a spoiled rich young master, the kind with excellent living conditions. This could be seen from his generous spending and some small details. Beao, who had traveled extensively, had met countless people, and he possessed this level of observational skill.
Then there was the almost childish innocence in his words. It was unclear whether it was his nature or if something went wrong during his upbringing. In any case, Beao couldn’t quite grasp what kind of demeanor the ‘Bard’ in the other party’s imagination truly possessed. It was hard to imagine such childish remarks, similar to ‘my dad was a great hero a long, long time ago, he slew tens of thousands of evil dragons,’ coming from an adult’s mouth.
There aren't tens of thousands of evil dragons. Even if all the dragons on the entire Innocent Continent did nothing but reproduce, it would be impossible, and even if they could produce such a large number, it wouldn't be easy to train them all into evil forces. The number of insects stomped on by those fathers who are farmers or carpenters and like to brag after drinking might not even reach tens of thousands.
Bards also don’t know that many ancient and mysterious ruins; otherwise, why would they wander aimlessly all over the world? Staying at home and drawing a treasure map every now and then would be enough to become rich beyond compare.
Therefore, Beao felt that Mo Tan was simply a pitiable child, poisoned by countless stories and constantly daydreaming. How irresponsible must his parents have been to let their son develop into this state?!
But then again, many people have hero dreams, but very few seem to have a Bard complex. This one in front of him was truly a rare gem…
So the conclusion was obvious: this guy was foolish and rich!
But it wasn't just that; Beao also discovered something quite unexpected…
This young man’s eloquence and the emotional power in his words were simply astonishing!
His previous words even made Beao think, ‘Holy cow, am I really such a great person!?’
His language seemed to possess magic, overflowing with emotions that could draw others in.
His expression was sincere and not at all exaggerated, as if an old friend was passionately discussing ideals with you, making people want to believe and agree from the bottom of their hearts, no matter how far-fetched it seemed.
His voice was gentle and refined, yet full of emotion and passion, striking directly at the heart like mental magic.
He was a born Bard!
Of course, provided he wasn't sold off or starved to death on the road…
Beao, who had originally intended to coax a bit more money, hesitated. It was like a singer about to scold a brat who broke his window, only to discover the kid had a heavenly voice. The piano, already raised high in his hands, just couldn't be brought down!
“Alas~” After a period of internal struggle, Beao finally sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile at Mo Tan. “Young brother, if I’m not mistaken, your family background should be quite good, right?”
Mo Tan nodded, his expression dimming slightly. “It’s alright. My parents made some money when they were young, and they seem to want me to follow the same path as them, but I don’t like that kind of constrained life.”
“Do your parents still need a son?”
Although Beao wanted to blurt this out, he continued to ask, “So you left home?”
Mo Tan nodded, looking a bit embarrassed.
“You want to be the Bard you yearn for?” Beao asked with a dry laugh. “Free-spirited and uninhibited? Free and romantic?”
“Yes!” Mo Tan’s face instantly lit up. He took out the small harp he had previously pilfered from a general store in Patto City and said with a smile, “I’ve even prepared the instrument. Which do you think suits me better, a harp or a troubadour’s lute?”
“I think a complete Holy Church United health assessment is most suitable for you!”
Beao rolled his eyes, waving his hand weakly at Mo Tan. “I advise you to give up.”
“Why!” Mo Tan’s already pale face instantly lost even more color, and he quickly pressed, “Do you think I don’t have talent? I can…”
“It has nothing to do with that.” Beao touched the frayed collar of his robe, shaking his head. “Being a Bard isn’t as romantic as you imagine. While it can indeed be called free, and somewhat unrestrained, most people don’t live very well, like me…”
Mo Tan stared at him blankly.
Beao gently stroked his collar, a wry smile on his face. “I’ve worn this robe for seven or eight years. I haven’t replaced it not because my mother sewed it herself, but simply because I don’t have the money. Perhaps tonight I’ll have a good meal and a couple of drinks, courtesy of this tavern owner, but tomorrow night I might go hungry. Many times, even telling stories for several hours might not earn me half a copper, and the cheapest black bread costs a full two coppers.”
“It shouldn’t be like that.” Mo Tan was clearly incredulous. “I’ve met many Bards, and my mother always…”
“Your mother must be a generous and respectable person.” Beao smiled, cutting him off. “But most people become respectable precisely because they aren’t so generous. Survival and romance are never synonyms. Perhaps I can tell people how grand a celebratory ball in some kingdom was centuries ago, but that doesn’t conflict with the fact that I’ve never had a sip of wine costing more than two silver coins.”
Mo Tan fell silent.
Beao smiled apologetically. “I don’t wish to shatter your ideals, but as repayment for that one gold coin just now, I feel it’s my duty to tell you these things. This world isn’t as simple as a young man living without worries might think.”
“What about those stories?” Mo Tan, feeling dejected, asked gloomily, “Are those stories not so simple either?”
Beao shrugged. “Stories are always simple; they just aren’t that real. A Bard’s stories never mention the heroes and demon lords’ daily bodily functions, but that doesn’t mean they don’t actually need to use the restroom. And many Epics are simply made up. Even truly existing deeds aren’t always so moving. I might say a giant dragon that fell from the sky was shot down by a warrior’s arrow or kicked down, but what if it was just tired?”
“So, was the story in the tavern just now true or false?” Mo Tan asked softly. “Did you hear it? Did you make it up? Or did you witness it yourself?”
Beao hesitated, then suddenly laughed. “It seems you haven’t given up yet. Alright, no harm in telling you. The content of that story was largely true, and it happened quite recently.”
“A giant dragon that fell in the ruined capital?!” Mo Tan’s eyes widened. “I’ve never heard of a place like that nearby…”
Beao gently tapped the small drum in his hand, blinking. “Of course not nearby. The ruined capital in the story is located in the Northwest of the Innocent Continent. There’s a place there called Ondhill, which was once one of the most glorious capitals of the Sun Dynasty, renowned as the ‘Unfalling City.’ But now, it’s no longer the Unfalling City Ondhill; we all call it the Ruined Capital Ondhill~”
“Northwest of the Innocent Continent?” Mo Tan scratched his hair. “Did you travel from there?”
“Ha, how could that be~” Beao bent over laughing. “I never intended to travel that far. Although I’ve been to many places over the years, I’ve mostly wandered around the Northeast Innocent Continent.”
“Then how did you…”
“Do you think telling stories about the Northeast Innocent Continent would be very popular in the Northeast Innocent Continent?” Beao shook his head. “As long as everyone has heard a little, the appeal of the story will be much less. So… you understand~”
Mo Tan spread his hands. “I don’t understand.”
“The further away a place is, the more marketable its stories will be locally, or at least fresh enough~” Beao smiled. “Let me tell you a secret that only experienced Bards know. Do you know about the Wanderer's Inn?”
Combining it with Beao’s expression, Mo Tan nodded, answering quite readily, “Of course!”
Even though he had actually never heard of such a place…
“Of course, after all, it’s a hostel with the same name all over the world; it would be strange if you didn’t know.” Beao nodded without surprise, then suddenly held up an index finger and shook it. “But the Wanderer's Inn can actually also be called the Bard’s Guild.”
Mo Tan cooperatively let out an ‘Oh?’
“It’s not a big secret,” Beao said with a smile. “But it was originally just a gathering place for Bards. However, a few hundred years ago, it gradually started to become more like a neutral organization. Although it doesn’t have a sign, any slightly experienced Bard knows about it.”
“I see.” Mo Tan pressed on, “So what does it do?”
“It’s for exchanging stories, of course!” Beao shrugged. “Each hostel is connected to the others. Bards collect local or nearby stories and anecdotes, then exchange them at the Wanderer's Inn for stories from other places or for some spare change~ The one I just told you, I exchanged it for a Holy Knight story from Patto City, not far from here~”
At this point, the Bard with the small mustache suddenly laughed. “I haven’t inquired much further than that; anyway, that’s roughly it. If your curiosity is satisfied now, then go home early.”
Beao didn't know why he was telling these things to the young man in front of him. Logically, being not entirely upright, he should have tried to swindle the other party as much as possible to earn more travel expenses from this wealthy young master who didn't understand social etiquette, but in the end, he didn't.
Perhaps it was because of the gold coin Mo Tan had given him earlier, perhaps because Beao had drunk a bit too much today, perhaps because of that inexplicable feeling of closeness, perhaps a little sympathy, perhaps because deep down he somewhat hoped this talented young man would also become a Bard…
Perhaps it was because he himself had once dreamed the same dream.
Simply telling stories in villages, towns, and city alleys, enjoying the exclamations and praises of others…
Humming poems in fields and on paths, and being intoxicated by his own words…
Unrestrained, free, and romantic…
Beao gave a self-deprecating smile. After all, he was just a common man. Romance and freedom couldn't buy food, nor could they make gold coins jingle in his pocket. Compared to people being moved by his stories, what he cared about most was always whether there were many or few coppers in his hat at the end.
After all, those who starve to death have no right to talk about romance.
Suddenly losing some interest, Beao shook his head, just about to indicate that he had said all he had to say and that the young man should take care of himself, when he noticed the young man in front of him also smiled.
However, this time, there was no longer a trace of innocence in his smile, and the light in his eyes was not naive or confused, but a trembling, pure, unrestrained, unfathomable—joy.
Beao’s consciousness became somewhat blurry…
...
A few minutes later
Mo Tan walked down the path, humming the tune of 'Song of the Heroes.' His previously somewhat annoyed mood had gradually improved. He had learned enough information from Beao and was also convinced that he had indeed discovered a pair of eyes, omnipresent eyes~
“Wanderer's Inn, huh…” Mo Tan ended his 'Song of the Heroes' with a loud whistle, laughing happily. “Neutral organization? Bard’s Guild? Don’t be ridiculous, its creators wouldn’t be so short-sighted. Its purpose is to exchange stories? Only an idiot would think that! Haha, hahahahahahaha~~”
Under the silent night sky, a burst of unbridled laughter suddenly rang out…
“This is the largest intelligence organization, with informants spread across the entire world!!”
...
When Beao came to his senses from his daze, the generous young man from earlier was gone. Feeling a bit muddled, he even wondered if he had just had a strange dream.
It wasn't until he discovered a line of small text and a heavy bag of gold coins at his feet that he fully woke up.
Then the money bag, which contained at least a hundred gold coins, made him dazed again…
The writing on the ground was beautiful, looking as if it had been carved with a sharp blade like a dagger…
“Fools are not worthy of such kindness, and the vulgar will receive vulgar rewards. Though it may be unpleasant to hear and laughable, its weight is more than just one gold coin.”
Staring blankly at this sentence, Beao Lucanus, this Bard who would become highly renowned on the Innocent Continent in the future, tightly clutched the money bag in his hand, his mind a blank, as if in a dream…
Chapter 66: The End